Gift fic for still_ciircee
To: still_ciircee
From: saturn_necklace
SEASON'S GREETINGS!
Title: Imaginary
Pairing/Group: Arashi + Strongly hinted Ohno/Nino
Rating: PG
Warnings: n/a
Notes: I really hope you enjoy this still_ciircee, and that it's the sort of thing you were hoping to receive!
Summary: Ohno could never explain why he enjoys being part of this little world of his so much. Perhaps it's because it's a place of his own, where others can't interfere, or perhaps it's because it's his little secret, that no one else has to know about. Perhaps it's just because the friendships he's forged there, no matter how imaginary, are extraordinary ones which anyone would be jealous of. He doesn't really know why, but his imaginary world is somewhere that Ohno longs to be whenever he can.
The sky is a foreboding mixture of light and dark greys, the sea a choppy expanse of black as a crack of thunder races across the beach and the heavens open, a few drops of water on his skin at first, gradually merging into a downpour. He's soaked in a matter of seconds, but rather than running for shelter he throws his head back, arms spread out as the rain water hits him. Lightning cuts across the sky, illuminating the beach for a split second before it returns to a shaded stormy grey, and he laughs, catching the rainwater on his tongue.
His shirt is plastered to him, cold and heavy against his skin. He's freezing with the howling gale that's brought over by the sea, but a warm hand takes his own and he looks across at the figure next to him, eyes shining with delight.
“Let's run.”
They sprint across the sand, hands still clasped as they run without purpose. It seems like they run through the storm for miles before they eventually stop, falling to the ground in peals of breathless laughter. Sand sticks to him wherever he touches the ground; it'll linger for days, impossible to get rid of in just one shower. The laughter finally dies away, replaced by heavy breathing as they regain their energy.
“Typical British summer,” the other says as they lie on the sand, eyes closed to keep out the rain, “did we really expect anything else?”
“Not really,” he says, squeezing the hand still in his own, “but I like the rain.”
“Nice brushwork there, Satoshi.” Ohno blinks, looking up from his painting as the teacher's voice cuts through his thoughts. The canvas is an abstract swirl of greys and blacks, forks of white harshly slashing through. Two silhouettes stand in the middle, partially obscured by the mess of clouds, arms outstretched. Ohno smiles.
“Thanks sir.”
Golden leaves crunch underfoot as he walks home, canvas tucked carefully under his arm. The hint of a chill that signifies autumn lingers in the air, and Ohno buries his chin in the scarf that his mother had wrapped around his neck that morning as he was heading out the door, insisting that it was no longer warm enough to just make do with a jumper; given a week or two he knows he'll have thick gloves and a woolly hat on as well.
He absently kicks at the leaves as he walks, sending them up into bright clouds of red, orange and brown which contrast with the monotone of the canvas under his arm, colour standing out harshly against the blacks and greys. The walk home is always a time when he ends up letting his mind wander, nothing better to do than imagine on the long, solitary walk. He imagines piles of leaves raked high beneath bare trees, the bright green of the grass below showing through. He imagines his breath coming out in little white puffs of condensation as he walks through an unfamiliar park, the weight of an expensive camera around his neck, and he imagines seeing a figure standing next to a large duck pond, stubbornly still in a t shirt, defying the change in weather.
”You're late.” The man says, and Ohno ducks his head slightly in apology.
“And you must be freezing.” He counters, taking off his scarf to wrap it around the man's neck.
The man digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, making a face as Ohno pulls the scarf a little tighter around him, “I'm fine. S'not winter yet.”
“You're just stubborn.”
The man shrugs, kicking at a pile of leaves. Ohno just smiles.
“You said you wanted to show me something?”
“Yeah,”” The man says, gesturing vaguely at their surroundings “this.”
“This?”
“It's autumn.”
Ohno's face lights up, and the man laughs, pausing for a second before eyeing a large pile of leaves and sprinting for it, throwing them up to make a shower of red and gold. Ohno's already reached for his camera, capturing the moment in a series of photographs, and then he joins in kicking leaves everywhere as the man drops a pile on his head, leaving Ohno spluttering in surprise. The man doubles over with laughter, and Ohno can't help but laugh as well, eyes shining with mirth.
“So,” the man says as they head out of the park, stepping on as many leaves as possible to see which makes the best crunch, “we should get a coffee or something.”
“Mm,” Ohno hums his approval, absently dusting stray bits of leaf and dirt off his camera, “where do you want to go?”
“Apparently Jun's just started his first shift at Costa. We should go and torment him.”
Ohno chuckles, “you can torment him, I'll be a model customer.”
The man shrugs, “makes no difference to me.”
The heat inside Costa is a stark contrast to the temperature outside, and it's not unwelcome. Ohno loves the cosy feel that cafés always have in the colder months, never failing to make him want to snuggle into one of the comfy sofas and order drink after drink until closing time, just so that he doesn't have to go back out into the inevitably harsh weather.
He spies Jun standing behind the counter, dark shirt, red apron, and shiny new name badge signifying him as the newest member of the Costa team. Jun smiles when he spots Ohno, but his face falls ever so slightly when he sees who's right behind him - clearly Jun's in no doubt as to what he's got in store. As they reach the counter Jun rolls up his sleeves to just below his elbows, unconsciously preparing for a bit of hard work.
Ohno smiles pleasantly, “Regular Americano please,”
Jun looks thankful as he keys the order into the till and Ohno hands over his money before moving to the side to wait, watching in interest as one of the other baristas hurries about behind the counter, expertly working the coffee machine which Ohno would've boggled at were he told that he had to try and use it.
“I'll have an extra hot large fair trade skinny soy latte with a shot of cinnamon, two shots of vanilla and cream on top. Oh, and a slice of carrot cake.”
Jun looks like he wants to despair for a second before plastering on his cheeriest customer friendly smile “Is that to eat in or to go, Nino?”
Ohno can't help but laugh as Nino realises that he'd failed in his ultimate aim of making the most complicated order possible.
Nino's answer is short and to the point, “In.”
A short wait later - one that's apparently more than worth it for that look on Jun's face, no matter how short a time it lasted - they both have their drinks and are sitting in a couple of comfy chairs at a window seat, the perfect position for people watching. It takes Ohno all of three seconds to push his Americano towards Nino and pull the thing towards himself instead.
“Are you sure?” Nino says, neatly dividing his slice of carrot cake down the middle.
Ohno shrugs, “I may not have known you for long, but it didn't take long to realise that you're a fussy eater. I'm assuming that extends to drinks as well. And I'll eat anything, so it doesn't bother me.”
Nino smiles, separating the two halves of carrot cake to opposite sides of the plate with his fork, “Can't complain about that - fancy some cake?”
Ohno ambles up his driveway, daydream paused indefinitely until sometime later when he's left alone with his thoughts. His mother opens the door before he reaches it, greeting him with a smile. “There you are Satoshi, you're later than usual.”
Ohno smiles, following her into the house and closing the door behind him. His mum wanders back to the kitchen, where he assumes she'd been before his arrival, and he takes the opportunity to head upstairs and dump his things. He smiles to himself as he props the canvas up against his bedroom wall. 'So,' he thinks, 'your name is Nino. Suits you'.
He heads back downstairs to help his mother prepare dinner, carefully chopping vegetables as she smiles fondly at him, letting him cautiously cut each vegetable into equally sized chunks despite the extra time it takes. By the time they finish his dad's home from work and changed into his casual clothes. The three of them sit around the dining room table to eat their meal, holding the usual conversation about their respective days; Ohno tells them about the Psychology essay he got back that morning and the assignment he's been set in Sociology, but for some reason he doesn't mention his almost-complete painting. There's something about the world in his head that makes him not want to share any of it - it's his world, his little reprieve from daily life, and somehow it doesn't seem right to tell anyone about it.
After dinner he heads back upstairs to start on his Sociology assignment, managing to complete all of two paragraphs before getting bored. The canvas is in his peripheral vision and for some reason he can't ignore it - all he wants to do right now is paint.
An hour later sees black and grey paint smudges across his face and a completed painting set out to dry, but somehow it's not enough; Ohno retrieves the blank canvas he has ready for his next project and sets it on his easel. He barely thinks about it as he starts to sketch out a park in the depths of autumn, red and gold leaves fluttering to the ground.
His mother finds him still in front of the canvas two hours later, mixing different shades of orange and red to find the best fit. “Satoshi,” she says gently, drawing his attention, “me and dad are going to put a film on. Do you want to join us?”
Ohno thinks about it for a second before shaking his head “I think I'll get a bit more of this done. Enjoy the film.”
His mum just smiles, shaking her head fondly as she leaves the room, closing the door carefully behind her as Ohno sinks back into the world that he's painting.
The nights are drawing in as the depths of winter approach, and it's dark by the time he gets back to the flat. The smell of food permeates his senses as he unlocks the front door and pushes it open, the perfect welcome home. All four of his flatmates are sat in the kitchen, halfway through their meals, and Ohno spies his own covered plate sitting next to the microwave as he enters the room, shrugging off his coat and scarf.
“You'll want to give it a minute or two in the microwave before you eat,” Jun says, and Ohno nods, setting it to reheat and perching on the worktop as he waits.
“It looks amazing, Aiba,” he says to the flatmate with dyed blonde hair, and the man grins at him in pride.
“Sho's turn tomorrow,” Aiba says around a mouthful of food, “so you'd better savour it - we all know what kind of horror he'll serve up.”
The microwave pings as Sho punches Aiba playfully on the shoulder, indignantly muttering something about not being that bad. Ohno turns his attention back to the microwave, retrieving his meal before taking his place around the dining table, between Nino and Jun. He loves these mealtimes, all five of them sitting together just like he does at home for the family dinner. Their flat has bonded so well that it's almost unbelievable, everyone easily slotting into their respective role in the friendship.
They stay sitting at the table long after they've finished their meals until Sho eventually stands up, announcing that if he doesn't go and finish his economics essay now he'll never get it done. That's everyone's cue to leave the table as well, Jun and Aiba heading back to their rooms as Ohno and Nino take their turn doing the washing and drying.
It's no surprise to anyone that twenty minutes later the kitchen is covered in soap suds, and so are Ohno and Nino. The washing up is at least done this time, though, which is more than can be said for the first time they were on the rota to wash and dry together.
“Right,” Ohno says as he brushes suds from his hair and pulls his coat and scarf back on, “I fancy a walk.”
“Me too. Let's regroup outside the front door in two minutes. I'll gather the troops to see if they want to join us.”
It turns out that no one else is in the mood to follow this particular whim of Ohno's, so only he and Nino head out into the cold, wrapped up warm. It's a clear night which puts a cold bite in the air, so they walk shoulder to shoulder as though it'll help keep them warm. They walk to the park, where most of the leaves have fallen by now, settling on a grassy patch of Nino's choosing. They sit and chat for a while before Nino lies back, looking up at the sky. It only takes a glance and a raised eyebrow to get Ohno to do the same, and the view is breathtaking.
The sky is alive with stars, more appearing the longer he looks. It seems like he can see the whole universe stretching out before him, planets and suns and nebulas just waiting to be seen. “It's beautiful,” he whispers, and Nino nods his agreement, no words enough to describe the sight before them.
“I'd love to see the northern lights one day,” Ohno says as they walk home, shoulder to shoulder again.
“Me too,” Nino agrees, “we should take an after uni gap year or something and go then.”
Ohno grins, “lets do it.”
Time seems to pass more quickly than it used to, and the weeks roll by with assignment after assignment, and essay after essay. Before Ohno knows it Christmas is approaching at a terrifying speed, along with the January exams of his final year at sixth form. His reprieve is his painting and his imagination, which Ohno finds himself delving into more than ever, bringing his imaginary world to the front of his mind and living in it for a while so that he can escape the stress of exam preparation. The number of canvases hung on his bedroom wall is steadily increasing too, the latest one to be hung depicting a starry sky in the dead of night. Ohno still doesn't tell anyone where his inspiration comes from, never really sure how he could possibly go about explaining.
Midway through December the first snow falls, a light sprinkling that barely settles before it's gone. It's enough to make his entire class stare longingly at the window until the lesson finally ends, and they can all race outside to savour it whilst it lasts. When Ohno gets outside he tilts his head back and catches snowflakes on his tongue before retreating back inside with his friends, deeming the amount of snow to be too little to really do anything with.
It's a welcome bit of excitement when he wakes the next morning to find that it's snowed overnight, just enough to warrant a snow day. His friends drop by his house and they all walk to the park with plastic trays and bin liners, ready to indulge in the delights of sledging whilst they can. The park is never busier than when it's covered in snow, the hills a magnet for the majority of the town's population every time there's an opportunity to sledge down them.
By the time he gets home Ohno's drenched, cold, and can't control the smile on his face.
The first snow is early and it falls thick and fast, blanketing the city in a thick layer of white, much too deep to attempt driving in. Tree branches droop under the weight of the snow, and icicles hang off signs, slowly dripping in a staccato rhythm. The world looks like a fairy tale when Ohno opens his curtains in the morning to see a landscape entirely transformed overnight.
Aiba hammers on his door, not even waiting until it's answered before gleefully shouting his news, “ALL LECTURES CANCELLED! SNOW DAY!”
Ohno pulls open the door to find Aiba already kitted out in his winter gear, thick coat bulking him up so much that Ohno's sure no cold could get through it if it tried.
“No lectures!” Aiba exclaims again before going to hammer on Nino's door and spread the news further.
Nino doesn't look too impressed when he pulls open the door, croaking out a grumpy, “so let me have a lie in,” before closing it again, undoubtedly in order to crawl back into bed.
Ohno wanders into the kitchen, where Sho's wrestling a pair of Wellington boots onto his feet and Jun's making a fry up, sitting himself down next to Sho as Aiba rushes into the room in a flurry of excitement.
“Hurry up, Sho! All the good snow will be gone!” Aiba doesn't waste any time in grabbing Sho's wooly hat from the table and jamming it on over his ears for him, the very epitome of impatience as Sho finally stands up, ready to go, “Come out and join us if you feel like it,” Aiba says, all childish excitement as he drags Sho out of the kitchen and towards the front door. Ohno can't help but smile in amusement.
Eventually Nino emerges from his room, when Jun and Ohno have already finished their fry up and are sitting discussing the possible merits of going out to join Sho and Aiba. He plonks himself down next to Ohno once he's put a slice of bread in the toaster, muttering something about being cold.
“I think Aiba's attempting to build an igloo,” Ohno says, peering out the window.
“Oh,” Jun says with an amused smile, “this I have to be part of.”
Ohno much agrees with the sentiment, and within ten minutes all three of them are suitably dressed and heading outside. They greet Sho and Aiba with a snowball to the back of the head before running away to avoid the inevitable onslaught of snowballs thrown back in retaliation. Eventually, once Nino's managed to hit Aiba square in the face, they remember that they came down to help with the igloo rather than start a snow war, so they call a truce in order to go about compacting snow into large bricks.
It takes a fair amount of time, not helped by the fact that Ohno's quickly distracted by the idea of making a snowman rather than bricks, but eventually it's completed and they all crawl inside with a flask of tea and a pack of biscuits than Jun had sprinted up to collect. They spend the rest of the afternoon in their creation, huddled together in the cramped room as they chat until the sun starts to set and they emerge, stretching out their limbs.
“I'm going to warm up with a shower,” Jun announces, with Sho and Aiba quickly deciding to follow suit.
Nino turns to face Ohno, “fancy checking out the Christmas market?”
“Sounds good to me.”
The Christmas market looks even more festive in the snow than it would usually, and Ohno looks around in wonder as they stroll around. There's a childish temptation to go in Santa's grotto, ignoring the fact that he's much too old and heavy to go and sit on Santa's knee as he entertains the possibility before deciding against, allowing Nino to pull him past it towards the little wooden lodges that act as stalls. It's an explosion of colour and sound, with Christmas music playing and the bustle of shoppers making their way around, and Ohno loves it, picking up numerous trinkets out of curiosity and trying on most of the hats that he sees.
Nino seems slightly more underwhelmed, quickly selecting a small variety of things as Christmas presents for his family so that he doesn't have to worry about it later, but Ohno takes his time to look at everything and consider. He ends up with big bags full of decorations and gifts, and a stomach full of Christmas delicacies. Ohno loves Christmas.
There's an ice rink in the centre of the market, and it takes very little persuasion for them to decide to try out a bit of skating, clinging to each others hands for dear life as though it'll help them stay upright. Thankfully most people there are as rubbish as each other, so the two of them feel free to skate without anyone caring how terrible at it they are.
By the time they leave the rink Ohno's hair resembles a snow drift and the tip of his nose is pink from the cold. Nino doesn't let go of his hand.
The Christmas holidays finish as quickly as they begin, over in a blur of presents and cheer and far too much food, and all of a sudden exams are upon Ohno, bearing down on him so much that he can barely think about anything else until they're over, no longer allowed his little reprieves. He doesn't see Nino very much throughout January because of that, nor Aiba, Sho and Jun. They're relegated to the sleeping hours, when Ohno doesn't have to be revising, a time which Ohno finds somewhat infuriating in its tendency to be forgotten before waking.
Eventually the exams are over, though, and Ohno can indulge in his imagination again, taking his time to let himself become totally absorbed by it whenever he can. Ohno could never explain why he enjoys being part of this little world of his so much. Perhaps it's because it's a place of his own, where others can't interfere, or perhaps it's because it's his little secret, that no one else has to know about. Perhaps it's just because the friendships he's forged there, no matter how imaginary, are extraordinary ones which anyone would be jealous of. He doesn't really know why, but his imaginary world is somewhere that Ohno longs to be whenever he can.
So the days flit by in both this world and that in Ohno's mind, and sixth form gets back to the usual routine of classes and essays and assignments, whilst Ohno gets back to his usual routine of daydreaming and painting as spring begins to approach. Nino, Jun, Sho and Aiba remain much the same, fun and happy as ever, until eventually it's spring and the trees are beginning to fill with leaves once again.
There's so much beauty in spring. Everything seems fresh, from the scent of the air to the newly blossomed flowers and the birds singing in the trees. It's a cheerful time of year, particularly with the knowledge that the summer exams are still far enough away that they aren't an immediate worry. The knowledge that he has four conditional offers for university and a good set of A level results thus far is another factor in lifting Ohno's spirits, and he's more cheerful than ever. Spring brings out the best in him.
One of his favourite times of year is when the cherry blossom begins to bloom. That's when he gets to walk home through a gentle shower of petals, and he can't help but be awed by the beauty of them as he ambles beneath the cherry trees, taking his time as the petals fall to rest in his hair, from which his mother will brush them all when he gets back.
The park is awash with light pink as he enters through the ornate wrought iron gates, his camera a gentle weight around his neck and Nino at his side. They stroll along the paths, taking their time to appreciate the beauty in a comfortable silence, broken only by the click of Ohno's camera as he captures the view, a little frozen moment in time that he can look back on later and remember this walk. It's serene in the park, the fact that it's a weekday mid-morning meaning that there are no children around to interrupt the birdsong.
It's the time of year now where the weather's starting to change, warm enough to make hats, gloves and scarves a bit redundant, but not so warm that they can risk going without a coat. The air is still crisp and cool and fresh, but it's not freezing - it's perfect.
They walk until Ohno's stomach starts to rumble, the silence punctuated with a light scattering of conversation, and Ohno thinks that it's the way it should be; they're comfortable enough with each other to let that silence settle, no longer feeling the need to hold up conversation at all times like when they first met, back when they lived in fear of the awkward silence.
They find a little café next to the park to have an early lunch in, and Nino takes control of Ohno's camera once they've ordered, flicking through the photos that he's taken and giving a running commentary on which are his favourites. Ohno listens with a smile, absently fingering the floral tablecloth as he takes in his surroundings. This café, he thinks, is the definition of the word quaint, with paper doilies on the tables and shelves full of thimbles and decorated plates. Definitely quaint, with a bit of charming for good measure. He thinks he'll bring his family here next time they come up to visit.
“I really like this one,” Nino says, breaking him out of his reverie, and Ohno leans over to look, making a little fascinated noise as one does when they gain a little insight into someone's mind. Ohno's always been fascinated by things like that; why certain people like certain things, and how much it can vary.
They fall back into silence again as Nino continues to flick through the photos.
“Don't you think this place is quaint?” Ohno says, picking at a loose thread on the tablecloth.
“Very,” Nino says without looking up, a little smile playing about his lips, “I like it though.”
“Me too.”
They're interrupted by the arrival of their pots of tea and plates of sandwiches cut into neat little triangles. Ohno smiles, “and that's very quaint.”
Nino flicks the camera off and hands it back carefully, subconsciously treating it with the same loving attention as Ohno always does, “it really is. If this place gets any quainter I think I might die from the quaintness of it all.”
Ohno laughs, picking up one of the triangular sandwiches, “definitely.”
“You know,” Ohno says as they walk back through the park, “this feels strangely like a date. There's cherry blossom and quaint tea rooms and the like. It's a bit odd really.”
Nino hums thoughtfully, “I guess it is,” he says after a moment, before reaching out and taking Ohno's hand, lacing their fingers together, “we might as well do things properly then.”
The British summer is a wonder to behold. Never at all predictable, Ohno is fairly sure that it's one of the seven wonders of the world. Sod's law means that it's dismal up until a few weeks before exams, always either raining or looking as though it's about to rain at any second, and then the moment that none of them are able to go out in it because they're too busy revising it's gloriously sunny, with blue skies and not a cloud in sight. The cheerful tune of the ice cream van taunts him as it trundles down the street, with him unable to go out, stuck inside with a mountain of revision books and a swamp of paper - his own little A level landscape.
His mother barely dares to enter his little lair lest she get attacked by an avalanche of revision cards, but Ohno always appreciates it when she does, bringing him little treats of ice cream so he can feel like he's joining in with the summer and petting his hair as she tells him that he'll do just fine in his exams with all of this work. Ohno certainly hopes so, because he very much misses the feel of the sun warm against his skin and the caress of a gentle breeze to cool him. His hot, stuffy room just doesn't compare.
It's much the same story in his imaginary world, what with his imagination still portraying a version of England, so he can't even get a reprieve from the inherent unfairness of the weather's timing there. Eventually, though, his final exams as a sixth former are over and Ohno can finally go out and appreciate the good weather properly for two days before it all goes downhill again. 'One day,' Ohno thinks, 'the weather might just decide to be fair.'
He's not going to hold out hope, though.
”That's it,” Nino had said the week previous, “we're having a day off. Next Tuesday. Plan your revision around it.”
So Ohno had, and now finally that blessed day of freedom has arrived in all it's glory. The sun is shining and there's not a cloud in sight. The temperature is positively perfect and so Ohno's really not sure that he's actually woken up to his Tuesday off yet because surely the British summer isn't actually cooperating.
Nino hammers on his door, making sure he's up, and within the hour they're on their way to the zoo, determined to enjoy the sunshine whilst it lasts. The air at the zoo is thick with the scent of sun cream, overtones of coconut assaulting their nostrils as they wander around the various enclosures, Ohno snapping photos as they make their way around.
“Where next?” Nino asks as they stand by the tapirs, sweat beading on their foreheads in the heat.
“Giraffes,” Ohno says, “I love giraffes. And then the elephants - I think they're close to each other.”
Nino nods and they head in the direction of the giraffes, where they join the crowds that have gathered around them. It always astounds Ohno how such a tall creature, all long neck and gangly limbs, can move so gracefully, sweeping majestically around the enclosure. It doesn't take him long to reach for his camera again, dodging around people to take photos wherever he can. Nino just watches in amusement, fanning himself with a folded zoo map.
After going to see the elephants Nino deems that it's lunchtime and they make their way to the overpriced café to peruse their options. It's much cooler inside, out of the direct heat of the sun, and they both melt into their seats, taking a moment to recover from the heat before going to order. Eventually they decide on a couple of sandwiches that cost more than they have any right to, which they eat in silence, still too hot to think about carrying on a conversation.
The zoo is packed with school parties and families alike, all making the most of the weather whilst it lasts, so the café is full to bursting by the time they leave, both of them glad that they chose to have a slightly early lunch.
Around mid-afternoon they deem it time to treat themselves to an ice cream, which sufficiently cools them down as they stroll around the other half of the zoo, heading for the reptile house once they've finished in order to find some shade. When they emerge about half an hour later a fat drop of water lands on Ohno's cheek, and he looks up to find that the sky has clouded over.
“Bugger,” Nino says as Ohno hastily puts his camera in its case, “I knew it was too good to last.”
They sprint for the gift shop, but it's not close enough for them to make it there in time before the heavier rain sets in, soaking them to the skin. Ohno laughs, stopping short of the entrance to throw his head back and catch the raindrops on his tongue.
“What're you doing, lunatic?” Nino rolls his eyes fondly, brushing back the hair plastered to his forehead so that it sticks up in the air, no longer dripping excess water into his eyes.
“It's fun,” Ohno says, “I like the rain.”
It's still raining when they drive home half an hour later, each of them still soaked, and with their own large stuffed elephant in the back seat. Contrary to expectation, it hasn't put a dampener on their day.
The rest of summer passes in a haze of sleep, painting, seeing friends and vastly varying weather, in which Ohno is waiting on one day, and one day only. August 19th. Judgement day. Results day.
Within the past few weeks his walls have become filled with new paintings. There's a snow scape, with a snowman and slightly shoddy looking igloo; there's a park in cherry blossom season, with a shower of pink petals falling all around; there's a zoo in the midst of summer, with two elephants spraying water over themselves to keep cool. The painting keeps his mind off the inevitable worry of whether or not he's passed his exams, so he spends extortionate amounts of time doing it until finally August 19th arrives, bringing with it the utter joy of acceptance to university - he's passed.
The next month is full of shopping for everything he could possibly need when he moves away, and at last it's time for him to move away and start the next chapter of his life.
He arrives at university with slight trepidation, a lot of excitement, and a car full of stuff. Probably, Ohno thinks, it won't really hit him that he's actually moved away from home for a good two weeks, when it starts to feel less like a holiday and more like he's living in a new city with new people and a new set of expectations upon him.
He's the last person to arrive in his flat, though he doesn't see any of his new flatmates until his parents have hugged him goodbye and left him to sit on his bed feeling more alone than he's ever felt before as he looks up at the paintings hung up on his wall, more than ready to just sink into his imagination like he always does. And that's when there's a knock at his door and a figure standing in his doorway.
Ohno looks up and his breath catches in his throat.
“Hi,” the boy says, giving a little smirk that Ohno's seen a thousand times before, “I'm Nino.”
The sky is a foreboding mixture of light and dark greys, the sea a choppy expanse of black as a crack of thunder races across the beach and the heavens open, a few drops of water on his skin at first, gradually merging into a downpour. He's soaked in a matter of seconds, but rather than running for shelter he throws his head back, arms spread out as the rain water hits him. Lightning cuts across the sky, illuminating the beach for a split second before it returns to a shaded stormy grey, and he laughs, catching the rainwater on his tongue.
His shirt is plastered to him, cold and heavy against his skin. He's freezing with the howling gale that's brought over by the sea, but a warm hand takes his own and he looks across at the figure next to him, eyes shining with delight.
“Let's run.”
They sprint across the sand, hands still clasped as they run without purpose. It seems like they run through the storm for miles before they eventually stop, falling to the ground in peals of breathless laughter. Sand sticks to him wherever he touches the ground; it'll linger for days, impossible to get rid of in just one shower. The laughter finally dies away, replaced by heavy breathing as they regain their energy.
“Typical British summer,” Nino says as they lie on the sand, eyes closed to keep out the rain, “did we really expect anything else?”
“Not really,” he says, squeezing the hand still in his own, “but I like the rain.”
Nino laughs, “so you always say. And it's a good job really, since it always thwarts us when we least expect it.”
“You love it too.”
Nino rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he looks down at Ohno, “of course. I wouldn't still be out here if I didn't.”
“Yes you would,” Ohno says, “I know you well enough by now; You'd stay out for me.”
“I deny that vehemently. Even though it's true.”
Another flash of lightning tears through the sky, followed by a roar of thunder that Ohno can feel moving through him.
“Come on,” Nino says, getting to his feet and holding out a hand for Ohno, “fun as it is Jun won't be too impressed if we end up catching colds.”
Ohno lets himself be hauled to his feet, and they begin to make their way back across the beach, still hand in hand.
“This,” Nino says as they walk across the sand “is the best holiday I've been on in quite some time.”
Ohno laughs, “I'm not sure Jun would agree.”
“Jun needs to learn to accept the British weather. I think he was anticipating some sort of tropical paradise, despite the fact that this is Devon.”
“I think you're probably right.” Ohno agrees.
Nino grins, “Aren't I always?”
“Absolutely not. But at least you like the rain.”
Over the course of the past three years Ohno had begun to think that the stormy beach he'd imagined would never happen - that it was the only one destined to remain a part of his imagination forever. It's with a great sense of accomplishment that he moves that first painting along to the end of the time line he's created in his wall, mapping out each of the scenes that he'd imagined all of those years ago.
With an air of finality he reaches for the photo he'd taken that day, of the beach in the depths of a storm, and blu-tacs it beneath its corresponding painting, like he's done for all of the others.
It's all new from here.
From: saturn_necklace
SEASON'S GREETINGS!
Title: Imaginary
Pairing/Group: Arashi + Strongly hinted Ohno/Nino
Rating: PG
Warnings: n/a
Notes: I really hope you enjoy this still_ciircee, and that it's the sort of thing you were hoping to receive!
Summary: Ohno could never explain why he enjoys being part of this little world of his so much. Perhaps it's because it's a place of his own, where others can't interfere, or perhaps it's because it's his little secret, that no one else has to know about. Perhaps it's just because the friendships he's forged there, no matter how imaginary, are extraordinary ones which anyone would be jealous of. He doesn't really know why, but his imaginary world is somewhere that Ohno longs to be whenever he can.
The sky is a foreboding mixture of light and dark greys, the sea a choppy expanse of black as a crack of thunder races across the beach and the heavens open, a few drops of water on his skin at first, gradually merging into a downpour. He's soaked in a matter of seconds, but rather than running for shelter he throws his head back, arms spread out as the rain water hits him. Lightning cuts across the sky, illuminating the beach for a split second before it returns to a shaded stormy grey, and he laughs, catching the rainwater on his tongue.
His shirt is plastered to him, cold and heavy against his skin. He's freezing with the howling gale that's brought over by the sea, but a warm hand takes his own and he looks across at the figure next to him, eyes shining with delight.
“Let's run.”
They sprint across the sand, hands still clasped as they run without purpose. It seems like they run through the storm for miles before they eventually stop, falling to the ground in peals of breathless laughter. Sand sticks to him wherever he touches the ground; it'll linger for days, impossible to get rid of in just one shower. The laughter finally dies away, replaced by heavy breathing as they regain their energy.
“Typical British summer,” the other says as they lie on the sand, eyes closed to keep out the rain, “did we really expect anything else?”
“Not really,” he says, squeezing the hand still in his own, “but I like the rain.”
“Nice brushwork there, Satoshi.” Ohno blinks, looking up from his painting as the teacher's voice cuts through his thoughts. The canvas is an abstract swirl of greys and blacks, forks of white harshly slashing through. Two silhouettes stand in the middle, partially obscured by the mess of clouds, arms outstretched. Ohno smiles.
“Thanks sir.”
Golden leaves crunch underfoot as he walks home, canvas tucked carefully under his arm. The hint of a chill that signifies autumn lingers in the air, and Ohno buries his chin in the scarf that his mother had wrapped around his neck that morning as he was heading out the door, insisting that it was no longer warm enough to just make do with a jumper; given a week or two he knows he'll have thick gloves and a woolly hat on as well.
He absently kicks at the leaves as he walks, sending them up into bright clouds of red, orange and brown which contrast with the monotone of the canvas under his arm, colour standing out harshly against the blacks and greys. The walk home is always a time when he ends up letting his mind wander, nothing better to do than imagine on the long, solitary walk. He imagines piles of leaves raked high beneath bare trees, the bright green of the grass below showing through. He imagines his breath coming out in little white puffs of condensation as he walks through an unfamiliar park, the weight of an expensive camera around his neck, and he imagines seeing a figure standing next to a large duck pond, stubbornly still in a t shirt, defying the change in weather.
”You're late.” The man says, and Ohno ducks his head slightly in apology.
“And you must be freezing.” He counters, taking off his scarf to wrap it around the man's neck.
The man digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans, making a face as Ohno pulls the scarf a little tighter around him, “I'm fine. S'not winter yet.”
“You're just stubborn.”
The man shrugs, kicking at a pile of leaves. Ohno just smiles.
“You said you wanted to show me something?”
“Yeah,”” The man says, gesturing vaguely at their surroundings “this.”
“This?”
“It's autumn.”
Ohno's face lights up, and the man laughs, pausing for a second before eyeing a large pile of leaves and sprinting for it, throwing them up to make a shower of red and gold. Ohno's already reached for his camera, capturing the moment in a series of photographs, and then he joins in kicking leaves everywhere as the man drops a pile on his head, leaving Ohno spluttering in surprise. The man doubles over with laughter, and Ohno can't help but laugh as well, eyes shining with mirth.
“So,” the man says as they head out of the park, stepping on as many leaves as possible to see which makes the best crunch, “we should get a coffee or something.”
“Mm,” Ohno hums his approval, absently dusting stray bits of leaf and dirt off his camera, “where do you want to go?”
“Apparently Jun's just started his first shift at Costa. We should go and torment him.”
Ohno chuckles, “you can torment him, I'll be a model customer.”
The man shrugs, “makes no difference to me.”
The heat inside Costa is a stark contrast to the temperature outside, and it's not unwelcome. Ohno loves the cosy feel that cafés always have in the colder months, never failing to make him want to snuggle into one of the comfy sofas and order drink after drink until closing time, just so that he doesn't have to go back out into the inevitably harsh weather.
He spies Jun standing behind the counter, dark shirt, red apron, and shiny new name badge signifying him as the newest member of the Costa team. Jun smiles when he spots Ohno, but his face falls ever so slightly when he sees who's right behind him - clearly Jun's in no doubt as to what he's got in store. As they reach the counter Jun rolls up his sleeves to just below his elbows, unconsciously preparing for a bit of hard work.
Ohno smiles pleasantly, “Regular Americano please,”
Jun looks thankful as he keys the order into the till and Ohno hands over his money before moving to the side to wait, watching in interest as one of the other baristas hurries about behind the counter, expertly working the coffee machine which Ohno would've boggled at were he told that he had to try and use it.
“I'll have an extra hot large fair trade skinny soy latte with a shot of cinnamon, two shots of vanilla and cream on top. Oh, and a slice of carrot cake.”
Jun looks like he wants to despair for a second before plastering on his cheeriest customer friendly smile “Is that to eat in or to go, Nino?”
Ohno can't help but laugh as Nino realises that he'd failed in his ultimate aim of making the most complicated order possible.
Nino's answer is short and to the point, “In.”
A short wait later - one that's apparently more than worth it for that look on Jun's face, no matter how short a time it lasted - they both have their drinks and are sitting in a couple of comfy chairs at a window seat, the perfect position for people watching. It takes Ohno all of three seconds to push his Americano towards Nino and pull the thing towards himself instead.
“Are you sure?” Nino says, neatly dividing his slice of carrot cake down the middle.
Ohno shrugs, “I may not have known you for long, but it didn't take long to realise that you're a fussy eater. I'm assuming that extends to drinks as well. And I'll eat anything, so it doesn't bother me.”
Nino smiles, separating the two halves of carrot cake to opposite sides of the plate with his fork, “Can't complain about that - fancy some cake?”
Ohno ambles up his driveway, daydream paused indefinitely until sometime later when he's left alone with his thoughts. His mother opens the door before he reaches it, greeting him with a smile. “There you are Satoshi, you're later than usual.”
Ohno smiles, following her into the house and closing the door behind him. His mum wanders back to the kitchen, where he assumes she'd been before his arrival, and he takes the opportunity to head upstairs and dump his things. He smiles to himself as he props the canvas up against his bedroom wall. 'So,' he thinks, 'your name is Nino. Suits you'.
He heads back downstairs to help his mother prepare dinner, carefully chopping vegetables as she smiles fondly at him, letting him cautiously cut each vegetable into equally sized chunks despite the extra time it takes. By the time they finish his dad's home from work and changed into his casual clothes. The three of them sit around the dining room table to eat their meal, holding the usual conversation about their respective days; Ohno tells them about the Psychology essay he got back that morning and the assignment he's been set in Sociology, but for some reason he doesn't mention his almost-complete painting. There's something about the world in his head that makes him not want to share any of it - it's his world, his little reprieve from daily life, and somehow it doesn't seem right to tell anyone about it.
After dinner he heads back upstairs to start on his Sociology assignment, managing to complete all of two paragraphs before getting bored. The canvas is in his peripheral vision and for some reason he can't ignore it - all he wants to do right now is paint.
An hour later sees black and grey paint smudges across his face and a completed painting set out to dry, but somehow it's not enough; Ohno retrieves the blank canvas he has ready for his next project and sets it on his easel. He barely thinks about it as he starts to sketch out a park in the depths of autumn, red and gold leaves fluttering to the ground.
His mother finds him still in front of the canvas two hours later, mixing different shades of orange and red to find the best fit. “Satoshi,” she says gently, drawing his attention, “me and dad are going to put a film on. Do you want to join us?”
Ohno thinks about it for a second before shaking his head “I think I'll get a bit more of this done. Enjoy the film.”
His mum just smiles, shaking her head fondly as she leaves the room, closing the door carefully behind her as Ohno sinks back into the world that he's painting.
The nights are drawing in as the depths of winter approach, and it's dark by the time he gets back to the flat. The smell of food permeates his senses as he unlocks the front door and pushes it open, the perfect welcome home. All four of his flatmates are sat in the kitchen, halfway through their meals, and Ohno spies his own covered plate sitting next to the microwave as he enters the room, shrugging off his coat and scarf.
“You'll want to give it a minute or two in the microwave before you eat,” Jun says, and Ohno nods, setting it to reheat and perching on the worktop as he waits.
“It looks amazing, Aiba,” he says to the flatmate with dyed blonde hair, and the man grins at him in pride.
“Sho's turn tomorrow,” Aiba says around a mouthful of food, “so you'd better savour it - we all know what kind of horror he'll serve up.”
The microwave pings as Sho punches Aiba playfully on the shoulder, indignantly muttering something about not being that bad. Ohno turns his attention back to the microwave, retrieving his meal before taking his place around the dining table, between Nino and Jun. He loves these mealtimes, all five of them sitting together just like he does at home for the family dinner. Their flat has bonded so well that it's almost unbelievable, everyone easily slotting into their respective role in the friendship.
They stay sitting at the table long after they've finished their meals until Sho eventually stands up, announcing that if he doesn't go and finish his economics essay now he'll never get it done. That's everyone's cue to leave the table as well, Jun and Aiba heading back to their rooms as Ohno and Nino take their turn doing the washing and drying.
It's no surprise to anyone that twenty minutes later the kitchen is covered in soap suds, and so are Ohno and Nino. The washing up is at least done this time, though, which is more than can be said for the first time they were on the rota to wash and dry together.
“Right,” Ohno says as he brushes suds from his hair and pulls his coat and scarf back on, “I fancy a walk.”
“Me too. Let's regroup outside the front door in two minutes. I'll gather the troops to see if they want to join us.”
It turns out that no one else is in the mood to follow this particular whim of Ohno's, so only he and Nino head out into the cold, wrapped up warm. It's a clear night which puts a cold bite in the air, so they walk shoulder to shoulder as though it'll help keep them warm. They walk to the park, where most of the leaves have fallen by now, settling on a grassy patch of Nino's choosing. They sit and chat for a while before Nino lies back, looking up at the sky. It only takes a glance and a raised eyebrow to get Ohno to do the same, and the view is breathtaking.
The sky is alive with stars, more appearing the longer he looks. It seems like he can see the whole universe stretching out before him, planets and suns and nebulas just waiting to be seen. “It's beautiful,” he whispers, and Nino nods his agreement, no words enough to describe the sight before them.
“I'd love to see the northern lights one day,” Ohno says as they walk home, shoulder to shoulder again.
“Me too,” Nino agrees, “we should take an after uni gap year or something and go then.”
Ohno grins, “lets do it.”
Time seems to pass more quickly than it used to, and the weeks roll by with assignment after assignment, and essay after essay. Before Ohno knows it Christmas is approaching at a terrifying speed, along with the January exams of his final year at sixth form. His reprieve is his painting and his imagination, which Ohno finds himself delving into more than ever, bringing his imaginary world to the front of his mind and living in it for a while so that he can escape the stress of exam preparation. The number of canvases hung on his bedroom wall is steadily increasing too, the latest one to be hung depicting a starry sky in the dead of night. Ohno still doesn't tell anyone where his inspiration comes from, never really sure how he could possibly go about explaining.
Midway through December the first snow falls, a light sprinkling that barely settles before it's gone. It's enough to make his entire class stare longingly at the window until the lesson finally ends, and they can all race outside to savour it whilst it lasts. When Ohno gets outside he tilts his head back and catches snowflakes on his tongue before retreating back inside with his friends, deeming the amount of snow to be too little to really do anything with.
It's a welcome bit of excitement when he wakes the next morning to find that it's snowed overnight, just enough to warrant a snow day. His friends drop by his house and they all walk to the park with plastic trays and bin liners, ready to indulge in the delights of sledging whilst they can. The park is never busier than when it's covered in snow, the hills a magnet for the majority of the town's population every time there's an opportunity to sledge down them.
By the time he gets home Ohno's drenched, cold, and can't control the smile on his face.
The first snow is early and it falls thick and fast, blanketing the city in a thick layer of white, much too deep to attempt driving in. Tree branches droop under the weight of the snow, and icicles hang off signs, slowly dripping in a staccato rhythm. The world looks like a fairy tale when Ohno opens his curtains in the morning to see a landscape entirely transformed overnight.
Aiba hammers on his door, not even waiting until it's answered before gleefully shouting his news, “ALL LECTURES CANCELLED! SNOW DAY!”
Ohno pulls open the door to find Aiba already kitted out in his winter gear, thick coat bulking him up so much that Ohno's sure no cold could get through it if it tried.
“No lectures!” Aiba exclaims again before going to hammer on Nino's door and spread the news further.
Nino doesn't look too impressed when he pulls open the door, croaking out a grumpy, “so let me have a lie in,” before closing it again, undoubtedly in order to crawl back into bed.
Ohno wanders into the kitchen, where Sho's wrestling a pair of Wellington boots onto his feet and Jun's making a fry up, sitting himself down next to Sho as Aiba rushes into the room in a flurry of excitement.
“Hurry up, Sho! All the good snow will be gone!” Aiba doesn't waste any time in grabbing Sho's wooly hat from the table and jamming it on over his ears for him, the very epitome of impatience as Sho finally stands up, ready to go, “Come out and join us if you feel like it,” Aiba says, all childish excitement as he drags Sho out of the kitchen and towards the front door. Ohno can't help but smile in amusement.
Eventually Nino emerges from his room, when Jun and Ohno have already finished their fry up and are sitting discussing the possible merits of going out to join Sho and Aiba. He plonks himself down next to Ohno once he's put a slice of bread in the toaster, muttering something about being cold.
“I think Aiba's attempting to build an igloo,” Ohno says, peering out the window.
“Oh,” Jun says with an amused smile, “this I have to be part of.”
Ohno much agrees with the sentiment, and within ten minutes all three of them are suitably dressed and heading outside. They greet Sho and Aiba with a snowball to the back of the head before running away to avoid the inevitable onslaught of snowballs thrown back in retaliation. Eventually, once Nino's managed to hit Aiba square in the face, they remember that they came down to help with the igloo rather than start a snow war, so they call a truce in order to go about compacting snow into large bricks.
It takes a fair amount of time, not helped by the fact that Ohno's quickly distracted by the idea of making a snowman rather than bricks, but eventually it's completed and they all crawl inside with a flask of tea and a pack of biscuits than Jun had sprinted up to collect. They spend the rest of the afternoon in their creation, huddled together in the cramped room as they chat until the sun starts to set and they emerge, stretching out their limbs.
“I'm going to warm up with a shower,” Jun announces, with Sho and Aiba quickly deciding to follow suit.
Nino turns to face Ohno, “fancy checking out the Christmas market?”
“Sounds good to me.”
The Christmas market looks even more festive in the snow than it would usually, and Ohno looks around in wonder as they stroll around. There's a childish temptation to go in Santa's grotto, ignoring the fact that he's much too old and heavy to go and sit on Santa's knee as he entertains the possibility before deciding against, allowing Nino to pull him past it towards the little wooden lodges that act as stalls. It's an explosion of colour and sound, with Christmas music playing and the bustle of shoppers making their way around, and Ohno loves it, picking up numerous trinkets out of curiosity and trying on most of the hats that he sees.
Nino seems slightly more underwhelmed, quickly selecting a small variety of things as Christmas presents for his family so that he doesn't have to worry about it later, but Ohno takes his time to look at everything and consider. He ends up with big bags full of decorations and gifts, and a stomach full of Christmas delicacies. Ohno loves Christmas.
There's an ice rink in the centre of the market, and it takes very little persuasion for them to decide to try out a bit of skating, clinging to each others hands for dear life as though it'll help them stay upright. Thankfully most people there are as rubbish as each other, so the two of them feel free to skate without anyone caring how terrible at it they are.
By the time they leave the rink Ohno's hair resembles a snow drift and the tip of his nose is pink from the cold. Nino doesn't let go of his hand.
The Christmas holidays finish as quickly as they begin, over in a blur of presents and cheer and far too much food, and all of a sudden exams are upon Ohno, bearing down on him so much that he can barely think about anything else until they're over, no longer allowed his little reprieves. He doesn't see Nino very much throughout January because of that, nor Aiba, Sho and Jun. They're relegated to the sleeping hours, when Ohno doesn't have to be revising, a time which Ohno finds somewhat infuriating in its tendency to be forgotten before waking.
Eventually the exams are over, though, and Ohno can indulge in his imagination again, taking his time to let himself become totally absorbed by it whenever he can. Ohno could never explain why he enjoys being part of this little world of his so much. Perhaps it's because it's a place of his own, where others can't interfere, or perhaps it's because it's his little secret, that no one else has to know about. Perhaps it's just because the friendships he's forged there, no matter how imaginary, are extraordinary ones which anyone would be jealous of. He doesn't really know why, but his imaginary world is somewhere that Ohno longs to be whenever he can.
So the days flit by in both this world and that in Ohno's mind, and sixth form gets back to the usual routine of classes and essays and assignments, whilst Ohno gets back to his usual routine of daydreaming and painting as spring begins to approach. Nino, Jun, Sho and Aiba remain much the same, fun and happy as ever, until eventually it's spring and the trees are beginning to fill with leaves once again.
There's so much beauty in spring. Everything seems fresh, from the scent of the air to the newly blossomed flowers and the birds singing in the trees. It's a cheerful time of year, particularly with the knowledge that the summer exams are still far enough away that they aren't an immediate worry. The knowledge that he has four conditional offers for university and a good set of A level results thus far is another factor in lifting Ohno's spirits, and he's more cheerful than ever. Spring brings out the best in him.
One of his favourite times of year is when the cherry blossom begins to bloom. That's when he gets to walk home through a gentle shower of petals, and he can't help but be awed by the beauty of them as he ambles beneath the cherry trees, taking his time as the petals fall to rest in his hair, from which his mother will brush them all when he gets back.
The park is awash with light pink as he enters through the ornate wrought iron gates, his camera a gentle weight around his neck and Nino at his side. They stroll along the paths, taking their time to appreciate the beauty in a comfortable silence, broken only by the click of Ohno's camera as he captures the view, a little frozen moment in time that he can look back on later and remember this walk. It's serene in the park, the fact that it's a weekday mid-morning meaning that there are no children around to interrupt the birdsong.
It's the time of year now where the weather's starting to change, warm enough to make hats, gloves and scarves a bit redundant, but not so warm that they can risk going without a coat. The air is still crisp and cool and fresh, but it's not freezing - it's perfect.
They walk until Ohno's stomach starts to rumble, the silence punctuated with a light scattering of conversation, and Ohno thinks that it's the way it should be; they're comfortable enough with each other to let that silence settle, no longer feeling the need to hold up conversation at all times like when they first met, back when they lived in fear of the awkward silence.
They find a little café next to the park to have an early lunch in, and Nino takes control of Ohno's camera once they've ordered, flicking through the photos that he's taken and giving a running commentary on which are his favourites. Ohno listens with a smile, absently fingering the floral tablecloth as he takes in his surroundings. This café, he thinks, is the definition of the word quaint, with paper doilies on the tables and shelves full of thimbles and decorated plates. Definitely quaint, with a bit of charming for good measure. He thinks he'll bring his family here next time they come up to visit.
“I really like this one,” Nino says, breaking him out of his reverie, and Ohno leans over to look, making a little fascinated noise as one does when they gain a little insight into someone's mind. Ohno's always been fascinated by things like that; why certain people like certain things, and how much it can vary.
They fall back into silence again as Nino continues to flick through the photos.
“Don't you think this place is quaint?” Ohno says, picking at a loose thread on the tablecloth.
“Very,” Nino says without looking up, a little smile playing about his lips, “I like it though.”
“Me too.”
They're interrupted by the arrival of their pots of tea and plates of sandwiches cut into neat little triangles. Ohno smiles, “and that's very quaint.”
Nino flicks the camera off and hands it back carefully, subconsciously treating it with the same loving attention as Ohno always does, “it really is. If this place gets any quainter I think I might die from the quaintness of it all.”
Ohno laughs, picking up one of the triangular sandwiches, “definitely.”
“You know,” Ohno says as they walk back through the park, “this feels strangely like a date. There's cherry blossom and quaint tea rooms and the like. It's a bit odd really.”
Nino hums thoughtfully, “I guess it is,” he says after a moment, before reaching out and taking Ohno's hand, lacing their fingers together, “we might as well do things properly then.”
The British summer is a wonder to behold. Never at all predictable, Ohno is fairly sure that it's one of the seven wonders of the world. Sod's law means that it's dismal up until a few weeks before exams, always either raining or looking as though it's about to rain at any second, and then the moment that none of them are able to go out in it because they're too busy revising it's gloriously sunny, with blue skies and not a cloud in sight. The cheerful tune of the ice cream van taunts him as it trundles down the street, with him unable to go out, stuck inside with a mountain of revision books and a swamp of paper - his own little A level landscape.
His mother barely dares to enter his little lair lest she get attacked by an avalanche of revision cards, but Ohno always appreciates it when she does, bringing him little treats of ice cream so he can feel like he's joining in with the summer and petting his hair as she tells him that he'll do just fine in his exams with all of this work. Ohno certainly hopes so, because he very much misses the feel of the sun warm against his skin and the caress of a gentle breeze to cool him. His hot, stuffy room just doesn't compare.
It's much the same story in his imaginary world, what with his imagination still portraying a version of England, so he can't even get a reprieve from the inherent unfairness of the weather's timing there. Eventually, though, his final exams as a sixth former are over and Ohno can finally go out and appreciate the good weather properly for two days before it all goes downhill again. 'One day,' Ohno thinks, 'the weather might just decide to be fair.'
He's not going to hold out hope, though.
”That's it,” Nino had said the week previous, “we're having a day off. Next Tuesday. Plan your revision around it.”
So Ohno had, and now finally that blessed day of freedom has arrived in all it's glory. The sun is shining and there's not a cloud in sight. The temperature is positively perfect and so Ohno's really not sure that he's actually woken up to his Tuesday off yet because surely the British summer isn't actually cooperating.
Nino hammers on his door, making sure he's up, and within the hour they're on their way to the zoo, determined to enjoy the sunshine whilst it lasts. The air at the zoo is thick with the scent of sun cream, overtones of coconut assaulting their nostrils as they wander around the various enclosures, Ohno snapping photos as they make their way around.
“Where next?” Nino asks as they stand by the tapirs, sweat beading on their foreheads in the heat.
“Giraffes,” Ohno says, “I love giraffes. And then the elephants - I think they're close to each other.”
Nino nods and they head in the direction of the giraffes, where they join the crowds that have gathered around them. It always astounds Ohno how such a tall creature, all long neck and gangly limbs, can move so gracefully, sweeping majestically around the enclosure. It doesn't take him long to reach for his camera again, dodging around people to take photos wherever he can. Nino just watches in amusement, fanning himself with a folded zoo map.
After going to see the elephants Nino deems that it's lunchtime and they make their way to the overpriced café to peruse their options. It's much cooler inside, out of the direct heat of the sun, and they both melt into their seats, taking a moment to recover from the heat before going to order. Eventually they decide on a couple of sandwiches that cost more than they have any right to, which they eat in silence, still too hot to think about carrying on a conversation.
The zoo is packed with school parties and families alike, all making the most of the weather whilst it lasts, so the café is full to bursting by the time they leave, both of them glad that they chose to have a slightly early lunch.
Around mid-afternoon they deem it time to treat themselves to an ice cream, which sufficiently cools them down as they stroll around the other half of the zoo, heading for the reptile house once they've finished in order to find some shade. When they emerge about half an hour later a fat drop of water lands on Ohno's cheek, and he looks up to find that the sky has clouded over.
“Bugger,” Nino says as Ohno hastily puts his camera in its case, “I knew it was too good to last.”
They sprint for the gift shop, but it's not close enough for them to make it there in time before the heavier rain sets in, soaking them to the skin. Ohno laughs, stopping short of the entrance to throw his head back and catch the raindrops on his tongue.
“What're you doing, lunatic?” Nino rolls his eyes fondly, brushing back the hair plastered to his forehead so that it sticks up in the air, no longer dripping excess water into his eyes.
“It's fun,” Ohno says, “I like the rain.”
It's still raining when they drive home half an hour later, each of them still soaked, and with their own large stuffed elephant in the back seat. Contrary to expectation, it hasn't put a dampener on their day.
The rest of summer passes in a haze of sleep, painting, seeing friends and vastly varying weather, in which Ohno is waiting on one day, and one day only. August 19th. Judgement day. Results day.
Within the past few weeks his walls have become filled with new paintings. There's a snow scape, with a snowman and slightly shoddy looking igloo; there's a park in cherry blossom season, with a shower of pink petals falling all around; there's a zoo in the midst of summer, with two elephants spraying water over themselves to keep cool. The painting keeps his mind off the inevitable worry of whether or not he's passed his exams, so he spends extortionate amounts of time doing it until finally August 19th arrives, bringing with it the utter joy of acceptance to university - he's passed.
The next month is full of shopping for everything he could possibly need when he moves away, and at last it's time for him to move away and start the next chapter of his life.
He arrives at university with slight trepidation, a lot of excitement, and a car full of stuff. Probably, Ohno thinks, it won't really hit him that he's actually moved away from home for a good two weeks, when it starts to feel less like a holiday and more like he's living in a new city with new people and a new set of expectations upon him.
He's the last person to arrive in his flat, though he doesn't see any of his new flatmates until his parents have hugged him goodbye and left him to sit on his bed feeling more alone than he's ever felt before as he looks up at the paintings hung up on his wall, more than ready to just sink into his imagination like he always does. And that's when there's a knock at his door and a figure standing in his doorway.
Ohno looks up and his breath catches in his throat.
“Hi,” the boy says, giving a little smirk that Ohno's seen a thousand times before, “I'm Nino.”
The sky is a foreboding mixture of light and dark greys, the sea a choppy expanse of black as a crack of thunder races across the beach and the heavens open, a few drops of water on his skin at first, gradually merging into a downpour. He's soaked in a matter of seconds, but rather than running for shelter he throws his head back, arms spread out as the rain water hits him. Lightning cuts across the sky, illuminating the beach for a split second before it returns to a shaded stormy grey, and he laughs, catching the rainwater on his tongue.
His shirt is plastered to him, cold and heavy against his skin. He's freezing with the howling gale that's brought over by the sea, but a warm hand takes his own and he looks across at the figure next to him, eyes shining with delight.
“Let's run.”
They sprint across the sand, hands still clasped as they run without purpose. It seems like they run through the storm for miles before they eventually stop, falling to the ground in peals of breathless laughter. Sand sticks to him wherever he touches the ground; it'll linger for days, impossible to get rid of in just one shower. The laughter finally dies away, replaced by heavy breathing as they regain their energy.
“Typical British summer,” Nino says as they lie on the sand, eyes closed to keep out the rain, “did we really expect anything else?”
“Not really,” he says, squeezing the hand still in his own, “but I like the rain.”
Nino laughs, “so you always say. And it's a good job really, since it always thwarts us when we least expect it.”
“You love it too.”
Nino rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he looks down at Ohno, “of course. I wouldn't still be out here if I didn't.”
“Yes you would,” Ohno says, “I know you well enough by now; You'd stay out for me.”
“I deny that vehemently. Even though it's true.”
Another flash of lightning tears through the sky, followed by a roar of thunder that Ohno can feel moving through him.
“Come on,” Nino says, getting to his feet and holding out a hand for Ohno, “fun as it is Jun won't be too impressed if we end up catching colds.”
Ohno lets himself be hauled to his feet, and they begin to make their way back across the beach, still hand in hand.
“This,” Nino says as they walk across the sand “is the best holiday I've been on in quite some time.”
Ohno laughs, “I'm not sure Jun would agree.”
“Jun needs to learn to accept the British weather. I think he was anticipating some sort of tropical paradise, despite the fact that this is Devon.”
“I think you're probably right.” Ohno agrees.
Nino grins, “Aren't I always?”
“Absolutely not. But at least you like the rain.”
Over the course of the past three years Ohno had begun to think that the stormy beach he'd imagined would never happen - that it was the only one destined to remain a part of his imagination forever. It's with a great sense of accomplishment that he moves that first painting along to the end of the time line he's created in his wall, mapping out each of the scenes that he'd imagined all of those years ago.
With an air of finality he reaches for the photo he'd taken that day, of the beach in the depths of a storm, and blu-tacs it beneath its corresponding painting, like he's done for all of the others.
It's all new from here.