Fic for singlehappiness and irrelephance (1/2)
Title: Tremors, Part 2
Pairing: Gen, Akame friendship
Word count: ~12,000
Rating: R (strictly for language)
Warnings: Potty mouths and some angst. Also, this fic deals with the 3/11 disaster.
Notes: Thanks so much to L for all of her help throughout every stage of the writing process. Without you, this fic never would have made it out of my head, and I think (at least for me) it was important that it did. Thanks also to R for being such a tireless cheerleader! I hope you find this worth the wait. x3 To my recipients: …oh my god, I'm so nervous! ;_; I initially tried to write something completely different, but the ideas weren't flowing, and this was so much on the forefront of my mind that in the end it kind of just pushed its way onto the paper. I really hope you'll find this to your liking, but if not, of course I completely understand. <3
Summary: Kame knows himself well enough to know exactly why he's in Budapest. After this long, he'd be a fool if he didn't.
March 2011
It doesn't hit Kame right away that he's in Budapest. He's too shattered from the flight, functioning on autopilot after fog in Frankfurt added an extra six hours to his travel time. He has no idea what time it is when he finally lands in Hungary, just that it's already dark outside. He's not sure of the date, either. He knows it's three or four days after March 11th, and that he'll have to be back in Tokyo by the weekend for his radio show and Going! Sports and News. These two facts - and the three day respite he has between them - are all that really matter.
Like any other time he has off, Kame has to make the most of it, even if this time he's not sure what that will entail. He's not normally one for spontaneous overseas trips-not like Jin, or Koki, or even Junno. Kame likes to book well in advance, read travel books from cover to cover, and pick up enough basic phrases in the native language to not embarrass himself or offend anyone.
There hadn't been time for any of that this time. He hadn't even decided where he was going until he'd stepped up to the counter at Narita Airport. All he knew was that he had to get out-to be somewhere other than Japan, to gather his thoughts and come to terms with things. He'd thought of Guam or Hawaii-somewhere warm where he could relax, sun himself, maybe do some surfing; he'd surprised himself more than the ticket attendant when he'd said, "One round-trip ticket to Budapest."
Kame knows himself well enough to know exactly why he's in Budapest. After this long, he'd be a fool if he didn't.
The good thing about airports is that they're pretty much the same wherever he goes. He'd packed light, so he bypasses baggage claim for the currency exchange window. He doesn't know anything about Hungarian currency or the exchange rate, but the 50,000 yen he has in his wallet should sustain him for a few days. Kame doesn't pay attention to the teller counting out the brightly-colored bills, just gathers them up when she's done and dips his head in thanks.
His stomach is still a bit unsettled from the flight, but years in the entertainment business have taught him the importance of maintaining his energy reserves, so he forces himself to stop at a food stand on the way out of the terminal. Picking at a bagel, he scrolls through the e-mails on his phone for the name and address of Jin's hotel. Kame didn't think he'd ever have need of it, but here he is. He copies the letters onto a napkin in careful strokes, not sure if it's English or Hungarian he's writing, but hoping there'll be someone here who can understand it.
Outside, the chill in the spring night air nips at him, more than it would in Tokyo. He draws his leather jacket a bit more tightly around him and joins one of the queues for a taxi switchboard. There are a few cabs lingering outside the terminal, but some of them look more yakuza than Kame feels comfortable with, drivers leaning against their cars and casually smoking, so he sticks to the line. He might be running on fumes after nearly a full day of traveling, but he knows a dangerous situation when he sees one.
Thankfully the payphone has instructions in simple-enough English, and within fifteen minutes a legitimate-looking cab pulls up to the curb. Once he's climbed into the back, Kame hands the driver the napkin with Jin's hotel address on it, and they're off.
In the posh backseat of the cab, it would be easy to let his mind wander, but he resists the urge. There will be a time to let his thoughts and emotions run free, but this isn't it. He needs to keep them locked away a little bit longer. He knows exactly what's lurking up there, and it's not something… it's a lot of somethings he's not ready to face yet. He needs to see Jin and hopefully get some sleep first. He looks out the window to distract himself. There's not much to see in the darkness, but the bright lights shining on both sides of the river give a hint of the city's splendor. Kame can't wait to see it in the full light of day.
The cab driver makes a right, taking them onto a bridge over the river. Even in the dark, the view is breathtaking. The lights of the city reflected in the calm waters remind Kame a bit of Rainbow Bridge and Tokyo Bay, except where Tokyo Bay has cranes and docklands, Budapest has castles and cathedrals. Right now Japan feels like a completely different world.
And yet, Kame gets a strange feeling of déjà vu. It's almost impossible not to think back to the last time he was in a cab going over a bridge in the dark-- had it really only been three days ago? At least they're moving this time, not stuck in a snarling traffic jam. They'll be off the bridge soon, because Kame doesn't want to spend any more time suspended up here than he absolutely has to. Looking out the window to the eerie depths below, he tries not to feel nervous, but there it is, crawling up the back of his throat. The car jerks-just a bump, but it starts Kame's heart pounding in his chest. He grips at the handle above the door 'til his knuckles turn white. He doesn't draw breath until they're safely back on solid ground.
There used to be a time when Kame didn't think twice about going over bridges.
Had it really only been three days ago?
~*~*~*~
If Kame thought he felt shattered when he got off the plane, then there isn't a word to describe the feeling when he finally arrives at the hotel.
He remembers to smile and tip the cab driver, and then he's on his own, shouldering his Louis Vuitton duffel as he heads into the lobby.
The address Jin sent him included the room number, so Kame doesn't bother with bellhops or the concierge, making a beeline for the elevators. A few moments later, he's standing outside room #808, staring at the brass-plated numbers on the closed door. He takes a deep breath. Kame knows why he's in Budapest, but somehow the reality that Jin is on the other side of the door is something else entirely. Will Jin even be okay with him dropping in like this? What if Jin's busy? What if he's not even in? Kame would have preferred to call first, but there hadn't been time for that, and his phone is a useless piece of plastic away from Japan's cell towers.
They've always had this sort of dynamic to their relationship, though. As horrible as they've been at making plans, whenever things got really tough they'd always managed to find time for each other. Kame remembers stretching out in the back of Jin's mom's car after that nasty fall during Dream Boys, and a few years later driving to Yokohama to offer support when Jin could barely stand up by himself, let alone focus on shooting his first feature film.
What's happened this time is bigger than work, bigger than both of them, and all Kame need recall is the panicked, lost look on Jin's face over Skype three days ago to reassure himself that coming here was the right decision. Even though Jin hadn't been there when it happened, it's likely he needs a friend right now as much as Kame does. Even though Kame's shown up on Jin's doorstep in Budapest with just a carry-on bag to his name, he knows that'll be enough.
Running his tongue over his lips once, Kame steps forward and raps lightly at the door.
At first there's no response, but then Kame hears the telltale sound of Jin's shuffling footsteps. He tightens his grip on the shoulder strap and takes a deep breath.
The door swings open, and Jin's right in front of him. Kame's first thought is that Jin looks thinner than ever in his baggy clothes, and the dark circles under his eyes stand out as much as Kame has gotten used to seeing on his own face. Jin doesn't look like he's been getting much sleep, and he's not the only one.
All signs of fatigue fade from Jin's face when he realizes who it is standing before his door. At first he looks like he's seen Kame's ghost, but then his face lights up in one of his bright trademark smiles.
"Holy shit. Kazu...what are you doing here?"
Jin's smile is infectious, even under the weight of Kame's nervousness and exhaustion. He examines the toe of his boots. "I felt like I had to get out of Japan. For a while. After-- after what happened. It was..." Kame trails off, licking his lips. He's not exactly sure what it was. Maybe that's one of the things he's here to find out.
"Yeah," Jin says, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "Yeah, I get that. Um..." He scratches idly at the nape of his neck and glances over his shoulder into his hotel room. "You want to come in? You're welcome to stay-- of course you are, if you want. There's plenty of room, and...yeah."
Kame dips his head in gratitude and follows Jin inside. Ojama shimasu. He doesn't even have time to take off his shoes before Jin's shutting the door behind them and pulling him into a hug so tight Kame can barely breathe. It's a good feeling.
"Fuck, I'm so glad you're here. It's been hell. I've been going out of my fucking mind here by myself."
Kame just wraps his arms tightly around Jin's shoulders. "I know."
But then, abruptly, Jin pulls back, his eyes downcast. "Sorry. Did you just get in? You probably want to sleep, huh? You look shredded." He pauses, and then the corner of his mouth quirks upwards, just once. "Even for you."
Kame remembers a time when Jin would poke the dark circles under his eyes and sing, "Ku~ma," his face lighting up with glee. Now the soft smile Jin gives him says all of it, and more.
"Yeah...thanks."
"And if you want to take a shower first, there's towels and shampoo and stuff. Help yourself."
Kame smiles gratefully. Jin's well-aware the first thing he wants to do any time he travels is wash away the invisible layer of grime a plane deposits on his skin. 'Plane scum,' he calls it, and Jin would always laugh at the way just saying it made his nose scrunch up in disgust.
It still does. He feels disgusting, and Jin's offer of a shower sounds heavenly. "Thanks," he says again.
It's settling, in a way. It reminds Kame that this isn't the first time they've crossed oceans to see each other. Obviously the circumstances could be better this time, but... Kame gives himself a little shake before he can pursue that particular train of thought much farther. He's glad he's here, and that's all there is to it. He takes his bag with him into the bathroom, switches on the lights and the fan, and shuts the door.
By the time he emerges, wrapped up in one of the hotel's terrycloth bathrobes and the ends of his hair still dripping around his shoulders, Jin has the foldout bed pulled out for him. He promptly flops down onto it, not even bothering to change into pajamas or dry his hair. For a while, he hears Jin moving about the suite, but soon the edges of his mind go fuzzy, and he slips into deep, exhausted sleep.
~*~*~*~
The next time Kame stirs, there's bright sunlight streaming into the room; he can see it even behind his closed eyelids. That throws him. He's not used to waking up in morning sunlight. Unless it's not actually morning, but afternoon. His manager will have his hide if he's somehow managed to sleep the day away.
Somewhere off to his left, he hears movement-a jangling of keys, the turn of a door handle. It brings him back. He's not in his apartment. He's in a hotel suite in Budapest. Jin's hotel suite. He flew all the way to Hungary yesterday, and now he's on a lumpy pullout bed, wrapped up in a bathrobe and a cocoon of sheets.
His bones pop as he goes to sit up. He feels stiff and sore all over, whether from the plane ride or deep sleep, he's not sure. He can only imagine what he must look like. His five-o'-clock shadow has grown into soft fuzz overnight, and he doesn't need a mirror to know that going to bed with wet hair has given him cowlicks. He reaches up, and sure enough, his wavy locks curl into knots around his fingers. Lovely. What his fans would think if they could see him now-perfect idol Kamenashi Kazuya with stubble and bedhead. It might make minor headlines at home. Kame is very glad he's nowhere near home. Here there's only Jin, who couldn't care less what he looks like and probably never has.
Or so Kame thinks. He hears a snort that sounds suspiciously like laughter. He blinks against the blinding sunlight to glare in the sound's direction. Eventually the fuzziness fades from his vision, and he focuses on Jin standing in the doorway, seemingly already dressed and ready for work. It's weird in itself for Jin to be up and out the door before Kame, but everything about this situation is weird. It doesn't feel real, being here, waking up in a hotel room in a distant European country paid for by a Hollywood film studio. It's like he's left the real world behind, like none of the events of the past 72 hours have actually taken place. How must Jin have felt, being here all alone when halfway around the world the earth shifted.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Jin says, sounding far too cheerful for any time before noon, laughter still in his voice. He must have had his coffee already. "Sleep well?"
Abruptly snapped out of his thoughts, Kame hesitates to answer. It's too early and he's too groggy to think.; he flops back down onto his pillow with a muffled groan. Everything hurts.
"I've gotta go, but, uh...make yourself at home, I guess? I got you a second key, so you can head out and do some sightseeing if you want. Or, you know, whatever. Whatever you want. I'll be back later. ...Ciao."
Kame lifts his hand in a lazy wave and curls up to his pillow once the door shuts, smiling against the fabric. Jin makes it so easy to feel like he's just on vacation, that this isn't something bigger or more unsettling. It helps. Kame's not sure what he'll end up doing, but the idea that he can set his own schedule and do what he wants is great.
Before he can even entertain the idea of getting up, though, his eyelids start to feel heavy again, and it's pure bliss to let them fall closed. Maybe he'll sleep just a little while longer.
~*~*~*~
The sunlight doesn't blind him the next time he opens his eyes. It's still light outside, but the sun must definitely be in the latter half of its trek across the sky, if its rays aren't streaming through the windows and straight into his eyes. Kame sits up, stretches again, and the fog around the edges of his consciousness has mostly faded. He feels human again.
Jin isn't back yet, but Kame takes the man at his word and makes himself at home. He finds the key to Jin's earlier chipperness in the form of a coffeepot on the kitchen counter. He sets another pot to brew and heads into the bathroom to shower again.
When he gets out, he shaves and promptly blow-dries his hair, feeling fresher and more awake for the effort. Coffee helps, too. He and Jin both prefer their roasts dark and full-bodied, and the blend Jin has on hand doesn't disappoint. Kame takes his mug to the sliding glass door leading onto the balcony and admires the view. Jin's suggestion to go sightseeing was a good one: the Budapest skyline along the river is as beautiful as the city lights out the plane window had promised. Kame's DSLR is in his duffel. He could get some amazing shots. Something holds him back, though. Leaving the hotel to go explore the city feels like it would take a lot of effort-energy he doesn't feel he has yet. For one thing, he's famished. His stomach quickly starts protesting its lack of anything but strong black coffee.
Kame doesn't put much faith in Jin's fridge, seeing as he's terrible about stocking it even when he's home and not filming a Hollywood blockbuster. Kame tries his luck anyway. As expected, the shelves are mostly bare, and Kame has to register his amazement that anything edible can fit amongst the bottles of liquor (mostly vodka) crammed in the freezer. He pulls out a plastic bag of what appears to be leftover fried rice and hopes Jin hadn't been planning on eating it any time soon as he dumps it on a plate and sticks it in the microwave.
While the rice defrosts, Kame raids the cabinets, happy to stuff his face with potato chips for the three minutes he has to sit and watch his plate turn in the microwave. He'll have to make it up to Jin for eating him out of house and home (not home, Kame reminds himself, hotel) by going shopping for him or offering to split for room service the rest of the time he's here, or something. Whatever he does, it'll be a task for a different day. The microwave dings, and he settles in to eat.
When he's finished, Kame washes his dishes and switches on the TV. Watching movies is something he enjoys but rarely has time to do at home. He scrolls through the catalog, ready to order some American action flick with a plot easy enough to follow even without subtitles, but he hesitates. The charge will be posted to Jin's room. If the timestamp appears on the bill, it might be noticed that someone was ordering movies while Jin was supposed to be out filming, and that could cause Jin a lot of unnecessary trouble. Kame thinks about things like this. The last thing he wants to do is cause any trouble, so he settles for the local cable, if only for background noise, because of course, all the programming is in Hungarian.
Putzing around the hotel room makes Kame feel more like a freeloader than ever; the least he can do is make himself useful while Jin's out. He'd noticed the kitchen was in need of a good clean, as was the bathroom. He might not be able to do much about Jin's laundry, not knowing where the laundry services were and not particularly keen on searching the building to find them, but he could at least pile it out of the way. And maybe sort it. Rolling up his sleeves, Kame finds some cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink and gets to work.
~*~*~*~
Jin gets back not long after Kame finishes. The lemon scent of cleaning products still lingers in the air, and Kame sees Jin's nose scrunch up from where he's sprawled on the pullout.
"Were you cleaning?" Jin asks, as though he finds the very idea revolting.
"Maybe?" Kame offers, pushing up on his elbows to address Jin. "I felt like I should at least make myself useful while I'm here."
Jin rolls his eyes, an automatic gesture Kame used to find infuriating. "I go to all the trouble of lying to the front desk to get a second key so you can come and go as you please, and you spend the day cleaning? Don't know if anyone's ever told you, but you're a freak, Kazu."
Kame can't help but laugh a little at the gentle insult. It makes it easier for him to admit, "I'll get out and act like a normal tourist tomorrow. I just kind of felt like lying low today." He doesn't feel like elaborating on that, so he changes the subject. "Was it a lot of trouble to get another key?"
Jin shrugs. It's hard to tell in the low light, but when Jin glances off to the side it looks like he's...blushing?
"Nah. All I had to do was tell them I got drunk, accidentally dropped my key over the balcony railing and needed a new one. But you know I can't lie for shit, so I kind of fucked it up."
Kame nods. He does know that. It's one of those things that makes Jin a great musician, but a terrible idol. "So what did you say?"
Jin takes his lower lip between his teeth. "I told them I threw it from the balcony. With a cry. Don't know what I was thinking..."
While Kame laughs, clapping and kicking his legs in mirth, Jin gets himself a beer (one of the few items left in the fridge). "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, asshole. Now you've got it, you better use the thing. I don't want to come back here tomorrow to find you've spent the whole day moping around again."
Jin's talking shit and acting tough, trying to save face. He doesn't realize how closely his words hit the mark. Kame smiles and says, more seriously, "I will. I kind of just needed a day, you know?"
Jin nods. "No, I know. I get that. We all need a day off sometimes. It's just not good if you do it too long. You've gotta get out and live your life. And working doesn't count."
Jin's the only person Kame will take this kind of advice from, because Jin knows what he's talking about. Jin's always lived his life that way, and little by little, it seems like the things he wants most out of life are falling into his lap one by one. For better or worse, Kame has always respected him for that.
"Anyway," Jin says suddenly, "I brought you some leftovers. Didn't know if you'd eaten or not."
Kame sits up at the mention of food. The rice feels like it was ages ago. "You didn't have a lot around to eat. Whatever was left I probably devoured today. Sorry about that."
"Don't worry about it. They feed us pretty well on-set, and when they don't, we usually find somewhere to go out. So I haven't had to cook much, or even really go shopping too often."
"Then let me cook for you, or at least do your shopping. It's the least I can--"
Jin just shakes his head. "For god's sake, Kazu, just shut up. Why do you keep saying that? I'm glad you're here." Then Jin drops down beside him on the mattress and all but thrusts a Styrofoam container in his lap, followed by a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks. Jin goes as far as to open the container for him, revealing more of the fried rice he'd found in the freezer, still steaming. Jin breaks the chopsticks, too, making Kame wonder if Jin intends to eat it for him as well. But Jin doesn't, just hands over the chopsticks and says, "Eat."
So Kame does.
It's awkward at first, having Jin there watching him shovel fried rice into his mouth, but in a way it reminds him of when he was 19, working too hard and not eating enough, because nerves and the pressure of performing made him feel like he wouldn't be able to keep anything down. Those days feel like forever ago; they've both come a long way since then, but it's nice to have little reminders that some things haven't changed, such as Jin's firm voice telling him to eat. Also Jin picking out the best parts of his meal to eat himself. It didn't particularly bother Kame then, and it still doesn't bother him now. A couple of times, he even gives Jin the chopsticks to use, and between the two of them, it doesn't take long to finish off the rice.
Jin slumps against the back of the sofa while Kame sets the empty container on the end table, and Jin says, "That was good," like the food had been for him all along. It's one of those things Kame can't fault Jin for and never has. Jin's just Jin, and for every annoying quirk or bad trait he has, he makes up for it in spades with his kindness and sincerity. How can Kame get mad at him for taking a few bites of fried rice when it was Jin who'd thought to bring it back in the first place?
Their entire relationship's been like this, in a way. Over the years they've learned to take the bad with the good when it comes to each other, and maybe they needed the long years of alternatively being at each other's throats, ignoring each other's existences, and tentatively, cautiously coming together again to make amends in order to reach the level of friendship and understanding that they have now. Kame might feel like a stranger in Jin's hotel suite, but he's there for a reason, a reason that's becoming clearer to him the more time he spends with Jin.
Jin nudges his shoulder again suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Looked like you were somewhere else," Jin observes, and Kame thinks Jin, again, isn't too far off the mark.
"Hey, Kazu," comes Jin's voice again, "you want a beer or something? You look kinda out of it."
Beer sounds wonderful, the exact thing Kame needs to chase his thoughts away. "Yeah, a beer would be great," he says, and Jin gets up to get one for him.
They end up watching a pay-per-view movie after all-some action flick Kame's already seen, so he doesn't need a running commentary from Jin to understand what's going on. It's a good one (or else he wouldn't have agreed to watch it again), but Kame still finds himself getting drowsy about two-thirds of the way through. He's not sure whether it's jet lag or the alcohol. All he knows is that Jin's shoulder looks like a more attractive pillow every time his eyes slip shut and he feels himself start to slip away. He catches himself the first few times he starts to nod off, forcing his eyes open and sitting up straight, but eventually he gives in. He lets his head drop, and he's already too far gone to feel Jin's arm slip around his shoulders.
Jin doesn't do anything more, just finishes both his beer and the movie before laying Kame flat on the mattress and heading to bed himself. He shuts off the living room lights on his way, bathing Kame's sleeping figure in pale blue shadows.
~*~*~*~
When Kame wakes, it's to pitch darkness and the overwhelming sense that the room is shaking. His body goes rigid with fear, and he clutches at the sheets, feeling his heart thud hard and uneven against his ribcage. Rolling anxiety clutches his stomach, his only thoughts, 'How long will it last?' and, 'How big will it get?', because the big one had started out small. It had been nothing more than a gentle rocking at first, like riding in a car, but it had grown quickly to the point where Kame'd had to fight to stay on his feet. For a long time afterwards he hadn't been able to tell if the ground was still shaking or if it was just his legs. It had been the most terrifying three minutes of his life.
And four days later, it's happening again. Halfway around the world, in Budapest. Kame wants to cry out, partially at the unfairness of it all, but mostly in fear. Budapest doesn't look like a city built to withstand major earthquakes. The thought that the bricks and mortar could collapse around them at any second makes Kame long for Tokyo and its walls of steel-reinforced concrete. But even the most prepared country in the world is still vulnerable. March 11th shattered his illusions of security, making Kame realize, perhaps for the first time, that nowhere is ever truly safe.
He should wake Jin. If Budapest and the hotel are susceptible to earthquakes, they could both be in danger. But the moment Kame swings his legs over the bed and rests his bare feet on the carpet, the shaking stops. Kame feels his stomach unclench, but it takes much longer for his heart to cease its frantic, sickening thudding and return to normal. Cold sweat beads on Kame's neck. The room had never been shaking. He'd imagined the whole thing.
"Fuck," he curses in the darkness, clutching at the ends of his hair damp with sweat. He knows that what just came over him is different from either a nightmare or a panic attack. There's a word for it in Japanese, though Kame had only heard it for the first time a few days ago. Jishinyoi. Earthquake sickness. A layman's term, a culturally acceptable way of saying 'post-traumatic stress disorder'. Kame has it, and somehow the thought that his brain can unconsciously take him back to that moment and relive it freaks him out more than the idea of the walls coming down around him.
He hadn't been running away, per se, but he had wanted to put some distance between himself and Japan, to calm himself down. He only has a few days before his work obligations will resume-a few days before he has to appear on national television for Going! Sports and News and comment on the segment he'd shot on location the week before.
A week ago. Before plates shifted and shook their entire world. Does the network expect him, Ueda-san, and everyone else to pretend like nothing has happened, for the sake of maintaining continuity? If that's the case, Kame doesn't know if he can do it. His internal switch that allows him to separate work from his personal life is damaged, and he'd hoped that getting away for a few days would give him the rest and the perspective necessary to fix it.
But apparently not. He experienced the disaster firsthand, like everyone else, and it's part of him now. It's etched into the cultural fabric, and they might never be able to go back to life before one of the five largest earthquakes in the past century had struck off the coast of Sendai (or so NHK had reported). He bears the same deep rents that everyone in Japan does, but the difference between them and him is that he's Kamenashi Kazuya. They don't have an idol persona to maintain. The last thing Kame wants is to let those rents surface in the face he presents to his co-workers, the fans, and the world, but he has no idea how to stop them from showing.
Before he can figure out anything, first he needs to calm the fuck down. He fights his way free of the covers and paces, taking deep breaths to try and relax his still nervous, fluttering heartbeat. His tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth, and his stomach, still rolling and clenching with fear, makes him vaguely nauseous. Water. He needs water.
He gets a glass from one of the cupboards, fills it in the sink and downs it, gasping as he sets it back on the counter. He swallows a few times, grips at the edge of the counter, and tries to will himself to feel better.
Nerves. Kame's always had them worse than others, and being an idol, striving constantly for perfection, hasn't exactly helped that. This is pretty bad as far as anxiety attacks go. He can't get control of himself. He can't stop his mind from reliving the paralyzing fear of that day, and it has his body in its clutches. He wonders if it'll ever get better, or if he'll always carry this fear around with him. There's no way of knowing, and that scares him, too.
He doesn't realize he's woken Jin up until he feels eyes on him, and he looks up to see Jin watching from the doorway that separates the living room from the bedroom.
"Kazu, are you okay? What's wrong?"
Kame hears the concern in Jin's voice, and fuck, the last thing he wants to do is make Jin worry about him. Not about this. This is nothing. He'll calm down and eventually be able to get back to sleep, maybe after a strong drink. He just needs a bit longer to himself to push his irrational thoughts to the back of his mind and recompose himself.
"It's nothing," he stammers out, but tightens his grip on the counter. He feels like he's in free-fall, like the world's tilting away beneath his feet and at any moment he's going to start sliding forward into...
"The hell it is," Jin snaps, and Kame's head snaps up to look at him. "Something's been up with you since you got here, so why don't you just tell me what it is?"
"I've been through hell, Jin!" Kame fires back. He doesn't mean to snap. It's not even something he should say. He's had it easy compared to other people, up in Sendai, Miyagi, and Fukushima, who really have seen hell rising up before their eyes. Not him. His own grandparents, up in Tochigi prefecture... His parents finally managed to reach them on the phone, and they're fine, but they're still experiencing aftershocks upwards of magnitude 5 every day, and no one knows what condition the roads are in up there, or else Kame's father would have evacuated them to Edogawa by now.
Kame chokes, and his chest starts heaving with sobs. He doesn't know how long he's been on the verge of tears, but they're overflowing now, and he doesn't even try to stop them. He just raises his hands to his face, so Jin doesn't have to see him lose it completely.
Jin's large hands grip his shoulders to turn him around, and then strong arms wrap around him. He takes the offered shoulder, pressing his face to the collar of Jin's T-shirt. For a long time, Jin doesn't say anything, just keeps Kame in a tight embrace until his sobs eventually start to subside.
Even after Kame pulls away, wiping away the remnants of his tears with the heels of his palms, the only thing Jin says is, "You want a smoke?"
Kame hasn't had a cigarette since the smoking lounge at Narita. He hadn't so much as dared venture out onto the balcony for fear of drawing unnecessary attention to himself (the last thing any of them need is an 'Akakame spotting at the Budapest Four Seasons' to appear on some staff member's blog), but now that Jin's offering, he needs one. Nicotine might be the only thing that can stop him from feeling so goddamned dizzy.
Kame nods, following Jin back towards the bedroom. He barely manages to avoid getting a face full of sweatshirt when Jin tosses one to him, and he gratefully puts it on. He hadn't thought of nights hovering just above freezing when he'd packed. Kame grabs his cigarettes and then his thin coat, merely to have another layer of protection against the cold, and watches in shaky, silent amusement as Jin tries to free the comforter from the bed. It might be overkill to take heavy blankets out onto the balcony just to have a smoke, except he knows just how vulnerable Jin is to the winter chill and persistent viruses.
Kame can't say he's ungrateful for it, either, when Jin wraps the thick fabric under and around both of them, so they can sit somewhat comfortably on the concrete outside. Jin sets an ashtray down before them, and Kame scoots a little closer. Between the shared body heat and thick layers insulating them from the elements, the late night chill doesn't have a way to seep in.
Jin offers him a light, and the first drag on the end of the filter feels heavenly. Kame closes his eyes and exhales, letting the tension he's been holding onto drift away with the cooling smoke. Jin lights up beside him, and Kame feels Jin relax where they're pressed together at the shoulder.
Neither of them speak for a long time, but the silence isn't uncomfortable. Kame prefers the repetitive motion of bringing a cigarette to his lips to any conversation they could be having. It gives him time to clear his overworked mind, and the nicotine certainly helps.
They smoke their cigarettes down to the filters, and Jin lights up another before he speaks. "Kazu, are you really okay?" he asks.
Kame cringes. Jin always gets straight to the point. "I don't know," he answers honestly. He puts out his spent cigarette in the ashtray and reaches for another. "I've never been so scared in my entire life, and I can't shake it... who the hell knows what's going to happen now? It's like a nightmare made real."
"It's okay if you're not okay, you know. No one expects you to be, after what happened. It's affected all of us, and you're human, not a fucking robot. If they're expecting you to act like everything's fine when it's not, then fuck it, and fuck them. They're not worth it."
Kame hums in acknowledgement and flicks his ashes into the ashtray, shoulders hunched over in thought.
"And you don't have to tell me it's been like a nightmare," Jin continues, and Kame can't tell if it's bitterness or something else he's hearing in Jin's voice. "It's been hell here too, not knowing what's going on over there. I don't understand why we even have to show up for filming when it's obvious everyone's just sitting around worrying. You know some people still don't even know if their families are okay? And me, the only reason I know people are okay is because everyone I want to know about has me on Skype. But fuck, I feel so helpless here, cooped up at work or in this room glued to my phone and computer. It sucks knowing there's nothing I can do short of flying home, and what good would that even do? My being home won't change what happened. So I'm stuck here, and every moment of it has been absolute fucking hell."
Kame doesn't say anything, just listens as Jin vents his feelings. It's hard to figure out just what to say to that, anyway.
"So it's a good thing you're here," Jin says after a moment's pause. "I was starting to go crazy being here by myself."
Jin looks away to flick some dangling ashes into the ashtray, and Kame takes advantage of Jin's distraction to lay his head on Jin's shoulder. "I felt the same way. It felt like the fear was about to swallow me whole. So I got out." Kame reaches across to put out his cigarette, and he closes his eyes. A moment later, he feels Jin's arm slip around his shoulders in that way that's always felt natural to them. Even now, being with Jin makes Kame forget there's another world exists beyond the two of them. It's what he needs sometimes, and he's pretty sure it's the same for Jin.
Kame hears Jin's quiet murmur -- "I'm glad you came," -- before they both go quiet, staring out at the stars and the calm, inky water of the Danube below.
They don't move until the cold finally starts to permeate their shell of blankets, and Kame feels Jin start shivering next to him.
"Think you can sleep now?" Jin asks, and Kame thinks he would have been able to fall asleep right there against Jin's shoulder had it been just a little bit warmer. As it's only mid-March, they'd probably do well to get back inside, before Jin gets sick.
"Yeah," Kame answers sleepily, and the two of them shuffle back inside, still wrapped in their blanket cocoon. While Kame sheds his outer layers, Jin tosses the comforter back on the bed and kicks the thermostat up. Kame isn't nearly as surprised as he thinks he should be when Jin wordlessly climbs onto the pullout bed with him. Jin doesn't curl close or throw an arm over Kame's waist like he might have done in the past, but somehow just having Jin close by helps Kame relax. He soon drifts into a dreamless sleep, lulled by the gentle puffs of Jin's steady breathing.
Part 2
Pairing: Gen, Akame friendship
Word count: ~12,000
Rating: R (strictly for language)
Warnings: Potty mouths and some angst. Also, this fic deals with the 3/11 disaster.
Notes: Thanks so much to L for all of her help throughout every stage of the writing process. Without you, this fic never would have made it out of my head, and I think (at least for me) it was important that it did. Thanks also to R for being such a tireless cheerleader! I hope you find this worth the wait. x3 To my recipients: …oh my god, I'm so nervous! ;_; I initially tried to write something completely different, but the ideas weren't flowing, and this was so much on the forefront of my mind that in the end it kind of just pushed its way onto the paper. I really hope you'll find this to your liking, but if not, of course I completely understand. <3
Summary: Kame knows himself well enough to know exactly why he's in Budapest. After this long, he'd be a fool if he didn't.
March 2011
It doesn't hit Kame right away that he's in Budapest. He's too shattered from the flight, functioning on autopilot after fog in Frankfurt added an extra six hours to his travel time. He has no idea what time it is when he finally lands in Hungary, just that it's already dark outside. He's not sure of the date, either. He knows it's three or four days after March 11th, and that he'll have to be back in Tokyo by the weekend for his radio show and Going! Sports and News. These two facts - and the three day respite he has between them - are all that really matter.
Like any other time he has off, Kame has to make the most of it, even if this time he's not sure what that will entail. He's not normally one for spontaneous overseas trips-not like Jin, or Koki, or even Junno. Kame likes to book well in advance, read travel books from cover to cover, and pick up enough basic phrases in the native language to not embarrass himself or offend anyone.
There hadn't been time for any of that this time. He hadn't even decided where he was going until he'd stepped up to the counter at Narita Airport. All he knew was that he had to get out-to be somewhere other than Japan, to gather his thoughts and come to terms with things. He'd thought of Guam or Hawaii-somewhere warm where he could relax, sun himself, maybe do some surfing; he'd surprised himself more than the ticket attendant when he'd said, "One round-trip ticket to Budapest."
Kame knows himself well enough to know exactly why he's in Budapest. After this long, he'd be a fool if he didn't.
The good thing about airports is that they're pretty much the same wherever he goes. He'd packed light, so he bypasses baggage claim for the currency exchange window. He doesn't know anything about Hungarian currency or the exchange rate, but the 50,000 yen he has in his wallet should sustain him for a few days. Kame doesn't pay attention to the teller counting out the brightly-colored bills, just gathers them up when she's done and dips his head in thanks.
His stomach is still a bit unsettled from the flight, but years in the entertainment business have taught him the importance of maintaining his energy reserves, so he forces himself to stop at a food stand on the way out of the terminal. Picking at a bagel, he scrolls through the e-mails on his phone for the name and address of Jin's hotel. Kame didn't think he'd ever have need of it, but here he is. He copies the letters onto a napkin in careful strokes, not sure if it's English or Hungarian he's writing, but hoping there'll be someone here who can understand it.
Outside, the chill in the spring night air nips at him, more than it would in Tokyo. He draws his leather jacket a bit more tightly around him and joins one of the queues for a taxi switchboard. There are a few cabs lingering outside the terminal, but some of them look more yakuza than Kame feels comfortable with, drivers leaning against their cars and casually smoking, so he sticks to the line. He might be running on fumes after nearly a full day of traveling, but he knows a dangerous situation when he sees one.
Thankfully the payphone has instructions in simple-enough English, and within fifteen minutes a legitimate-looking cab pulls up to the curb. Once he's climbed into the back, Kame hands the driver the napkin with Jin's hotel address on it, and they're off.
In the posh backseat of the cab, it would be easy to let his mind wander, but he resists the urge. There will be a time to let his thoughts and emotions run free, but this isn't it. He needs to keep them locked away a little bit longer. He knows exactly what's lurking up there, and it's not something… it's a lot of somethings he's not ready to face yet. He needs to see Jin and hopefully get some sleep first. He looks out the window to distract himself. There's not much to see in the darkness, but the bright lights shining on both sides of the river give a hint of the city's splendor. Kame can't wait to see it in the full light of day.
The cab driver makes a right, taking them onto a bridge over the river. Even in the dark, the view is breathtaking. The lights of the city reflected in the calm waters remind Kame a bit of Rainbow Bridge and Tokyo Bay, except where Tokyo Bay has cranes and docklands, Budapest has castles and cathedrals. Right now Japan feels like a completely different world.
And yet, Kame gets a strange feeling of déjà vu. It's almost impossible not to think back to the last time he was in a cab going over a bridge in the dark-- had it really only been three days ago? At least they're moving this time, not stuck in a snarling traffic jam. They'll be off the bridge soon, because Kame doesn't want to spend any more time suspended up here than he absolutely has to. Looking out the window to the eerie depths below, he tries not to feel nervous, but there it is, crawling up the back of his throat. The car jerks-just a bump, but it starts Kame's heart pounding in his chest. He grips at the handle above the door 'til his knuckles turn white. He doesn't draw breath until they're safely back on solid ground.
There used to be a time when Kame didn't think twice about going over bridges.
Had it really only been three days ago?
~*~*~*~
If Kame thought he felt shattered when he got off the plane, then there isn't a word to describe the feeling when he finally arrives at the hotel.
He remembers to smile and tip the cab driver, and then he's on his own, shouldering his Louis Vuitton duffel as he heads into the lobby.
The address Jin sent him included the room number, so Kame doesn't bother with bellhops or the concierge, making a beeline for the elevators. A few moments later, he's standing outside room #808, staring at the brass-plated numbers on the closed door. He takes a deep breath. Kame knows why he's in Budapest, but somehow the reality that Jin is on the other side of the door is something else entirely. Will Jin even be okay with him dropping in like this? What if Jin's busy? What if he's not even in? Kame would have preferred to call first, but there hadn't been time for that, and his phone is a useless piece of plastic away from Japan's cell towers.
They've always had this sort of dynamic to their relationship, though. As horrible as they've been at making plans, whenever things got really tough they'd always managed to find time for each other. Kame remembers stretching out in the back of Jin's mom's car after that nasty fall during Dream Boys, and a few years later driving to Yokohama to offer support when Jin could barely stand up by himself, let alone focus on shooting his first feature film.
What's happened this time is bigger than work, bigger than both of them, and all Kame need recall is the panicked, lost look on Jin's face over Skype three days ago to reassure himself that coming here was the right decision. Even though Jin hadn't been there when it happened, it's likely he needs a friend right now as much as Kame does. Even though Kame's shown up on Jin's doorstep in Budapest with just a carry-on bag to his name, he knows that'll be enough.
Running his tongue over his lips once, Kame steps forward and raps lightly at the door.
At first there's no response, but then Kame hears the telltale sound of Jin's shuffling footsteps. He tightens his grip on the shoulder strap and takes a deep breath.
The door swings open, and Jin's right in front of him. Kame's first thought is that Jin looks thinner than ever in his baggy clothes, and the dark circles under his eyes stand out as much as Kame has gotten used to seeing on his own face. Jin doesn't look like he's been getting much sleep, and he's not the only one.
All signs of fatigue fade from Jin's face when he realizes who it is standing before his door. At first he looks like he's seen Kame's ghost, but then his face lights up in one of his bright trademark smiles.
"Holy shit. Kazu...what are you doing here?"
Jin's smile is infectious, even under the weight of Kame's nervousness and exhaustion. He examines the toe of his boots. "I felt like I had to get out of Japan. For a while. After-- after what happened. It was..." Kame trails off, licking his lips. He's not exactly sure what it was. Maybe that's one of the things he's here to find out.
"Yeah," Jin says, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "Yeah, I get that. Um..." He scratches idly at the nape of his neck and glances over his shoulder into his hotel room. "You want to come in? You're welcome to stay-- of course you are, if you want. There's plenty of room, and...yeah."
Kame dips his head in gratitude and follows Jin inside. Ojama shimasu. He doesn't even have time to take off his shoes before Jin's shutting the door behind them and pulling him into a hug so tight Kame can barely breathe. It's a good feeling.
"Fuck, I'm so glad you're here. It's been hell. I've been going out of my fucking mind here by myself."
Kame just wraps his arms tightly around Jin's shoulders. "I know."
But then, abruptly, Jin pulls back, his eyes downcast. "Sorry. Did you just get in? You probably want to sleep, huh? You look shredded." He pauses, and then the corner of his mouth quirks upwards, just once. "Even for you."
Kame remembers a time when Jin would poke the dark circles under his eyes and sing, "Ku~ma," his face lighting up with glee. Now the soft smile Jin gives him says all of it, and more.
"Yeah...thanks."
"And if you want to take a shower first, there's towels and shampoo and stuff. Help yourself."
Kame smiles gratefully. Jin's well-aware the first thing he wants to do any time he travels is wash away the invisible layer of grime a plane deposits on his skin. 'Plane scum,' he calls it, and Jin would always laugh at the way just saying it made his nose scrunch up in disgust.
It still does. He feels disgusting, and Jin's offer of a shower sounds heavenly. "Thanks," he says again.
It's settling, in a way. It reminds Kame that this isn't the first time they've crossed oceans to see each other. Obviously the circumstances could be better this time, but... Kame gives himself a little shake before he can pursue that particular train of thought much farther. He's glad he's here, and that's all there is to it. He takes his bag with him into the bathroom, switches on the lights and the fan, and shuts the door.
By the time he emerges, wrapped up in one of the hotel's terrycloth bathrobes and the ends of his hair still dripping around his shoulders, Jin has the foldout bed pulled out for him. He promptly flops down onto it, not even bothering to change into pajamas or dry his hair. For a while, he hears Jin moving about the suite, but soon the edges of his mind go fuzzy, and he slips into deep, exhausted sleep.
~*~*~*~
The next time Kame stirs, there's bright sunlight streaming into the room; he can see it even behind his closed eyelids. That throws him. He's not used to waking up in morning sunlight. Unless it's not actually morning, but afternoon. His manager will have his hide if he's somehow managed to sleep the day away.
Somewhere off to his left, he hears movement-a jangling of keys, the turn of a door handle. It brings him back. He's not in his apartment. He's in a hotel suite in Budapest. Jin's hotel suite. He flew all the way to Hungary yesterday, and now he's on a lumpy pullout bed, wrapped up in a bathrobe and a cocoon of sheets.
His bones pop as he goes to sit up. He feels stiff and sore all over, whether from the plane ride or deep sleep, he's not sure. He can only imagine what he must look like. His five-o'-clock shadow has grown into soft fuzz overnight, and he doesn't need a mirror to know that going to bed with wet hair has given him cowlicks. He reaches up, and sure enough, his wavy locks curl into knots around his fingers. Lovely. What his fans would think if they could see him now-perfect idol Kamenashi Kazuya with stubble and bedhead. It might make minor headlines at home. Kame is very glad he's nowhere near home. Here there's only Jin, who couldn't care less what he looks like and probably never has.
Or so Kame thinks. He hears a snort that sounds suspiciously like laughter. He blinks against the blinding sunlight to glare in the sound's direction. Eventually the fuzziness fades from his vision, and he focuses on Jin standing in the doorway, seemingly already dressed and ready for work. It's weird in itself for Jin to be up and out the door before Kame, but everything about this situation is weird. It doesn't feel real, being here, waking up in a hotel room in a distant European country paid for by a Hollywood film studio. It's like he's left the real world behind, like none of the events of the past 72 hours have actually taken place. How must Jin have felt, being here all alone when halfway around the world the earth shifted.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Jin says, sounding far too cheerful for any time before noon, laughter still in his voice. He must have had his coffee already. "Sleep well?"
Abruptly snapped out of his thoughts, Kame hesitates to answer. It's too early and he's too groggy to think.; he flops back down onto his pillow with a muffled groan. Everything hurts.
"I've gotta go, but, uh...make yourself at home, I guess? I got you a second key, so you can head out and do some sightseeing if you want. Or, you know, whatever. Whatever you want. I'll be back later. ...Ciao."
Kame lifts his hand in a lazy wave and curls up to his pillow once the door shuts, smiling against the fabric. Jin makes it so easy to feel like he's just on vacation, that this isn't something bigger or more unsettling. It helps. Kame's not sure what he'll end up doing, but the idea that he can set his own schedule and do what he wants is great.
Before he can even entertain the idea of getting up, though, his eyelids start to feel heavy again, and it's pure bliss to let them fall closed. Maybe he'll sleep just a little while longer.
~*~*~*~
The sunlight doesn't blind him the next time he opens his eyes. It's still light outside, but the sun must definitely be in the latter half of its trek across the sky, if its rays aren't streaming through the windows and straight into his eyes. Kame sits up, stretches again, and the fog around the edges of his consciousness has mostly faded. He feels human again.
Jin isn't back yet, but Kame takes the man at his word and makes himself at home. He finds the key to Jin's earlier chipperness in the form of a coffeepot on the kitchen counter. He sets another pot to brew and heads into the bathroom to shower again.
When he gets out, he shaves and promptly blow-dries his hair, feeling fresher and more awake for the effort. Coffee helps, too. He and Jin both prefer their roasts dark and full-bodied, and the blend Jin has on hand doesn't disappoint. Kame takes his mug to the sliding glass door leading onto the balcony and admires the view. Jin's suggestion to go sightseeing was a good one: the Budapest skyline along the river is as beautiful as the city lights out the plane window had promised. Kame's DSLR is in his duffel. He could get some amazing shots. Something holds him back, though. Leaving the hotel to go explore the city feels like it would take a lot of effort-energy he doesn't feel he has yet. For one thing, he's famished. His stomach quickly starts protesting its lack of anything but strong black coffee.
Kame doesn't put much faith in Jin's fridge, seeing as he's terrible about stocking it even when he's home and not filming a Hollywood blockbuster. Kame tries his luck anyway. As expected, the shelves are mostly bare, and Kame has to register his amazement that anything edible can fit amongst the bottles of liquor (mostly vodka) crammed in the freezer. He pulls out a plastic bag of what appears to be leftover fried rice and hopes Jin hadn't been planning on eating it any time soon as he dumps it on a plate and sticks it in the microwave.
While the rice defrosts, Kame raids the cabinets, happy to stuff his face with potato chips for the three minutes he has to sit and watch his plate turn in the microwave. He'll have to make it up to Jin for eating him out of house and home (not home, Kame reminds himself, hotel) by going shopping for him or offering to split for room service the rest of the time he's here, or something. Whatever he does, it'll be a task for a different day. The microwave dings, and he settles in to eat.
When he's finished, Kame washes his dishes and switches on the TV. Watching movies is something he enjoys but rarely has time to do at home. He scrolls through the catalog, ready to order some American action flick with a plot easy enough to follow even without subtitles, but he hesitates. The charge will be posted to Jin's room. If the timestamp appears on the bill, it might be noticed that someone was ordering movies while Jin was supposed to be out filming, and that could cause Jin a lot of unnecessary trouble. Kame thinks about things like this. The last thing he wants to do is cause any trouble, so he settles for the local cable, if only for background noise, because of course, all the programming is in Hungarian.
Putzing around the hotel room makes Kame feel more like a freeloader than ever; the least he can do is make himself useful while Jin's out. He'd noticed the kitchen was in need of a good clean, as was the bathroom. He might not be able to do much about Jin's laundry, not knowing where the laundry services were and not particularly keen on searching the building to find them, but he could at least pile it out of the way. And maybe sort it. Rolling up his sleeves, Kame finds some cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink and gets to work.
~*~*~*~
Jin gets back not long after Kame finishes. The lemon scent of cleaning products still lingers in the air, and Kame sees Jin's nose scrunch up from where he's sprawled on the pullout.
"Were you cleaning?" Jin asks, as though he finds the very idea revolting.
"Maybe?" Kame offers, pushing up on his elbows to address Jin. "I felt like I should at least make myself useful while I'm here."
Jin rolls his eyes, an automatic gesture Kame used to find infuriating. "I go to all the trouble of lying to the front desk to get a second key so you can come and go as you please, and you spend the day cleaning? Don't know if anyone's ever told you, but you're a freak, Kazu."
Kame can't help but laugh a little at the gentle insult. It makes it easier for him to admit, "I'll get out and act like a normal tourist tomorrow. I just kind of felt like lying low today." He doesn't feel like elaborating on that, so he changes the subject. "Was it a lot of trouble to get another key?"
Jin shrugs. It's hard to tell in the low light, but when Jin glances off to the side it looks like he's...blushing?
"Nah. All I had to do was tell them I got drunk, accidentally dropped my key over the balcony railing and needed a new one. But you know I can't lie for shit, so I kind of fucked it up."
Kame nods. He does know that. It's one of those things that makes Jin a great musician, but a terrible idol. "So what did you say?"
Jin takes his lower lip between his teeth. "I told them I threw it from the balcony. With a cry. Don't know what I was thinking..."
While Kame laughs, clapping and kicking his legs in mirth, Jin gets himself a beer (one of the few items left in the fridge). "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, asshole. Now you've got it, you better use the thing. I don't want to come back here tomorrow to find you've spent the whole day moping around again."
Jin's talking shit and acting tough, trying to save face. He doesn't realize how closely his words hit the mark. Kame smiles and says, more seriously, "I will. I kind of just needed a day, you know?"
Jin nods. "No, I know. I get that. We all need a day off sometimes. It's just not good if you do it too long. You've gotta get out and live your life. And working doesn't count."
Jin's the only person Kame will take this kind of advice from, because Jin knows what he's talking about. Jin's always lived his life that way, and little by little, it seems like the things he wants most out of life are falling into his lap one by one. For better or worse, Kame has always respected him for that.
"Anyway," Jin says suddenly, "I brought you some leftovers. Didn't know if you'd eaten or not."
Kame sits up at the mention of food. The rice feels like it was ages ago. "You didn't have a lot around to eat. Whatever was left I probably devoured today. Sorry about that."
"Don't worry about it. They feed us pretty well on-set, and when they don't, we usually find somewhere to go out. So I haven't had to cook much, or even really go shopping too often."
"Then let me cook for you, or at least do your shopping. It's the least I can--"
Jin just shakes his head. "For god's sake, Kazu, just shut up. Why do you keep saying that? I'm glad you're here." Then Jin drops down beside him on the mattress and all but thrusts a Styrofoam container in his lap, followed by a pair of cheap wooden chopsticks. Jin goes as far as to open the container for him, revealing more of the fried rice he'd found in the freezer, still steaming. Jin breaks the chopsticks, too, making Kame wonder if Jin intends to eat it for him as well. But Jin doesn't, just hands over the chopsticks and says, "Eat."
So Kame does.
It's awkward at first, having Jin there watching him shovel fried rice into his mouth, but in a way it reminds him of when he was 19, working too hard and not eating enough, because nerves and the pressure of performing made him feel like he wouldn't be able to keep anything down. Those days feel like forever ago; they've both come a long way since then, but it's nice to have little reminders that some things haven't changed, such as Jin's firm voice telling him to eat. Also Jin picking out the best parts of his meal to eat himself. It didn't particularly bother Kame then, and it still doesn't bother him now. A couple of times, he even gives Jin the chopsticks to use, and between the two of them, it doesn't take long to finish off the rice.
Jin slumps against the back of the sofa while Kame sets the empty container on the end table, and Jin says, "That was good," like the food had been for him all along. It's one of those things Kame can't fault Jin for and never has. Jin's just Jin, and for every annoying quirk or bad trait he has, he makes up for it in spades with his kindness and sincerity. How can Kame get mad at him for taking a few bites of fried rice when it was Jin who'd thought to bring it back in the first place?
Their entire relationship's been like this, in a way. Over the years they've learned to take the bad with the good when it comes to each other, and maybe they needed the long years of alternatively being at each other's throats, ignoring each other's existences, and tentatively, cautiously coming together again to make amends in order to reach the level of friendship and understanding that they have now. Kame might feel like a stranger in Jin's hotel suite, but he's there for a reason, a reason that's becoming clearer to him the more time he spends with Jin.
Jin nudges his shoulder again suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Looked like you were somewhere else," Jin observes, and Kame thinks Jin, again, isn't too far off the mark.
"Hey, Kazu," comes Jin's voice again, "you want a beer or something? You look kinda out of it."
Beer sounds wonderful, the exact thing Kame needs to chase his thoughts away. "Yeah, a beer would be great," he says, and Jin gets up to get one for him.
They end up watching a pay-per-view movie after all-some action flick Kame's already seen, so he doesn't need a running commentary from Jin to understand what's going on. It's a good one (or else he wouldn't have agreed to watch it again), but Kame still finds himself getting drowsy about two-thirds of the way through. He's not sure whether it's jet lag or the alcohol. All he knows is that Jin's shoulder looks like a more attractive pillow every time his eyes slip shut and he feels himself start to slip away. He catches himself the first few times he starts to nod off, forcing his eyes open and sitting up straight, but eventually he gives in. He lets his head drop, and he's already too far gone to feel Jin's arm slip around his shoulders.
Jin doesn't do anything more, just finishes both his beer and the movie before laying Kame flat on the mattress and heading to bed himself. He shuts off the living room lights on his way, bathing Kame's sleeping figure in pale blue shadows.
~*~*~*~
When Kame wakes, it's to pitch darkness and the overwhelming sense that the room is shaking. His body goes rigid with fear, and he clutches at the sheets, feeling his heart thud hard and uneven against his ribcage. Rolling anxiety clutches his stomach, his only thoughts, 'How long will it last?' and, 'How big will it get?', because the big one had started out small. It had been nothing more than a gentle rocking at first, like riding in a car, but it had grown quickly to the point where Kame'd had to fight to stay on his feet. For a long time afterwards he hadn't been able to tell if the ground was still shaking or if it was just his legs. It had been the most terrifying three minutes of his life.
And four days later, it's happening again. Halfway around the world, in Budapest. Kame wants to cry out, partially at the unfairness of it all, but mostly in fear. Budapest doesn't look like a city built to withstand major earthquakes. The thought that the bricks and mortar could collapse around them at any second makes Kame long for Tokyo and its walls of steel-reinforced concrete. But even the most prepared country in the world is still vulnerable. March 11th shattered his illusions of security, making Kame realize, perhaps for the first time, that nowhere is ever truly safe.
He should wake Jin. If Budapest and the hotel are susceptible to earthquakes, they could both be in danger. But the moment Kame swings his legs over the bed and rests his bare feet on the carpet, the shaking stops. Kame feels his stomach unclench, but it takes much longer for his heart to cease its frantic, sickening thudding and return to normal. Cold sweat beads on Kame's neck. The room had never been shaking. He'd imagined the whole thing.
"Fuck," he curses in the darkness, clutching at the ends of his hair damp with sweat. He knows that what just came over him is different from either a nightmare or a panic attack. There's a word for it in Japanese, though Kame had only heard it for the first time a few days ago. Jishinyoi. Earthquake sickness. A layman's term, a culturally acceptable way of saying 'post-traumatic stress disorder'. Kame has it, and somehow the thought that his brain can unconsciously take him back to that moment and relive it freaks him out more than the idea of the walls coming down around him.
He hadn't been running away, per se, but he had wanted to put some distance between himself and Japan, to calm himself down. He only has a few days before his work obligations will resume-a few days before he has to appear on national television for Going! Sports and News and comment on the segment he'd shot on location the week before.
A week ago. Before plates shifted and shook their entire world. Does the network expect him, Ueda-san, and everyone else to pretend like nothing has happened, for the sake of maintaining continuity? If that's the case, Kame doesn't know if he can do it. His internal switch that allows him to separate work from his personal life is damaged, and he'd hoped that getting away for a few days would give him the rest and the perspective necessary to fix it.
But apparently not. He experienced the disaster firsthand, like everyone else, and it's part of him now. It's etched into the cultural fabric, and they might never be able to go back to life before one of the five largest earthquakes in the past century had struck off the coast of Sendai (or so NHK had reported). He bears the same deep rents that everyone in Japan does, but the difference between them and him is that he's Kamenashi Kazuya. They don't have an idol persona to maintain. The last thing Kame wants is to let those rents surface in the face he presents to his co-workers, the fans, and the world, but he has no idea how to stop them from showing.
Before he can figure out anything, first he needs to calm the fuck down. He fights his way free of the covers and paces, taking deep breaths to try and relax his still nervous, fluttering heartbeat. His tongue feels thick and heavy in his mouth, and his stomach, still rolling and clenching with fear, makes him vaguely nauseous. Water. He needs water.
He gets a glass from one of the cupboards, fills it in the sink and downs it, gasping as he sets it back on the counter. He swallows a few times, grips at the edge of the counter, and tries to will himself to feel better.
Nerves. Kame's always had them worse than others, and being an idol, striving constantly for perfection, hasn't exactly helped that. This is pretty bad as far as anxiety attacks go. He can't get control of himself. He can't stop his mind from reliving the paralyzing fear of that day, and it has his body in its clutches. He wonders if it'll ever get better, or if he'll always carry this fear around with him. There's no way of knowing, and that scares him, too.
He doesn't realize he's woken Jin up until he feels eyes on him, and he looks up to see Jin watching from the doorway that separates the living room from the bedroom.
"Kazu, are you okay? What's wrong?"
Kame hears the concern in Jin's voice, and fuck, the last thing he wants to do is make Jin worry about him. Not about this. This is nothing. He'll calm down and eventually be able to get back to sleep, maybe after a strong drink. He just needs a bit longer to himself to push his irrational thoughts to the back of his mind and recompose himself.
"It's nothing," he stammers out, but tightens his grip on the counter. He feels like he's in free-fall, like the world's tilting away beneath his feet and at any moment he's going to start sliding forward into...
"The hell it is," Jin snaps, and Kame's head snaps up to look at him. "Something's been up with you since you got here, so why don't you just tell me what it is?"
"I've been through hell, Jin!" Kame fires back. He doesn't mean to snap. It's not even something he should say. He's had it easy compared to other people, up in Sendai, Miyagi, and Fukushima, who really have seen hell rising up before their eyes. Not him. His own grandparents, up in Tochigi prefecture... His parents finally managed to reach them on the phone, and they're fine, but they're still experiencing aftershocks upwards of magnitude 5 every day, and no one knows what condition the roads are in up there, or else Kame's father would have evacuated them to Edogawa by now.
Kame chokes, and his chest starts heaving with sobs. He doesn't know how long he's been on the verge of tears, but they're overflowing now, and he doesn't even try to stop them. He just raises his hands to his face, so Jin doesn't have to see him lose it completely.
Jin's large hands grip his shoulders to turn him around, and then strong arms wrap around him. He takes the offered shoulder, pressing his face to the collar of Jin's T-shirt. For a long time, Jin doesn't say anything, just keeps Kame in a tight embrace until his sobs eventually start to subside.
Even after Kame pulls away, wiping away the remnants of his tears with the heels of his palms, the only thing Jin says is, "You want a smoke?"
Kame hasn't had a cigarette since the smoking lounge at Narita. He hadn't so much as dared venture out onto the balcony for fear of drawing unnecessary attention to himself (the last thing any of them need is an 'Akakame spotting at the Budapest Four Seasons' to appear on some staff member's blog), but now that Jin's offering, he needs one. Nicotine might be the only thing that can stop him from feeling so goddamned dizzy.
Kame nods, following Jin back towards the bedroom. He barely manages to avoid getting a face full of sweatshirt when Jin tosses one to him, and he gratefully puts it on. He hadn't thought of nights hovering just above freezing when he'd packed. Kame grabs his cigarettes and then his thin coat, merely to have another layer of protection against the cold, and watches in shaky, silent amusement as Jin tries to free the comforter from the bed. It might be overkill to take heavy blankets out onto the balcony just to have a smoke, except he knows just how vulnerable Jin is to the winter chill and persistent viruses.
Kame can't say he's ungrateful for it, either, when Jin wraps the thick fabric under and around both of them, so they can sit somewhat comfortably on the concrete outside. Jin sets an ashtray down before them, and Kame scoots a little closer. Between the shared body heat and thick layers insulating them from the elements, the late night chill doesn't have a way to seep in.
Jin offers him a light, and the first drag on the end of the filter feels heavenly. Kame closes his eyes and exhales, letting the tension he's been holding onto drift away with the cooling smoke. Jin lights up beside him, and Kame feels Jin relax where they're pressed together at the shoulder.
Neither of them speak for a long time, but the silence isn't uncomfortable. Kame prefers the repetitive motion of bringing a cigarette to his lips to any conversation they could be having. It gives him time to clear his overworked mind, and the nicotine certainly helps.
They smoke their cigarettes down to the filters, and Jin lights up another before he speaks. "Kazu, are you really okay?" he asks.
Kame cringes. Jin always gets straight to the point. "I don't know," he answers honestly. He puts out his spent cigarette in the ashtray and reaches for another. "I've never been so scared in my entire life, and I can't shake it... who the hell knows what's going to happen now? It's like a nightmare made real."
"It's okay if you're not okay, you know. No one expects you to be, after what happened. It's affected all of us, and you're human, not a fucking robot. If they're expecting you to act like everything's fine when it's not, then fuck it, and fuck them. They're not worth it."
Kame hums in acknowledgement and flicks his ashes into the ashtray, shoulders hunched over in thought.
"And you don't have to tell me it's been like a nightmare," Jin continues, and Kame can't tell if it's bitterness or something else he's hearing in Jin's voice. "It's been hell here too, not knowing what's going on over there. I don't understand why we even have to show up for filming when it's obvious everyone's just sitting around worrying. You know some people still don't even know if their families are okay? And me, the only reason I know people are okay is because everyone I want to know about has me on Skype. But fuck, I feel so helpless here, cooped up at work or in this room glued to my phone and computer. It sucks knowing there's nothing I can do short of flying home, and what good would that even do? My being home won't change what happened. So I'm stuck here, and every moment of it has been absolute fucking hell."
Kame doesn't say anything, just listens as Jin vents his feelings. It's hard to figure out just what to say to that, anyway.
"So it's a good thing you're here," Jin says after a moment's pause. "I was starting to go crazy being here by myself."
Jin looks away to flick some dangling ashes into the ashtray, and Kame takes advantage of Jin's distraction to lay his head on Jin's shoulder. "I felt the same way. It felt like the fear was about to swallow me whole. So I got out." Kame reaches across to put out his cigarette, and he closes his eyes. A moment later, he feels Jin's arm slip around his shoulders in that way that's always felt natural to them. Even now, being with Jin makes Kame forget there's another world exists beyond the two of them. It's what he needs sometimes, and he's pretty sure it's the same for Jin.
Kame hears Jin's quiet murmur -- "I'm glad you came," -- before they both go quiet, staring out at the stars and the calm, inky water of the Danube below.
They don't move until the cold finally starts to permeate their shell of blankets, and Kame feels Jin start shivering next to him.
"Think you can sleep now?" Jin asks, and Kame thinks he would have been able to fall asleep right there against Jin's shoulder had it been just a little bit warmer. As it's only mid-March, they'd probably do well to get back inside, before Jin gets sick.
"Yeah," Kame answers sleepily, and the two of them shuffle back inside, still wrapped in their blanket cocoon. While Kame sheds his outer layers, Jin tosses the comforter back on the bed and kicks the thermostat up. Kame isn't nearly as surprised as he thinks he should be when Jin wordlessly climbs onto the pullout bed with him. Jin doesn't curl close or throw an arm over Kame's waist like he might have done in the past, but somehow just having Jin close by helps Kame relax. He soon drifts into a dreamless sleep, lulled by the gentle puffs of Jin's steady breathing.
Part 2