[KinKi Fic] Light's End Water's Edge
This fic has been written for lullabyeforyou for the Sendai earthquake fundraiser on arashi_on. She has given her blessing for this to be made public since some time ago, but only now I remember to do it. =X
The original was 1094 words. This version has one sentence added.
Disclaimer: This writing is fictional and has no commercial purpose. Characters are real persons belonging to themselves.
Pairing: Mild KinKi Kids
Genre: Introspective
Rating: G
Summary: Kouichi reflects about the sea, the sun, and his partner.
---
For Rei
1125 words
Light's End Water's Edge
The sea sparkles, golden under the afternoon sun.
Kouichi has never been particularly fond of scenic landscapes, although he wouldn't exactly mind spending an hour or two staring at the vast body of water contemplating relevant laws of physics at work. But this is no ordinary sea, if only because it has a sentimental nickname attached to it; or at least that is how Kouichi would like to justify why his first thought upon arriving has rather poetically been what perfect lighting it would make if this were to be our stage.
"Ocean of Hope" Tsuyoshi has called this, and even before Kouichi comes to stand here himself he could agree that the glittering expanse does inspire thoughts of how many wonders in the whole universe one is yet to see, how much potential is still undreamed of.
The sheer length of the stretch captured in the high resolution photograph has impressed Kouichi enough to ask for the location, with a long leisurely drive in mind. Tsuyoshi has told him, and perhaps unthinkingly added, "Do you want to go?"
And Kouichi has, rather unthinkingly too, replied, "Let's."
Tsuyoshi is one of the handful of people Kouichi doesn't mind on his passenger seat. He knows what not to touch; he doesn't talk much except when giving directions. He either sleeps or quietly enjoys the passing scenery, leaving Kouichi to his world of speed and torque. Kouichi knows that might not be how Tsuyoshi actually is; that is just how Tsuyoshi is when he is with him. Perhaps it's courtesy. Perhaps it's compromise. Kouichi takes it for granted because he wouldn't have minded the lack of it either.
Even now, Tsuyoshi leaves him alone, sitting in the car with doors open and covered feet on the sand, listening absently to the distant squawking of seabirds, staring blankly at the figure of his partner walking along the shore, occasionally bending down to pick up an eye-catching seashell or twisting to adjust the field of view of the photograph. Tsuyoshi may mock him for coming all the way just to space out, weeks later when they make small talk on TV, but here and now Tsuyoshi lets him be him. To Kouichi, the best moments are over once they arrive at the end of the drive, while of course for Tsuyoshi the fun has only begun.
The sea, the sand, the sun, all these are things Kouichi’s mind associates with Tsuyoshi. There were all those summer jobs, photoshooting or filming commercials or what-have-they, oftentimes with the obligatory splashing around in the warm saltwater, which once caused skin rashes on Tsuyoshi's back that he can still vividly recall. And then there were the Hawaii trips, the first of which was so exciting to the two teenage boys that they were still talking about it for months afterward.
They were so young back then, so pliant, so... exposed. But that's just as well to Kouichi, who has learned more details of Tsuyoshi's life from talk shows and promo interviews than from their limited private conversations, and who has from time to time discovered that what he has light-heartedly divulged years ago, Tsuyoshi remembers.
Tsuyoshi remembers, or rather, Tsuyoshi absorbs. Tsuyoshi's memory is weaved with fluent imagination, hardly precise, but rich with his characteristic hues, taking in sense experiences and churning out words and melodies with natural ease. Kouichi's memory is erratic in comparison, keeping one fact and discarding another with a set of rules that he hasn't bothered to distill, but believes exists.
Kouichi wonders what the sea reminds Tsuyoshi of. Maybe the work he did as KinKi Kids, as how it is for Kouichi. Maybe the diving lessons he took for his drama... the one they recorded "Natsu no Ousama" for. Maybe the photos of deep sea fish in his aquatic magazines. Or maybe it's something else Kouichi doesn't know of.
By this age he no longer worries about Tsuyoshi's private world that is foreign to him, regardless if the media like to dramatize the fact. He no longer needs to count the experiences they have in common to feel secure of the bond. He isn't sure how it happens; it's like the accumulated years have stopped stacking up in their history chart, and are now growing inwards, thickening the foundation, deepening the roots. He owns enough share of Tsuyoshi's life to understand him, to work with him, to realize with him the ideals that were born from their partnership, even if those ideals have never been his own personal dreams.
A stage of ours -- like this ocean, ever unfolding, sparkling...
His physical sense of sight registers the increasingly crimson natural light in his surroundings, and his thoughts refocus on current affairs. They'll need to set off soon if they want to be back in town before midnight.
He leaves the car and walks up to Tsuyoshi. The man has been scribbling something on the sand, but a wave that comes rolling at his feet wipes off the writing before Kouichi gets near enough to read it.
"You wrote it too close to the shoreline," Kouichi remarks, looking down at the faded imprints.
Tsuyoshi's own eyes are fixed on the changing colours in the sky, undisturbed. "It's not meant to last."
Quantumly speaking, that is true for everything -- Ceaselessly the river flows, and yet the water is never the same... -- though Kouichi is almost sure the remark has quite a different interpretation (or five) coming from a long string of philosophical thoughts bubbling inside Tsuyoshi's head for the past hour, which he is not really inclined to try to comprehend... that is, until it turns out he’ll have to write the tunes for it.
Nothing lasts, in the final analysis; the memories he cherishes are of times past, things gone. Yet those have brought them here, legs firm enough to stand in the stream, working towards something better than what they have today, in case tomorrow does come.
Tsuyoshi turns to him. "Time to go?"
Kouichi brushes away the last bits of mental inertia. "Yeah."
They start towards the car, treading slowly on soggy sand, leaving footprints that will not be there by the next light.
Behind them, the sun sinks under the horizon, taking with it all earlier allegories of shining hopes and dreams for the future, and Kouichi contemplates the impracticality of building a stage on a flat plane of wet unsolid ground.
In the darkening twilight, all that remains of the sea is the rippling sound of water splashing on shore, not unlike waves of encore calls from an imaginary audience; or at least that is how Kouichi would like to justify the sudden longing to grasp the hand of the man walking slightly ahead of him.
---
[*] This fic contains a quotation from Houjouki by Kamo no Choumei, as translated by A. L. Sadler:
"Ceaselessly the river flows, and yet the water is never the same, while in the still pools the shifting foam gathers and is gone, never staying for a moment..."
[*] Events in flashback are fictional.
The original was 1094 words. This version has one sentence added.
Disclaimer: This writing is fictional and has no commercial purpose. Characters are real persons belonging to themselves.
Pairing: Mild KinKi Kids
Genre: Introspective
Rating: G
Summary: Kouichi reflects about the sea, the sun, and his partner.
---
For Rei
1125 words
Light's End Water's Edge
The sea sparkles, golden under the afternoon sun.
Kouichi has never been particularly fond of scenic landscapes, although he wouldn't exactly mind spending an hour or two staring at the vast body of water contemplating relevant laws of physics at work. But this is no ordinary sea, if only because it has a sentimental nickname attached to it; or at least that is how Kouichi would like to justify why his first thought upon arriving has rather poetically been what perfect lighting it would make if this were to be our stage.
"Ocean of Hope" Tsuyoshi has called this, and even before Kouichi comes to stand here himself he could agree that the glittering expanse does inspire thoughts of how many wonders in the whole universe one is yet to see, how much potential is still undreamed of.
The sheer length of the stretch captured in the high resolution photograph has impressed Kouichi enough to ask for the location, with a long leisurely drive in mind. Tsuyoshi has told him, and perhaps unthinkingly added, "Do you want to go?"
And Kouichi has, rather unthinkingly too, replied, "Let's."
Tsuyoshi is one of the handful of people Kouichi doesn't mind on his passenger seat. He knows what not to touch; he doesn't talk much except when giving directions. He either sleeps or quietly enjoys the passing scenery, leaving Kouichi to his world of speed and torque. Kouichi knows that might not be how Tsuyoshi actually is; that is just how Tsuyoshi is when he is with him. Perhaps it's courtesy. Perhaps it's compromise. Kouichi takes it for granted because he wouldn't have minded the lack of it either.
Even now, Tsuyoshi leaves him alone, sitting in the car with doors open and covered feet on the sand, listening absently to the distant squawking of seabirds, staring blankly at the figure of his partner walking along the shore, occasionally bending down to pick up an eye-catching seashell or twisting to adjust the field of view of the photograph. Tsuyoshi may mock him for coming all the way just to space out, weeks later when they make small talk on TV, but here and now Tsuyoshi lets him be him. To Kouichi, the best moments are over once they arrive at the end of the drive, while of course for Tsuyoshi the fun has only begun.
The sea, the sand, the sun, all these are things Kouichi’s mind associates with Tsuyoshi. There were all those summer jobs, photoshooting or filming commercials or what-have-they, oftentimes with the obligatory splashing around in the warm saltwater, which once caused skin rashes on Tsuyoshi's back that he can still vividly recall. And then there were the Hawaii trips, the first of which was so exciting to the two teenage boys that they were still talking about it for months afterward.
They were so young back then, so pliant, so... exposed. But that's just as well to Kouichi, who has learned more details of Tsuyoshi's life from talk shows and promo interviews than from their limited private conversations, and who has from time to time discovered that what he has light-heartedly divulged years ago, Tsuyoshi remembers.
Tsuyoshi remembers, or rather, Tsuyoshi absorbs. Tsuyoshi's memory is weaved with fluent imagination, hardly precise, but rich with his characteristic hues, taking in sense experiences and churning out words and melodies with natural ease. Kouichi's memory is erratic in comparison, keeping one fact and discarding another with a set of rules that he hasn't bothered to distill, but believes exists.
Kouichi wonders what the sea reminds Tsuyoshi of. Maybe the work he did as KinKi Kids, as how it is for Kouichi. Maybe the diving lessons he took for his drama... the one they recorded "Natsu no Ousama" for. Maybe the photos of deep sea fish in his aquatic magazines. Or maybe it's something else Kouichi doesn't know of.
By this age he no longer worries about Tsuyoshi's private world that is foreign to him, regardless if the media like to dramatize the fact. He no longer needs to count the experiences they have in common to feel secure of the bond. He isn't sure how it happens; it's like the accumulated years have stopped stacking up in their history chart, and are now growing inwards, thickening the foundation, deepening the roots. He owns enough share of Tsuyoshi's life to understand him, to work with him, to realize with him the ideals that were born from their partnership, even if those ideals have never been his own personal dreams.
A stage of ours -- like this ocean, ever unfolding, sparkling...
His physical sense of sight registers the increasingly crimson natural light in his surroundings, and his thoughts refocus on current affairs. They'll need to set off soon if they want to be back in town before midnight.
He leaves the car and walks up to Tsuyoshi. The man has been scribbling something on the sand, but a wave that comes rolling at his feet wipes off the writing before Kouichi gets near enough to read it.
"You wrote it too close to the shoreline," Kouichi remarks, looking down at the faded imprints.
Tsuyoshi's own eyes are fixed on the changing colours in the sky, undisturbed. "It's not meant to last."
Quantumly speaking, that is true for everything -- Ceaselessly the river flows, and yet the water is never the same... -- though Kouichi is almost sure the remark has quite a different interpretation (or five) coming from a long string of philosophical thoughts bubbling inside Tsuyoshi's head for the past hour, which he is not really inclined to try to comprehend... that is, until it turns out he’ll have to write the tunes for it.
Nothing lasts, in the final analysis; the memories he cherishes are of times past, things gone. Yet those have brought them here, legs firm enough to stand in the stream, working towards something better than what they have today, in case tomorrow does come.
Tsuyoshi turns to him. "Time to go?"
Kouichi brushes away the last bits of mental inertia. "Yeah."
They start towards the car, treading slowly on soggy sand, leaving footprints that will not be there by the next light.
Behind them, the sun sinks under the horizon, taking with it all earlier allegories of shining hopes and dreams for the future, and Kouichi contemplates the impracticality of building a stage on a flat plane of wet unsolid ground.
In the darkening twilight, all that remains of the sea is the rippling sound of water splashing on shore, not unlike waves of encore calls from an imaginary audience; or at least that is how Kouichi would like to justify the sudden longing to grasp the hand of the man walking slightly ahead of him.
---
[*] This fic contains a quotation from Houjouki by Kamo no Choumei, as translated by A. L. Sadler:
"Ceaselessly the river flows, and yet the water is never the same, while in the still pools the shifting foam gathers and is gone, never staying for a moment..."
[*] Events in flashback are fictional.