One-shot: Hide and Seek
Title: Hide and seek
Pairing: Ryo, Ueda
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: (temporarily) blind Ryo, !AU
Summary: Ueda hires Ryo to help him with a few songs on his album. When Ryo shows up, he is unable to see. Will Ueda still work with him? Will Ryo be able to deal while he waits things out?
Notes: 8906 words, written for prompt no. 15 of Ryoda-thon. I just didn't have the heart to make Ryo full out blind. I hope I'll be forgiven.
Ryo hears laughter. It is deep, rumbling and completely different than he imagined when listening to the sample of the piano song that his company's manager reluctantly handed over to him couple of days ago. There seems to be no one else in the room but the person laughing, and he seems to be talking on the phone while Ryo and the manager just stand there. Ryo would like to know how the place looks like. How the person laughing this loudly looks like. He clears his throat, and the manager nudges him. Right, Ryo should be polite, very polite and apologetic and open and accommodating─kissing people's asses, if he really wants this job.
“I'm sorry I left you waiting,” the voice says, not as deep but still very prominent, and Ryo guesses the person turned around to face them. He bites his lip.
There's a moment of silence in which he can hear and feel the manager step forward.
“Uhm,” the other man in the room says.
“As I said, there are certain circumstances,” the manager says after a moment.
“I can play the guitar and make music just as fine as anyone who can see. Probably better than most of those who can see,” Ryo says, and he knows he sounds rough and unapologetic. Anything but how he should sound.
“You are blind,” the man half-asks, half-states.
“Temporarily,” the manager says quickly.
For a moment, Ryo kind of toys with the idea of denying that. He feels like it has been forever, and that it will be forever, and what does it matter? Let him think what he wants. It does not change a thing. He remembers where guitar chords are perfectly.
“I'm Nishikido Ryo,” he says, stepping forward, “and I will make your music into the best out there,” he adds.
The man touches his shoulder, and Ryo realizes he must be standing more to the right than he thought he did. He jerks away, but the man only grabs his other shoulder and squeezes it.
“I'm Ueda Tatsuya, and I'm looking forward to you trying.”
Ryo hears the manager let out a deep exhale into the silence that spreads between them. That jerk, he really could be more professional.
“Where can I sit?” Ryo asks when the manager leaves, promising that someone will come pick Ryo up in the evening.
“Here,” Ueda says, and Ryo turns where he thinks the voice has moved. Then Ueda grabs his elbow, pulls and pushes him down, and Ryo lands on a chair that suddenly spins. The man hovers over him-Ryo can feel him close by, but says nothing.
“You must have offered them a good deal, or they would not be willing to play my personal nanny every day,” Ryo says, and realizes he did not even asks how much he'd be paid if he took the job.
“How long . . .” Ueda starts instead of a reply, but Ryo cuts him off.
“I don't know. As I said, it doesn't matter.”
“No, I meant how long have you been . . . are you unable to see?” Ueda finishes.
Ryo reaches up and finds the zipper of his guitar case, opening it slowly. Only when the guitar is in his lap and he fingers through the strings, making sure they are there, he considers the reply. His guitar is the only thing that does not constantly move, the only stable thing he does not crush into or has to look for all the time. It calms his nerves-on edge from the moment he stepped into an unknown room.
“A while,” Ryo finally answers.
He doesn't see Ueda giving him a searching look, doesn't see him nod.
“The release date is set three months from now. I want your input on about four songs,” Ueda says after a moment. Ryo hears a click, and then the sound of C played on piano resounds in the room.
+
Ryo is tired when he comes home. The manager leaves the moment the key turns in his door, and Ryo manages to remember his shoe stand, his book shelf and his lamp standing in the hallway. He forgets about the drawer right behind his bedroom door but deems one and only crash on his way to the bathroom a success.
He sent his sister back to her family after a week out of the hospital, and he has been managing by himself ever since then. Of course, he has hired someone to go and do one big shopping a week for him, to clean his mess and wash his clothes. He orders in a lot, and in case of unexpected need he hunts one of his friends down, but he can't stand to be led by the hand like a child and to hang on to someone all the time. He couldn't stand just sitting in his apartment all the time either, waiting, playing guitar until his fingers, even though they are used to playing, hurt too much. He needed to do something, to work, to not think about himself. Ueda Tatsuya probably wanted him badly enough for his agency to actually consider it.
As he collapses into his bed, he tells himself that he can do this. His head hurts from a long day of concentrating on sounds, moves, music, on remembering, on not forgetting what he has already memorized and memorizing new patterns, new music and new environment. He can do this.
+
Ueda pours Ryo a glass of water the second day they spend together. Just like that, out of the blue. He pushes it into Ryo's hand and seems to sit somewhere close, away from the piano.
Ryo looks up then hangs his head because, well, it's not like he can see from behind his black patch, covering both of his eyes. There's that silence again. Ueda doesn't speak much, and Ryo hasn't heard him laugh once after that phone call.
“What do you want to know?” he sighs, pained. He doesn't like to tell the story, but this man didn't shut the door in his face yesterday. And he could have. He could have also laughed in his face, mock him because who would want to work with someone who is temporarily unable to do half of the stuff, and Ryo wouldn't have even seen it.
“Stop angsting all by yourself,” Ueda suddenly chuckles, and there is a small hint of that deep rumble in his voice.
“I'm not angsting,” Ryo says flatly.
Ueda gets up, grabs the cup from Ryo, and it clinks as it is set down somewhere. There should be a small table by the chair Ryo sits on.
“I could not see your lips from the way you pulled them together. And your eyebrows were furrowed,” Ueda says and hits a random key on his piano. “Ready?”
+
Ryo comes home and gobbles on the take out he begged the manager to pick up on the way home. Fried rice soothes his stomach, and he collapses on a couch that he crushes into on his way to the bedroom, forgetting that it's there when he heads out from the kitchen instead of a hallway. It will do for the night.
+
“We forgot to eat some lunch yesterday,” Ueda says when they are stuck in the middle of a song, Ryo getting frustrated every time Ueda says no to his suggestion.
“No,” Ryo says shortly, his fingers gripping the guitar handle tighter.
“But I'm starving. I bet you are hungry too. What do you like?” Ueda asks, and Ryo feels him moving around the room.
“I said no,” Ryo says, voice raising. “Just get me something to drink,” he adds, upset but keeping his voice level at check.
Ueda comes back with a bottle that has tea in it, not water, and Ryo gulps it all down. Only much later he realizes he didn't say please or thank you and that Ueda probably let it go.
They don't eat anything for lunch. Ueda calls it a day much sooner than he said he would. Ryo realizes he must have called Ryo's company beforehand when he went out because the person driving him is there already.
Ryo can't wait to get home to the other box of take out he has shrewdly ordered the day before.
+
“You know, you creep me out. Aren't you supposed to debut soon? Aren't you already popular and have a fan base? Shouldn't you talk more? Your concerts will be painful if you just stay silent all the time,” Ryo says the next day when Ueda sits him down onto the couch and just moves around the room without saying anything. Ryo then hears him coming closer and presumably sitting down, but he says nothing again.
Ryo wonders if Ueda stares. “Is something on my face?” He runs his hand across his mouth. “Rice from breakfast? Or toothpaste?” Both has happened before, and Jin has laughed really hard. Ryo's been much careful ever since then.
“There's nothing,” Ueda says quickly, grabbing Ryo's wrist and pulling it down. Ryo is just as startled as the first day when Ueda grabbed him freely.
“So what else do you know about me? Have you . . . heard of me before you took the job?” he asks, as if choosing his words.
“I was just handed the few songs you had sent and was told the basic background of the project. So, no. Too much piano for my taste,” Ryo says and Ueda laughs shortly.
“That is why you are here,” then Ueda sighs and sets to explain for the first time, “I like my sound, but I don't want to get repetitive. It is good to have a style, be recognizable, but I want to add a different twist to few of my songs. But I still don't want too many instruments, I want it simple-to feel acoustic. I heard you were good at it, so I─”
“Am I not?” Ryo cuts him off again.
“That's not what I said,” Ueda says sharply. “I'm just explaining why I chose you,” he says almost hurt.
“I didn't ask you to,” Ryo grumbles. He did want to know though.
“Yes, but you get upset when I don't like some suggestion of yours, and then you draw back, and it's not the same anymore. I trust you, but I want you to stop being so . . . to just work with me. It's a process. I like it, but I want this to be the best music out there,” Ueda finishes quickly, returning Ryo's words to him.
“I get that.”
+
Ueda keeps scheduling their meetings for half a day only for the next week. Ryo is getting really upset about it. He tries to listen more to Ueda's sound, to his reasons, to his images, but every time he feels he is there, they have to stop. Plus the managers keep telling him it's bothersome to find someone to get him in the middle of the day and that it will take much longer like this.
The second part, Ryo does not mind. He still thinks about the songs, works on them in his head when he comes home and he almost forgets his next medical check up, thinking about his problems only when he can't find things his cleaning/shopping services put on a wrong spot, or when he crushes into the furniture they moved. Or when Ueda moves him around the studio, making him sit elsewhere or brings him a drink or puts his headphones on for him when Ryo's leaving and he can't tell which one is left and which one is right.
+
“You either drive me home today, or I am staying all day,” Ryo announces the next day, right there in front of the secretary driving him that morning.
“You don't have to worry about Nishikido-kun's transport tonight,” Ueda says curtly and pulls Ryo into a new direction. “We are not in the studio today,” he says as he slowly walks him down the seemingly long hall.
“Oh,” is all Ryo says.
“But before we start,” Ueda says as he makes Ryo sink into what feels like a duffel bag chair and sits next to him, knees touching. “I have one condition.”
“What is it?” Ryo sighs, runs his hand over his face and his hair. He hears Ueda taking a deep breath. He might have tried to cover it, but Ryo's ears are much better now.
“You either eat something during the day, or I am driving you home at lunch. We are stopping on our way and getting some take out for you to eat unless there's someone at home waiting for your with cooked food. I guess that is what you do when you leave every day?”
Ryo bites his lip and stays silent. This time he is glad there is no chance he could even meet Ueda's eyes.
“You have to stop being so insecure around me. I get it; it's hard and frustrating, but you have to try and let me in, or this will never work.”
“I'm not insecure. And you can't possibly get it,” Ryo shouts, hands clasped around the sides of his chair. Ueda just puts his hand on Ryo's knee.
“Stop touching me, stop acting like you understand! Stop pitying me! It's embarrassing, it's unnerving, but you have no clue! How dare you,” Ryo tries to stand up, but Ueda stops him by grabbing both of his shoulders again and pushing him back into sitting.
“I'm sorry,” he says, voice low. He slides his hands down Ryo's shoulders and wraps his fingers around his wrists, leading them forward.
“Please. I'm sorry,” Ueda says again, and Ryo's hands land on top of Ueda's head, in his hair, all of it much lower than it should be and close to Ryo. Ueda is bowing down.
The anger slowly dissolves. All that stays is the warmth where Ueda has touched him. Firmly but with care, not like a doctor or his friends when they lead him somewhere. It felt soothing, human, without agenda. Fingers of Ryo's left hand unconsciously curl in Ueda's hair while his right hand slides down to Ueda's shoulder and just squeezes. Ueda stays silent, stays like that until Ryo finally lets go.
“If you laugh at me, I will hunt you down the moment I can see again,” Ryo says. “And I want some real meat today,” he adds. He might as well show Ueda what it means when a person eats blindly.
Ueda grabs his hand and presses it against his lips. They seem oddly plush, but they part and curl. Ryo gets it; Ueda is smiling. It would be weird if he said so. Ryo smiles too.
“Also, I'm not insecure. I'm actually a very confident and perfectly cool man.”
This time Ueda laughs out loud. That deep, rich laughter that will always be his trademark in Ryo's head. Ryo is kind of sorry he can't imagine how it looks like. Suddenly he wants to touch Ueda's face again, to know whether his eyes crinkle, whether he has dimples, how far can his mouth stretch into a smile like that. Instead, he grabs at the chair fabric again and tries to drown that want in the sound of Ueda's laughter.
+
Since then, Ueda always orders food for them, slowly forcing all of Ryo's favorite food out of him. They also stop going into the studio. Ueda says they will start recording only after he is content enough that they know what they are doing. He thinks it will go smoothly and quickly then. The other room has a couch, those low duffel bag chairs and a piano, but Ryo finds it easier to navigate around there, so he doesn't protest. Sometimes he even wonders if maybe that is why they are there in the first place. Only when Ueda still isn't hurried after a month, he gets impatient.
“If you are waiting for me to see, you should just get someone else,” Ryo says one day and the silence that follows shocks him. He can't even hear Ueda breathe, and he has been good at hearing that, at recognizing where Ueda is, even how he reacts, almost what his mood is by that alone. It probably means he is right.
“I think we should stop for today,” Ueda says coldly after another moment.
What? “We just started,” Ryo says, hoping Ueda would give his reaction away eventually.
“I know, but I just realized I need to take a step back and look at the music alone before we, I, continue,” Ueda replies, voice even, almost robotic. He takes Ryo's guitar from him, and Ryo hears him putting it back into the case.
“Are you mad because I said what you are thinking?” Ryo asks. That Ueda is upset becomes very clear.
Ueda leaves the room and when he comes back, he takes a deep breath.
“Let's go. I'll take you home, no one else has time.”
Ueda doesn't go with Ryo all the way up to his door the way he's been doing it since he had started driving Ryo home. He says good bye, but doesn't tell Ryo when they should meet tomorrow, and Ryo hears him drive away the moment the car door is shut behind him.
Drama queen, Ryo thinks. But he kind of wishes he stayed quiet.
+
Ryo has another check up the next day, so he doesn't go to see Ueda at all. When back home, Jin takes out the beers they picked up on the way and flops onto the couch next to Ryo.
“I'd say we should watch some movie and drink all night to celebrate, but you might still be a bit too near sighted for that,” he giggles and nudges Ryo.
“Not funny,” Ryo says, resisting the urge to take off his huge black glasses and rub his eyes. The heavy veil won't disappear just like that.
“Why are you sulking? This is great, isn't it? Just a few more weeks, and you'll be back in shape.”
“I need you to drive me somewhere tomorrow,” Ryo says instead. Jin stays silent. Ryo knows he is probably smirking and plotting but there's nothing to be done.
+
“Good morning,” Jin says with curiosity as they enter the studio.
Ryo hears the piano chair spin, and then he hears it topple over as someone rushes to them. He can feel one deep familiar exhale on his face, and he sees a shadow right in front of him. He really wants to see more, but straining his eyes just makes them hurt. In the same moment, he realizes that this room is much darker than the rest they went through, the shadow much deeper and burning his eyes much less. He wonders if it has always been like that.
“You . . . Can you see?” Ueda finally asks and takes a step back.
“Not really,” Jin answers instead of him and pats Ryo's shoulder. “But getting there.”
“I can talk,” Ryo points out.
“Yeah, and you are as pleasant as ever,” Jin says then introduces himself. Ryo knows he is snooping around the place, but Jin's phone rings and he ends up leaving without doing much more damage. Ryo places his guitar in front of himself and bows his head a little.
“I didn't want to upset you the last time. I'm sorry. Can we continue now?”
Ueda hums low in his throat. “I was unprofessional too. This is a job, and I should treat it just like that. I can't ask for more than professional confidence. So, I am sorry too. Please sit down,” he adds and leads Ryo to one of the chairs. He still sounds distant, and Ryo won't have any of it, still remembering how Ueda rushed to him when they came in just minutes ago. How he seemed to care.
“Oh, snap out of it,” he says but doesn't know how to continue. Asking what he did wrong is not an option.
Ueda only comes closer again and suddenly Ryo feels a finger swiping over his forehead right above the glasses' frame.
“I will tell you, but you have to stop sulking then,” Ryo sighs, kind of guessing what Ueda would ask for next.
Ueda stays quiet, and Ryo has to swat at his hand again.
“It's stupid really,” he begins into the silence, sensing, kind of seeing, Ueda on a chair opposite of him. He is to tell the story, but he doesn't have to go into details. It really is just a string of clumsiness, bad luck and the worse of the possible healing scenarios.
Ryo fell on some stupid stairs over two months ago. He hit his head and something in both of his eyes snapped too, but they found out quite late because they thought he can't see due to a small swelling near his brain. That went away without complications, but in the mean time the eyes needed a surgery. Some kind of infection got added to the mix, and it has been dragging on.
“But this is progress, right?” Ueda says, finally speaking in this low voice, and Ryo wonders how badly he wanted to know. He never really asked, now that Ryo thinks about it.
“I guess. But I can't see much, and light is driving me crazy so if you still want to wait for it-”
“You are such an asshole,” Ueda cuts him off with words and a hand on his mouth too. “I agreed to work with you, and I am not waiting for you to see again. I've seen you record before. I know it will go well if we have the songs down beforehand, and I don't like long recordings. Stop suspecting me of the worst!”
Ryo can feel how quickly the other is breathing, the sweaty palm against his mouth shaking a little.
“I'm just thinking the logical thing,” Ryo mumbles into Ueda's hand at the end and surprises himself with how soft it sounds. He grabs Ueda's palm, slides his fingers down his wrist and pulls it away, dragging his fingers the rest of the way to Ueda's shoulder.. He just wants to ruffle his hair but gets distracted by the skin on Ueda's cheek. He doesn't know why, but he ends up rubbing Ueda's ear. If Ueda was breathing fast before, now it seems he has stopped all together, and Ryo is startled by how charged the space between them becomes.
“I'm sorry,” he mumbles and pulls his hand away. He isn't sure what he is apologizing for.
“So you saw me before. So unfair that I don't remember. I wish I could add a face to your name too,” he laughs awkwardly when Ueda is still not saying anything.
“That sounds like you are adding me to your phone contacts,” Ueda says then, and it sounds much lighter. Almost like they are okay.
“Hey, didn't you say that the place that we order from is nice and dark? Maybe we should go have a lunch there,” Ryo blurts out, and he doesn't know where that came from because he doesn't eat out now. Plus why would anyone want to go to a restaurant with someone who is bound to make a mess and embarrass the rest of the party. He needs to take it back before things get awkward again.
“That'd be great,” Ueda says, and Ryo is kind of happy he is sitting. The surprise knocks the air out of him.
He wants to know how Ueda looks like right now, what he thinks, and if he is smiling. If he is as happy or as confused as Ryo is in that moment. He reaches out, but Ueda has moved a bit further away because he touches nothing. He wanted to find out the same way Ueda let him know the last time.
Ueda looks at Ryo's hand, but then swiftly turns around and reaches for Ryo's guitar. “Here you go. Let's go over the songs once before we have that lunch.”
+
“Everything is blurry,” Ryo murmurs when he comes home three days later.
“Well that isn't news or is it?” Jin says.
“You jerk,” Ryo shrieks in surprise since Jin has not informed him he would be visiting and sitting in his apartment waiting for him.
“So Ueda's been driving you home, huh?” Jin asks instead. “I brought dinner.”
“I've eaten already,” Ryo says in reply.
“I'll switch your body wash for your toothpaste if you don't tell me what exactly is going between you and Ueda,” Jin laughs.
“What the hell?!”
“He must have it bad, driving you around, taking you out and tolerating your moods,” Jin chirps, whirling around Ryo, until Ryo grabs for him and makes him stop.
“My head is spinning,” he growls at him.
“That bad?” Jin teases. “Do you have sex. Oh that's kinky, like a constant blindfold.”
“You idiot, it is spinning because you won't stop moving and talking nonsense,” Ryo wishes he could aim enough to slap the guy.
“He is kind of cute though,” Jin notes. “And I have more food left for myself like this.”
Ryo is really happy when Jin finally leaves. He is still pretty careful when he washes himself that night. Being covered in toothpaste isn't exactly his dream.
The only reason Ryo decided to work in his condition was so that he could stop being so impatient, could stop thinking of when he'd see again. But right now, this Ueda job is being very contra-productive. All he thinks about is how he wants to see so that he can make sure he looks okay going to work every day, so he can make sure that Jin isn't pulling his leg, so that he can see the finished scores and practice like that-not only by memory . . . Mostly he just wants to see Ueda. Then he might want to stop touching him.
Ueda has developed this habit of touching Ryo when he wants him to understand better. Just a quick tap on the shoulder or a pull in the right direction, his hand on Ryo's knee when he is talking face to face with him. It helps, but Ryo always wants to touch back, return what he is getting even if Ueda doesn't need the extra help. He has done it a couple of times since they started recording because Ueda gets anxious and doesn't like when they are stuck because they should not be anymore. Ryo knows it's just rookies nervousness, but he wants to make it better. But Ueda always holds his breath and shivers when Ryo tries to reach for him, and it just makes Ryo question everything. The trust he tries to build always shutters just a little. Ueda builds it up again and again, with all his gestures, all his help and silent understanding, but at this point, Ryo just needs to see, needs to know, and it is hard to just not run his fingers across Ueda's face to find out if he is frowning or smiling, not to push his palms against Ueda's shoulders to recognize if he is tense or relaxed.
Ryo has a mosaic. There is Ueda's voice, all of its lows and highs, the sound of it when he laughs, smiles, when he is excited, sad, upset or frustrated, all tones and colors of it memorized. There are his moves-swift and firm, his grasp on Ryo-strong and usually sure, his quick step, even his blurry outline that looks thin and about as tall as Ryo. There is his breath and his smell, even the texture of his hair from that one time, his atmosphere. All that is missing for Ryo to have a clear picture in his mind every time he thinks of Ueda are his features. He guesses, but he doesn't know. He wants to know.
Ryo is aware of how much time he spends thinking of this and of Ueda himself. He just hopes this all will stop if he just sees him once. Just like that, Ueda-his best therapy-is becoming his biggest enemy, wearing his patience down.
+
They are both distracted and anxious that day. Ueda snaps when his fingers get tangled in a long piano passage and Ryo grits his teeth when he tries to pat Ueda's hair but misses by what might be meters for all he knows. He should be better at this by now. Ryo growls when suddenly one of his strings snap, and he has to have someone else replace it, changing the balance. Ueda hisses when he knocks over his spinning chair yet again.
“I think you guys need a break,” sound technician says with a sigh, and Ryo and Ueda are left sitting outside of the studio, shoulders slumped identically.
“I just want to see,” Ryo whispers and feels Ueda stiffen next to him.
“Is it not . . .”
“It's better, but mostly because I tolerate the light better. But I am there, on the edge between knowing and guessing, and I am just so impatient. I want to see,” Ryo says it all before realizing how much he is exposing, before thinking about how whiny or weak it may make him sound. For once he forgets to care.
Ueda stands up and grabs his hand. “Let's go.”
+
“Can I come in?” Ueda asks when they get to Ryo's apartment. He has been silent the entire ride here, and Ryo was so tense he didn't even notice they were going to his apartment, completely missing all the signs of it-the sound of crossing the big bridge or the familiar bumps Ueda always hits spot on.
Ryo doesn't really want to be alone with his thoughts. He doesn't want to be alone with Ueda either, but it is the smaller devil so he nods.
“I have no clue how much my cleaning company is slacking off, and I refused to learn how to fold my clothes, so I am sorry if there's a mess.”
They end up on Ryo's couch. Ueda has found the beer Jin left here the last time but there's no TV to turn on, no video game to play and nothing else crosses Ryo's mind as he stares at the blurry outline that Ueda is through his glasses. Ueda gets up then, and Ryo hears him closing the blinds and doors.
“It's almost dark here,” he mutters when he comes back, and Ryo flinches when Ueda takes his glasses away.
“They must look pretty bad. Red or something,”Ryo says defensively, trying to put the glasses back on.
“Just a bit lost,” Ueda mutters. Then, just like that, Ryo feels his fingers on his forehead, slowly moving around his eyebrows to his cheekbones, one finger running down his nose.
“What are you doing?” Ryo asks, but doesn't pull back because Ueda's touch feels almost familiar by now. It makes Ryo lose a bit of tension despite how strange the situation is and leaves him warmer.
“You once said you wanted to see my face. I can't show you the rest of the world, but I can show you my face. Maybe you will be less impatient then,” Ueda says slowly, and Ryo gets it. Somehow Ueda is letting him do just what he has wanted to for a long time now.
He moves before Ueda could guide him even more, his hands shooting up and this time finding Ueda's shoulders with certainty. He takes a deep breath and feels Ueda doing the same. He is not going to ask if this is unpleasant for him because Ueda allowed it, he can deal with that later.
Ryo's fingers move only slowly, both of his hands sliding up Ueda's shoulders, tracing his neck, one hand feeling Ueda's pulse through a thick vein there. It quickens as Ryo moves, and by the time his fingers lose it, it is almost erratic. Ueda seems to have longish hair, tickling Ryo's fingers on their way up, and Ryo strokes them with both hands then leaves the right one on Ueda's cheek while he keeps on weeding the fingers of his left hand through them. Ueda is slightly shivering, and Ryo just wants to calm him.
It doesn't seem right to say anything. Maybe Ueda is trying to hide it, and if Ryo mentions it, he might not be allowed to go any further. Just as Ryo contemplates this, Ueda leans into the hand on his cheek, and Ryo finds his own breath hitching. His thumb slowly rubs a circle into Ueda's skin, fingers inching from Ueda's ear to his temple and over his forehead. He manages to bump into Ueda's eyelashes and they seems long, so Ryo brushes over them again. He knows Ueda closes his eye, and he wonders how he managed to have them open until now. Ryo blinks, but all he continues to see is the round contours of Ueda's head and the blur of his own wrists near it. He tries to trace Ueda's nose that seems unusually wide near the end, then his cheekbones, and he can't figure out how the face looks. So he drags his fingers back up and down Ueda's face, doing it again and again until Ueda gasps. Then Ryo remembers about his lips and touches them with his thumb.
“Ryo,” Ueda mumbles, and Ryo's left hand slips behind his ear and into his hair again.
“Just a little more,” Ryo whispers, eager, not caring about anything. Ueda's lip under Ryo's thumb trembles.
“They are kind of . . . big,” Ryo murmurs, completely forgetting to keep his thoughts to himself. The top lip is as plush as the bottom one, and Ryo traces them from left to right, its contour and volume.
“Smile,” he murmurs, and Ueda twitches. “Just a bit,” Ryo pleads. He wants Ueda to hold on just a little longer.
Ueda's corners lift up a little, and Ryo smiles too. That is when he realizes he has closed his own eyes and has been just touching, just feeling for a while now. He startles and pulls his hands away, forcing himself to quickly open his eyes again.
“What happened?” Ueda asks, and he sounds breathless and scared.
“I . . . I'm sorry. You must be really uncomfortable. I didn't want to,” Ryo jumps up and hits his shin against his coffee table.
“I'm not,” Ueda says quickly, pulling at Ryo's hand. He lets go the moment Ryo sits down again.
“Do you see me now? You don't like it,” Ueda stops abruptly as if he just realized the possibility as he said it.
“No,” Ryo says then figures how that must sound. “I didn't mean it like that. I just got carried away,” he finishes, reaching forward and finding Ueda's knee.
“I really suck at this. I can't do anything right. You keep flinching and my fingers are probably too rough from guitar, and I just wanted to touch you at the end. I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” Ryo repeats. Ueda can't misunderstand, that is Ryo's forte. But he can't say what he feels because if he scares him away now, it was all pointless.
Ryo doesn't realize he is shaking until Ueda suddenly wraps his hands around him and hugs him. Ryo's head ends up on Ueda's shoulder, and his breathing subsides together with Ueda's. It is strange, completely wrong, and Ryo is lost in everything he feels, in everything Ueda lets him feel with his fingers and makes him feel with how he keeps him in place. Ryo can't pull away. He just needs to calm down, and with Ueda's soft breathing he manages.
“I'm sorry,” Ueda whispers much later when Ryo is slowly falling asleep, his hands still splayed against Ueda's back, his hand still on his shoulder.
+
Ryo wakes up in the morning, and Ueda is gone. That day is awkward, but they eventually work that much more and manage to finish the song, even recording a big part of the next one. They talk a little, and Ueda takes Ryo home, but the previous evening hangs over them until Ryo turns around in front of his door that night.
“Thank you for yesterday,” he says. He thinks he catches big lips quirking into a small smile, but then everything is mostly a blur again.
“Just forget it,” Ueda says lightly and leaves.
Ryo doesn't want to forget. He can act as if nothing special happened though. As if all is just like before. When he now imagines Ueda and his music, he imagines prominent collarbones, high cheeks, long eyelashes and plush lips too, and his music feels a bit more sophisticated like that. It doesn't make Ryo less impatient. He still wants to know how exactly Ueda looks, and he still wants to touch him. He also knows what it probably means, but he can file that for later too. Ueda was just kind to him, and Ryo doesn't plan to fall any deeper, hopes that once the dependency is gone, the feelings will be too.
A week later, all four songs are done, and his sight is much better. Colors are completely back even if they still hurt, and he still can't tolerate the light unless wearing his thick sunglasses everywhere. He can't read yet, but he can more or less distinguish people from each other, even if lines are still distorted. Ueda has reddish long hair and wears long sweaters.
+
Ueda once mentioned that he might want a guitar in another song or two but as they straighten out the last few rocky places of the contracted songs, he doesn't mention it anymore.
That night, Ryo's head hurts form too bright sun of early summer and too much of trying to actually see the score. He can't do it yet, even though he asked Ueda to bring him a much magnified version of the songs, but he keeps trying because the doctor says he needs to train the eyes that are not used to seeing, being kind of out of shape now. When the technicians leave, he sighs and lies on the studio floor, just because he doesn't feel like making it to the chair. He hears Ueda padding around and then the lights are off.
“Are we done?” Ryo asks because he really doesn’t like the silence today.
“Yeah. We are all done,” Ueda mumbles and drops to his knees next to Ryo.
“What do you mean all done?”
“All four songs,” Ueda whispers.
Ryo doesn't like the sound of it. He is too used to coming here every day, to meeting Ueda, to talking to him, going out for meals with him, to having him around. He considers offering further help, even without being payed. He knows work will still be hard to come by, and he doesn't think his agency would give him another job before he can take care of getting to places himself and read scores.
“I have a favor to ask,” Ueda says then. Ryo looks up when he feels Ueda taking his glasses away.
The place is mostly dark, so all Ryo sees are contours and shades. He reaches out to touch Ueda's face because right now that is what he wants to do. He wants to know if Ueda is as serious as he sounds, if the sadness Ryo suddenly feels is really Ueda's or his own.
Ueda gently pulls his hands away after a moment.
“I want to remember too,” he mutters, and Ryo doesn't get it. “Can you trust me and close your eyes?” It's a plea almost whispered in a deep voice that is trembling for once.
Ryo doesn't have to be asked. He doesn't care about what it is going to happen. He wants to show Ueda that he has the trust he asked for so long ago. He wants to make that voice strong and ringing, he wants to hear Ueda laugh, so that it is just like at the beginning, so that the first part of the mosaic fits again.
As he lays there, splayed on the floor that vibrates from the bass of the studio beneath them, Ryo feels Ueda's fingers smooth a wrinkle in between his eyes. They then rub his forehead, slowly touching every inch of the skin, running down his temples, across his cheeks and his chin, a thumb brushing his lip, just so, like a flying kiss. It doesn't return, but Ryo feels it rubbing the ridge of his ear while the other Ueda's hand combs his hair a little.
Just when Ryo starts to lean into that touch, it disappears. Ueda is still kneeling near by, and Ryo doesn't open his eyes, just trying to resist. He can't do it though, and he grabs Ueda's wrists, pulls him down as he himself leans up. His lips land on Ueda's cheek but he just drags them until they meet Ueda's lips, brushing them with his own. Ueda gasps, and Ryo wants more, but Ueda pulls away and stands up. Ryo sees practically nothing when he opens his eyes. Ueda's too far up in the dark to be recognizable.
“I'll drive you home,” he says.
+
Ryo has nothing to do the next day, or the one after it. He wanders around, his eyesight good enough to put the furniture back into its original (for a blind person very impractical position), for him to cook simple meals, to sort clothes. The days go buy as he practices his focus when he lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Then Jin comes the night before his eye check up.
“I've heard a preview of Ueda's flag song today. You sounded great, man,” he says.
“Of course I did,” Ryo tries to be smug.
“Things not going that well for you and the fairy, then” Jin states.
“What fairy?” Ryo asks and turns on his PC, hoping he will have a mail from his agency with the tracks in it. He zooms in and can now actually see the content of his mail-box, but there is nothing.
“Oh, tons of people call him that. You know white skin, long hair, girly look, long sweaters, far away look, . . .” It sounds nothing like the Ueda Ryo knows. He stares at Jin blankly. Jin obviously can't tell thought the shades.
“How long are you going to wear them?” he asks, not waiting for Ryo's reaction.
“I will find out tomorrow. So I would appreciate if you didn't drink all my beer so you can actually drive me to the hospital.”
“I will miss you bossing me around,” Jin grins and hands Ryo his beer.
+
Ryo can travel on his own now, by metro of course, the car still out of question, and his first trip is Ueda's agency headquarters. The album should be released in two weeks, the first PV in about a week. He remembers that much. He heard the song but his own agency doesn't have the other three he worked on. He wants to hear them. And Ueda is not picking up his phone.
He gets the songs from the secretary who apologizes for not sending them sooner. She adds the sample album for him. He searches the building for the studio, but Ueda is not there. He searches for the room with soft chairs but finds it locked. He thinks he sees a familiar figure heading his way then turning a corner before he can call out the name.
On the album, there are two more songs that have guitar as the second dominant instrument. It isn't his guitar and an album cover put under magnifying glass tells him that Ueda is claiming all of the music and not only piano but guitar instrumental in those songs. For the first time, Ryo thinks of avoidance.
By the end of the week, Ryo would probably get into Ueda's agency building by metro even if he was to go blind again. His eyesight however continues to get better. He stops wearing glasses inside the next week and can read almost normally. Nights lights are distorted, he finds out when he waits in front of the building, hoping Ueda shows up. He doesn't understand why Ueda seems to have disappeared or why he is ignoring him, and he doesn't know what he will say when he finally meets him again. He just wants to finally see him, look him into the eyes. Maybe say thank you, maybe say some more. Hopefully he'll just realize it was all the illusion created to replace what wasn't there and everything is over now.
Why won't you just watch the music video to the song?” Jin asks Ryo as he drives him home that night because he missed the last metro. “If you just want to see him so badly. You know you are like a stalker now.”
Ryo doesn't do it. He wants to see and maybe touch too, to make sure it really is that Ueda he knows, his Ueda, not an illusion for fans.
“Why are you hiding?” he asks the voice mail he gets yet again. “You are everywhere I go, on radio, TV screens, newspapers, yet I still haven't seen you.”
+
Ryo doesn't really go with such resolve, but as he waits outside the same building, sitting on the same stairs, the lights getting blurry as the sky gets darker, he knows this is the last time. He isn't going to chase this guy if he is this unwanted. He isn't going to long for him and live in the past that was dark and unseeing if he is not offered any future. He can see a new one for himself. He can make sure Ueda Tatsuya's face won't chase him from the mist in which Ryo has dreamed it up. He still hasn't watch the music video, hasn't bough one single magazine, hasn't been looking at the adds if he could help it. But he will tonight, and it will be over.
“Why are you still here?” Ueda's voice asks from somewhere above Ryo.
“Don't mind me. I'm just gonna go and never search for you again. Fairy, what nonsense. You are like a nightmare.” Ryo gets up from the stairs and passes by a man in sandals and long sweater tangled around his legs.
Clearly, this time, the voice wasn't in his head only. “Huh?”
“So you don't like fairies,” Ueda says silently when Ryo stops and turns around. Ueda is standing with his back to him. He really is slim and not much taller than Ryo, but his shoulders are wide. His hair is longer than Ryo remembers it, or maybe just imagined it. His is still blurry, standing in front of the lit up reception of his agency.
“What does that have to do with anything?” he asks, forgetting to be angry about this man escaping him for the past few weeks, making him act like a lovesick teenager and a very persistent stalker at the same time.
“I wanted you to remember me by . . . not like this anyway,” Ueda murmurs.
“Ueda, what nonsense are you talking about,” Ryo finally strides towards the guy and turns him around. “I just finally want to meet you, see you and look into your face without having to guess how it looks like or how you look at me. Is there a problem with it?”
“You said it yourself, I'm everywhere. Isn't that enough?”
Ryo's fingers don't leave Ueda's wrist. “Your lips really are huge,” he mutters. “And no it isn't enough. I thought we . . . we had this thing. Or maybe it was just me. I had this thing,” Ryo stops himself. Oh god, he is blabbing.
“We?”
“No, me. I know you weren't really happy when I tried to . . . be closer,” Ryo is really kind of bad at this talking. “But thanks to this job, those weeks weren't as long, and I didn't go crazy. Thanks to you, I didn't just sit there waiting,” Ryo takes a deep breath. Right, this at least is safe to say. “I wanted to thank you. In person. So, uhm, thank you.”
Ueda shakes his head and twist his hand in Ryo's grip until Ryo is about to let go. But he doesn't pull away, only slides his fingers against Ryo's.
“You jump to the strangest conclusions,” Ueda says when Ryo looks him in the eyes, surprised. “I just didn't want to start something that would end the moment you see me and think I am strange. I . . . I do have huge lips as you put it. Among other things. My audience are all girls that think I'm pretty, but men just eye me with mostly disdain, and this is how I dress, this is how I feel the best. With you, I didn't worry. I didn't want to spoil it.”
“You are an idiot. And you managed to hide it from me for over two months,” Ryo breathes out. His hearts is beating just as fast as it was the last time he saw Ueda, and he realizes nothing has ended. He now knows that it was not just an illusion. Ueda is standing in front of him, holding his hand, and the touch is the same, the way it makes Ryo feel is the same, even though he can see.
“And you are rude now that you can see again. So I guess we are even in that department,” Ueda retorts, though it looks like the anger is fake.
Someone comes out of the building, and they jump apart because it would probably not be the best idea if a young rising idol is seen holding hands with his guitarist. Other people see much better at night than Ryo does.
“Drive me home,” Ryo says, and Ueda still looks surprised as if he expects Ryo to run away any time soon.
Eventually, he starts walking where his car is anyway, and Ryo pulls at his sleeve and grabs onto it. “If someone asks, I still can't see well in the dark.”
Ueda almost chuckles.
“Are there fairies in your music video?” Ryo asks suddenly as he is climbing into the passenger seat.
“No,” Ueda says, confused. “You really didn't see it?”
“I told you, I wanted to see you first. I wanted to see the person I know. I . . . wanted to touch you.” It is out of Ryo's mouth before he can stop himself, but he stops regretting it the moment he notices Ueda's look, his lips parted, his eyes wide and questioning, boring into Ryo, only hinting he might have been kind of wanting to hear that.
So Ryo runs his thumb across Ueda's bottom lip, and when Ueda shivers this time, Ryo sees it crystal clear-the reason behind that shiver in Ueda's eyes that is far away from disgust or discomfort. He really is the king of misunderstandings.
Ryo leans in, and Ueda throws his hands around him the moment their lips touch. By the time Ryo is sucking on Ueda's tongue-and that is a completely unknown territory, Ueda's hands are splayed across Ryo's back and Ryo's fingers are pulling at Ueda's hair and playing with his ear. Ueda is shaking like a leaf against Ryo, and Ryo is mentally counting for how long he could have he been doing this already, had he read the signs right.
“We should really get out of here,” Ryo says as he pulls away. “While I still trust you to drive,” he mutters, brushing his lips against Ueda's. And Ueda blushes, Ryo can see it even in the poor light of his car's board when he turns the keys.
“I'm so keeping the lights on tonight,” he mutters, and Ueda suddenly laughs, really loud and deep and very manly. Ryo doesn't get it, all the gaps and contrasts, but he is planning to watch out for every single one of them. Now, Ueda can't hide anymore.
Fiji Things
end
A/N: I blurred out the details of Ryo's condition. I researched my possibilities because I didn't have the heart to make this a permanent state. You can detach your retina after a fall, a strain, if you have certain predisposition, or have severe infection both leading to eye patches, and if not complete blindness then states really close to it. I dragged it out so it might not be all completely correct, so please forgive me any inaccuracies. I usually stay far away from impairments and inabilities, so this was a long stretch. It is also hard to write from Ryo's POV when he doesn't see so I felt I was limited in showing how Ueda really was taking everything. I am only hoping it was not too much out there. I was considering posting anonymously but it got way too long for comment boxes, so I have to admit this fic is mine after all ;D
As always comments and concrit and anything else is welcome.
Pairing: Ryo, Ueda
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: (temporarily) blind Ryo, !AU
Summary: Ueda hires Ryo to help him with a few songs on his album. When Ryo shows up, he is unable to see. Will Ueda still work with him? Will Ryo be able to deal while he waits things out?
Notes: 8906 words, written for prompt no. 15 of Ryoda-thon. I just didn't have the heart to make Ryo full out blind. I hope I'll be forgiven.
Ryo hears laughter. It is deep, rumbling and completely different than he imagined when listening to the sample of the piano song that his company's manager reluctantly handed over to him couple of days ago. There seems to be no one else in the room but the person laughing, and he seems to be talking on the phone while Ryo and the manager just stand there. Ryo would like to know how the place looks like. How the person laughing this loudly looks like. He clears his throat, and the manager nudges him. Right, Ryo should be polite, very polite and apologetic and open and accommodating─kissing people's asses, if he really wants this job.
“I'm sorry I left you waiting,” the voice says, not as deep but still very prominent, and Ryo guesses the person turned around to face them. He bites his lip.
There's a moment of silence in which he can hear and feel the manager step forward.
“Uhm,” the other man in the room says.
“As I said, there are certain circumstances,” the manager says after a moment.
“I can play the guitar and make music just as fine as anyone who can see. Probably better than most of those who can see,” Ryo says, and he knows he sounds rough and unapologetic. Anything but how he should sound.
“You are blind,” the man half-asks, half-states.
“Temporarily,” the manager says quickly.
For a moment, Ryo kind of toys with the idea of denying that. He feels like it has been forever, and that it will be forever, and what does it matter? Let him think what he wants. It does not change a thing. He remembers where guitar chords are perfectly.
“I'm Nishikido Ryo,” he says, stepping forward, “and I will make your music into the best out there,” he adds.
The man touches his shoulder, and Ryo realizes he must be standing more to the right than he thought he did. He jerks away, but the man only grabs his other shoulder and squeezes it.
“I'm Ueda Tatsuya, and I'm looking forward to you trying.”
Ryo hears the manager let out a deep exhale into the silence that spreads between them. That jerk, he really could be more professional.
“Where can I sit?” Ryo asks when the manager leaves, promising that someone will come pick Ryo up in the evening.
“Here,” Ueda says, and Ryo turns where he thinks the voice has moved. Then Ueda grabs his elbow, pulls and pushes him down, and Ryo lands on a chair that suddenly spins. The man hovers over him-Ryo can feel him close by, but says nothing.
“You must have offered them a good deal, or they would not be willing to play my personal nanny every day,” Ryo says, and realizes he did not even asks how much he'd be paid if he took the job.
“How long . . .” Ueda starts instead of a reply, but Ryo cuts him off.
“I don't know. As I said, it doesn't matter.”
“No, I meant how long have you been . . . are you unable to see?” Ueda finishes.
Ryo reaches up and finds the zipper of his guitar case, opening it slowly. Only when the guitar is in his lap and he fingers through the strings, making sure they are there, he considers the reply. His guitar is the only thing that does not constantly move, the only stable thing he does not crush into or has to look for all the time. It calms his nerves-on edge from the moment he stepped into an unknown room.
“A while,” Ryo finally answers.
He doesn't see Ueda giving him a searching look, doesn't see him nod.
“The release date is set three months from now. I want your input on about four songs,” Ueda says after a moment. Ryo hears a click, and then the sound of C played on piano resounds in the room.
+
Ryo is tired when he comes home. The manager leaves the moment the key turns in his door, and Ryo manages to remember his shoe stand, his book shelf and his lamp standing in the hallway. He forgets about the drawer right behind his bedroom door but deems one and only crash on his way to the bathroom a success.
He sent his sister back to her family after a week out of the hospital, and he has been managing by himself ever since then. Of course, he has hired someone to go and do one big shopping a week for him, to clean his mess and wash his clothes. He orders in a lot, and in case of unexpected need he hunts one of his friends down, but he can't stand to be led by the hand like a child and to hang on to someone all the time. He couldn't stand just sitting in his apartment all the time either, waiting, playing guitar until his fingers, even though they are used to playing, hurt too much. He needed to do something, to work, to not think about himself. Ueda Tatsuya probably wanted him badly enough for his agency to actually consider it.
As he collapses into his bed, he tells himself that he can do this. His head hurts from a long day of concentrating on sounds, moves, music, on remembering, on not forgetting what he has already memorized and memorizing new patterns, new music and new environment. He can do this.
+
Ueda pours Ryo a glass of water the second day they spend together. Just like that, out of the blue. He pushes it into Ryo's hand and seems to sit somewhere close, away from the piano.
Ryo looks up then hangs his head because, well, it's not like he can see from behind his black patch, covering both of his eyes. There's that silence again. Ueda doesn't speak much, and Ryo hasn't heard him laugh once after that phone call.
“What do you want to know?” he sighs, pained. He doesn't like to tell the story, but this man didn't shut the door in his face yesterday. And he could have. He could have also laughed in his face, mock him because who would want to work with someone who is temporarily unable to do half of the stuff, and Ryo wouldn't have even seen it.
“Stop angsting all by yourself,” Ueda suddenly chuckles, and there is a small hint of that deep rumble in his voice.
“I'm not angsting,” Ryo says flatly.
Ueda gets up, grabs the cup from Ryo, and it clinks as it is set down somewhere. There should be a small table by the chair Ryo sits on.
“I could not see your lips from the way you pulled them together. And your eyebrows were furrowed,” Ueda says and hits a random key on his piano. “Ready?”
+
Ryo comes home and gobbles on the take out he begged the manager to pick up on the way home. Fried rice soothes his stomach, and he collapses on a couch that he crushes into on his way to the bedroom, forgetting that it's there when he heads out from the kitchen instead of a hallway. It will do for the night.
+
“We forgot to eat some lunch yesterday,” Ueda says when they are stuck in the middle of a song, Ryo getting frustrated every time Ueda says no to his suggestion.
“No,” Ryo says shortly, his fingers gripping the guitar handle tighter.
“But I'm starving. I bet you are hungry too. What do you like?” Ueda asks, and Ryo feels him moving around the room.
“I said no,” Ryo says, voice raising. “Just get me something to drink,” he adds, upset but keeping his voice level at check.
Ueda comes back with a bottle that has tea in it, not water, and Ryo gulps it all down. Only much later he realizes he didn't say please or thank you and that Ueda probably let it go.
They don't eat anything for lunch. Ueda calls it a day much sooner than he said he would. Ryo realizes he must have called Ryo's company beforehand when he went out because the person driving him is there already.
Ryo can't wait to get home to the other box of take out he has shrewdly ordered the day before.
+
“You know, you creep me out. Aren't you supposed to debut soon? Aren't you already popular and have a fan base? Shouldn't you talk more? Your concerts will be painful if you just stay silent all the time,” Ryo says the next day when Ueda sits him down onto the couch and just moves around the room without saying anything. Ryo then hears him coming closer and presumably sitting down, but he says nothing again.
Ryo wonders if Ueda stares. “Is something on my face?” He runs his hand across his mouth. “Rice from breakfast? Or toothpaste?” Both has happened before, and Jin has laughed really hard. Ryo's been much careful ever since then.
“There's nothing,” Ueda says quickly, grabbing Ryo's wrist and pulling it down. Ryo is just as startled as the first day when Ueda grabbed him freely.
“So what else do you know about me? Have you . . . heard of me before you took the job?” he asks, as if choosing his words.
“I was just handed the few songs you had sent and was told the basic background of the project. So, no. Too much piano for my taste,” Ryo says and Ueda laughs shortly.
“That is why you are here,” then Ueda sighs and sets to explain for the first time, “I like my sound, but I don't want to get repetitive. It is good to have a style, be recognizable, but I want to add a different twist to few of my songs. But I still don't want too many instruments, I want it simple-to feel acoustic. I heard you were good at it, so I─”
“Am I not?” Ryo cuts him off again.
“That's not what I said,” Ueda says sharply. “I'm just explaining why I chose you,” he says almost hurt.
“I didn't ask you to,” Ryo grumbles. He did want to know though.
“Yes, but you get upset when I don't like some suggestion of yours, and then you draw back, and it's not the same anymore. I trust you, but I want you to stop being so . . . to just work with me. It's a process. I like it, but I want this to be the best music out there,” Ueda finishes quickly, returning Ryo's words to him.
“I get that.”
+
Ueda keeps scheduling their meetings for half a day only for the next week. Ryo is getting really upset about it. He tries to listen more to Ueda's sound, to his reasons, to his images, but every time he feels he is there, they have to stop. Plus the managers keep telling him it's bothersome to find someone to get him in the middle of the day and that it will take much longer like this.
The second part, Ryo does not mind. He still thinks about the songs, works on them in his head when he comes home and he almost forgets his next medical check up, thinking about his problems only when he can't find things his cleaning/shopping services put on a wrong spot, or when he crushes into the furniture they moved. Or when Ueda moves him around the studio, making him sit elsewhere or brings him a drink or puts his headphones on for him when Ryo's leaving and he can't tell which one is left and which one is right.
+
“You either drive me home today, or I am staying all day,” Ryo announces the next day, right there in front of the secretary driving him that morning.
“You don't have to worry about Nishikido-kun's transport tonight,” Ueda says curtly and pulls Ryo into a new direction. “We are not in the studio today,” he says as he slowly walks him down the seemingly long hall.
“Oh,” is all Ryo says.
“But before we start,” Ueda says as he makes Ryo sink into what feels like a duffel bag chair and sits next to him, knees touching. “I have one condition.”
“What is it?” Ryo sighs, runs his hand over his face and his hair. He hears Ueda taking a deep breath. He might have tried to cover it, but Ryo's ears are much better now.
“You either eat something during the day, or I am driving you home at lunch. We are stopping on our way and getting some take out for you to eat unless there's someone at home waiting for your with cooked food. I guess that is what you do when you leave every day?”
Ryo bites his lip and stays silent. This time he is glad there is no chance he could even meet Ueda's eyes.
“You have to stop being so insecure around me. I get it; it's hard and frustrating, but you have to try and let me in, or this will never work.”
“I'm not insecure. And you can't possibly get it,” Ryo shouts, hands clasped around the sides of his chair. Ueda just puts his hand on Ryo's knee.
“Stop touching me, stop acting like you understand! Stop pitying me! It's embarrassing, it's unnerving, but you have no clue! How dare you,” Ryo tries to stand up, but Ueda stops him by grabbing both of his shoulders again and pushing him back into sitting.
“I'm sorry,” he says, voice low. He slides his hands down Ryo's shoulders and wraps his fingers around his wrists, leading them forward.
“Please. I'm sorry,” Ueda says again, and Ryo's hands land on top of Ueda's head, in his hair, all of it much lower than it should be and close to Ryo. Ueda is bowing down.
The anger slowly dissolves. All that stays is the warmth where Ueda has touched him. Firmly but with care, not like a doctor or his friends when they lead him somewhere. It felt soothing, human, without agenda. Fingers of Ryo's left hand unconsciously curl in Ueda's hair while his right hand slides down to Ueda's shoulder and just squeezes. Ueda stays silent, stays like that until Ryo finally lets go.
“If you laugh at me, I will hunt you down the moment I can see again,” Ryo says. “And I want some real meat today,” he adds. He might as well show Ueda what it means when a person eats blindly.
Ueda grabs his hand and presses it against his lips. They seem oddly plush, but they part and curl. Ryo gets it; Ueda is smiling. It would be weird if he said so. Ryo smiles too.
“Also, I'm not insecure. I'm actually a very confident and perfectly cool man.”
This time Ueda laughs out loud. That deep, rich laughter that will always be his trademark in Ryo's head. Ryo is kind of sorry he can't imagine how it looks like. Suddenly he wants to touch Ueda's face again, to know whether his eyes crinkle, whether he has dimples, how far can his mouth stretch into a smile like that. Instead, he grabs at the chair fabric again and tries to drown that want in the sound of Ueda's laughter.
+
Since then, Ueda always orders food for them, slowly forcing all of Ryo's favorite food out of him. They also stop going into the studio. Ueda says they will start recording only after he is content enough that they know what they are doing. He thinks it will go smoothly and quickly then. The other room has a couch, those low duffel bag chairs and a piano, but Ryo finds it easier to navigate around there, so he doesn't protest. Sometimes he even wonders if maybe that is why they are there in the first place. Only when Ueda still isn't hurried after a month, he gets impatient.
“If you are waiting for me to see, you should just get someone else,” Ryo says one day and the silence that follows shocks him. He can't even hear Ueda breathe, and he has been good at hearing that, at recognizing where Ueda is, even how he reacts, almost what his mood is by that alone. It probably means he is right.
“I think we should stop for today,” Ueda says coldly after another moment.
What? “We just started,” Ryo says, hoping Ueda would give his reaction away eventually.
“I know, but I just realized I need to take a step back and look at the music alone before we, I, continue,” Ueda replies, voice even, almost robotic. He takes Ryo's guitar from him, and Ryo hears him putting it back into the case.
“Are you mad because I said what you are thinking?” Ryo asks. That Ueda is upset becomes very clear.
Ueda leaves the room and when he comes back, he takes a deep breath.
“Let's go. I'll take you home, no one else has time.”
Ueda doesn't go with Ryo all the way up to his door the way he's been doing it since he had started driving Ryo home. He says good bye, but doesn't tell Ryo when they should meet tomorrow, and Ryo hears him drive away the moment the car door is shut behind him.
Drama queen, Ryo thinks. But he kind of wishes he stayed quiet.
+
Ryo has another check up the next day, so he doesn't go to see Ueda at all. When back home, Jin takes out the beers they picked up on the way and flops onto the couch next to Ryo.
“I'd say we should watch some movie and drink all night to celebrate, but you might still be a bit too near sighted for that,” he giggles and nudges Ryo.
“Not funny,” Ryo says, resisting the urge to take off his huge black glasses and rub his eyes. The heavy veil won't disappear just like that.
“Why are you sulking? This is great, isn't it? Just a few more weeks, and you'll be back in shape.”
“I need you to drive me somewhere tomorrow,” Ryo says instead. Jin stays silent. Ryo knows he is probably smirking and plotting but there's nothing to be done.
+
“Good morning,” Jin says with curiosity as they enter the studio.
Ryo hears the piano chair spin, and then he hears it topple over as someone rushes to them. He can feel one deep familiar exhale on his face, and he sees a shadow right in front of him. He really wants to see more, but straining his eyes just makes them hurt. In the same moment, he realizes that this room is much darker than the rest they went through, the shadow much deeper and burning his eyes much less. He wonders if it has always been like that.
“You . . . Can you see?” Ueda finally asks and takes a step back.
“Not really,” Jin answers instead of him and pats Ryo's shoulder. “But getting there.”
“I can talk,” Ryo points out.
“Yeah, and you are as pleasant as ever,” Jin says then introduces himself. Ryo knows he is snooping around the place, but Jin's phone rings and he ends up leaving without doing much more damage. Ryo places his guitar in front of himself and bows his head a little.
“I didn't want to upset you the last time. I'm sorry. Can we continue now?”
Ueda hums low in his throat. “I was unprofessional too. This is a job, and I should treat it just like that. I can't ask for more than professional confidence. So, I am sorry too. Please sit down,” he adds and leads Ryo to one of the chairs. He still sounds distant, and Ryo won't have any of it, still remembering how Ueda rushed to him when they came in just minutes ago. How he seemed to care.
“Oh, snap out of it,” he says but doesn't know how to continue. Asking what he did wrong is not an option.
Ueda only comes closer again and suddenly Ryo feels a finger swiping over his forehead right above the glasses' frame.
“I will tell you, but you have to stop sulking then,” Ryo sighs, kind of guessing what Ueda would ask for next.
Ueda stays quiet, and Ryo has to swat at his hand again.
“It's stupid really,” he begins into the silence, sensing, kind of seeing, Ueda on a chair opposite of him. He is to tell the story, but he doesn't have to go into details. It really is just a string of clumsiness, bad luck and the worse of the possible healing scenarios.
Ryo fell on some stupid stairs over two months ago. He hit his head and something in both of his eyes snapped too, but they found out quite late because they thought he can't see due to a small swelling near his brain. That went away without complications, but in the mean time the eyes needed a surgery. Some kind of infection got added to the mix, and it has been dragging on.
“But this is progress, right?” Ueda says, finally speaking in this low voice, and Ryo wonders how badly he wanted to know. He never really asked, now that Ryo thinks about it.
“I guess. But I can't see much, and light is driving me crazy so if you still want to wait for it-”
“You are such an asshole,” Ueda cuts him off with words and a hand on his mouth too. “I agreed to work with you, and I am not waiting for you to see again. I've seen you record before. I know it will go well if we have the songs down beforehand, and I don't like long recordings. Stop suspecting me of the worst!”
Ryo can feel how quickly the other is breathing, the sweaty palm against his mouth shaking a little.
“I'm just thinking the logical thing,” Ryo mumbles into Ueda's hand at the end and surprises himself with how soft it sounds. He grabs Ueda's palm, slides his fingers down his wrist and pulls it away, dragging his fingers the rest of the way to Ueda's shoulder.. He just wants to ruffle his hair but gets distracted by the skin on Ueda's cheek. He doesn't know why, but he ends up rubbing Ueda's ear. If Ueda was breathing fast before, now it seems he has stopped all together, and Ryo is startled by how charged the space between them becomes.
“I'm sorry,” he mumbles and pulls his hand away. He isn't sure what he is apologizing for.
“So you saw me before. So unfair that I don't remember. I wish I could add a face to your name too,” he laughs awkwardly when Ueda is still not saying anything.
“That sounds like you are adding me to your phone contacts,” Ueda says then, and it sounds much lighter. Almost like they are okay.
“Hey, didn't you say that the place that we order from is nice and dark? Maybe we should go have a lunch there,” Ryo blurts out, and he doesn't know where that came from because he doesn't eat out now. Plus why would anyone want to go to a restaurant with someone who is bound to make a mess and embarrass the rest of the party. He needs to take it back before things get awkward again.
“That'd be great,” Ueda says, and Ryo is kind of happy he is sitting. The surprise knocks the air out of him.
He wants to know how Ueda looks like right now, what he thinks, and if he is smiling. If he is as happy or as confused as Ryo is in that moment. He reaches out, but Ueda has moved a bit further away because he touches nothing. He wanted to find out the same way Ueda let him know the last time.
Ueda looks at Ryo's hand, but then swiftly turns around and reaches for Ryo's guitar. “Here you go. Let's go over the songs once before we have that lunch.”
+
“Everything is blurry,” Ryo murmurs when he comes home three days later.
“Well that isn't news or is it?” Jin says.
“You jerk,” Ryo shrieks in surprise since Jin has not informed him he would be visiting and sitting in his apartment waiting for him.
“So Ueda's been driving you home, huh?” Jin asks instead. “I brought dinner.”
“I've eaten already,” Ryo says in reply.
“I'll switch your body wash for your toothpaste if you don't tell me what exactly is going between you and Ueda,” Jin laughs.
“What the hell?!”
“He must have it bad, driving you around, taking you out and tolerating your moods,” Jin chirps, whirling around Ryo, until Ryo grabs for him and makes him stop.
“My head is spinning,” he growls at him.
“That bad?” Jin teases. “Do you have sex. Oh that's kinky, like a constant blindfold.”
“You idiot, it is spinning because you won't stop moving and talking nonsense,” Ryo wishes he could aim enough to slap the guy.
“He is kind of cute though,” Jin notes. “And I have more food left for myself like this.”
Ryo is really happy when Jin finally leaves. He is still pretty careful when he washes himself that night. Being covered in toothpaste isn't exactly his dream.
The only reason Ryo decided to work in his condition was so that he could stop being so impatient, could stop thinking of when he'd see again. But right now, this Ueda job is being very contra-productive. All he thinks about is how he wants to see so that he can make sure he looks okay going to work every day, so he can make sure that Jin isn't pulling his leg, so that he can see the finished scores and practice like that-not only by memory . . . Mostly he just wants to see Ueda. Then he might want to stop touching him.
Ueda has developed this habit of touching Ryo when he wants him to understand better. Just a quick tap on the shoulder or a pull in the right direction, his hand on Ryo's knee when he is talking face to face with him. It helps, but Ryo always wants to touch back, return what he is getting even if Ueda doesn't need the extra help. He has done it a couple of times since they started recording because Ueda gets anxious and doesn't like when they are stuck because they should not be anymore. Ryo knows it's just rookies nervousness, but he wants to make it better. But Ueda always holds his breath and shivers when Ryo tries to reach for him, and it just makes Ryo question everything. The trust he tries to build always shutters just a little. Ueda builds it up again and again, with all his gestures, all his help and silent understanding, but at this point, Ryo just needs to see, needs to know, and it is hard to just not run his fingers across Ueda's face to find out if he is frowning or smiling, not to push his palms against Ueda's shoulders to recognize if he is tense or relaxed.
Ryo has a mosaic. There is Ueda's voice, all of its lows and highs, the sound of it when he laughs, smiles, when he is excited, sad, upset or frustrated, all tones and colors of it memorized. There are his moves-swift and firm, his grasp on Ryo-strong and usually sure, his quick step, even his blurry outline that looks thin and about as tall as Ryo. There is his breath and his smell, even the texture of his hair from that one time, his atmosphere. All that is missing for Ryo to have a clear picture in his mind every time he thinks of Ueda are his features. He guesses, but he doesn't know. He wants to know.
Ryo is aware of how much time he spends thinking of this and of Ueda himself. He just hopes this all will stop if he just sees him once. Just like that, Ueda-his best therapy-is becoming his biggest enemy, wearing his patience down.
+
They are both distracted and anxious that day. Ueda snaps when his fingers get tangled in a long piano passage and Ryo grits his teeth when he tries to pat Ueda's hair but misses by what might be meters for all he knows. He should be better at this by now. Ryo growls when suddenly one of his strings snap, and he has to have someone else replace it, changing the balance. Ueda hisses when he knocks over his spinning chair yet again.
“I think you guys need a break,” sound technician says with a sigh, and Ryo and Ueda are left sitting outside of the studio, shoulders slumped identically.
“I just want to see,” Ryo whispers and feels Ueda stiffen next to him.
“Is it not . . .”
“It's better, but mostly because I tolerate the light better. But I am there, on the edge between knowing and guessing, and I am just so impatient. I want to see,” Ryo says it all before realizing how much he is exposing, before thinking about how whiny or weak it may make him sound. For once he forgets to care.
Ueda stands up and grabs his hand. “Let's go.”
+
“Can I come in?” Ueda asks when they get to Ryo's apartment. He has been silent the entire ride here, and Ryo was so tense he didn't even notice they were going to his apartment, completely missing all the signs of it-the sound of crossing the big bridge or the familiar bumps Ueda always hits spot on.
Ryo doesn't really want to be alone with his thoughts. He doesn't want to be alone with Ueda either, but it is the smaller devil so he nods.
“I have no clue how much my cleaning company is slacking off, and I refused to learn how to fold my clothes, so I am sorry if there's a mess.”
They end up on Ryo's couch. Ueda has found the beer Jin left here the last time but there's no TV to turn on, no video game to play and nothing else crosses Ryo's mind as he stares at the blurry outline that Ueda is through his glasses. Ueda gets up then, and Ryo hears him closing the blinds and doors.
“It's almost dark here,” he mutters when he comes back, and Ryo flinches when Ueda takes his glasses away.
“They must look pretty bad. Red or something,”Ryo says defensively, trying to put the glasses back on.
“Just a bit lost,” Ueda mutters. Then, just like that, Ryo feels his fingers on his forehead, slowly moving around his eyebrows to his cheekbones, one finger running down his nose.
“What are you doing?” Ryo asks, but doesn't pull back because Ueda's touch feels almost familiar by now. It makes Ryo lose a bit of tension despite how strange the situation is and leaves him warmer.
“You once said you wanted to see my face. I can't show you the rest of the world, but I can show you my face. Maybe you will be less impatient then,” Ueda says slowly, and Ryo gets it. Somehow Ueda is letting him do just what he has wanted to for a long time now.
He moves before Ueda could guide him even more, his hands shooting up and this time finding Ueda's shoulders with certainty. He takes a deep breath and feels Ueda doing the same. He is not going to ask if this is unpleasant for him because Ueda allowed it, he can deal with that later.
Ryo's fingers move only slowly, both of his hands sliding up Ueda's shoulders, tracing his neck, one hand feeling Ueda's pulse through a thick vein there. It quickens as Ryo moves, and by the time his fingers lose it, it is almost erratic. Ueda seems to have longish hair, tickling Ryo's fingers on their way up, and Ryo strokes them with both hands then leaves the right one on Ueda's cheek while he keeps on weeding the fingers of his left hand through them. Ueda is slightly shivering, and Ryo just wants to calm him.
It doesn't seem right to say anything. Maybe Ueda is trying to hide it, and if Ryo mentions it, he might not be allowed to go any further. Just as Ryo contemplates this, Ueda leans into the hand on his cheek, and Ryo finds his own breath hitching. His thumb slowly rubs a circle into Ueda's skin, fingers inching from Ueda's ear to his temple and over his forehead. He manages to bump into Ueda's eyelashes and they seems long, so Ryo brushes over them again. He knows Ueda closes his eye, and he wonders how he managed to have them open until now. Ryo blinks, but all he continues to see is the round contours of Ueda's head and the blur of his own wrists near it. He tries to trace Ueda's nose that seems unusually wide near the end, then his cheekbones, and he can't figure out how the face looks. So he drags his fingers back up and down Ueda's face, doing it again and again until Ueda gasps. Then Ryo remembers about his lips and touches them with his thumb.
“Ryo,” Ueda mumbles, and Ryo's left hand slips behind his ear and into his hair again.
“Just a little more,” Ryo whispers, eager, not caring about anything. Ueda's lip under Ryo's thumb trembles.
“They are kind of . . . big,” Ryo murmurs, completely forgetting to keep his thoughts to himself. The top lip is as plush as the bottom one, and Ryo traces them from left to right, its contour and volume.
“Smile,” he murmurs, and Ueda twitches. “Just a bit,” Ryo pleads. He wants Ueda to hold on just a little longer.
Ueda's corners lift up a little, and Ryo smiles too. That is when he realizes he has closed his own eyes and has been just touching, just feeling for a while now. He startles and pulls his hands away, forcing himself to quickly open his eyes again.
“What happened?” Ueda asks, and he sounds breathless and scared.
“I . . . I'm sorry. You must be really uncomfortable. I didn't want to,” Ryo jumps up and hits his shin against his coffee table.
“I'm not,” Ueda says quickly, pulling at Ryo's hand. He lets go the moment Ryo sits down again.
“Do you see me now? You don't like it,” Ueda stops abruptly as if he just realized the possibility as he said it.
“No,” Ryo says then figures how that must sound. “I didn't mean it like that. I just got carried away,” he finishes, reaching forward and finding Ueda's knee.
“I really suck at this. I can't do anything right. You keep flinching and my fingers are probably too rough from guitar, and I just wanted to touch you at the end. I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” Ryo repeats. Ueda can't misunderstand, that is Ryo's forte. But he can't say what he feels because if he scares him away now, it was all pointless.
Ryo doesn't realize he is shaking until Ueda suddenly wraps his hands around him and hugs him. Ryo's head ends up on Ueda's shoulder, and his breathing subsides together with Ueda's. It is strange, completely wrong, and Ryo is lost in everything he feels, in everything Ueda lets him feel with his fingers and makes him feel with how he keeps him in place. Ryo can't pull away. He just needs to calm down, and with Ueda's soft breathing he manages.
“I'm sorry,” Ueda whispers much later when Ryo is slowly falling asleep, his hands still splayed against Ueda's back, his hand still on his shoulder.
+
Ryo wakes up in the morning, and Ueda is gone. That day is awkward, but they eventually work that much more and manage to finish the song, even recording a big part of the next one. They talk a little, and Ueda takes Ryo home, but the previous evening hangs over them until Ryo turns around in front of his door that night.
“Thank you for yesterday,” he says. He thinks he catches big lips quirking into a small smile, but then everything is mostly a blur again.
“Just forget it,” Ueda says lightly and leaves.
Ryo doesn't want to forget. He can act as if nothing special happened though. As if all is just like before. When he now imagines Ueda and his music, he imagines prominent collarbones, high cheeks, long eyelashes and plush lips too, and his music feels a bit more sophisticated like that. It doesn't make Ryo less impatient. He still wants to know how exactly Ueda looks, and he still wants to touch him. He also knows what it probably means, but he can file that for later too. Ueda was just kind to him, and Ryo doesn't plan to fall any deeper, hopes that once the dependency is gone, the feelings will be too.
A week later, all four songs are done, and his sight is much better. Colors are completely back even if they still hurt, and he still can't tolerate the light unless wearing his thick sunglasses everywhere. He can't read yet, but he can more or less distinguish people from each other, even if lines are still distorted. Ueda has reddish long hair and wears long sweaters.
+
Ueda once mentioned that he might want a guitar in another song or two but as they straighten out the last few rocky places of the contracted songs, he doesn't mention it anymore.
That night, Ryo's head hurts form too bright sun of early summer and too much of trying to actually see the score. He can't do it yet, even though he asked Ueda to bring him a much magnified version of the songs, but he keeps trying because the doctor says he needs to train the eyes that are not used to seeing, being kind of out of shape now. When the technicians leave, he sighs and lies on the studio floor, just because he doesn't feel like making it to the chair. He hears Ueda padding around and then the lights are off.
“Are we done?” Ryo asks because he really doesn’t like the silence today.
“Yeah. We are all done,” Ueda mumbles and drops to his knees next to Ryo.
“What do you mean all done?”
“All four songs,” Ueda whispers.
Ryo doesn't like the sound of it. He is too used to coming here every day, to meeting Ueda, to talking to him, going out for meals with him, to having him around. He considers offering further help, even without being payed. He knows work will still be hard to come by, and he doesn't think his agency would give him another job before he can take care of getting to places himself and read scores.
“I have a favor to ask,” Ueda says then. Ryo looks up when he feels Ueda taking his glasses away.
The place is mostly dark, so all Ryo sees are contours and shades. He reaches out to touch Ueda's face because right now that is what he wants to do. He wants to know if Ueda is as serious as he sounds, if the sadness Ryo suddenly feels is really Ueda's or his own.
Ueda gently pulls his hands away after a moment.
“I want to remember too,” he mutters, and Ryo doesn't get it. “Can you trust me and close your eyes?” It's a plea almost whispered in a deep voice that is trembling for once.
Ryo doesn't have to be asked. He doesn't care about what it is going to happen. He wants to show Ueda that he has the trust he asked for so long ago. He wants to make that voice strong and ringing, he wants to hear Ueda laugh, so that it is just like at the beginning, so that the first part of the mosaic fits again.
As he lays there, splayed on the floor that vibrates from the bass of the studio beneath them, Ryo feels Ueda's fingers smooth a wrinkle in between his eyes. They then rub his forehead, slowly touching every inch of the skin, running down his temples, across his cheeks and his chin, a thumb brushing his lip, just so, like a flying kiss. It doesn't return, but Ryo feels it rubbing the ridge of his ear while the other Ueda's hand combs his hair a little.
Just when Ryo starts to lean into that touch, it disappears. Ueda is still kneeling near by, and Ryo doesn't open his eyes, just trying to resist. He can't do it though, and he grabs Ueda's wrists, pulls him down as he himself leans up. His lips land on Ueda's cheek but he just drags them until they meet Ueda's lips, brushing them with his own. Ueda gasps, and Ryo wants more, but Ueda pulls away and stands up. Ryo sees practically nothing when he opens his eyes. Ueda's too far up in the dark to be recognizable.
“I'll drive you home,” he says.
+
Ryo has nothing to do the next day, or the one after it. He wanders around, his eyesight good enough to put the furniture back into its original (for a blind person very impractical position), for him to cook simple meals, to sort clothes. The days go buy as he practices his focus when he lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Then Jin comes the night before his eye check up.
“I've heard a preview of Ueda's flag song today. You sounded great, man,” he says.
“Of course I did,” Ryo tries to be smug.
“Things not going that well for you and the fairy, then” Jin states.
“What fairy?” Ryo asks and turns on his PC, hoping he will have a mail from his agency with the tracks in it. He zooms in and can now actually see the content of his mail-box, but there is nothing.
“Oh, tons of people call him that. You know white skin, long hair, girly look, long sweaters, far away look, . . .” It sounds nothing like the Ueda Ryo knows. He stares at Jin blankly. Jin obviously can't tell thought the shades.
“How long are you going to wear them?” he asks, not waiting for Ryo's reaction.
“I will find out tomorrow. So I would appreciate if you didn't drink all my beer so you can actually drive me to the hospital.”
“I will miss you bossing me around,” Jin grins and hands Ryo his beer.
+
Ryo can travel on his own now, by metro of course, the car still out of question, and his first trip is Ueda's agency headquarters. The album should be released in two weeks, the first PV in about a week. He remembers that much. He heard the song but his own agency doesn't have the other three he worked on. He wants to hear them. And Ueda is not picking up his phone.
He gets the songs from the secretary who apologizes for not sending them sooner. She adds the sample album for him. He searches the building for the studio, but Ueda is not there. He searches for the room with soft chairs but finds it locked. He thinks he sees a familiar figure heading his way then turning a corner before he can call out the name.
On the album, there are two more songs that have guitar as the second dominant instrument. It isn't his guitar and an album cover put under magnifying glass tells him that Ueda is claiming all of the music and not only piano but guitar instrumental in those songs. For the first time, Ryo thinks of avoidance.
By the end of the week, Ryo would probably get into Ueda's agency building by metro even if he was to go blind again. His eyesight however continues to get better. He stops wearing glasses inside the next week and can read almost normally. Nights lights are distorted, he finds out when he waits in front of the building, hoping Ueda shows up. He doesn't understand why Ueda seems to have disappeared or why he is ignoring him, and he doesn't know what he will say when he finally meets him again. He just wants to finally see him, look him into the eyes. Maybe say thank you, maybe say some more. Hopefully he'll just realize it was all the illusion created to replace what wasn't there and everything is over now.
Why won't you just watch the music video to the song?” Jin asks Ryo as he drives him home that night because he missed the last metro. “If you just want to see him so badly. You know you are like a stalker now.”
Ryo doesn't do it. He wants to see and maybe touch too, to make sure it really is that Ueda he knows, his Ueda, not an illusion for fans.
“Why are you hiding?” he asks the voice mail he gets yet again. “You are everywhere I go, on radio, TV screens, newspapers, yet I still haven't seen you.”
+
Ryo doesn't really go with such resolve, but as he waits outside the same building, sitting on the same stairs, the lights getting blurry as the sky gets darker, he knows this is the last time. He isn't going to chase this guy if he is this unwanted. He isn't going to long for him and live in the past that was dark and unseeing if he is not offered any future. He can see a new one for himself. He can make sure Ueda Tatsuya's face won't chase him from the mist in which Ryo has dreamed it up. He still hasn't watch the music video, hasn't bough one single magazine, hasn't been looking at the adds if he could help it. But he will tonight, and it will be over.
“Why are you still here?” Ueda's voice asks from somewhere above Ryo.
“Don't mind me. I'm just gonna go and never search for you again. Fairy, what nonsense. You are like a nightmare.” Ryo gets up from the stairs and passes by a man in sandals and long sweater tangled around his legs.
Clearly, this time, the voice wasn't in his head only. “Huh?”
“So you don't like fairies,” Ueda says silently when Ryo stops and turns around. Ueda is standing with his back to him. He really is slim and not much taller than Ryo, but his shoulders are wide. His hair is longer than Ryo remembers it, or maybe just imagined it. His is still blurry, standing in front of the lit up reception of his agency.
“What does that have to do with anything?” he asks, forgetting to be angry about this man escaping him for the past few weeks, making him act like a lovesick teenager and a very persistent stalker at the same time.
“I wanted you to remember me by . . . not like this anyway,” Ueda murmurs.
“Ueda, what nonsense are you talking about,” Ryo finally strides towards the guy and turns him around. “I just finally want to meet you, see you and look into your face without having to guess how it looks like or how you look at me. Is there a problem with it?”
“You said it yourself, I'm everywhere. Isn't that enough?”
Ryo's fingers don't leave Ueda's wrist. “Your lips really are huge,” he mutters. “And no it isn't enough. I thought we . . . we had this thing. Or maybe it was just me. I had this thing,” Ryo stops himself. Oh god, he is blabbing.
“We?”
“No, me. I know you weren't really happy when I tried to . . . be closer,” Ryo is really kind of bad at this talking. “But thanks to this job, those weeks weren't as long, and I didn't go crazy. Thanks to you, I didn't just sit there waiting,” Ryo takes a deep breath. Right, this at least is safe to say. “I wanted to thank you. In person. So, uhm, thank you.”
Ueda shakes his head and twist his hand in Ryo's grip until Ryo is about to let go. But he doesn't pull away, only slides his fingers against Ryo's.
“You jump to the strangest conclusions,” Ueda says when Ryo looks him in the eyes, surprised. “I just didn't want to start something that would end the moment you see me and think I am strange. I . . . I do have huge lips as you put it. Among other things. My audience are all girls that think I'm pretty, but men just eye me with mostly disdain, and this is how I dress, this is how I feel the best. With you, I didn't worry. I didn't want to spoil it.”
“You are an idiot. And you managed to hide it from me for over two months,” Ryo breathes out. His hearts is beating just as fast as it was the last time he saw Ueda, and he realizes nothing has ended. He now knows that it was not just an illusion. Ueda is standing in front of him, holding his hand, and the touch is the same, the way it makes Ryo feel is the same, even though he can see.
“And you are rude now that you can see again. So I guess we are even in that department,” Ueda retorts, though it looks like the anger is fake.
Someone comes out of the building, and they jump apart because it would probably not be the best idea if a young rising idol is seen holding hands with his guitarist. Other people see much better at night than Ryo does.
“Drive me home,” Ryo says, and Ueda still looks surprised as if he expects Ryo to run away any time soon.
Eventually, he starts walking where his car is anyway, and Ryo pulls at his sleeve and grabs onto it. “If someone asks, I still can't see well in the dark.”
Ueda almost chuckles.
“Are there fairies in your music video?” Ryo asks suddenly as he is climbing into the passenger seat.
“No,” Ueda says, confused. “You really didn't see it?”
“I told you, I wanted to see you first. I wanted to see the person I know. I . . . wanted to touch you.” It is out of Ryo's mouth before he can stop himself, but he stops regretting it the moment he notices Ueda's look, his lips parted, his eyes wide and questioning, boring into Ryo, only hinting he might have been kind of wanting to hear that.
So Ryo runs his thumb across Ueda's bottom lip, and when Ueda shivers this time, Ryo sees it crystal clear-the reason behind that shiver in Ueda's eyes that is far away from disgust or discomfort. He really is the king of misunderstandings.
Ryo leans in, and Ueda throws his hands around him the moment their lips touch. By the time Ryo is sucking on Ueda's tongue-and that is a completely unknown territory, Ueda's hands are splayed across Ryo's back and Ryo's fingers are pulling at Ueda's hair and playing with his ear. Ueda is shaking like a leaf against Ryo, and Ryo is mentally counting for how long he could have he been doing this already, had he read the signs right.
“We should really get out of here,” Ryo says as he pulls away. “While I still trust you to drive,” he mutters, brushing his lips against Ueda's. And Ueda blushes, Ryo can see it even in the poor light of his car's board when he turns the keys.
“I'm so keeping the lights on tonight,” he mutters, and Ueda suddenly laughs, really loud and deep and very manly. Ryo doesn't get it, all the gaps and contrasts, but he is planning to watch out for every single one of them. Now, Ueda can't hide anymore.
Fiji Things
end
A/N: I blurred out the details of Ryo's condition. I researched my possibilities because I didn't have the heart to make this a permanent state. You can detach your retina after a fall, a strain, if you have certain predisposition, or have severe infection both leading to eye patches, and if not complete blindness then states really close to it. I dragged it out so it might not be all completely correct, so please forgive me any inaccuracies. I usually stay far away from impairments and inabilities, so this was a long stretch. It is also hard to write from Ryo's POV when he doesn't see so I felt I was limited in showing how Ueda really was taking everything. I am only hoping it was not too much out there. I was considering posting anonymously but it got way too long for comment boxes, so I have to admit this fic is mine after all ;D
As always comments and concrit and anything else is welcome.