Chocolate fic for tinyangl, PART 2
To: tinyangl
From: cupid_johnny
Title: Echo
Pairing: Aiba Masaki/Horikita Maki • Aiba Masaki/Becky • Ishihara Satomi/Ohno Satoshi • Ishihara Satomi/Matsumoto Jun . . .
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. Life is about chances and choices. (For history’s sake, would you please take notice?)
A/N: What can one even say to half of the most fabulous mod team, to whom anonymity rarely exists, except-surprise! ♥♥♥
“Ah, isn’t that-it is, it is!”
“What? What?”
“Look over there!”
“I’m driving.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot…”
“You always do…”
“Anyway, I can see the tip of the Inubosaki lighthouse from here. It brings back so many memories…”
Three (Tidal Wave)
He releases her, stares at his twitching fingers and is it just his imagination or is his hand tingling? Has it always felt this way, Maki’s hand in his? She doesn’t seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, though, prances ahead and hops the steps two at a time before glancing back at him, hands on her hips.
“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Maki calls, smile wide and brilliant and Aiba suddenly remembers why, on these very stairs two years ago, he made an unwitting confession.
“Maki-chan!”
“Hmm?”
Something cold hits his forehead and he laughs, giddy and explosive. He’s completely forgotten what he wanted to say. And suddenly it’s pouring down upon them and he can’t do anything but run up the stairs, pushing Maki along ahead of him. “We should get out of this rain!”
“Memories?”
“Yeah. When I still lived in Tokyo, my parents and I would visit my aunt and uncle here every summer. They live juuust down that road over there. So while our parents were catching up and playing cards, my cousin and I would walk down the shoreline and stay until long after the sun set and the water turned silver under the moonlight. It was what I looked forward to the most every year, the Inubosaki lighthouse at night. It always felt like the current and the heavens were colliding in this one, beautiful place.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Mmhm.”
“Say, I have a story about Inubosaki lighthouse, too.”
“Really? What story?”
“China?!”
“China.”
“Why China?”
“If I have to run a windshield factory, I’m going to run a windshield empire.”
“B-but what happened to Koshien or bust?”
“Everyone’s got to have a plan B.”
Aiba doesn’t. He doesn’t even have a plan A. “Must be nice.”
“What?”
“Having your life all figured out already. You’ve known what you were going to do since you were born.”
“You know most people in my situation spend their whole lives trying to fight against it. It’s not that great to have someone else decide your entire future.”
“It’s better than wandering around aimlessly, feeling like you’ve been left behind by everyone.” It’s a little over dramatic, even Aiba will admit, and he can almost hear Nino rolling his eyes all the way from Tokyo University. “Really, though. Sometimes it feels like you all already know what you want to do with your lives and I’m stuck here. A math major.”
“I thought you liked math.”
“I’m good at math-there’s a difference.”
“So why don’t you-ah, damn it Pikachu!”
“…Are you playing Pokemon while your best friend is having a mid-midlife crisis?!”
“Uh…no? I named my Dragon Quest hero, Pikachu, duh.”
“Maki-chan is officially my new best friend.”
“She’s leaving you, too, you know.”
“What?!”
“America. For a year. She said she mentioned it to you.”
“I think I would remember that!”
“No you wouldn’t.”
“You may be right.” Aiba frowns, tries to think back, but draws a blank. “How did you guys even hear about study abroad anyway?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Um?”
“There are fliers for it everywhere-pasted on every wall of my school’s student center, even.”
“We don’t have a student center.”
“Aiba…”
“Okay, I wouldn’t know even if we did,” Aiba admits, before frowning. “Wait, so you guys are leaving me behind figuratively and literally?!”
“If that freaks you out so much, why don’t you just study abroad, too?”
“Where would I go? Where do math majors go?”
“I don’t know. Just close your eyes and point to a destination on a map or something.”
“Oh! Oh! That! I can do that! Here wait one second!” Aiba says, throwing his phone onto the bed and rooting under Yamapi’s bed for a map he bought at the beginning of term because he said it was soulful to hang a map on your wall. Only the off-brand sticky tack Yamapi used never quite stuck, and the poster always ended up a crumpled mess on his bed before he finally chucked it under the bed. “Okay-get ready-Aiba Masaki is going to study abroad next year-in-in-wait for it-!” Aiba smacks his finger down and eagerly opens his eyes. “The Pacific Ocean.”
Nino dies laughing over the phone.
“Hey, the odds were against me, okay! The world is eighty percent water!”
“Seventy.” Nino snickers. “I thought you were good at numbers.”
“Whatever. Maybe I’ll just become a tuna fisherman.”
“There’s no tuna in the Pacific Ocean.”
“How can that-wait, you don’t know that.”
“Nope, I don’t,” Nino admits, laughing harder now.
Aiba frowns, swirls his finger around the map until his eyes spin and cross until they land on… “London.”
“London? London’s cool, but why London?”
“I don’t know…but London does sound cool.”
Aiba finds out just how cool London is during the second half of junior year. London has everything: the sights, the sounds, the smells-the fries. He eats fish and chips for his first five meals in a row and has no regrets. Best of all, he’s not alone. He knows Narimiya Hiroki from philosophy and Matsuda Shota from psychology and the three of become pretty inseparable over the course of the school term. Until both Nari and Shota find girlfriends and the three of them becomes the five of them.
Aiba likes Shihori and Yuriko, and though they try their best to not leave Aiba out, it sometimes has the opposite effect of making him feel like the fifth wheel. Which is exactly how Aiba ends up in Covent Garden early on one Friday morning. Shihori wants see an opera, Yuriko has a macabre fascination for old churches, and Aiba is still not sure why they had to get up this early for either.
“There’s death around St. Paul’s church,” Yuriko murmurs, eyes glazing over as she points to a spot just to the left of the entrance.
“Let’s go take a picture,” Shota replies, popping the lens from his camera and taking her by the arm. They glide off dreamily and Aiba shudders. He really doesn’t understand Shota’s taste in women.
Nari slides his hand into Shihori’s, and Aiba sees the slightest smile bloom over her lips. He turns his head to the side and coughs.
“I’m still hungry, so I’m going to grab some more food. I’ll meet you guys in time for the show!” he says, shooting them a thumbs-up before jogging off in the opposite direction to give them some alone time. He’s heading back towards the stand with the most amazing cheese fries when he bumps straight into something.
Rather, someone.
“Ah! Sorry, sorry!” Aiba says at once in English, one of the few phrases he’s learned not to mess up, bowing his head and pressing his hands together in apology. No answer. Aiba opens his eyes and blinks.
“Wow,” he breathes after a moment, unable to look away. How can he describe it in English? “Very, very nice.”
There’s no answer, just the swish swish of brush on canvas. Aiba glances at the artist and blinks again.
“Say, are you Japanese?” he asks excitedly.
Silence.
“How long do you have to practice before you get that good?”
Silence.
“I like painting, but I’m not very good at all.”
Silence.
“So, not Japanese, huh.” Aiba frowns, bringing his hand to his chin. “How can I ask what he’s painting in English…”
“…A falling star.”
“Hey, you are Japanese!” Aiba laughs, before squinting. “It looks like a yellow umbrella.”
“Hmm.”
“You’re a funny guy,” Aiba laughs, slapping him on the back. “What’s your name?”
He looks at Aiba with round, unblinking eyes. “Ohno Satoshi.”
Aiba takes Ohno’s hand, never mind the paint, and grins as he shakes it. “Aiba Masaki. Nice to meet you!”
“So I heard this story from my grandmother, who heard it from her best friend.”
“Uh-huh.”
“When my grandmother’s best friend was just a little girl, she actually lived right around here, too.”
“Oh, where?”
“Uhhhhh, she didn’t say. But it was close by, probably. Anyway, so when my grandmother’s best friend was a little girl, the lighthouse was still in use. So my grandmother’s best friend’s mother, no wait, her sister-”
“What was her name?”
“Huh?”
“Your grandmother’s best friend. What was her name? Maybe I know her.”
“How should I know?”
“So when your grandmother never told you the name of her best friend?”
“Her name was Ai-baba Ma…nabu?”
“Is this a poor beginning to a ghost story?”
“Wuh-well, maybe? But it’s a good one, trust me. So-”
“Turn the car around.”
“Huh?”
“Turn the car around.”
“Aiba-kun.”
Aiba stirs just as the crescent of red sun disappears from between his eyelids. He cracks an eye open and grins. “Yo, Maki-chan.”
“You’re going to get sunburned,” Maki tsks, wiggling a bottle of sunscreen over his head.
She stretches out on the sand beside him as he applies the cream over his face and neck. “Good?”
Maki reaches over and rubs at his nose. “Good.” Her thumb is cold against his skin and she’s still dripping wet from a dip in the ocean, face flushed and glowing. “How does it feel to finally be back?”
“I loved it there, but there’s really no place like Japan.”
Maki smiles. “Did your English get any better?”
“Would you believe me if I said it did?”
Maki laughs and shakes her head.
“How was America?”
“America was great!” Maki beams, chattering in her familiar tone and pace and it’s so comfortable, so familiar. His eyes start to flitter, flutter-Maki pokes him in the ribs. “Hey, don’t ask if you don’t want an answer.”
“N-no, sorry. Jetlag.”
“Hmm,” Maki says, nodding without really agreeing. “Ohno-san is nice.”
“He’s an interesting one, isn’t he?”
“You surprised us by showing up with some random guy.”
“I was surprised. I went to say goodbye, mentioned that I was heading to Okinawa and that I planned to do some fishing here, and suddenly he’s packing up his things and buying a one-way ticket at the airport with me.” Aiba grins slyly. “But hey, I wasn’t the only one who brought someone along.”
He glances out into the ocean, where Masami is dunking Nino’s blond head under water. He doesn’t resurface, and Masami cocks her head to the side, confused, worried, before suddenly being tackled from below and pulled underwater. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Boys, Maki-chan. You must have them lining up for your attention.”
“Haa?”
“Don’t you haa me. What about Yamapi? Wasn’t there…?”
“Yamashita-kun?” she chokes back a laugh. “I mean, we flirted, sure, but I wasn’t looking for anything serious. Besides, he’s dating Aragaki-san.”
“Ah, Yui-chan? I can see them working well together-but wait! Don’t change the subject! There must be some guy? What about Ryo-chan?”
Maki blinks. “Who?”
“You know, Ryo-chan. Short. Osakan.”
Maki shakes her head.
“Looks kind of like Gachapin?”
“Ohh, Nishikido-kun? Hmm, the last time I talked to him, he asked if he could call me Maki-chan…but I don’t think we ever spoke after that.”
“That was probably his way of confessing,” Aiba mutters, shaking his head.
“Eh?”
“No, nothing. I guess Keiko-chan can make her move now.”
Maki smiles a little, shaking her head. “You’re always so enthusiastically involved in everyone’s life.”
“Are you calling me a busybody?”
“No,” she replies, bumping her shoulder against his. “Just someone who really loves people.”
“I’ll accept that.” Aiba nods, before glancing at Maki suspiciously from the corner of his eyes. “But seriously, not a single special someone?”
“No, no one special. I’m trying to concentrate on my studies, you know that.”
“A waste, Maki-chan!” Aiba groans. “You’re depriving all the young men of Japan!”
“So dramatic.” Maki wrinkles her nose. “What about you? No special someone in London? Just Ohno-san?”
“No there wasn’t-wait, what are you trying to imply?”
“Just that if you were interested in Ohno-san, he seems more interested in someone else.”
“Nino?”
Maki giggles.
“I guess it’s true that taken men are more attractive-”
“Oiiiii!” Speaking of the devil. Nino and his highlighter head races towards them from across the beach, kicking up sand the entire way, tugging Masami along by the hand. “Are you guys thirsty?”
“We’re going to stop by the convenience store,” Masami adds, breathless and rosy-cheeked.
“Yeah, I could use a drink,” Aiba replies, suddenly feeling parched.
“I left my wallet with Kuroki, though-spot me?”
Aiba reaches into the pockets of his capri pants and slips him some money.
“Lemon Tea for Maki-chan, right?” Maki gives Nino a thumbs-up. “Milkis, Aiba?”
“Nah, Lemon Tea for me, too.”
“Roger!” And Nino is off again, giggling away with Masami. He watches them until they are just wavy blurs in the summer haze.
“Hey, want to hear something funny?” Maki asks suddenly, but judging by the look on her face she’s the one bursting to tell him.
“Always.”
“Nino cuts a hole into the lining of every pair of shoes he owns.”
“Huh? What does that have to do with anything?”
“He does it so that he always has emergency money on him no matter where he goes. He owes you 3500 yen since high school.”
“What? Do you know how many drinks I’ve bought him?!” Aiba cries, before relenting. “Well, he was barefoot this time, so I guess it’s okay.” Maki’s grin threatens to crack her face straight in two and Aiba groans. “What else?”
“He also sews a little pocket on the inside of every pair of pants he owns-including swim trunks-in case of emergency.”
“Money-grubbing troll,” Aiba mutters. Maki doubles over in laughter at that, wheezing and wiping away tears.
“You know, you’ve always paid a lot of attention to the things Nino does,” Aiba murmurs without really thinking.
“Have I?” Maki asks, straightening up at once.
“You even went to every single one of his baseball games-even when he was just a benchwarmer.”
“None of his family ever went.”
“That’s it!” Aiba exclaims, pounding a fist into his open palm. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked him!”
He expects Maki’s laughter to explode at that, but she just blinks and splays her fingers against her cheeks.
“Ah. Mm, yeah. I used to.”
Aiba gapes. “Nino?”
“Yup.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not that funny.”
“But Nino.”
“I feel like you’re insulting Masami-chan now…”
“I just…why?”
“Why, you ask,” Maki trails off thoughtfully. She leans back against her arms, raising her head toward the sun. “I don’t know. I don’t think I really thought about it. The first time I saw him, he was playing baseball with his sisters at the park and he was such a tiny little thing. They always picked on him, said someone so small could never go to Koshien, but that just made him work harder. He would stay in the park and practice even after they went home. It was hard to watch his effort and not admire him.” It’s subtle, but Maki’s voice sounds softer whenever she talks about Nino, sweeter, indulgent. Even her face seems brighter. He wonders how he could have missed it. “I don’t actually remember our first meeting, only at some point, the days I knew him outnumbered the days I didn’t.”
“So why didn’t you guys ever…you know?”
Maki blinks and the look is gone. “Who knows? Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”
“That doesn’t sound like the practical Maki-chan I know.”
She laughs and shrugs her shoulders.
“Do you still like him?”
“Wha-?” Maki falls into the sand with a startled thump. “You mean as members of the opposite sex?”
Aiba grins and falls back into the sand with her. “Yeah, like that.”
“No,” she says after a moment. “How silly would it be if I still liked him in that way after all these years?”
“So you would never entertain the thought again?”
Maki purses her lips. “I don’t think anyone should speak with such finality. Life is too unpredictable for that.”
“You think that way about everything?”
“I do.”
“Everyone?”
“Mmhm.”
He looks at her, and she is in so many ways the same girl who used to find him hiding away in thickets, chiding him to go to school, but in so many ways not.
“Want me to bury you in the sand?” he asks, eyes twinkling.
“You just need an excuse to sculpt sand boobs.”
“I never need an excuse to sculpt sand boobs.”
Maki laughs and glances over his shoulder. “Nino’s back. We should get our drinks.”
“Always depriving me of sand boobs, Maki-chan…”
“Hurry up.” She laughs, flicking some sand in his direction. “Slow poke.”
“And a sparkling water for Kuroki, bleh,” Nino says, handing a bottle to Meisa just as they arrive.
“If you don’t want to sleep on the cold, cold beach, you’d do well not to bleh your hostess’s drink of choice, Nino,” Meisa replies lightly, popping the top of the drink and taking a delicate sip. Nino rolls his eyes, but looks away whistling when she raises an eyebrow at him.
“Ah, Ohno-san, your nose is burnt,” Maki says with a frown. “Do you want some sunscreen?”
“He won’t hear you, Maki-chan. Ah, it’s a lighthouse,” he says, peering over Ohno’s shoulder to his sketchbook.
“He’s been sketching it all day,” Meisa adds with some amusement. “Speaking of which, do you guys know the legend of Cape Zanpa lighthouse?”
When everyone collectively shakes their heads, Meisa grins. “Oh, then I have a treat for you! Okay, so this is a true account I heard from my friend, Yoshiko-chan, whose family has lived here for generations.”
“I’m so sure,” Nino mutters. Masami elbows him in the ribs and nods for Meisa to continue.
“Anyway, when Yoshiko-chan’s grandmother was a little girl, the lighthouse was always lit up because sailors used to come in and out every day. Yoshiko-chan’s grandmother had a sister, also named Yoshiko, who was engaged to a sailor, but because it was such a perilous job back then, she would come to the lighthouse every day he was out at sea to burn incense and sing a song for his safe return.
“But one day, on the day he was scheduled to come back, there was a fierce, raging storm. Yoshiko-san went to the lighthouse despite everyone’s warnings, stole a rowboat on the pier and rowed all the way over in the storm. She thought that if she could only make it to the lighthouse and sing her song of safe return, her beloved would come home safely as he always did…”
“Then what happened?” Masami asks breathlessly, clutching onto Nino’s shoulders with trembling hands.
“She was never seen again.”
“That’s it?” Nino asks, crossing his arms. “Boooring.”
Meisa glares at him. “I didn’t say that was it. When the sailor returned and found out Yoshiko-san had drowned, he cursed the sea and vowed to bring her back from it. He dove into the depths to find her, but he, too, was never seen again…
“And now, people say that if you listen hard enough by the shore, you’ll sometimes hear a strange creaking noise, like an unpolished hinge…only, the door has been sealed for ages…
“Other times, people have reported hearing a boom, boom, boom, like the echo of footsteps desperately climbing the stairs to the top of the lighthouse…
“And sometimes, on particularly stormy nights, some people will hear someone singing…singing…”
“Euuugh!” Masami says, ducking her head into Nino’s chest. Euuugh is right. Aiba tries his best to hide the shudder running through his spine.
“Hmm, I thought that myth was about the Inubosaki lighthouse in Chiba,” Maki says, completely unruffled.
“That’s because everyone tells the same ghost story about whatever lighthouse is most convenient, always told to them by a third party first person account to lend it some credibility to susceptible idiots,” Nino cuts in.
“For someone so blasé about ghost stories, your heart sure is beating fast, Ninotendo.”
“Ahn, it’s because you’re holding me, Masachu.”
“Oh, get a room,” Meisa says, fake vomiting to the side. Nino and Masami burst out laughing and Maki shakes her head with a smile.
Aiba laughs, but stops short when he hears a faint skritch skritch. Ohno’s back to sketching again, which means…he had stopped sketching during Meisa’s story? He glances down at Ohno’s sketchbook with some surprise. “Ah, isn’t that Meisa? I’ve never seen you draw people before.” He tilts his head to the side and squints. “What do you call this one?”
Ohno glances at him unblinkingly. “Meisa.”
“A-are you sure we should be doing this?”
“Of course.”
“But this lighthouse hasn’t been used in a long time, right? Isn’t it off limits?”
“We’ll be fine.”
“We just walked through three fences to get to this side of the shore. Not around the fences, through…”
“There were holes in those fences for a reason.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“What are you so scared of? Scaredy cat. Nya. Nyaaa. What would Hime and Uran say?”
“They would say to get the hell out of here before you get murdered in that lighthouse.”
“We are not going to get murdered.”
“Easy for you to say…the pretty ones always live to the end of horror movies because people like to watch ‘em bounce around. No one is going to want to watch me bounce. I’m doomed!”
“Oh, hush. Okay we’re at the entrance. Knock.”
“Knock?!”
“Who’s there?!”
“…That was a really cold joke.”
“It was hilarious. Now go.”
“Yo, Aiba, jobless?”
“Is that really how you’re going to start every phone call?” Aiba grumbles, stuffing his face into his pillow. “And anyway I’m not jobless, per se.”
“Being your family restaurant’s delivery boy isn’t not being jobless, per se.”
“Are you calling just to rub it in my face?”
“Yup,” Nino chuckles. “That and I’ve got a job opportunity if you’re interested. It’s only an assistant job, but…”
“I’M INTERESTED!”
Aiba shows up at a Starbucks in the heart of Tokyo dressed in his least rumpled collared shirt, a pair of black slacks, and a matching black blazer. His tie is crooked and he’s a little sweaty, but at least he’s on time. He’s just wondering why Nino told him to pin a rose in his lapel.
He glances around the café until he spots a woman around his age, dressed in a button down shirt and jeans, checking her watch with a scowl on her face. Now what did Nino say his interviewer’s name was…?
“Uhh, Becky?”
She glances up and squints. “Becky-san.”
“Oh, sorry Becky.”
She stares. “Becky-san.”
“Yes, Becky-san!” He salutes. Before promptly regretting it. He starts second guessing the idea that it’s just bad luck he still doesn’t have a job, per se.
“You’re late, Aiba-san.”
“H-huh? It’s two minutes before twelve!”
“You should always aim to be ten minutes early,” she tuts, staring him up and down. “And why are you dressed like you’re going to prom? Didn’t Nino tell you to dress comfortably?”
Of course he didn’t.
“I…um. I’m comfortable?”
She raises an eyebrow. “If you say so. Let’s go.”
“Go? Where are we going? I thought this was an interview.”
Becky blinks. “Interview? I just needed someone to help me run an errand. Masami-chan told me Nino knew someone with a lot of free time on his hands.”
Aiba scrunches up his nose. “They’re made for each other.”
Becky chuckles under her breath before hiding it behind a cough. “Let’s go, we’ll have to take the train.”
He trails after her without another word, removes his blazer and tries to loosen his tie, but instead of falling away clean, the knot jumbles even further. He’s wrestling with it in full force by the time they arrive at the turnstile, elbows high and fingers jammed into every little crevice to untangle it. Becky finally turns around after someone shouts at him to hurry the hell up. Her eyes widen and she gapes. “What the heck are you doing?!”
“Um,” he says feebly.
After he finally gets through the turnstile-she pays his fare because his card is short-she pulls him aside, away from crowds of passersby, and rolls her eyes. “What kind of grown man doesn’t even know how to tie a tie properly? You should be glad this isn’t a real interview,” she mutters, removing his hands from the knotted mess to pick between folds of fabric. After several difficult seconds she growls in frustration and moves her head closer to get a better look. Her hair is in loose, bouncy curls and smells like strawberry champagne. He sniffs and a stray flyaway flitters and flutters straight into his nose.
He sneezes.
Right on her head.
“Did you say something?”
“Nothing!” he squeaks, suddenly relieved that this is not an interview. “Uh, say, Becky.”
“Becky-san.”
“What exactly is it that you do?”
She lets out a triumphant little “aha!” before removing herself from him, taking with her a very wrinkled tie. She tosses it at him and he catches it with one hand. “Ever hear of Himitsu no Nippon-chan?”
“Himitsu no-oh! HNN? My mom watches that. She really likes, um, what’s his name?”
“Sakurai-”
“Sho-chan!”
“That’s Sakurai-san to you,” she huffs. “But I’m glad to hear your mom is a fan. I know our ratings aren’t great, not yet, but we’ve been gaining a steady following!”
Aiba nods. “Sure, so what is it that you do?”
“I’m the Assistant Director.”
“Woah, really?” She beams and flashes a peace sign at him. “But you’re, like, my age!”
Her smile falters and her fingers lower. “Well. Okay, I’m not exactly the Assistant Director, but I might as well be! I pretty much do the work for it.”
“So…what are you actually?”
She wrinkles her nose at him. “I’m…Assistant to the Director,” she mumbles under her breath.
“What?”
She frowns and repeats. “Assistant to the Director.”
“Oh.” That’s less impressive. “That’s less impressive.”
“Says the delivery boy!” Becky growls back. “Now come on. Let’s go.”
They enter a train car in complete silence after that. Becky refuses to acknowledge him, so Aiba picks up a magazine left on the seat and flips through the pages. “Ah, come to think of it, where are we going?”
Becky sighs. “Suzuka Zoo.”
“A zoo?” Aiba perks up immediately. “I love zoos!” He frowns. “Why does it seem like you don’t like zoos?”
“It’s not that I don’t like the zoo, it’s more like the zoo doesn’t like us.”
“Why?”
“Director-san…burned some bridges…but then he tells me we must have an animal segment. MUST! So now I have to go aaaaall the way to Suzuka Zoo to negotiate for a common marmoset. It’s not even an extraordinary marmoset!!”
“Ah, isn’t this a picture of Chiyoda Lighthouse?” Aiba asks, holding the magazine spread up to Becky, who scowls.
“H-hey, rude! Listen when someone is talking-”
“Did you ever hear the legend of Chiyoda Lighthouse?” Aiba asks, eyes shining.
“Yeah, about the lovers and the little girl, right?”
“Ye-wait, huh?”
“You know. There was a young couple on the beach who spotted a little girl drowning. They dived in to save her and resurfaced near Chiyoda. She told them someone was waiting for her in there, but when they took her in, the door slammed after them…she was really the one waiting for them.”
Aiba jumps as the train makes a noise.
“But that’s just a silly superstition, why even bring it up?” Becky asks, crossing her arms.
“I was just thinking it would be funny if Sho-chan went to discover the secret behind a haunted lighthouse.” Aiba says, flipping past the magazine page.
“Sakurai-san,” Becky grumbles, before begrudgingly adding, “but I guess it would be funny.”
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Screeeeeeee.
“I didn’t knock. I did not knock. The door just opened. Why are you just standing there-get back here with me! Why are you heading even closer to the door?! Oi. OI-!”
“I thought I heard voices out here…”
“AHHHHHHHHH-”
“Eh? Satomi-chan, is that you?!”
“Yuko-san! It’s been so long! I was hoping you would be here.”
“-HHHHHHH-”
“And the screaming boy?”
“-hhh…?”
“…My boyfriend, Aiba Masaki.”
Thirty minutes later, Aiba watches as Becky is embroiled in a tense discussion with the director of Suzuka Zoo.
“When I called earlier, I was given permission to use one of your animals for a broadcast. And then suddenly I get a call that there are no more?!”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” the zoo manager says with a shrug. “None of my staff recalls getting any kind of call like that.”
“Well check again!”
“Miss, if you keep raising your voice, I’m going to ask you to leave.” He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re scaring the animals.”
When he turns away, Becky sticks her tongue out at him before stomping back to where Aiba is. “Unbelievable! You’re scaring the animals,” she mimics in a high-pitched whine before sneering. “Says the guy wearing, like, a billion skulls. Director-san may be a lazy jerk and an idiot, but he was right to call this guy an assface.” Becky sighs. “There goes the program. Sakurai-san will be so disappointed.”
“Does Sho-chan like animals?”
“Sakurai-san.“
“You must like him a lot,” Aiba says thoughtfully.
Becky turns a violent shade of purple. “What are you talking about?!”
“Oh, sorry. You just keep saying Sakurai-san this, Sakurai-san that, so I thought…”
“He’s the star of the program I work on!” Becky sputters. “And you keep saying his name wrong!”
“You’re sure getting worked up for someone who doesn’t like him, then.”
Becky gapes. “Don’t be stupid!”
“You mean you don’t?”
“Sakurai-san is very handsome, but I don’t think it would ever work out between us.”
“Why?”
Becky opens her mouth, then seems to think better of it and shakes her head.
“What is it?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yeah!”
She purses her lips, but motions for him to come closer. “I know a secret about Sakurai-san that would make it impossible between us.”
“What? What? What is it?”
Becky motions for him to come even closer and only when he’s inches from her face does she whisper, “Sakurai-san is terrible at drawing.”
Aiba crows with laughter. “What? That’s it?”
“It’s very important for me to be with someone on the same wavelength as me.”
“So you like the artistic type, huh?”
“Definitely.”
“I guess I’m out of the equation, too, then.”
“Huh? Why are you all of a sudden…”
“People tell me I’m a terrible artist!” Aiba laughs, before scrunching up his eyebrows. “Although I think I’m quite good…”
“D-d-d-don’t be stupid. What are we even talking about? I don’t even know you!”
“Ah, that’s true.”
“Anyhow-what have you been doing all this time?!” Becky suddenly shrieks, slapping a sheaf of hay out of his hands.
“Oh, I was feeding this camel.”
“You can’t just reach in there and do that!”
“I got permission,” Aiba frowns, rubbing the sting off of his hand.
“From who?!”
“That zoo-ojiisan.”
“What zoo-” Becky turns to finally notice the tiny old man dressed in overalls and a baseball cap, who’s been standing there since the very beginning. “Oh! Hello! I’m so sorry for any trouble this one has caused!”
“This one?”
The old man laughs and shakes his head. “He was no trouble at all. He was actually helping me out a great deal.” He limps over to the edge of the enclosure to pat the camel on the head. “Caramel-chan came to Suzuka Zoo a few weeks ago, but she hasn’t been eating at all. We were afraid we would have to take her back-but she seems to have taken a liking to this young fella.”
Aiba sticks his tongue out at Becky and she rolls her eyes back at him.
“I overheard your conversation with the manager…it’s true they don’t have any marmosets at this zoo, but if you like, you could borrow Caramel-chan for your filming.”
“Thank you,” Becky says drily, “but I doubt that rotten manager-ah, I mean, I doubt the manager will let us borrow her.”
“Don’t be so hard on him. He seems tough, what with all those skulls and spikes he wears, but he’s actually very nice. I’ll talk to him.”
“Um, thank you very much, but…” Becky trails off, looking at his zookeeper overalls and the frayed handkerchief around his neck.
“Ah, you’re wondering what a doddering old man can do, eh?” He looks up and grins and Becky gasps with recognition.
“Sh-Sh-Sh-” she stutters, pointing at him with wide eyes. “Shimura Ken-san?!”
“Wait, zoo-ojiisan is-?”
“Aiiiin!” he says, moving his hand under his chin.
Aiba bursts out laughing and applauds while Becky continues to gape. “Why-but why are you…?”
“Daigo-kun is a friend of mine. When I heard he was having trouble with Caramel-chan, I thought I might come and help-but it was really Aiba-kun that got her to eat.”
“He knows your name,” Becky whispers behind her hand to Aiba in disbelief.
“So, would you like to film with Caramel-chan?”
“Y-yes please!”
Shimura, and a grumpy-faced Daigo, wave them off on the transport vehicle just ten minutes later. Once they’re on the road, Becky furiously shouts into her phone, “Camels! We need secret facts about camels! What do you mean what happened to the marmosets-just research! Go!”
Aiba pats Caramel-chan and feeds her some hay.
When they arrive at the studio, Becky tells him to wait, so he waits next to the camera crew and doesn’t even see Becky until she slinks next to him just before filming starts.
“On today’s Himitsu no Nippon-chan,” Matsushima announces, before they let Caramel-chan in through the curtains and Sho falls right out of his seat.
“You’re hired.”
“Ah, thanks, I-ehhh?!” His jaw goes slack. “What? I-what?”
Becky smiles, amused. “Do you not want a job?”
“No-I-I thought this wasn’t an interview?”
“I lied.” Becky grins. “Nino said that you’re no good at conventional interviews, but if I spent one afternoon with you, I’d definitely want you on my team. And he was right.” Becky’s eyes twinkle. “Welcome, assistant to the assistant to the director.”
“Your cousin seems nice.”
“Mm, I wish she could have stayed longer, but I didn’t want to keep her. I know she’s been waiting for Kusanagi-san’s return.”
“Kusanagi-san?”
“Oh, sorry! Yuko-san’s husband. He’s a tuna fisherman.”
“Ehhhhh?!”
“What, what, what is it? Why so you look so shiny-eyed all of a sudden?”
“That is only the single most coolest job ever. Why didn’t we go to lunch with them like Yuko-san offered?”
“After a month apart, I figured they would rather spend their first few hours together, alone and uninterrupted.”
“But tuna…”
“Besides, I wanted to spend some time here with you.”
“Alone and uninterrupted?”
“Wipe that perverted smile off your face…”
“It is really pretty up here, though. It’s like you can see to the very end of the world. It’s somehow…nostalgic.”
“Mm, the air up here is fresher, too, and hey, listen. Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Hush, wait for it.”
“…”
“You heard it, right?”
“What?”
“The echo of the ocean.”
“Aiba-kun! Where have you been?!”
“Yo, Becky!” Aiba says, holding up his bags from the convenience store. “You told me to get lunchboxes, remem-”
“Becky-san,” Becky snaps. “But more importantly you-you-a-a-a-achoo!”
“I-a-a-a?”
“Get dressed!”
“Are my pants down again?” Aiba yips, nearly dropping the bags in alarm.
“No,” Becky groans. “Both Matsushi-shi-shima-san and Nakajima-san-and Sakurai-san and and and I can’t-”
“Becky,” Aiba says, putting down his bags and taking her by her flailing arms. “Breathe. What’s happening?”
“Matsushima-san and Nakajima-san are completely out of commission with the flu. And Sakurai-san just lost one of his contacts and he doesn’t have his glasses, so he won’t be able to read anything, and-and you need to go on!”
“Haa?”
“Achoo!” Becky blows her nose with a wrinkled tissue from her jacket pocket, and her nose looks raw and red after. “I would do it myself, but there’s no way I can be on camera like this.”
“But I don’t…”
“Aiba-kun, please,” Becky pleads, eyes watery from more than sneezing all day. “This is the first time I’ve been allowed to direct an episode myself and I-I can’t-a-ah…”
Aiba sticks his finger under Becky’s nose, stifling the sneeze. “What do I need to do?”
Becky’s entire face lights up. “All you have to do is wheel in the sign board after Sakurai-san announces the mystery guest. When he asks about her special skill, you’re going to unveil the answer. And then you’re going to read the answer. And then you’re going to exit as soon as they get into the conversation. Okay?”
“Okay, okay.”
Which is how Aiba finds himself dressed like a waiter, or a bartender or something-bowtie and cummerbund and all-on standby just on the other side of the mystery curtain.
“Please welcome Kuroki Meisa-san!” Sho calls and Aiba does a double-take. There’s no way that…
“Aiba-kun!” Becky hisses from the side and Aiba jumps, almost knocks the board completely over, but manages to keep it upright with both hands. Becky motions for him to hurry up so he does, and sure enough, sitting next to Sho on the plush, velvet sofa is the same Kuroki Meisa he knows from summers in Okinawa. She looks nervous, eyebrows sharper than ever, and she’s biting on her bottom lip in a very uncharacteristic manner. She catches his eye and her expression melts into confusion, recognition, and bewilderment. Aiba knows the feeling, but does the only thing he can think to do and shoots her a thumbs-up from the inside his jacket. She looks no less confused, but manages a small smile.
“And Kuroki Meisa-san’s secret skill is…”
“A-Ah!” Aiba blurts out before removing the cover on the board and reading, “Murder…ing.”
There’s a moment of intense silence where Aiba can’t quite pinpoint why something feels off. Then the audience bursts into hysterical laughter, Meisa’s mouth drops open, and even Sho covers his mouth with one hand. Thankfully Sho is a professional, turns toward Meisa with a disarming smile and continues, “So, Kuroki-san, your secret skill is murdering.”
Meisa stifling a laugh, as she shakes her head. “No, no, that’s sword fighting. Sword fighting.”
“Ah, sword fighting. What a shame, I have a list…” Sho trails off, and the audience eats it up.
Aiba takes this cue to leave and retreat next to Becky’s side. “Becky, I’m-”
“We’ll edit it out,” she whispers, refusing to look at him. She doesn’t say another word for the rest of filming.
“You know, Kusanagi-san’s family has been the caretakers of the lighthouse for the past several generations. The Kusanagi men would follow a calling to the ocean while the women would stay and take care of the lighthouse, making sure to protect the beacon that would bring their men home, safe and sound. But as time passed, the men of the Kusanagi family went on to ignore their calling-at least, that’s what Kusanagi-san told us that first day we met him here. He said that he would definitely go back to the sea when he was old enough.
“But then he was sidetracked by a period of teenage rebellion and wanted to be a gangster, and then he became a responsible adult and got a government job like his brother. But eventually he realized he wasn’t happy like this. It was a hard decision, leaving a stable job for a life out on the sea, but Yuko-san said she would take care of the lighthouse in his stead, so he could always find his way back to her. Isn’t that so sweet?”
“So what’s the biggest tuna he’s ever caught?”
“Were you not listening to their romantic story at all? You’re the one who asked about it!”
“What, no, I was totally listening to that fascinating thing you just said…”
“Hmph! Why are you so interested in tuna fishing anyway?”
“Ah, that? I kind of wanted to be a tuna fisherman when I was younger.”
“A tuna fisherman?”
“Yeah, I don’t remember why…probably a manga I read? I have a really clear image of it for some reason. Of being bundled up in layers of clothing-puffy jackets and scarves and gloves and all-of being out on the ocean, breathing in the crisp, pure air, of a fishing a tuna out of an iceberg-filled sea…”
“That sounds nice.”
“Really? You’re not gonna laugh?”
“Why would I laugh?”
“Everyone else always did…they said I must be joking.”
“Well, I’m sure Kusanagi-san was met with the same kind of condescension, but he certainly proved them wrong.”
“Yeah…I guess he did. I guess anyone could if they really, really put their heart into it, right?”
“Aiba-kun! Hey, Aiba-kun!”
Aiba barely turns his head toward the call before Meisa barrels straight into him, tackling him into a hug. “Mmph!”
“What are you doing here?!” she exclaims after releasing him. “I was super shocked, you know!”
“I work here. What are you doing here? Well, I mean I guess I know now. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“It was a last-minute thing. The director of our school was supposed to come, but he came down with a flu last minute-it seems to be going around.” Meisa shrugs, before grinning. “By the way, it’s been too long since you last visited! You should come to Okinawa sometime soon. I bet Ohno-kun would really like that.”
“I can’t believe Ohno is still in Okinawa. He told me he usually never stays in the same place for more than a year at a time.”
“He seems to be enjoying himself-has gotten really tan from always being out in the sun. You know, he even has some kind of barter system in place, so he’s always paying for his food with art.”
“Ohno really lives in his own world and drags people along with him, huh?” Aiba asks, shaking his head. “How are you two doing, by the way?”
Meisa smiles and holds up her pinky.
“Congrats!”
“Thank you, thank you,” Meisa replies, lowering her head shyly. “And thanks for what you did in there.”
“For calling you a skilled murderer on national TV?”
“No.” She smacks him lightly on the shoulder. “I was really nervous, but seeing a friendly face helped.”
“I’m just glad Sho-chan-ah, Sakurai-san-is a professional. He led the crowd right back into focus.”
Aiba walks her to her the front door and waves her off in her taxi. Maybe it is time for another summer vacation in Okinawa. Everyone’s been so busy since they graduated-it would be nice to get the gang back together. Maybe even Becky might want to…
Something thunks against his shoulder and he blinks. “Ah, Becky! I was just thinking about you!”
“R-really?” Becky blinks, before crossing her arms. “I mean, it’s Becky-san. And you seem awfully chummy with someone you just called a murderer.”
Oh, shoot. “Oh, shoot. I’m really sorry, I-”
“Do you know her?”
“Huh? Who?”
Becky frowns. “Kuroki Meisa, obviously.”
“Oh. She’s a friend of a friend-ah, Nino and Masami know her, too. I never thought I’d see her in Tokyo, though. I didn’t even know she was into sword fighting! That was pretty cool, huh?”
“Hmm.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Aiba frowns, suddenly remembering. “I really am sorry about the filming. I know this was your chance to prove yourself as a director. I’ll do anything to make it up-”
“A director’s role isn’t to make sure things go perfectly,” Becky cuts him off, holding a hand up to ward off his apology. “To film something enjoyable is the most important thing.”
“So why do you look so put off?”
“I don’t!”
“You do.”
“I said it’s nothing!”
“If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be so agitated.”
Becky gapes at him open-mouthed, makes swirly arm movements, and then crosses her arms again with a pout. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes!”
“I…I…well, too bad!” Becky yells, taking off in the opposite direction.
“Say, Satomi, what did you want to be when you grew up?”
“Hmm, you know, no one’s ever asked me that.”
“No one? No way! That’s all everyone’s ever asked me!”
“No, it’s true. My mom used to say that I learned how to dance before I learned how to walk-the first memory I can recall is of my mother, pulling up my ballet shoes because I didn’t know how. The teachers said I had the aptitude for it, so I just continued dancing until one day, one of my instructors sent in a recording of my performance to the Royal Ballet School. And from then on, well… “
“Ahh, that sounds so nice, so straightforward. No thinking, just living. How great you knew what you wanted to do since you were little.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?”
“Well, I didn’t always want to be a ballerina…”
“You didn’t always want to be a ballerina?! You just said you knew how to dance before you knew how to walk! I thought ballet was your whole life.”
“It was. I mean, it still is, and I love it. But, I never thought about doing ballet when I grew up. It just…happened.”
“Then what did you want to be?”
“No laughing, okay?”
“Never.”
“I…since I was a little girl, I always wanted to be a nurse.”
“A nurse?”
“I know, it sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
“Not silly. I mean, only silly in that I bet most nurses would rather dream about being ballerinas instead of the other way around…but why a nurse?”
“I…remember I told you I how I broke my leg?”
“Yeah, when you were in fourth grade. You were climbing a tree in order to save a kitten, right?”
“Yeah…unfortunately, although the kitten landed on its feet, I did not. So my parents rushed me to the hospital, and we had to wait ages and ages for the doctor to finally see us. He said it was nothing to worry about at all, set my leg in a cast, prescribed a night in the hospital just so they could keep an eye on me, make sure I didn’t go climbing any more trees. And then he left, and then my parents had to leave, and I was all alone.
“But just when I felt like crying, one of the nurses came to check up on me. She said that the kitten must have been a very lucky one because of all the trouble I went through for it. She squeezed my hand in hers and told me everything would be all right, and her hand was so warm and comforting. She said that morning would be here soon enough, but if I was still feeling a little scared, maybe an extra chocolate pudding cup would help. She was…really, really nice.”
“Mm, so why didn’t you ever try becoming a nurse?”
“I was scared, to be honest.”
“Scared?”
“It’s like-I knew. In my heart of hearts I knew that I could become a ballerina, you know? There was nothing scary about it-it was straightforward and simple. No thinking, just living, right? But being a nurse? Holding people’s lives in my clumsy hands that couldn’t even hang on to a measly tree branch? Forming connections with people, sharing empathy…being that one beacon of warmth to a stranger? I didn’t think I had it in me.”
His NG doesn’t get cut from the show. His mother turns on the TV and Aiba watches his goof play out as if in slow motion. Mapo tofu drips from his mouth as he gapes in horror.
“Masaki-hey, Masaki, isn’t that you?!” his mother gasps, hands over his mouth. “This is so exciting! My son is a television star! Wait, but what did you call that nice young lady?”
He gets called into the producer’s office the following week, after everyone is sent home for the night. Aiba’s spent the whole day on pins and needles, and now he’s pretty sure he’s going to be fired. He’s mostly afraid that somehow he will get Becky fired, too, so he lines up his apologies, polishes and practices them until he has it memorized and is in no danger of calling anyone else a murderer. What he doesn’t expect when walking into the producer’s office is to see both the director and Sho standing there with him. What he really never, ever could have possibly expected in his wildest dreams is that the first words out of the producer’s mouth would be, “YOU, do you want a job?”
“What?”
“We’ve kept it under wraps, but both Nakajima and Matsushima have decided to move on from the show. Instead of undertaking a solo hosting job, Sakurai-kun thinks it might be better to have a co-host. Someone he can banter with.” The director chuckles. “Besides, your ideas inspired some of our more highly rated episodes-like that lighthouse segment. Right, Sakurai?”
He pokes at Sho’s ribs in-between fits of giggles and Sho coughs and lightly slaps his hands away. “While that wasn’t particularly my favorite segment, Koichi-san is right. I think the energy from our last show was one of the best.” He smiles and offers a hand. “I’d really like to work with you, Aiba-san.”
“Say, Masaki, do you…”
“Do I…?”
“Do you have any regrets?”
“About what?”
“The choices you’ve made after you’ve made them, or even before you’ve made them. Do you ever wonder what could have happened if you lived a different life?”
“I’m not a very regretful person.”
“I should have guessed that.”
“Especially because…you know, all my choices in this life led me to you.”
“Oh…”
“Do you have any regrets?”
Aiba must be dreaming. He pinches his face just outside the producer’s office and it hurts, but he still can’t really believe it. Can someone really go from assisting the assistant to the director to being on television for a living? No, he has to be dreaming. He pinches himself one more time for good measure, but by the time he gets to the end of the hallway, his cheeks still hurt.
“This is Himitsu no Nippon-chan!”
Aiba blinks. That’s Becky’s voice. He smiles and jogs over to the set, catches her sitting on the red couch, her trusty clipboard on her lap as she taps her pen against her thigh. “Applause, applause, applause. And then…zoom in from camera two and…”
Aiba’s smile grows wider. “Becky!”
“Becky-san,” Becky huffs without looking up, but even she can’t fight a smile when she finally does. “What are you doing here so late?”
“Ah, I…” Aiba trails off, still not sure how to even phrase it in words.
“Well, since you’re here, want to help me decorate the set for the Christmas segment?”
“Uh, sure.”
They work in complete silence except for Becky humming randoms strings of one Christmas carol, before moving into the chorus of a completely different one. They set up a large tree just behind the couch and begin decorating it, but when Aiba reaches for an ornament in the box just as Becky does, when his hand meets hers for a brief second, they both jerk back in surprise.
“Oh, sorry. Um. After you.”
“No, no, ladies first.”
“Oi, who are you saying that to?” Aiba grunts and Becky just laughs in that way she does.
“I think that’s everything,” Becky says after about an hour’s work, wiping the dust from her skirt. “Thanks for your help!”
“Yeah, no problem.” Aiba replies, jamming his hands into his sweater pockets. His fingers slip around a piece of paper and he remembers. “Oh yeah!”
“What?”
Aiba takes out a crumpled piece of paper, smooths it out on the thigh of his jeans, before handing it to her. “It’s my New Year’s card-I thought I would give it to you now.” It was the only thing he could think to do after seeing his NG on TV, after being so sure he would get fired. He just…wanted to say goodbye, and sorry, and everything his mouth could never really properly say.
“Not a Christmas card?” Becky asks, nose wrinkled as she looks at the paper every which way. “What…is it?”
“It’s a cow.”
“That’s a cow?!”
Aiba pouts.
“I mean, I see it. Totally. Yeah…um, thanks.” She laughs, tucking it into her giant bag. “Thanks. It’s great.”
“Hey, want to get something to eat?” Aiba says, wondering when it got so warm in here.
“Wh-what?”
“Food. Are you hungry?”
“No. I mean, no.”
“That means the same thing.”
“I mean I’m not hungry.” Becky’s stomach growls as if on cue. She coughs to cover the sound.
“If you don’t want to eat with me, you just have to say it.” Aiba frowns, digging his hands further into his pockets. He just…wanted to celebrate. “I guess I’ll be off then,” he says when Becky continues to stare at a point on the floor in complete silence. He heads for the door only to hear Becky’s hurried footsteps chasing after him.
“No, sorry, that’s not!” Becky cuts off, colliding straight into his back when he stops. “That is-ah!” She freezes, stares just above them and Aiba follows her gaze to…ah.
Mistletoe.
“Becky-san, do you hate-”
“Kiss me.”
“What?!”
Becky turns a violent shade of red. “Don’t make me say it again,” she whispers.
“I thought you liked Sho-chan,” he blurts out.
“Don’t be stupid.”
Aiba closes his eyes, leans in and tries really, really hard not to be.
His head bumps into hers and she laughs, pulls his face closer with her hands and shuts him up before he can say anything stupid.
“So why were you here so late anyway?” Becky asks, taking his hand shyly into hers as they step out of the studio.
“Oh, that’s because…”
“Oh, wait! Before I forget, did you hear the news?” Becky interrupts, bright-eyed. “I can’t believe I totally forgot to mention it! Apparently Matsushima-san and Nakajima-san didn’t want to renew their contracts, so they’re looking for a new co-host for Sakurai-san.”
“Ah, as a matter of fact…”
“Ahh, I was kind of thinking I would ask to be considered.”
“Eh?”
“For the position as Sakurai-san’s co-host.”
“Didn’t you want to be a director?”
“Well, I got this position because it was the only one available…but more than anything I’ve wanted to star in a variety show since I was a child.”
“Really?”
“Yup!” Becky grins. “It’s a long-shot, but I would really regret it if I never even asked.”
“Yeah…”
“I heard they’ve even pulled out all the stops for a super secret star guest for the first episode of the new year!”
“G-great…”
“But, oh yeah. Sorry!” Becky shakes her head and squeezes his hand. “I always yell at you for interrupting, but here I am cutting you off. You were saying?”
“Huh?”
“You’re here late because?”
“Oh…that’s…”
I am your thought but the water’s amnesia
my name is on the tip of your tongue…
PART 3
From: cupid_johnny
Title: Echo
Pairing: Aiba Masaki/Horikita Maki • Aiba Masaki/Becky • Ishihara Satomi/Ohno Satoshi • Ishihara Satomi/Matsumoto Jun . . .
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. Life is about chances and choices. (For history’s sake, would you please take notice?)
A/N: What can one even say to half of the most fabulous mod team, to whom anonymity rarely exists, except-surprise! ♥♥♥
“Ah, isn’t that-it is, it is!”
“What? What?”
“Look over there!”
“I’m driving.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot…”
“You always do…”
“Anyway, I can see the tip of the Inubosaki lighthouse from here. It brings back so many memories…”
Three (Tidal Wave)
He releases her, stares at his twitching fingers and is it just his imagination or is his hand tingling? Has it always felt this way, Maki’s hand in his? She doesn’t seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, though, prances ahead and hops the steps two at a time before glancing back at him, hands on her hips.
“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Maki calls, smile wide and brilliant and Aiba suddenly remembers why, on these very stairs two years ago, he made an unwitting confession.
“Maki-chan!”
“Hmm?”
Something cold hits his forehead and he laughs, giddy and explosive. He’s completely forgotten what he wanted to say. And suddenly it’s pouring down upon them and he can’t do anything but run up the stairs, pushing Maki along ahead of him. “We should get out of this rain!”
“Memories?”
“Yeah. When I still lived in Tokyo, my parents and I would visit my aunt and uncle here every summer. They live juuust down that road over there. So while our parents were catching up and playing cards, my cousin and I would walk down the shoreline and stay until long after the sun set and the water turned silver under the moonlight. It was what I looked forward to the most every year, the Inubosaki lighthouse at night. It always felt like the current and the heavens were colliding in this one, beautiful place.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Mmhm.”
“Say, I have a story about Inubosaki lighthouse, too.”
“Really? What story?”
“China?!”
“China.”
“Why China?”
“If I have to run a windshield factory, I’m going to run a windshield empire.”
“B-but what happened to Koshien or bust?”
“Everyone’s got to have a plan B.”
Aiba doesn’t. He doesn’t even have a plan A. “Must be nice.”
“What?”
“Having your life all figured out already. You’ve known what you were going to do since you were born.”
“You know most people in my situation spend their whole lives trying to fight against it. It’s not that great to have someone else decide your entire future.”
“It’s better than wandering around aimlessly, feeling like you’ve been left behind by everyone.” It’s a little over dramatic, even Aiba will admit, and he can almost hear Nino rolling his eyes all the way from Tokyo University. “Really, though. Sometimes it feels like you all already know what you want to do with your lives and I’m stuck here. A math major.”
“I thought you liked math.”
“I’m good at math-there’s a difference.”
“So why don’t you-ah, damn it Pikachu!”
“…Are you playing Pokemon while your best friend is having a mid-midlife crisis?!”
“Uh…no? I named my Dragon Quest hero, Pikachu, duh.”
“Maki-chan is officially my new best friend.”
“She’s leaving you, too, you know.”
“What?!”
“America. For a year. She said she mentioned it to you.”
“I think I would remember that!”
“No you wouldn’t.”
“You may be right.” Aiba frowns, tries to think back, but draws a blank. “How did you guys even hear about study abroad anyway?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Um?”
“There are fliers for it everywhere-pasted on every wall of my school’s student center, even.”
“We don’t have a student center.”
“Aiba…”
“Okay, I wouldn’t know even if we did,” Aiba admits, before frowning. “Wait, so you guys are leaving me behind figuratively and literally?!”
“If that freaks you out so much, why don’t you just study abroad, too?”
“Where would I go? Where do math majors go?”
“I don’t know. Just close your eyes and point to a destination on a map or something.”
“Oh! Oh! That! I can do that! Here wait one second!” Aiba says, throwing his phone onto the bed and rooting under Yamapi’s bed for a map he bought at the beginning of term because he said it was soulful to hang a map on your wall. Only the off-brand sticky tack Yamapi used never quite stuck, and the poster always ended up a crumpled mess on his bed before he finally chucked it under the bed. “Okay-get ready-Aiba Masaki is going to study abroad next year-in-in-wait for it-!” Aiba smacks his finger down and eagerly opens his eyes. “The Pacific Ocean.”
Nino dies laughing over the phone.
“Hey, the odds were against me, okay! The world is eighty percent water!”
“Seventy.” Nino snickers. “I thought you were good at numbers.”
“Whatever. Maybe I’ll just become a tuna fisherman.”
“There’s no tuna in the Pacific Ocean.”
“How can that-wait, you don’t know that.”
“Nope, I don’t,” Nino admits, laughing harder now.
Aiba frowns, swirls his finger around the map until his eyes spin and cross until they land on… “London.”
“London? London’s cool, but why London?”
“I don’t know…but London does sound cool.”
Aiba finds out just how cool London is during the second half of junior year. London has everything: the sights, the sounds, the smells-the fries. He eats fish and chips for his first five meals in a row and has no regrets. Best of all, he’s not alone. He knows Narimiya Hiroki from philosophy and Matsuda Shota from psychology and the three of become pretty inseparable over the course of the school term. Until both Nari and Shota find girlfriends and the three of them becomes the five of them.
Aiba likes Shihori and Yuriko, and though they try their best to not leave Aiba out, it sometimes has the opposite effect of making him feel like the fifth wheel. Which is exactly how Aiba ends up in Covent Garden early on one Friday morning. Shihori wants see an opera, Yuriko has a macabre fascination for old churches, and Aiba is still not sure why they had to get up this early for either.
“There’s death around St. Paul’s church,” Yuriko murmurs, eyes glazing over as she points to a spot just to the left of the entrance.
“Let’s go take a picture,” Shota replies, popping the lens from his camera and taking her by the arm. They glide off dreamily and Aiba shudders. He really doesn’t understand Shota’s taste in women.
Nari slides his hand into Shihori’s, and Aiba sees the slightest smile bloom over her lips. He turns his head to the side and coughs.
“I’m still hungry, so I’m going to grab some more food. I’ll meet you guys in time for the show!” he says, shooting them a thumbs-up before jogging off in the opposite direction to give them some alone time. He’s heading back towards the stand with the most amazing cheese fries when he bumps straight into something.
Rather, someone.
“Ah! Sorry, sorry!” Aiba says at once in English, one of the few phrases he’s learned not to mess up, bowing his head and pressing his hands together in apology. No answer. Aiba opens his eyes and blinks.
“Wow,” he breathes after a moment, unable to look away. How can he describe it in English? “Very, very nice.”
There’s no answer, just the swish swish of brush on canvas. Aiba glances at the artist and blinks again.
“Say, are you Japanese?” he asks excitedly.
Silence.
“How long do you have to practice before you get that good?”
Silence.
“I like painting, but I’m not very good at all.”
Silence.
“So, not Japanese, huh.” Aiba frowns, bringing his hand to his chin. “How can I ask what he’s painting in English…”
“…A falling star.”
“Hey, you are Japanese!” Aiba laughs, before squinting. “It looks like a yellow umbrella.”
“Hmm.”
“You’re a funny guy,” Aiba laughs, slapping him on the back. “What’s your name?”
He looks at Aiba with round, unblinking eyes. “Ohno Satoshi.”
Aiba takes Ohno’s hand, never mind the paint, and grins as he shakes it. “Aiba Masaki. Nice to meet you!”
“So I heard this story from my grandmother, who heard it from her best friend.”
“Uh-huh.”
“When my grandmother’s best friend was just a little girl, she actually lived right around here, too.”
“Oh, where?”
“Uhhhhh, she didn’t say. But it was close by, probably. Anyway, so when my grandmother’s best friend was a little girl, the lighthouse was still in use. So my grandmother’s best friend’s mother, no wait, her sister-”
“What was her name?”
“Huh?”
“Your grandmother’s best friend. What was her name? Maybe I know her.”
“How should I know?”
“So when your grandmother never told you the name of her best friend?”
“Her name was Ai-baba Ma…nabu?”
“Is this a poor beginning to a ghost story?”
“Wuh-well, maybe? But it’s a good one, trust me. So-”
“Turn the car around.”
“Huh?”
“Turn the car around.”
“Aiba-kun.”
Aiba stirs just as the crescent of red sun disappears from between his eyelids. He cracks an eye open and grins. “Yo, Maki-chan.”
“You’re going to get sunburned,” Maki tsks, wiggling a bottle of sunscreen over his head.
She stretches out on the sand beside him as he applies the cream over his face and neck. “Good?”
Maki reaches over and rubs at his nose. “Good.” Her thumb is cold against his skin and she’s still dripping wet from a dip in the ocean, face flushed and glowing. “How does it feel to finally be back?”
“I loved it there, but there’s really no place like Japan.”
Maki smiles. “Did your English get any better?”
“Would you believe me if I said it did?”
Maki laughs and shakes her head.
“How was America?”
“America was great!” Maki beams, chattering in her familiar tone and pace and it’s so comfortable, so familiar. His eyes start to flitter, flutter-Maki pokes him in the ribs. “Hey, don’t ask if you don’t want an answer.”
“N-no, sorry. Jetlag.”
“Hmm,” Maki says, nodding without really agreeing. “Ohno-san is nice.”
“He’s an interesting one, isn’t he?”
“You surprised us by showing up with some random guy.”
“I was surprised. I went to say goodbye, mentioned that I was heading to Okinawa and that I planned to do some fishing here, and suddenly he’s packing up his things and buying a one-way ticket at the airport with me.” Aiba grins slyly. “But hey, I wasn’t the only one who brought someone along.”
He glances out into the ocean, where Masami is dunking Nino’s blond head under water. He doesn’t resurface, and Masami cocks her head to the side, confused, worried, before suddenly being tackled from below and pulled underwater. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Boys, Maki-chan. You must have them lining up for your attention.”
“Haa?”
“Don’t you haa me. What about Yamapi? Wasn’t there…?”
“Yamashita-kun?” she chokes back a laugh. “I mean, we flirted, sure, but I wasn’t looking for anything serious. Besides, he’s dating Aragaki-san.”
“Ah, Yui-chan? I can see them working well together-but wait! Don’t change the subject! There must be some guy? What about Ryo-chan?”
Maki blinks. “Who?”
“You know, Ryo-chan. Short. Osakan.”
Maki shakes her head.
“Looks kind of like Gachapin?”
“Ohh, Nishikido-kun? Hmm, the last time I talked to him, he asked if he could call me Maki-chan…but I don’t think we ever spoke after that.”
“That was probably his way of confessing,” Aiba mutters, shaking his head.
“Eh?”
“No, nothing. I guess Keiko-chan can make her move now.”
Maki smiles a little, shaking her head. “You’re always so enthusiastically involved in everyone’s life.”
“Are you calling me a busybody?”
“No,” she replies, bumping her shoulder against his. “Just someone who really loves people.”
“I’ll accept that.” Aiba nods, before glancing at Maki suspiciously from the corner of his eyes. “But seriously, not a single special someone?”
“No, no one special. I’m trying to concentrate on my studies, you know that.”
“A waste, Maki-chan!” Aiba groans. “You’re depriving all the young men of Japan!”
“So dramatic.” Maki wrinkles her nose. “What about you? No special someone in London? Just Ohno-san?”
“No there wasn’t-wait, what are you trying to imply?”
“Just that if you were interested in Ohno-san, he seems more interested in someone else.”
“Nino?”
Maki giggles.
“I guess it’s true that taken men are more attractive-”
“Oiiiii!” Speaking of the devil. Nino and his highlighter head races towards them from across the beach, kicking up sand the entire way, tugging Masami along by the hand. “Are you guys thirsty?”
“We’re going to stop by the convenience store,” Masami adds, breathless and rosy-cheeked.
“Yeah, I could use a drink,” Aiba replies, suddenly feeling parched.
“I left my wallet with Kuroki, though-spot me?”
Aiba reaches into the pockets of his capri pants and slips him some money.
“Lemon Tea for Maki-chan, right?” Maki gives Nino a thumbs-up. “Milkis, Aiba?”
“Nah, Lemon Tea for me, too.”
“Roger!” And Nino is off again, giggling away with Masami. He watches them until they are just wavy blurs in the summer haze.
“Hey, want to hear something funny?” Maki asks suddenly, but judging by the look on her face she’s the one bursting to tell him.
“Always.”
“Nino cuts a hole into the lining of every pair of shoes he owns.”
“Huh? What does that have to do with anything?”
“He does it so that he always has emergency money on him no matter where he goes. He owes you 3500 yen since high school.”
“What? Do you know how many drinks I’ve bought him?!” Aiba cries, before relenting. “Well, he was barefoot this time, so I guess it’s okay.” Maki’s grin threatens to crack her face straight in two and Aiba groans. “What else?”
“He also sews a little pocket on the inside of every pair of pants he owns-including swim trunks-in case of emergency.”
“Money-grubbing troll,” Aiba mutters. Maki doubles over in laughter at that, wheezing and wiping away tears.
“You know, you’ve always paid a lot of attention to the things Nino does,” Aiba murmurs without really thinking.
“Have I?” Maki asks, straightening up at once.
“You even went to every single one of his baseball games-even when he was just a benchwarmer.”
“None of his family ever went.”
“That’s it!” Aiba exclaims, pounding a fist into his open palm. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked him!”
He expects Maki’s laughter to explode at that, but she just blinks and splays her fingers against her cheeks.
“Ah. Mm, yeah. I used to.”
Aiba gapes. “Nino?”
“Yup.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not that funny.”
“But Nino.”
“I feel like you’re insulting Masami-chan now…”
“I just…why?”
“Why, you ask,” Maki trails off thoughtfully. She leans back against her arms, raising her head toward the sun. “I don’t know. I don’t think I really thought about it. The first time I saw him, he was playing baseball with his sisters at the park and he was such a tiny little thing. They always picked on him, said someone so small could never go to Koshien, but that just made him work harder. He would stay in the park and practice even after they went home. It was hard to watch his effort and not admire him.” It’s subtle, but Maki’s voice sounds softer whenever she talks about Nino, sweeter, indulgent. Even her face seems brighter. He wonders how he could have missed it. “I don’t actually remember our first meeting, only at some point, the days I knew him outnumbered the days I didn’t.”
“So why didn’t you guys ever…you know?”
Maki blinks and the look is gone. “Who knows? Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”
“That doesn’t sound like the practical Maki-chan I know.”
She laughs and shrugs her shoulders.
“Do you still like him?”
“Wha-?” Maki falls into the sand with a startled thump. “You mean as members of the opposite sex?”
Aiba grins and falls back into the sand with her. “Yeah, like that.”
“No,” she says after a moment. “How silly would it be if I still liked him in that way after all these years?”
“So you would never entertain the thought again?”
Maki purses her lips. “I don’t think anyone should speak with such finality. Life is too unpredictable for that.”
“You think that way about everything?”
“I do.”
“Everyone?”
“Mmhm.”
He looks at her, and she is in so many ways the same girl who used to find him hiding away in thickets, chiding him to go to school, but in so many ways not.
“Want me to bury you in the sand?” he asks, eyes twinkling.
“You just need an excuse to sculpt sand boobs.”
“I never need an excuse to sculpt sand boobs.”
Maki laughs and glances over his shoulder. “Nino’s back. We should get our drinks.”
“Always depriving me of sand boobs, Maki-chan…”
“Hurry up.” She laughs, flicking some sand in his direction. “Slow poke.”
“And a sparkling water for Kuroki, bleh,” Nino says, handing a bottle to Meisa just as they arrive.
“If you don’t want to sleep on the cold, cold beach, you’d do well not to bleh your hostess’s drink of choice, Nino,” Meisa replies lightly, popping the top of the drink and taking a delicate sip. Nino rolls his eyes, but looks away whistling when she raises an eyebrow at him.
“Ah, Ohno-san, your nose is burnt,” Maki says with a frown. “Do you want some sunscreen?”
“He won’t hear you, Maki-chan. Ah, it’s a lighthouse,” he says, peering over Ohno’s shoulder to his sketchbook.
“He’s been sketching it all day,” Meisa adds with some amusement. “Speaking of which, do you guys know the legend of Cape Zanpa lighthouse?”
When everyone collectively shakes their heads, Meisa grins. “Oh, then I have a treat for you! Okay, so this is a true account I heard from my friend, Yoshiko-chan, whose family has lived here for generations.”
“I’m so sure,” Nino mutters. Masami elbows him in the ribs and nods for Meisa to continue.
“Anyway, when Yoshiko-chan’s grandmother was a little girl, the lighthouse was always lit up because sailors used to come in and out every day. Yoshiko-chan’s grandmother had a sister, also named Yoshiko, who was engaged to a sailor, but because it was such a perilous job back then, she would come to the lighthouse every day he was out at sea to burn incense and sing a song for his safe return.
“But one day, on the day he was scheduled to come back, there was a fierce, raging storm. Yoshiko-san went to the lighthouse despite everyone’s warnings, stole a rowboat on the pier and rowed all the way over in the storm. She thought that if she could only make it to the lighthouse and sing her song of safe return, her beloved would come home safely as he always did…”
“Then what happened?” Masami asks breathlessly, clutching onto Nino’s shoulders with trembling hands.
“She was never seen again.”
“That’s it?” Nino asks, crossing his arms. “Boooring.”
Meisa glares at him. “I didn’t say that was it. When the sailor returned and found out Yoshiko-san had drowned, he cursed the sea and vowed to bring her back from it. He dove into the depths to find her, but he, too, was never seen again…
“And now, people say that if you listen hard enough by the shore, you’ll sometimes hear a strange creaking noise, like an unpolished hinge…only, the door has been sealed for ages…
“Other times, people have reported hearing a boom, boom, boom, like the echo of footsteps desperately climbing the stairs to the top of the lighthouse…
“And sometimes, on particularly stormy nights, some people will hear someone singing…singing…”
“Euuugh!” Masami says, ducking her head into Nino’s chest. Euuugh is right. Aiba tries his best to hide the shudder running through his spine.
“Hmm, I thought that myth was about the Inubosaki lighthouse in Chiba,” Maki says, completely unruffled.
“That’s because everyone tells the same ghost story about whatever lighthouse is most convenient, always told to them by a third party first person account to lend it some credibility to susceptible idiots,” Nino cuts in.
“For someone so blasé about ghost stories, your heart sure is beating fast, Ninotendo.”
“Ahn, it’s because you’re holding me, Masachu.”
“Oh, get a room,” Meisa says, fake vomiting to the side. Nino and Masami burst out laughing and Maki shakes her head with a smile.
Aiba laughs, but stops short when he hears a faint skritch skritch. Ohno’s back to sketching again, which means…he had stopped sketching during Meisa’s story? He glances down at Ohno’s sketchbook with some surprise. “Ah, isn’t that Meisa? I’ve never seen you draw people before.” He tilts his head to the side and squints. “What do you call this one?”
Ohno glances at him unblinkingly. “Meisa.”
“A-are you sure we should be doing this?”
“Of course.”
“But this lighthouse hasn’t been used in a long time, right? Isn’t it off limits?”
“We’ll be fine.”
“We just walked through three fences to get to this side of the shore. Not around the fences, through…”
“There were holes in those fences for a reason.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“What are you so scared of? Scaredy cat. Nya. Nyaaa. What would Hime and Uran say?”
“They would say to get the hell out of here before you get murdered in that lighthouse.”
“We are not going to get murdered.”
“Easy for you to say…the pretty ones always live to the end of horror movies because people like to watch ‘em bounce around. No one is going to want to watch me bounce. I’m doomed!”
“Oh, hush. Okay we’re at the entrance. Knock.”
“Knock?!”
“Who’s there?!”
“…That was a really cold joke.”
“It was hilarious. Now go.”
“Yo, Aiba, jobless?”
“Is that really how you’re going to start every phone call?” Aiba grumbles, stuffing his face into his pillow. “And anyway I’m not jobless, per se.”
“Being your family restaurant’s delivery boy isn’t not being jobless, per se.”
“Are you calling just to rub it in my face?”
“Yup,” Nino chuckles. “That and I’ve got a job opportunity if you’re interested. It’s only an assistant job, but…”
“I’M INTERESTED!”
Aiba shows up at a Starbucks in the heart of Tokyo dressed in his least rumpled collared shirt, a pair of black slacks, and a matching black blazer. His tie is crooked and he’s a little sweaty, but at least he’s on time. He’s just wondering why Nino told him to pin a rose in his lapel.
He glances around the café until he spots a woman around his age, dressed in a button down shirt and jeans, checking her watch with a scowl on her face. Now what did Nino say his interviewer’s name was…?
“Uhh, Becky?”
She glances up and squints. “Becky-san.”
“Oh, sorry Becky.”
She stares. “Becky-san.”
“Yes, Becky-san!” He salutes. Before promptly regretting it. He starts second guessing the idea that it’s just bad luck he still doesn’t have a job, per se.
“You’re late, Aiba-san.”
“H-huh? It’s two minutes before twelve!”
“You should always aim to be ten minutes early,” she tuts, staring him up and down. “And why are you dressed like you’re going to prom? Didn’t Nino tell you to dress comfortably?”
Of course he didn’t.
“I…um. I’m comfortable?”
She raises an eyebrow. “If you say so. Let’s go.”
“Go? Where are we going? I thought this was an interview.”
Becky blinks. “Interview? I just needed someone to help me run an errand. Masami-chan told me Nino knew someone with a lot of free time on his hands.”
Aiba scrunches up his nose. “They’re made for each other.”
Becky chuckles under her breath before hiding it behind a cough. “Let’s go, we’ll have to take the train.”
He trails after her without another word, removes his blazer and tries to loosen his tie, but instead of falling away clean, the knot jumbles even further. He’s wrestling with it in full force by the time they arrive at the turnstile, elbows high and fingers jammed into every little crevice to untangle it. Becky finally turns around after someone shouts at him to hurry the hell up. Her eyes widen and she gapes. “What the heck are you doing?!”
“Um,” he says feebly.
After he finally gets through the turnstile-she pays his fare because his card is short-she pulls him aside, away from crowds of passersby, and rolls her eyes. “What kind of grown man doesn’t even know how to tie a tie properly? You should be glad this isn’t a real interview,” she mutters, removing his hands from the knotted mess to pick between folds of fabric. After several difficult seconds she growls in frustration and moves her head closer to get a better look. Her hair is in loose, bouncy curls and smells like strawberry champagne. He sniffs and a stray flyaway flitters and flutters straight into his nose.
He sneezes.
Right on her head.
“Did you say something?”
“Nothing!” he squeaks, suddenly relieved that this is not an interview. “Uh, say, Becky.”
“Becky-san.”
“What exactly is it that you do?”
She lets out a triumphant little “aha!” before removing herself from him, taking with her a very wrinkled tie. She tosses it at him and he catches it with one hand. “Ever hear of Himitsu no Nippon-chan?”
“Himitsu no-oh! HNN? My mom watches that. She really likes, um, what’s his name?”
“Sakurai-”
“Sho-chan!”
“That’s Sakurai-san to you,” she huffs. “But I’m glad to hear your mom is a fan. I know our ratings aren’t great, not yet, but we’ve been gaining a steady following!”
Aiba nods. “Sure, so what is it that you do?”
“I’m the Assistant Director.”
“Woah, really?” She beams and flashes a peace sign at him. “But you’re, like, my age!”
Her smile falters and her fingers lower. “Well. Okay, I’m not exactly the Assistant Director, but I might as well be! I pretty much do the work for it.”
“So…what are you actually?”
She wrinkles her nose at him. “I’m…Assistant to the Director,” she mumbles under her breath.
“What?”
She frowns and repeats. “Assistant to the Director.”
“Oh.” That’s less impressive. “That’s less impressive.”
“Says the delivery boy!” Becky growls back. “Now come on. Let’s go.”
They enter a train car in complete silence after that. Becky refuses to acknowledge him, so Aiba picks up a magazine left on the seat and flips through the pages. “Ah, come to think of it, where are we going?”
Becky sighs. “Suzuka Zoo.”
“A zoo?” Aiba perks up immediately. “I love zoos!” He frowns. “Why does it seem like you don’t like zoos?”
“It’s not that I don’t like the zoo, it’s more like the zoo doesn’t like us.”
“Why?”
“Director-san…burned some bridges…but then he tells me we must have an animal segment. MUST! So now I have to go aaaaall the way to Suzuka Zoo to negotiate for a common marmoset. It’s not even an extraordinary marmoset!!”
“Ah, isn’t this a picture of Chiyoda Lighthouse?” Aiba asks, holding the magazine spread up to Becky, who scowls.
“H-hey, rude! Listen when someone is talking-”
“Did you ever hear the legend of Chiyoda Lighthouse?” Aiba asks, eyes shining.
“Yeah, about the lovers and the little girl, right?”
“Ye-wait, huh?”
“You know. There was a young couple on the beach who spotted a little girl drowning. They dived in to save her and resurfaced near Chiyoda. She told them someone was waiting for her in there, but when they took her in, the door slammed after them…she was really the one waiting for them.”
Aiba jumps as the train makes a noise.
“But that’s just a silly superstition, why even bring it up?” Becky asks, crossing her arms.
“I was just thinking it would be funny if Sho-chan went to discover the secret behind a haunted lighthouse.” Aiba says, flipping past the magazine page.
“Sakurai-san,” Becky grumbles, before begrudgingly adding, “but I guess it would be funny.”
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Screeeeeeee.
“I didn’t knock. I did not knock. The door just opened. Why are you just standing there-get back here with me! Why are you heading even closer to the door?! Oi. OI-!”
“I thought I heard voices out here…”
“AHHHHHHHHH-”
“Eh? Satomi-chan, is that you?!”
“Yuko-san! It’s been so long! I was hoping you would be here.”
“-HHHHHHH-”
“And the screaming boy?”
“-hhh…?”
“…My boyfriend, Aiba Masaki.”
Thirty minutes later, Aiba watches as Becky is embroiled in a tense discussion with the director of Suzuka Zoo.
“When I called earlier, I was given permission to use one of your animals for a broadcast. And then suddenly I get a call that there are no more?!”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” the zoo manager says with a shrug. “None of my staff recalls getting any kind of call like that.”
“Well check again!”
“Miss, if you keep raising your voice, I’m going to ask you to leave.” He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re scaring the animals.”
When he turns away, Becky sticks her tongue out at him before stomping back to where Aiba is. “Unbelievable! You’re scaring the animals,” she mimics in a high-pitched whine before sneering. “Says the guy wearing, like, a billion skulls. Director-san may be a lazy jerk and an idiot, but he was right to call this guy an assface.” Becky sighs. “There goes the program. Sakurai-san will be so disappointed.”
“Does Sho-chan like animals?”
“Sakurai-san.“
“You must like him a lot,” Aiba says thoughtfully.
Becky turns a violent shade of purple. “What are you talking about?!”
“Oh, sorry. You just keep saying Sakurai-san this, Sakurai-san that, so I thought…”
“He’s the star of the program I work on!” Becky sputters. “And you keep saying his name wrong!”
“You’re sure getting worked up for someone who doesn’t like him, then.”
Becky gapes. “Don’t be stupid!”
“You mean you don’t?”
“Sakurai-san is very handsome, but I don’t think it would ever work out between us.”
“Why?”
Becky opens her mouth, then seems to think better of it and shakes her head.
“What is it?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yeah!”
She purses her lips, but motions for him to come closer. “I know a secret about Sakurai-san that would make it impossible between us.”
“What? What? What is it?”
Becky motions for him to come even closer and only when he’s inches from her face does she whisper, “Sakurai-san is terrible at drawing.”
Aiba crows with laughter. “What? That’s it?”
“It’s very important for me to be with someone on the same wavelength as me.”
“So you like the artistic type, huh?”
“Definitely.”
“I guess I’m out of the equation, too, then.”
“Huh? Why are you all of a sudden…”
“People tell me I’m a terrible artist!” Aiba laughs, before scrunching up his eyebrows. “Although I think I’m quite good…”
“D-d-d-don’t be stupid. What are we even talking about? I don’t even know you!”
“Ah, that’s true.”
“Anyhow-what have you been doing all this time?!” Becky suddenly shrieks, slapping a sheaf of hay out of his hands.
“Oh, I was feeding this camel.”
“You can’t just reach in there and do that!”
“I got permission,” Aiba frowns, rubbing the sting off of his hand.
“From who?!”
“That zoo-ojiisan.”
“What zoo-” Becky turns to finally notice the tiny old man dressed in overalls and a baseball cap, who’s been standing there since the very beginning. “Oh! Hello! I’m so sorry for any trouble this one has caused!”
“This one?”
The old man laughs and shakes his head. “He was no trouble at all. He was actually helping me out a great deal.” He limps over to the edge of the enclosure to pat the camel on the head. “Caramel-chan came to Suzuka Zoo a few weeks ago, but she hasn’t been eating at all. We were afraid we would have to take her back-but she seems to have taken a liking to this young fella.”
Aiba sticks his tongue out at Becky and she rolls her eyes back at him.
“I overheard your conversation with the manager…it’s true they don’t have any marmosets at this zoo, but if you like, you could borrow Caramel-chan for your filming.”
“Thank you,” Becky says drily, “but I doubt that rotten manager-ah, I mean, I doubt the manager will let us borrow her.”
“Don’t be so hard on him. He seems tough, what with all those skulls and spikes he wears, but he’s actually very nice. I’ll talk to him.”
“Um, thank you very much, but…” Becky trails off, looking at his zookeeper overalls and the frayed handkerchief around his neck.
“Ah, you’re wondering what a doddering old man can do, eh?” He looks up and grins and Becky gasps with recognition.
“Sh-Sh-Sh-” she stutters, pointing at him with wide eyes. “Shimura Ken-san?!”
“Wait, zoo-ojiisan is-?”
“Aiiiin!” he says, moving his hand under his chin.
Aiba bursts out laughing and applauds while Becky continues to gape. “Why-but why are you…?”
“Daigo-kun is a friend of mine. When I heard he was having trouble with Caramel-chan, I thought I might come and help-but it was really Aiba-kun that got her to eat.”
“He knows your name,” Becky whispers behind her hand to Aiba in disbelief.
“So, would you like to film with Caramel-chan?”
“Y-yes please!”
Shimura, and a grumpy-faced Daigo, wave them off on the transport vehicle just ten minutes later. Once they’re on the road, Becky furiously shouts into her phone, “Camels! We need secret facts about camels! What do you mean what happened to the marmosets-just research! Go!”
Aiba pats Caramel-chan and feeds her some hay.
When they arrive at the studio, Becky tells him to wait, so he waits next to the camera crew and doesn’t even see Becky until she slinks next to him just before filming starts.
“On today’s Himitsu no Nippon-chan,” Matsushima announces, before they let Caramel-chan in through the curtains and Sho falls right out of his seat.
“You’re hired.”
“Ah, thanks, I-ehhh?!” His jaw goes slack. “What? I-what?”
Becky smiles, amused. “Do you not want a job?”
“No-I-I thought this wasn’t an interview?”
“I lied.” Becky grins. “Nino said that you’re no good at conventional interviews, but if I spent one afternoon with you, I’d definitely want you on my team. And he was right.” Becky’s eyes twinkle. “Welcome, assistant to the assistant to the director.”
“Your cousin seems nice.”
“Mm, I wish she could have stayed longer, but I didn’t want to keep her. I know she’s been waiting for Kusanagi-san’s return.”
“Kusanagi-san?”
“Oh, sorry! Yuko-san’s husband. He’s a tuna fisherman.”
“Ehhhhh?!”
“What, what, what is it? Why so you look so shiny-eyed all of a sudden?”
“That is only the single most coolest job ever. Why didn’t we go to lunch with them like Yuko-san offered?”
“After a month apart, I figured they would rather spend their first few hours together, alone and uninterrupted.”
“But tuna…”
“Besides, I wanted to spend some time here with you.”
“Alone and uninterrupted?”
“Wipe that perverted smile off your face…”
“It is really pretty up here, though. It’s like you can see to the very end of the world. It’s somehow…nostalgic.”
“Mm, the air up here is fresher, too, and hey, listen. Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Hush, wait for it.”
“…”
“You heard it, right?”
“What?”
“The echo of the ocean.”
“Aiba-kun! Where have you been?!”
“Yo, Becky!” Aiba says, holding up his bags from the convenience store. “You told me to get lunchboxes, remem-”
“Becky-san,” Becky snaps. “But more importantly you-you-a-a-a-achoo!”
“I-a-a-a?”
“Get dressed!”
“Are my pants down again?” Aiba yips, nearly dropping the bags in alarm.
“No,” Becky groans. “Both Matsushi-shi-shima-san and Nakajima-san-and Sakurai-san and and and I can’t-”
“Becky,” Aiba says, putting down his bags and taking her by her flailing arms. “Breathe. What’s happening?”
“Matsushima-san and Nakajima-san are completely out of commission with the flu. And Sakurai-san just lost one of his contacts and he doesn’t have his glasses, so he won’t be able to read anything, and-and you need to go on!”
“Haa?”
“Achoo!” Becky blows her nose with a wrinkled tissue from her jacket pocket, and her nose looks raw and red after. “I would do it myself, but there’s no way I can be on camera like this.”
“But I don’t…”
“Aiba-kun, please,” Becky pleads, eyes watery from more than sneezing all day. “This is the first time I’ve been allowed to direct an episode myself and I-I can’t-a-ah…”
Aiba sticks his finger under Becky’s nose, stifling the sneeze. “What do I need to do?”
Becky’s entire face lights up. “All you have to do is wheel in the sign board after Sakurai-san announces the mystery guest. When he asks about her special skill, you’re going to unveil the answer. And then you’re going to read the answer. And then you’re going to exit as soon as they get into the conversation. Okay?”
“Okay, okay.”
Which is how Aiba finds himself dressed like a waiter, or a bartender or something-bowtie and cummerbund and all-on standby just on the other side of the mystery curtain.
“Please welcome Kuroki Meisa-san!” Sho calls and Aiba does a double-take. There’s no way that…
“Aiba-kun!” Becky hisses from the side and Aiba jumps, almost knocks the board completely over, but manages to keep it upright with both hands. Becky motions for him to hurry up so he does, and sure enough, sitting next to Sho on the plush, velvet sofa is the same Kuroki Meisa he knows from summers in Okinawa. She looks nervous, eyebrows sharper than ever, and she’s biting on her bottom lip in a very uncharacteristic manner. She catches his eye and her expression melts into confusion, recognition, and bewilderment. Aiba knows the feeling, but does the only thing he can think to do and shoots her a thumbs-up from the inside his jacket. She looks no less confused, but manages a small smile.
“And Kuroki Meisa-san’s secret skill is…”
“A-Ah!” Aiba blurts out before removing the cover on the board and reading, “Murder…ing.”
There’s a moment of intense silence where Aiba can’t quite pinpoint why something feels off. Then the audience bursts into hysterical laughter, Meisa’s mouth drops open, and even Sho covers his mouth with one hand. Thankfully Sho is a professional, turns toward Meisa with a disarming smile and continues, “So, Kuroki-san, your secret skill is murdering.”
Meisa stifling a laugh, as she shakes her head. “No, no, that’s sword fighting. Sword fighting.”
“Ah, sword fighting. What a shame, I have a list…” Sho trails off, and the audience eats it up.
Aiba takes this cue to leave and retreat next to Becky’s side. “Becky, I’m-”
“We’ll edit it out,” she whispers, refusing to look at him. She doesn’t say another word for the rest of filming.
“You know, Kusanagi-san’s family has been the caretakers of the lighthouse for the past several generations. The Kusanagi men would follow a calling to the ocean while the women would stay and take care of the lighthouse, making sure to protect the beacon that would bring their men home, safe and sound. But as time passed, the men of the Kusanagi family went on to ignore their calling-at least, that’s what Kusanagi-san told us that first day we met him here. He said that he would definitely go back to the sea when he was old enough.
“But then he was sidetracked by a period of teenage rebellion and wanted to be a gangster, and then he became a responsible adult and got a government job like his brother. But eventually he realized he wasn’t happy like this. It was a hard decision, leaving a stable job for a life out on the sea, but Yuko-san said she would take care of the lighthouse in his stead, so he could always find his way back to her. Isn’t that so sweet?”
“So what’s the biggest tuna he’s ever caught?”
“Were you not listening to their romantic story at all? You’re the one who asked about it!”
“What, no, I was totally listening to that fascinating thing you just said…”
“Hmph! Why are you so interested in tuna fishing anyway?”
“Ah, that? I kind of wanted to be a tuna fisherman when I was younger.”
“A tuna fisherman?”
“Yeah, I don’t remember why…probably a manga I read? I have a really clear image of it for some reason. Of being bundled up in layers of clothing-puffy jackets and scarves and gloves and all-of being out on the ocean, breathing in the crisp, pure air, of a fishing a tuna out of an iceberg-filled sea…”
“That sounds nice.”
“Really? You’re not gonna laugh?”
“Why would I laugh?”
“Everyone else always did…they said I must be joking.”
“Well, I’m sure Kusanagi-san was met with the same kind of condescension, but he certainly proved them wrong.”
“Yeah…I guess he did. I guess anyone could if they really, really put their heart into it, right?”
“Aiba-kun! Hey, Aiba-kun!”
Aiba barely turns his head toward the call before Meisa barrels straight into him, tackling him into a hug. “Mmph!”
“What are you doing here?!” she exclaims after releasing him. “I was super shocked, you know!”
“I work here. What are you doing here? Well, I mean I guess I know now. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“It was a last-minute thing. The director of our school was supposed to come, but he came down with a flu last minute-it seems to be going around.” Meisa shrugs, before grinning. “By the way, it’s been too long since you last visited! You should come to Okinawa sometime soon. I bet Ohno-kun would really like that.”
“I can’t believe Ohno is still in Okinawa. He told me he usually never stays in the same place for more than a year at a time.”
“He seems to be enjoying himself-has gotten really tan from always being out in the sun. You know, he even has some kind of barter system in place, so he’s always paying for his food with art.”
“Ohno really lives in his own world and drags people along with him, huh?” Aiba asks, shaking his head. “How are you two doing, by the way?”
Meisa smiles and holds up her pinky.
“Congrats!”
“Thank you, thank you,” Meisa replies, lowering her head shyly. “And thanks for what you did in there.”
“For calling you a skilled murderer on national TV?”
“No.” She smacks him lightly on the shoulder. “I was really nervous, but seeing a friendly face helped.”
“I’m just glad Sho-chan-ah, Sakurai-san-is a professional. He led the crowd right back into focus.”
Aiba walks her to her the front door and waves her off in her taxi. Maybe it is time for another summer vacation in Okinawa. Everyone’s been so busy since they graduated-it would be nice to get the gang back together. Maybe even Becky might want to…
Something thunks against his shoulder and he blinks. “Ah, Becky! I was just thinking about you!”
“R-really?” Becky blinks, before crossing her arms. “I mean, it’s Becky-san. And you seem awfully chummy with someone you just called a murderer.”
Oh, shoot. “Oh, shoot. I’m really sorry, I-”
“Do you know her?”
“Huh? Who?”
Becky frowns. “Kuroki Meisa, obviously.”
“Oh. She’s a friend of a friend-ah, Nino and Masami know her, too. I never thought I’d see her in Tokyo, though. I didn’t even know she was into sword fighting! That was pretty cool, huh?”
“Hmm.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Aiba frowns, suddenly remembering. “I really am sorry about the filming. I know this was your chance to prove yourself as a director. I’ll do anything to make it up-”
“A director’s role isn’t to make sure things go perfectly,” Becky cuts him off, holding a hand up to ward off his apology. “To film something enjoyable is the most important thing.”
“So why do you look so put off?”
“I don’t!”
“You do.”
“I said it’s nothing!”
“If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be so agitated.”
Becky gapes at him open-mouthed, makes swirly arm movements, and then crosses her arms again with a pout. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes!”
“I…I…well, too bad!” Becky yells, taking off in the opposite direction.
“Say, Satomi, what did you want to be when you grew up?”
“Hmm, you know, no one’s ever asked me that.”
“No one? No way! That’s all everyone’s ever asked me!”
“No, it’s true. My mom used to say that I learned how to dance before I learned how to walk-the first memory I can recall is of my mother, pulling up my ballet shoes because I didn’t know how. The teachers said I had the aptitude for it, so I just continued dancing until one day, one of my instructors sent in a recording of my performance to the Royal Ballet School. And from then on, well… “
“Ahh, that sounds so nice, so straightforward. No thinking, just living. How great you knew what you wanted to do since you were little.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?”
“Well, I didn’t always want to be a ballerina…”
“You didn’t always want to be a ballerina?! You just said you knew how to dance before you knew how to walk! I thought ballet was your whole life.”
“It was. I mean, it still is, and I love it. But, I never thought about doing ballet when I grew up. It just…happened.”
“Then what did you want to be?”
“No laughing, okay?”
“Never.”
“I…since I was a little girl, I always wanted to be a nurse.”
“A nurse?”
“I know, it sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
“Not silly. I mean, only silly in that I bet most nurses would rather dream about being ballerinas instead of the other way around…but why a nurse?”
“I…remember I told you I how I broke my leg?”
“Yeah, when you were in fourth grade. You were climbing a tree in order to save a kitten, right?”
“Yeah…unfortunately, although the kitten landed on its feet, I did not. So my parents rushed me to the hospital, and we had to wait ages and ages for the doctor to finally see us. He said it was nothing to worry about at all, set my leg in a cast, prescribed a night in the hospital just so they could keep an eye on me, make sure I didn’t go climbing any more trees. And then he left, and then my parents had to leave, and I was all alone.
“But just when I felt like crying, one of the nurses came to check up on me. She said that the kitten must have been a very lucky one because of all the trouble I went through for it. She squeezed my hand in hers and told me everything would be all right, and her hand was so warm and comforting. She said that morning would be here soon enough, but if I was still feeling a little scared, maybe an extra chocolate pudding cup would help. She was…really, really nice.”
“Mm, so why didn’t you ever try becoming a nurse?”
“I was scared, to be honest.”
“Scared?”
“It’s like-I knew. In my heart of hearts I knew that I could become a ballerina, you know? There was nothing scary about it-it was straightforward and simple. No thinking, just living, right? But being a nurse? Holding people’s lives in my clumsy hands that couldn’t even hang on to a measly tree branch? Forming connections with people, sharing empathy…being that one beacon of warmth to a stranger? I didn’t think I had it in me.”
His NG doesn’t get cut from the show. His mother turns on the TV and Aiba watches his goof play out as if in slow motion. Mapo tofu drips from his mouth as he gapes in horror.
“Masaki-hey, Masaki, isn’t that you?!” his mother gasps, hands over his mouth. “This is so exciting! My son is a television star! Wait, but what did you call that nice young lady?”
He gets called into the producer’s office the following week, after everyone is sent home for the night. Aiba’s spent the whole day on pins and needles, and now he’s pretty sure he’s going to be fired. He’s mostly afraid that somehow he will get Becky fired, too, so he lines up his apologies, polishes and practices them until he has it memorized and is in no danger of calling anyone else a murderer. What he doesn’t expect when walking into the producer’s office is to see both the director and Sho standing there with him. What he really never, ever could have possibly expected in his wildest dreams is that the first words out of the producer’s mouth would be, “YOU, do you want a job?”
“What?”
“We’ve kept it under wraps, but both Nakajima and Matsushima have decided to move on from the show. Instead of undertaking a solo hosting job, Sakurai-kun thinks it might be better to have a co-host. Someone he can banter with.” The director chuckles. “Besides, your ideas inspired some of our more highly rated episodes-like that lighthouse segment. Right, Sakurai?”
He pokes at Sho’s ribs in-between fits of giggles and Sho coughs and lightly slaps his hands away. “While that wasn’t particularly my favorite segment, Koichi-san is right. I think the energy from our last show was one of the best.” He smiles and offers a hand. “I’d really like to work with you, Aiba-san.”
“Say, Masaki, do you…”
“Do I…?”
“Do you have any regrets?”
“About what?”
“The choices you’ve made after you’ve made them, or even before you’ve made them. Do you ever wonder what could have happened if you lived a different life?”
“I’m not a very regretful person.”
“I should have guessed that.”
“Especially because…you know, all my choices in this life led me to you.”
“Oh…”
“Do you have any regrets?”
Aiba must be dreaming. He pinches his face just outside the producer’s office and it hurts, but he still can’t really believe it. Can someone really go from assisting the assistant to the director to being on television for a living? No, he has to be dreaming. He pinches himself one more time for good measure, but by the time he gets to the end of the hallway, his cheeks still hurt.
“This is Himitsu no Nippon-chan!”
Aiba blinks. That’s Becky’s voice. He smiles and jogs over to the set, catches her sitting on the red couch, her trusty clipboard on her lap as she taps her pen against her thigh. “Applause, applause, applause. And then…zoom in from camera two and…”
Aiba’s smile grows wider. “Becky!”
“Becky-san,” Becky huffs without looking up, but even she can’t fight a smile when she finally does. “What are you doing here so late?”
“Ah, I…” Aiba trails off, still not sure how to even phrase it in words.
“Well, since you’re here, want to help me decorate the set for the Christmas segment?”
“Uh, sure.”
They work in complete silence except for Becky humming randoms strings of one Christmas carol, before moving into the chorus of a completely different one. They set up a large tree just behind the couch and begin decorating it, but when Aiba reaches for an ornament in the box just as Becky does, when his hand meets hers for a brief second, they both jerk back in surprise.
“Oh, sorry. Um. After you.”
“No, no, ladies first.”
“Oi, who are you saying that to?” Aiba grunts and Becky just laughs in that way she does.
“I think that’s everything,” Becky says after about an hour’s work, wiping the dust from her skirt. “Thanks for your help!”
“Yeah, no problem.” Aiba replies, jamming his hands into his sweater pockets. His fingers slip around a piece of paper and he remembers. “Oh yeah!”
“What?”
Aiba takes out a crumpled piece of paper, smooths it out on the thigh of his jeans, before handing it to her. “It’s my New Year’s card-I thought I would give it to you now.” It was the only thing he could think to do after seeing his NG on TV, after being so sure he would get fired. He just…wanted to say goodbye, and sorry, and everything his mouth could never really properly say.
“Not a Christmas card?” Becky asks, nose wrinkled as she looks at the paper every which way. “What…is it?”
“It’s a cow.”
“That’s a cow?!”
Aiba pouts.
“I mean, I see it. Totally. Yeah…um, thanks.” She laughs, tucking it into her giant bag. “Thanks. It’s great.”
“Hey, want to get something to eat?” Aiba says, wondering when it got so warm in here.
“Wh-what?”
“Food. Are you hungry?”
“No. I mean, no.”
“That means the same thing.”
“I mean I’m not hungry.” Becky’s stomach growls as if on cue. She coughs to cover the sound.
“If you don’t want to eat with me, you just have to say it.” Aiba frowns, digging his hands further into his pockets. He just…wanted to celebrate. “I guess I’ll be off then,” he says when Becky continues to stare at a point on the floor in complete silence. He heads for the door only to hear Becky’s hurried footsteps chasing after him.
“No, sorry, that’s not!” Becky cuts off, colliding straight into his back when he stops. “That is-ah!” She freezes, stares just above them and Aiba follows her gaze to…ah.
Mistletoe.
“Becky-san, do you hate-”
“Kiss me.”
“What?!”
Becky turns a violent shade of red. “Don’t make me say it again,” she whispers.
“I thought you liked Sho-chan,” he blurts out.
“Don’t be stupid.”
Aiba closes his eyes, leans in and tries really, really hard not to be.
His head bumps into hers and she laughs, pulls his face closer with her hands and shuts him up before he can say anything stupid.
“So why were you here so late anyway?” Becky asks, taking his hand shyly into hers as they step out of the studio.
“Oh, that’s because…”
“Oh, wait! Before I forget, did you hear the news?” Becky interrupts, bright-eyed. “I can’t believe I totally forgot to mention it! Apparently Matsushima-san and Nakajima-san didn’t want to renew their contracts, so they’re looking for a new co-host for Sakurai-san.”
“Ah, as a matter of fact…”
“Ahh, I was kind of thinking I would ask to be considered.”
“Eh?”
“For the position as Sakurai-san’s co-host.”
“Didn’t you want to be a director?”
“Well, I got this position because it was the only one available…but more than anything I’ve wanted to star in a variety show since I was a child.”
“Really?”
“Yup!” Becky grins. “It’s a long-shot, but I would really regret it if I never even asked.”
“Yeah…”
“I heard they’ve even pulled out all the stops for a super secret star guest for the first episode of the new year!”
“G-great…”
“But, oh yeah. Sorry!” Becky shakes her head and squeezes his hand. “I always yell at you for interrupting, but here I am cutting you off. You were saying?”
“Huh?”
“You’re here late because?”
“Oh…that’s…”
I am your thought but the water’s amnesia
my name is on the tip of your tongue…
PART 3