Arashi: 13 out of 26
AN EXPLANATION IS NEEDED FOR THIS STORY: so I actually wrote this way back last August (holy crap has it really been that long?), in the middle of Arashi's 10th year anniversary activities, because I kept on thinking about how Nino has spent over half of his life in Johnny's. I got the fic beta'd by the always wonderful aeslis, and then I was like, "Okay, I will make my edits, and then POST IT." But I never did, because 1) this fic is a big deviation from my usual style and I felt anxious about showing it to you all, afraid you wouldn't like it, and the longer I mulled on it the more I lost confidence it in, and 2) because I lost confidence in it I never bothered to do my corrections and thus never posted it.
I wrote this as a response to seeing Nino's cane way back when they were performing on FNS. Yeah, that far back. I was planning to post it ages ago, really. T___T It was sort of an exercise in a different writing style, so I'm really unsure about this, but seeing as how I haven't posted anything else lately (by lately I might mean FOREVER), and everything else I still want to post is in WIP stages, and both waxrose and aeslis were like, "Just POST IT, STOP WORRYING!" I decided to suck up my emoness and put it up, so here it is, it's different from my usual, I hope you like it, please tell me if you don't so I can never do something like this again.
Fandom: Arashi
Title: 13/26
Rating: PG
Pairings: None
Word count: ~7,200
Warnings: quite possibly very boring
Summary: Nino is a mortal. Nino has stupid back problems. Nino is tired.
One last note: Sho hadn't even won the GQ Man of the Year award when I wrote this (yeah, that far back), so please cut me some slack about the way old time frame. I'm really sorry.
13/26
1.
“Our accomplishments feel like a dream,” Ohno says into the microphone. Nino stares straight into the cameras as the flashbulbs burst directly in his eyes. Aiba leans behind him to say something stupid into Jun’s ear, and Jun hits him. Sho laughs somewhere from the other side of their line of five. Nino is handed an award. He smiles. This is good, this is normal. Nino’s happy.
He stands up a little straighter.
2.
In the middle of level three, right when he’s about to get the last key sprite needed to unlock the boss chamber, Nino’s fingers unexpectedly seize up as a spark of pain ignites at the base of his spine, quickly rising like a firecracker and flaring through his entire torso, all the way down to his fingertips.
Nino pauses the game and breathes through his mouth, counts the seconds before the pain passes.
It doesn't.
Sho finds him. He rushes over to the couch and helps bring Nino upright again, one hand on Nino's shoulder, the other steady on Nino's back. He takes the Game Boy out of Nino's cramped grip and sets it on the coffee table in front of them. Nino watches it go mournfully; he'd been so close to the end.
"How is it?" Sho asks, worried. "We have five minutes until filming starts." The hand on Nino's back starts rubbing circles on Nino's skin, but Nino can barely feel it -- is it because of how many layers he's wearing, or is it because the pain is still so intense? Both, probably. He wishes Sho hadn't pulled him up. Lying down had been a little better.
"It'll be okay by then," Nino tells him. His voice sounds flippant, like he’s sure, like he's reading lines off a script.
Ninomiya, the actor.
He has to sit down a lot during filming. Everyone sees. No one mentions it. Aiba is louder than usual; Ohno, quieter.
Nino pretends he doesn’t notice.
During break, Jun takes a seat beside him and offers a sip of his coffee. It's too hot and Nino's pretty sure he burns his tongue on it so he doesn't thank Jun when he returns the cup; he just stares as Jun takes a huge gulp of it like it's nothing. Jun's throat is so pretty and thin, how can it handle such scalding temperatures? That’s what Nino wants to know. Aiba's got this theory of Jun being mostly robot. It’s in line with his bigger theory that all their insides got replaced with mechanical parts while they were sleeping on location one night, sometime after D no Arashi but before Mago Mago. ("How else can you explain us still chugging along?" Aiba had asked Nino once, and Nino had replied, "Idols get extra lives when they find their Star Power," and Aiba had laughed, but Nino hadn’t even realized he’d made a joke.)
"When's the last time you went to the doctor's?" Jun asks, as he scrolls through messages on his cell phone.
"None of your business," Nino answers lightly.
"But you have been going."
"Of course, mother.”
"Good," Jun says. "Don't make this an issue of time or money, Ninomiya. This is your health."
"I'm only twenty-six," Nino reminds Jun, even though he doesn't need to. They don't forget their ages. Also, Jun is a hypocrite. They're all hypocrites in this group. They say they’ll take the time to do any number of things, but inevitably, other things take priority. A full work year is made up of the five of them cycling through their own personal weeks of high activity or higher activity, of having more jobs than hours in a day. Right now, it's Nino's turn. It's been Nino's turn for a while.
That's fine. More money for games.
Obviously Nino hasn't been going to physical therapy. The funny thing is that Jun knows it. This lying to each other, it's just a stupid thing they all do, a small, pointless game. When it's Jun's turn to be too busy to breathe, it'll be Nino doing the pretending, asking if Jun had slept the night before and accepting Jun's yes, I slept well, now stop bothering me, I'm trying to read this script, and sharing Nino's lukewarm coffee.
Nino feels old.
3.
Arashi's huge right now, and the proof is all of them having their periods of higher activity more or less at the same time; unavoidable, because individual durations now span for months.
Keep up the good work, their management tells them. It's your anniversary year, and you guys were meant for great things. Arashi is finally getting its due. Arashi is really on top of the world. Everyone loves you. Is it any wonder you guys are in such high demand?
Thank you, they say, and bow their heads before heading to their next location.
On Nino's schedule today: a whole three hours of sleep. His backache abates enough for him to get about half of it.
During the hour or so when he's just lying in the dark, fingers clutching and unclutching at the edge of his blankets, Nino closes his eyes and imagines all the sore spots on his body lighting up and pinging for him, like he's a scout in a game, looking for hidden explosives with night goggles. I get it, Nino tells these flashing spots. I get that you're sick of this, that you're tired. But you're stuck with me, and I'm stuck as an idol, so you've got to stop acting up like this. Thirteen years -- don't you think you should be used to this by now?
He imagines using healing potions on each of the spots. Plus 10 HP. Plus 10 HP. Plus 10 HP. Just hold on for a little longer. Just until a safe point in the game: Nino's lull in the year.
Everyday Nino is gaining hundreds of experience points, and everyday Arashi is levelling up more and more, and Nino is glad for all of it, loves his work, loves to be part of Arashi, but sometimes he dreams of what would happen if he were able to spend more than a few hours at home per night. What a fucking novelty that would be. He wonders what it’d be like to have a pause button for his life. Pause, take a bathroom break, flex sore muscles, look out the window for a bit, then restart the game with a focused mind and renewed intent.
But they’re on such a roll. It’d be foolish to stop now.
The truth about Arashi is that none of them had expected to get this popular. Dreaming is one thing, but expecting? No. How could they have? Out of all five of them at debut, Jun was the only one who had had passion and drive for the job; Aiba had just been going along for the fun of it; the rest had wanted to quit.
Ten years haven’t done a lot to change Nino, but they’ve done some.
Occasionally they’ll be romantic, say things in interviews like Arashi is now a way of life, but when Nino says it, he doesn’t mean it mean it. Religion is a way of life. Staying healthy is a way of life. Arashi is not, because they are paid to be in Arashi. Every time Nino has to sign a contract, every time he sees posters of his face on the subway, Nino thinks: this is just a job. Even when he’s with the others, laughing and relaxing, the camera is there, and Nino is used to it, but it’s still just a part of the job.
The correct statement is: Arashi is now a job that is taking up more of their life than their actual lives. Arashi is something they cannot escape. Arashi is hard work - not to be confused with the other true statements: Arashi is hard, and Arashi is work. Nino can’t use these answers in interviews. He’d be misunderstood. But Nino doesn’t mean it negatively. Arashi isn’t something he’d want to get rid of or leave behind; Nino’s tired, but he’s not tired of Arashi. Nino has grown up in this group - it’s way too late to grow out of it.
Sometimes, on the rare occasions he's at home on Monday nights, Nino will lie in bed and watch News Zero and then Shukudai-kun, with two pillows stuffed under his waist. He'll listen to Sho earnestly report his segment, and take note of the cut of Sho's suit, the sweep of Sho's hair, the pattern of Sho's tie (he wore the same one about three weeks ago, when he'd been talking about North Korean missile plans). When Nino has every detail about Sho the newscaster memorized, Nino will close his eyes and not open them until he hears Sho's voice introducing their guests on Shukudai-kun. Then Nino will watch and listen and monitor this Sho, compare the differences to newscaster Sho, and try to find a pattern in this Sho's laughter (he’d laughed in the exact same way two weeks ago, when they had Hitori-san on -- Nino remembers wondering about what life was like as a Korean idol: was it harder or easier or just about the same?).
Lately, Nino also keeps track of how many times he himself has been shown sitting down on camera. He's been doing it more these days, and even the careful work of the editing crew can't omit every instance. Nino counts silently.
Sometimes Nino will fall asleep before the episode finishes. Sometimes Nino will reach for another pillow for his waist.
No, Nino is not bitter, Nino is not jaded, Nino does not hate life. Nino loves his friends, his coworkers, his job; Nino feels blessed for his own talents, his fans; Nino knows that he's done more in ten years than some people have their entire lives; Nino's name will go down in history, at least for a little while, because Arashi's will and he is part of Arashi. Arashi's impacted people. Arashi's made people smile and laugh and sing together. Arashi has broken records, set new standards, shown the entire world just what these so-called idols can do.
Nino just wants a break.
No, Nino does not want a break. It’s not like he’d have anything to do at home, if he had more private time. He could sleep, he supposes.
Nino isn’t sure what he wants. No. Actually, as always, if he thinks seriously about it, Nino doesn’t want anything. Nino is content with his lot in life, and is more than happy with what he has. Nino still thinks Arashi’s success is a miracle. The members have remained pretty much themselves through the years, but the world has changed to suit them. It’s everyone else who suddenly just started taking notice, liking them, wanting them to be everywhere. So Arashi just went with it, embracing their fame by taking job after job, but never outright acknowledging their status. Although, what they have now... isn’t that what they’ve been working for, this past decade? Wasn’t that their goal, from the very beginning? It’s been so long that Nino can’t take anything he used to say as a teenager seriously.
Maybe he’s just senile.
4.
Nino falls during filming of VS Arashi.
Luckily, the audience had just left the studio. Luckily, the cameras were no longer rolling. Lucky, lucky, Nino thinks, in that split second between him being vertical and horizontal. Doing the Cliff Climber today had been a bad idea.
Ohno catches him before he hits the ground and pulls him back to his feet. Nino supposes that to anyone else, it just looked like he'd tripped somehow. Ohno walks with him backstage, slow and steady, side by side, and they sit down together on the white couches and Ohno says nothing the entire time, only Nino knows he’s doing it on purpose. Nino repays him by picking on him the least during their post-game commentary.
Afterwards, Nino can't remember which episode they'd filmed for today, and it bothers him. Usually he'd know.
Nino falls during filming of Himitsu no Arashi-chan.
The audience is there this time. The cameras are rolling. But they aren't on Nino. They're all on Aiba, promoting his new drama. Aiba is rambling, getting off track from the original message on the cue cards, the other members are laughing, so it's not the ideal moment to jump in. But Nino's back spasms once, then twice with more intensity, so he says, "Okay! Moving on!" as he turns around, putting a hand on the table just in time to keep his legs from folding under him with the force of the third.
When they take their seats, Aiba doesn't look at him, which is his version of frowning.
Nino doesn't know if he's mad because Nino interrupted him or because he saw through Nino's cover up. So Nino just ignores it.
Nino doesn't fall during filming of Arashi no Shukudai-kun, but that's because he's already sitting. The pain is nearly constant now, so Nino only notices that something is wrong when filming finishes: he realizes that he can't get up.
"Go to the hospital," Ogura-san tells him, gently, as Sho and Jun help Nino limp off-set.
"I can't right away," Nino explains. "I have to--"
"Go to the hospital," Ogura-san repeats, not so gently, and takes out his cell phone.
5.
Nino refuses to stay in bed, but he can't walk normally without doubling over in pain, so they give him a cane.
The cane is waist-height, made of smooth, dark mahogany wood, the handle slightly curved, just right to fit in Nino's small palm, and his insurance company must have paid quite a bit for it. A beautiful cane that Nino despises as soon as he lays eyes it. In the mirror, the cane is painfully noticeable, and there is not a single way Nino can hold it to make it look less like a cane. Not good. Nino’s not superficial about looks, but his whole career is spent in public eye. Nino doesn’t care about height or strength, but cane makes him look shorter, weaker. Nino doesn't care about what others think of him, but he can’t let the public to see this.
Ninomiya, the cripple.
He starts doing back exercises at night. What’s another hour gone?
Ohno goes fishing in lieu of sleeping because he'd rather die on a boat than in a bed, but since the weather's been getting colder lately, he shows up on set one day chuffing out sleepy little sneezes that has the whole makeup crew cooing over him rather than lecturing him on the proper use of sunscreen. But his sneezes get louder and more frequent as the hours pass and by nightfall, his eyes are framed with red and the front of his white paper facial mask is damp with spit and snot. Their manager sends him home early, and Nino sends him sporadic texts for the rest of the evening, annoying things like aiba just made a rly lame joke, u wouldnt have gotten it and words that rhyme w/ jun: soon loon koon & stupid-head and omg sho is so embarrassing y am i not drunk rite now!!!! it would be 100x funnier.
Ohno calls in sick the next morning even though he swears to Nino that he's taken his medication (Nino only believes him because Nino believes in Ohno's mother) so Nino tells him, "Congratulations, I'm really happy for you," and surprises himself by how sincere he sounds. Then he realizes that he is sincere and spends the rest of the day getting pissed about how not much changes despite Ohno's absence -- if anything, their meetings actually run smoother.
u'd better stay at home until ur 100% better or else!!!! Nino texts Ohno, and Ohno replies ok.
Ohno lies. He shows up just in time for their ten pm photoshoot and it's obvious he barely has the energy to fake a smile, much less keep all the obnoxious positions their photographer keeps arranging them into.
"Leader," Nino says irritably, during a short break to get their makeup reapplied, "I thought you said that--"
"It's our job," Ohno replies immediately, and that's the end of that. Nino doesn't know if he should be proud of Ohno or not.
Nino only uses the cane when he has to, so it takes him a while to get a feel for it. The first time Nino throws it across the room in frustration, he finds himself wondering if he should regret anything that likely contributed to the... state that he's in now. Any particular examples? All those years of slouching over a guitar, or a game console, or a set of cards. All those years of backflips and somersaults and hanging off two strings, hundreds of metres above the ground. All those years of taking on another person's body, moving the way Nino doesn't normally move, carrying himself with a posture that isn’t his. Or is it everything adding up on top of each other over time, the same way water slowly wears down a stone's sharp edges? Nino has his pick of reasons.
No. It's useless to speculate. It won’t change anything, and even if it could, Nino would prefer to stay the way he is, thanks. Despite his occasionally unreliable body, Nino would never want to alter anything that made him him, because then he might not be where he is right now, which is, by all accounts, a good place to be. Nino’s fine. Regrets are stupid.
Nino regrets throwing his cane across the room, though. It hurts to bend down.
Aiba is in the middle of filming his first drama among all his regularly scheduled activities and Nino takes sadistic amusement in the way Aiba's overall energy level seems to be decreasing on a day-to-day basis.
"How did you do it, Nino," Aiba complains to him over lunch. "I barely have time to sleep!"
Nino shrugs and reshuffles his deck of cards. "You just get used to it."
"I feel like dying," Aiba laughs, and reaches for another piece of chicken from Nino's untouched meal.
"How do you like it?" Nino asks, pulling out four kings in a row and a joker. Aiba watches but isn't impressed; Nino's done this trick before.
"It's fun," Aiba says. "I really like the people I work with, and Momoka-chan--"
"I mean, how do you like the feeling of dying?" Nino clarifies, and Aiba blinks at him, caught off guard.
When Nino doesn't look away, Aiba swallows the food in his mouth and smiles with just a touch of bitterness. “You’re so morbid, Nino-chan,” he says. Nino shrugs and goes back to his cards.
The cane is not supposed to be broadcasted on national television. One of the cameras from FNS captures it anyway, behind the sloping curve of Sho's shoulder. Nino is enjoying the other performances; he doesn't notice until he sees himself on the overhead screen, the cane's handle clutched loosely in his left hand.
The cameraman moves away. Sho glances back at Nino, eyebrows high, waiting for Nino to say something, as if Nino should know how to react properly to things like this. Nino makes a face, like what are you gonna do, it's already too late, and Sho half-smiles before he turns to the front again. Nino stares at the back of Sho’s head and thinks about how he’s got fewer wrinkles than him.
"At least you've got that Galaxy award," Jun reminds him, during one of their (too frequent) smoke breaks. The wind whips sharply at Nino's face but Nino doesn't care enough to pull up his scarf. "It's not like you're not getting recognition for your work."
"Excuse me, Mister GQ Man of the Year," Nino says. If it's a matter of recognition, then Jun has no place to talk. (Not that it is a matter of recognition. Nino has never been big on statuettes - he’s got enough junk in his house.) He’s thought a lot about his malaise lately and has decided that if it’s a matter of anything (and who knows, it may not be), it's a matter of needing a vacation. He needs to be reminded that there are other things in the world than his job. Isn't it always Jun who says that he wants to take them to the beach and teach everyone how to surf? Nino hates travelling and Nino hates the ocean but Nino is willing to risk certain degrees of seasickness if it means he can see Jun ride a wave like he's got a pair of wings at his ankles, propelling him under the curl of the water, dipping, rising, and emerging victorious on the other side, with hair in his eyes and a grin on his face like he owns the fucking world. Or, alternatively, if it means Nino can see Jun falling flat on his ass before he even manages a good foothold on his surfboard. Either situation would be pretty great.
Wow. Nino has hit a new low: imagining Jun on his imaginary vacation. He reasons, though, that it's probably as close as he can get to the real thing: this is Matsumoto Jun, they are Arashi, and their time for real vacations had passed before they even knew they had the option.
"What I mean is," Jun sighs, "is that we've all accomplished a lot. We should be proud of ourselves and be thankful we've gotten this far at all. People would give a lot to be in our positions."
Nino glares at him. "When did I say that I wasn't proud of us? When did I say I wasn't grateful?"
"You didn't," Jun says. He's not smirking, but Nino knows him better than that.
"In a few years I'm going to look younger than you," Nino says, just to be spiteful. "You'll be GQ Senior of the Year. Break a leg walking down the red carpet."
"Don't be ridiculous, I work in television," Jun returns smoothly, and blows smoke into Nino's face.
Nino has a habit of taking one less painkiller than he actually needs. Not because he's cheap and wants his prescription to last (well, not just that), but because he likes the feeling of putting one pill back into the bottle. Sort of like saying a big fuck you to his back, his waist, his hips. Fuck you, I'm not done yet. Look at us. You'd be kidding me if you think I'm going to stop now. There's too much riding on us. Too many people watching. It’s Nino’s way of pretending he’s got control, as if he has the choice of just willing away the pain, but he’s keeping it on purpose like it’s another type of award. If the pain is proof that Nino is a part of Arashi, then Nino will take it, Nino has already taken it, done, it’s accepted it as part of his life, Nino has already forgotten what life was like without it, this constant dull aching at the edge of his consciousness.
It sucks though, when he has to go back later for extra pills. Sort of like his body retaliating, saying, we don't give a shit who you are and what you're doing. We're close to breaking, and here is a warning sign. This is when Nino will reach for a cigarette; if he's at home, some alcohol. Not yet, sip. Not yet, inhale. Not yet, grit teeth.
How glamorous.
Ninomiya, the celebrity.
6.
No one can say that Nino hasn't been working hard the past thirteen years, but it's not as if Nino has been suffering. Nino is not a slave of Johnny's, or of Arashi, or of his fans. Nino chooses to do what he does because he wants to, because as far as jobs go, this is a pretty enjoyable one.
Just like everything though, it's leaving a mark on him -- on all of them. Layers of makeup are needed to cover the bags under their eyes. Anti-aging cream for their wrinkles. Heat patches hidden under their clothes. Time is showing on their bodies, just as it has in their careers. Nino thinks that it's amazing what the human body can accomplish, when it has the motivation.
“When we first debuted,” Ohno says during an interview, “we only got around one hour of sleep per night. It was really hard.”
They take turns saying this line, because they’re proud that they can laugh at their past. They don’t mention the second part of that statement: We’re still getting around an hour of sleep per night. The only difference now is ten years.
7.
His DS is worn out -- the glossy exterior dull, dust between the clear plastic layers, his thumbprints on the keys, a key-made scrape on the bottom from when Aiba had accidentally sat on Nino's bag -- and he needs a new stylus. He needs a new game console entirely.
But this one still works fine, Nino reasons. No sense in throwing out something that functions without problems; no matter how shabby it looks on the outside, the inside is pristine and hums in Nino's hands like a favourite pet. Not like humans, who are subject to aging all over their skin and underneath it. But that's the thing with electronics -- the industry is so shallow. New models every year replace the older ones which slowly become obsolete, even though they were only doing what they were programmed to do.
It's a virtuous life.
Whatever. They're objects. Commodities. Factory-made.
Ninomiya, the sometimes-cynic, who enjoys a good bout of irony now and then.
8.
Today’s interviewer asks them a question about their anniversary. Nino makes another tick in his invisible notebook. (Fifty-seven times.) Jun thinks earnestly for a second, and then opens his mouth to give a solemn, genuine answer. Behind him, Nino mouths out Jun's reply in unison, almost word for word. Aiba notices, laughs a bit. Sho notices, frowns a bit. Ohno twitches awake, his elbow jostling Nino's.
Nino shifts in his chair. Tries not the check the clock. He uncrosses his legs, crosses them again. He answers the interviewer's next question without consciously thinking about it, but people are laughing, so it was probably fine. He wishes he had a set of cards right now. He wishes he'd brought his favourite cushion to set. But then how obvious would that be.
9.
“How are you feeling today?” Aiba asks him over breakfast (also known as two cups of coffee in the car).
Nino narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Why.”
“Geez, I’m just asking,” Aiba says. “Is it bad to be concerned over a friend’s well-being? Have you been sleeping well? You just look kinda tired.”
“Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?” Nino asks primly.
“You’re so frustrating,” Aiba laughs.
“I’m good,” Nino says. “I feel normal.”
A few minutes pass in silence. Nino nurses his coffee. “Hey, let’s go golfing on Sunday,” Aiba suggests abruptly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Nino agrees easily. “Sure. But you’re paying for lunch.”
“Yay, okay.”
This is the third time Aiba has suggested a weekend activity this month and none of them have gone through. So Sunday golf will not happen. Lunch will not happen. But the intention is there, and Nino admires Aiba for trying.
Nino knows he's having a bad day when they send Ohno to go talk to him.
"Can you stop please," Ohno says.
"Stop what," Nino says, like he doesn't know. "And pick a card."
"Being such a grouch," Ohno answers, like he doesn't know Nino knows. He picks a card. "Can I look at it?"
"Sure," Nino tells him. "I haven't been grouchy." He fans out his deck. He hasn’t been grouchy. Not on air, anyway, and isn’t that all that matters?
"Yes you have, and you should stop it," Ohno says, and slides his card back somewhere in the left side. "If it's your back, then--"
"I'm fine," Nino says quickly. "It's gotten better lately. I'm fine." He shuffles twice.
Ohno nods and checks his watch.
"How is your cold? Are you going fishing today?" Nino asks him, putting the deck back in their box.
"Yes. And I'm fine too."
"Fantastic," Nino smiles.
"Is that it for the trick?" Ohno asks, watching Nino put the cards in his pocket.
"I messed it up," Nino says, yawning. "I need a nap."
Today is harder than it should be. Nino’s back actually has been getting better lately, but the Aibaland game strains it again. Nino was stupid; he’d left his pills at home. In the photoshoot they have afterwards, he is less participatory, and Jun has to step in and say a few jokes that he wouldn’t usually say. When the interviewer remarks that Ninomiya-san’s pale skin is such a contrast to Ohno-san’s sunburnt one, Nino forces a laugh.
Jun says, “We try to give advice to him, but he doesn’t listen.” Of course the interviewer thinks he’s referring to Ohno (of course Ohno doesn’t react either way), but Nino isn’t stupid, he knows who Jun’s actually talking to.
“I’ve been cutting down my espresso intake,” Jun tells him later, and he says it like he’s lecturing Nino. “How many cups have you seen me drink this past week?”
Nino thinks back: probably twelve? That does seem like Jun’s making more of an effort to stay alive, not just awake. “I’ll make a physio appointment for the weekend,” Nino says.
“You do that.” Jun flips open his cell and sends a quick message; Nino’s phone vibrates. “That’s my favourite massage parlour. You should be able to get a discount if you go there.”
Nino puckers his lips. “Are you going to join me with roses and scented oil?” This is his way of saying that he appreciates it. Maybe he’ll go, maybe he won’t, but he likes that Jun still has hope in him.
Jun rolls his eyes. “Don’t think of me too much while you’re there; we don’t want any accidents making their way to the front page of Bubka.” But he smiles briefly too.
“Nino,” Sho says, grabbing Nino’s elbow right before Nino’s about to exit the car, muttering goodnight, thinking, see you guys in like five hours, hell, Nino might as well just sleep in the car but it would probably mess up his posture even more, “try to get a good rest today.”
Nino shrugs. “I always do.”
“Here, maybe these will help,” Sho says, and holds out a box of incense sticks. Nino laughs.
“What if it turns out I’m allergic and die of asphyxiation during the night?” he asks.
“I’m willing to take that risk,” Sho deadpans, and slides the van’s door shut.
Once home, Nino spends a bit of time having a staring contest in the mirror. He silently asks himself what his problem is. He’s worrying the others, and that’s something Nino never wants to do. The only person who can solve Nino’s problem - if it’s even a problem, if can even be solved - is Nino himself, so Nino should just suck it up already and do it. Better that than floating around in this cloud of general dissatisfaction. If this is Nino’s middle-age-for-an-idol crisis, then Nino wants it to be over and done with already. He’s got better things to spend his time on. Thanking his stupidly annoying but well-meaning friends, for one.
If there is one reason that Nino continues to live and breathe Arashi to this day, without rest, without faltering, it’s because of those four idiots, who’ve been with him every step of the way.
Nino thinks that even if his back broke, they’d probably still stick by him. Actually, they definitely would, because they are just the kind of idiots who’d love Nino no matter what. No matter how many years pass. No matter how tired they all become.
Nino stares at himself, pale skin and eye bags and all, and tips himself a bit to the left, as if he was leaning on someone. He finds that he looks younger from that angle.
10.
The incense smells spicy and expensive; good thing Nino’s only allergic on principle. The only problem is the ghost of Sho’s voice in Nino’s ear, trying to give Nino a pep talk that Nino doesn’t really want. Nino tries to wipe his mind blank. Nino does everything best when his mind is blank. But he ends up hearing Aiba’s voice instead.
I don’t get it, Nino, Aiba says. Aren’t you happy?
Of course Aiba doesn’t get it. Nino doesn’t even get it, and that’s probably what is pissing him off right now. He is happy, and he’s sure of that. So what if he gets backaches every so often, who cares, that’s just a day in the life. So why all this self-indignant melancholy? Nino had never taken himself for an egoist.
You’d feel better if you’d just get those massages I tell you to, Jun says. It’ll give you a fresh burst of energy.
It’s not that, Nino thinks. Not just that. It can’t be just that.
Maybe you should go fishing, Ohno suggests. Oh, sorry. I forgot you get seasick.
As always though, Ohno brings up a valid point. If Nino had to relate this feeling thing he has to anything, he would probably relate it to seasickness. A half-hearted nausea that shifts perilously in the pit of Nino’s stomach, negligible most of the time, but there to assert its presence whenever Nino takes a large breath, whenever Nino’s hands aren’t occupied, when it’s quiet. Like right now. It’s this feeling, right now. Nino can’t get rid of it. Where did it come from? Is it a side effect of his back?
I get nauseous at tall heights, Sho doesn’t remind him. Is it like that?
How is Nino supposed to know the answer to that? Nino’s not afraid of heights.
If he were playing a game, now would be the point where Nino would pause and try to figure a strategy for his next goal. Nino doesn’t play real life like he plays games. He doesn’t plan for the future. He doesn’t bother with aspirations. Even though it feels like he’s been working for what he has for a long, long time, it’s not quite true. Nino has been working. And what he has came to him without Nino asking for it. He’s thankful, but it’s like being suddenly struck with a superpower: the entire world is shaking Nino’s hand for his good work, but all he’s thinking is that he’s just a stupid kid who lucked out of real life, thinking madly, “I hope I don’t screw this up,” but also, “what would happen if I did screw up?” and, “is this really what I was meant for?” and finally, “it might as well be, since I’m here.” The responsibility is heavy.
Arashi is so high right now. So, so high.
How long can it last? How far will they fall?
Maybe Nino should rethink things. Maybe he really does have a fear of heights.
Nino’s always enjoyed replaying Arashi’s conversations in his head, only tonight they apparently won’t stop talking. Why should his imagination be any different from real life, Nino thinks exasperatedly.
Nino’s the stupidest, Aiba is scolding. Arashi won’t fall. I won’t let it.
Aiba can’t do anything right by himself, Jun says. I suppose I’ll have to help too.
We’re not even high, Sho says, a note of panic in his voice. We’re standing on the ground. Nino, I would appreciate it if you stop making height-related metaphors. Why are you raising worries needlessly?
Why indeed, Nino wonders.
Nino, go to sleep, Ohno chides. You can talk to us for real tomorrow morning.
True enough, Nino thinks, and closes his eyes.
In the dark of the night, Nino pictures Sho with a family. A cute wife who doesn't wear tight clothing, and two boys and a little girl, just like the way he grew up. Nino pictures Aiba happy and healthy even as he starts to grey at the temples, laughing just as easily as he did as a teenager (and probably finding the same jokes funny). Nino imagines Jun going to the animal shelter and finally getting that dog he's always wanted -- a little one with fur that resembles Jun's own hairstyle. Nino imagines Ohno fishing on weekdays, weekends, and times in between; and out in the open waters, Ohno will dance alone on his boat, dance like he was made to, dance like he hasn't been able to since he was put in Arashi.
Nino pictures himself in the future being exactly the way he is now. The thought is comforting enough to lull him to sleep.
11.
It’s Sunday morning and when Nino finally trudges out of bed to answer the incessant knocking at the door, he’s surprised to see Aiba, dressed in sport clothes, eyes bright.
“Well?” Aiba says, grinning. “Come on, hurry up! I put reservations at 10. Some pipe blew up in the NTV building, so we’re free for the whole morning!”
“What?” Nino says.
“Golfing!” Aiba shouts. “Let’s go!”
Aiba wins by a large margin. His game’s improved a lot since last year - the guy has obviously been sneaking off to play when he shouldn’t have. Nino can’t begrudge him that; he actually felt pretty satisfied when he realized.
After golf, Nino heads to Jun’s favourite massage parlour. The massage helps more than he expects it to, but hell if Nino’s going to tell Jun that.
“I heard you’re down in the doldrums,” is the first thing his sister says when Nino picks up his phone. Nino debates hanging up on her.
“Are you going to give me a pep talk, nee-san?” Nino asks.
His sister scoffs. “As if I’ve got time for that. You may think you’re busy, Kazu, but you try taking care of a baby twenty-four hours a day. You know nothing about being tired.”
“Is this your way of asking me to babysit?”
“Honestly, Kazu,” his sister plows on, “you have to take better care of yourself. I don’t care what your excuse is; I don’t want my daughter growing up thinking that her uncle is a zombie.”
“I don’t look like a zombie on television.”
“You do when you come visit us.”
“I never do that.”
“A vampire, then.”
“Thanks for your call, nee-san,” Nino says.
“Kazu,” his sister interrupts. “Really. You’re losing weight, the photos can’t hide that. You didn’t even have any to lose. You have to start taking more care of your health now, while you’re still young.”
Nino wipes his chin thoughtfully. Young, hmm. “What would you have me do? I have commitments. So do the other members. We have schedules to keep. And it’s not like I can stop growing old.” See, this is just it. So Nino’s body is tired, fine. But Nino can’t do anything about it. He can’t just jump on a plane and fly to a tropical island. He can’t turn off his job for a day. He can only use the time he has the best he can, and right now, Nino is still relatively young. His health shouldn’t be his top concern.
“I don’t know. Get in a scandal. Go into hiding to avoid the fallout.”
Nino smirks. “And damage Arashi’s reputation?”
“Who cares?” his sister gripes. “It’s not like the others will be mad at you for it. If you guys make it to fifty, God willing, you’ll still be as sickeningly sweet together as you are right now.”
Nino hangs up feeling strangely reassured.
12.
During a break in their concert rehearsals, Sho wanders over to Nino and Ohno, sitting at the edge of the stage. “How are you guys feeling?” he asks, handing them water bottles.
“Fine,” Nino answers for both of them. “You’re working hard, as always. Look at your pit stains.”
Sho looks under his arms and laughs. “Yeah, well. I was actually referring to your back, though. Is it giving you any problems?”
Ohno turns his head to Nino and Nino shrugs. “No, I’ve started going to physio again.” Surprisingly, it’s true, and Nino thinks that Sho might know he’s telling the truth this time.
“That’s good,” Sho smiles. “I’m glad to hear that.” He narrows his eyes. “But you’re not skipping lunch to do that, are you?”
“No, I asked my manager to tweak my schedule. It just means a few more phone interviews per month.” Ohno’s shoulder bumps into Nino’s warmly. Nino bumps back.
“Good for Nino-chan,” Ohno murmurs. Nino tries not to be pleased.
“It’s almost the new year,” Sho sighs, crushing his water bottle absently. “How about I book a nice vacation for all of us? Realistically, we won’t get much time off next year, either, but maybe in 2011. Or 2012.”
“2020,” Ohno suggests.
“Done.” Sho grins at Nino. “You think you can hold on for another ten years?”
Nino smiles back. “What’s that saying about time flying?”
13.
The truth about Arashi is that they love being popular. Not in the narcissistic sense, but in the sense that they know it’s a measure of how far they’ve come. It’s a measure of how much work they’ve put into this group. It’s a product of their teamwork. They may not understand why they’re so loved now, but Nino can’t deny that it’s a good thing they are. Arashi’s a good thing, a great thing. The single greatest thing in Nino’s life. And Nino’s working on bettering his health, so Arashi will last longer. So even if Nino falls, he can pick himself back up again. There’s a cliché about time being what people make of it somewhere in here, but Nino’s not going to think about it, not right now. Not at a concert.
The platform all five of them are standing on hums and whirs and begins to rise to the stage. The crowd’s roar resounds in their ears, getting louder and louder. Thousands of people are chanting their names. Thousands of people, gathered together, to see the five of them skip around and try to keep a tune. There’s a familiar thrum of excitement in the air, and just like every time before the start of a concert, Nino has a brief lapse of intense nausea in his gut, threatening to ruin him. But he makes himself raise his head to feel the spotlight on his face; then the music is starting and Jun takes his cue and there, they’re off, and Nino is free to breathe. His grin is painfully large when he screams his hello, and the audience screams back to him. Nino pictures this as his key sprite: a win! Revitalization spot found! Energy restored! Proceed to the next level, you can do it! Jun catches his expression and tosses him a smirk. Nino spreads out his arms. See, he doesn’t say. This is our life, and he is fine.
Ninomiya, the idol, for rest of his days.
Thanks for reading. :) Comments/crit very appreciated.
I wrote this as a response to seeing Nino's cane way back when they were performing on FNS. Yeah, that far back. I was planning to post it ages ago, really. T___T It was sort of an exercise in a different writing style, so I'm really unsure about this, but seeing as how I haven't posted anything else lately (by lately I might mean FOREVER), and everything else I still want to post is in WIP stages, and both waxrose and aeslis were like, "Just POST IT, STOP WORRYING!" I decided to suck up my emoness and put it up, so here it is, it's different from my usual, I hope you like it, please tell me if you don't so I can never do something like this again.
Fandom: Arashi
Title: 13/26
Rating: PG
Pairings: None
Word count: ~7,200
Warnings: quite possibly very boring
Summary: Nino is a mortal. Nino has stupid back problems. Nino is tired.
One last note: Sho hadn't even won the GQ Man of the Year award when I wrote this (yeah, that far back), so please cut me some slack about the way old time frame. I'm really sorry.
13/26
1.
“Our accomplishments feel like a dream,” Ohno says into the microphone. Nino stares straight into the cameras as the flashbulbs burst directly in his eyes. Aiba leans behind him to say something stupid into Jun’s ear, and Jun hits him. Sho laughs somewhere from the other side of their line of five. Nino is handed an award. He smiles. This is good, this is normal. Nino’s happy.
He stands up a little straighter.
2.
In the middle of level three, right when he’s about to get the last key sprite needed to unlock the boss chamber, Nino’s fingers unexpectedly seize up as a spark of pain ignites at the base of his spine, quickly rising like a firecracker and flaring through his entire torso, all the way down to his fingertips.
Nino pauses the game and breathes through his mouth, counts the seconds before the pain passes.
It doesn't.
Sho finds him. He rushes over to the couch and helps bring Nino upright again, one hand on Nino's shoulder, the other steady on Nino's back. He takes the Game Boy out of Nino's cramped grip and sets it on the coffee table in front of them. Nino watches it go mournfully; he'd been so close to the end.
"How is it?" Sho asks, worried. "We have five minutes until filming starts." The hand on Nino's back starts rubbing circles on Nino's skin, but Nino can barely feel it -- is it because of how many layers he's wearing, or is it because the pain is still so intense? Both, probably. He wishes Sho hadn't pulled him up. Lying down had been a little better.
"It'll be okay by then," Nino tells him. His voice sounds flippant, like he’s sure, like he's reading lines off a script.
Ninomiya, the actor.
He has to sit down a lot during filming. Everyone sees. No one mentions it. Aiba is louder than usual; Ohno, quieter.
Nino pretends he doesn’t notice.
During break, Jun takes a seat beside him and offers a sip of his coffee. It's too hot and Nino's pretty sure he burns his tongue on it so he doesn't thank Jun when he returns the cup; he just stares as Jun takes a huge gulp of it like it's nothing. Jun's throat is so pretty and thin, how can it handle such scalding temperatures? That’s what Nino wants to know. Aiba's got this theory of Jun being mostly robot. It’s in line with his bigger theory that all their insides got replaced with mechanical parts while they were sleeping on location one night, sometime after D no Arashi but before Mago Mago. ("How else can you explain us still chugging along?" Aiba had asked Nino once, and Nino had replied, "Idols get extra lives when they find their Star Power," and Aiba had laughed, but Nino hadn’t even realized he’d made a joke.)
"When's the last time you went to the doctor's?" Jun asks, as he scrolls through messages on his cell phone.
"None of your business," Nino answers lightly.
"But you have been going."
"Of course, mother.”
"Good," Jun says. "Don't make this an issue of time or money, Ninomiya. This is your health."
"I'm only twenty-six," Nino reminds Jun, even though he doesn't need to. They don't forget their ages. Also, Jun is a hypocrite. They're all hypocrites in this group. They say they’ll take the time to do any number of things, but inevitably, other things take priority. A full work year is made up of the five of them cycling through their own personal weeks of high activity or higher activity, of having more jobs than hours in a day. Right now, it's Nino's turn. It's been Nino's turn for a while.
That's fine. More money for games.
Obviously Nino hasn't been going to physical therapy. The funny thing is that Jun knows it. This lying to each other, it's just a stupid thing they all do, a small, pointless game. When it's Jun's turn to be too busy to breathe, it'll be Nino doing the pretending, asking if Jun had slept the night before and accepting Jun's yes, I slept well, now stop bothering me, I'm trying to read this script, and sharing Nino's lukewarm coffee.
Nino feels old.
3.
Arashi's huge right now, and the proof is all of them having their periods of higher activity more or less at the same time; unavoidable, because individual durations now span for months.
Keep up the good work, their management tells them. It's your anniversary year, and you guys were meant for great things. Arashi is finally getting its due. Arashi is really on top of the world. Everyone loves you. Is it any wonder you guys are in such high demand?
Thank you, they say, and bow their heads before heading to their next location.
On Nino's schedule today: a whole three hours of sleep. His backache abates enough for him to get about half of it.
During the hour or so when he's just lying in the dark, fingers clutching and unclutching at the edge of his blankets, Nino closes his eyes and imagines all the sore spots on his body lighting up and pinging for him, like he's a scout in a game, looking for hidden explosives with night goggles. I get it, Nino tells these flashing spots. I get that you're sick of this, that you're tired. But you're stuck with me, and I'm stuck as an idol, so you've got to stop acting up like this. Thirteen years -- don't you think you should be used to this by now?
He imagines using healing potions on each of the spots. Plus 10 HP. Plus 10 HP. Plus 10 HP. Just hold on for a little longer. Just until a safe point in the game: Nino's lull in the year.
Everyday Nino is gaining hundreds of experience points, and everyday Arashi is levelling up more and more, and Nino is glad for all of it, loves his work, loves to be part of Arashi, but sometimes he dreams of what would happen if he were able to spend more than a few hours at home per night. What a fucking novelty that would be. He wonders what it’d be like to have a pause button for his life. Pause, take a bathroom break, flex sore muscles, look out the window for a bit, then restart the game with a focused mind and renewed intent.
But they’re on such a roll. It’d be foolish to stop now.
The truth about Arashi is that none of them had expected to get this popular. Dreaming is one thing, but expecting? No. How could they have? Out of all five of them at debut, Jun was the only one who had had passion and drive for the job; Aiba had just been going along for the fun of it; the rest had wanted to quit.
Ten years haven’t done a lot to change Nino, but they’ve done some.
Occasionally they’ll be romantic, say things in interviews like Arashi is now a way of life, but when Nino says it, he doesn’t mean it mean it. Religion is a way of life. Staying healthy is a way of life. Arashi is not, because they are paid to be in Arashi. Every time Nino has to sign a contract, every time he sees posters of his face on the subway, Nino thinks: this is just a job. Even when he’s with the others, laughing and relaxing, the camera is there, and Nino is used to it, but it’s still just a part of the job.
The correct statement is: Arashi is now a job that is taking up more of their life than their actual lives. Arashi is something they cannot escape. Arashi is hard work - not to be confused with the other true statements: Arashi is hard, and Arashi is work. Nino can’t use these answers in interviews. He’d be misunderstood. But Nino doesn’t mean it negatively. Arashi isn’t something he’d want to get rid of or leave behind; Nino’s tired, but he’s not tired of Arashi. Nino has grown up in this group - it’s way too late to grow out of it.
Sometimes, on the rare occasions he's at home on Monday nights, Nino will lie in bed and watch News Zero and then Shukudai-kun, with two pillows stuffed under his waist. He'll listen to Sho earnestly report his segment, and take note of the cut of Sho's suit, the sweep of Sho's hair, the pattern of Sho's tie (he wore the same one about three weeks ago, when he'd been talking about North Korean missile plans). When Nino has every detail about Sho the newscaster memorized, Nino will close his eyes and not open them until he hears Sho's voice introducing their guests on Shukudai-kun. Then Nino will watch and listen and monitor this Sho, compare the differences to newscaster Sho, and try to find a pattern in this Sho's laughter (he’d laughed in the exact same way two weeks ago, when they had Hitori-san on -- Nino remembers wondering about what life was like as a Korean idol: was it harder or easier or just about the same?).
Lately, Nino also keeps track of how many times he himself has been shown sitting down on camera. He's been doing it more these days, and even the careful work of the editing crew can't omit every instance. Nino counts silently.
Sometimes Nino will fall asleep before the episode finishes. Sometimes Nino will reach for another pillow for his waist.
No, Nino is not bitter, Nino is not jaded, Nino does not hate life. Nino loves his friends, his coworkers, his job; Nino feels blessed for his own talents, his fans; Nino knows that he's done more in ten years than some people have their entire lives; Nino's name will go down in history, at least for a little while, because Arashi's will and he is part of Arashi. Arashi's impacted people. Arashi's made people smile and laugh and sing together. Arashi has broken records, set new standards, shown the entire world just what these so-called idols can do.
Nino just wants a break.
No, Nino does not want a break. It’s not like he’d have anything to do at home, if he had more private time. He could sleep, he supposes.
Nino isn’t sure what he wants. No. Actually, as always, if he thinks seriously about it, Nino doesn’t want anything. Nino is content with his lot in life, and is more than happy with what he has. Nino still thinks Arashi’s success is a miracle. The members have remained pretty much themselves through the years, but the world has changed to suit them. It’s everyone else who suddenly just started taking notice, liking them, wanting them to be everywhere. So Arashi just went with it, embracing their fame by taking job after job, but never outright acknowledging their status. Although, what they have now... isn’t that what they’ve been working for, this past decade? Wasn’t that their goal, from the very beginning? It’s been so long that Nino can’t take anything he used to say as a teenager seriously.
Maybe he’s just senile.
4.
Nino falls during filming of VS Arashi.
Luckily, the audience had just left the studio. Luckily, the cameras were no longer rolling. Lucky, lucky, Nino thinks, in that split second between him being vertical and horizontal. Doing the Cliff Climber today had been a bad idea.
Ohno catches him before he hits the ground and pulls him back to his feet. Nino supposes that to anyone else, it just looked like he'd tripped somehow. Ohno walks with him backstage, slow and steady, side by side, and they sit down together on the white couches and Ohno says nothing the entire time, only Nino knows he’s doing it on purpose. Nino repays him by picking on him the least during their post-game commentary.
Afterwards, Nino can't remember which episode they'd filmed for today, and it bothers him. Usually he'd know.
Nino falls during filming of Himitsu no Arashi-chan.
The audience is there this time. The cameras are rolling. But they aren't on Nino. They're all on Aiba, promoting his new drama. Aiba is rambling, getting off track from the original message on the cue cards, the other members are laughing, so it's not the ideal moment to jump in. But Nino's back spasms once, then twice with more intensity, so he says, "Okay! Moving on!" as he turns around, putting a hand on the table just in time to keep his legs from folding under him with the force of the third.
When they take their seats, Aiba doesn't look at him, which is his version of frowning.
Nino doesn't know if he's mad because Nino interrupted him or because he saw through Nino's cover up. So Nino just ignores it.
Nino doesn't fall during filming of Arashi no Shukudai-kun, but that's because he's already sitting. The pain is nearly constant now, so Nino only notices that something is wrong when filming finishes: he realizes that he can't get up.
"Go to the hospital," Ogura-san tells him, gently, as Sho and Jun help Nino limp off-set.
"I can't right away," Nino explains. "I have to--"
"Go to the hospital," Ogura-san repeats, not so gently, and takes out his cell phone.
5.
Nino refuses to stay in bed, but he can't walk normally without doubling over in pain, so they give him a cane.
The cane is waist-height, made of smooth, dark mahogany wood, the handle slightly curved, just right to fit in Nino's small palm, and his insurance company must have paid quite a bit for it. A beautiful cane that Nino despises as soon as he lays eyes it. In the mirror, the cane is painfully noticeable, and there is not a single way Nino can hold it to make it look less like a cane. Not good. Nino’s not superficial about looks, but his whole career is spent in public eye. Nino doesn’t care about height or strength, but cane makes him look shorter, weaker. Nino doesn't care about what others think of him, but he can’t let the public to see this.
Ninomiya, the cripple.
He starts doing back exercises at night. What’s another hour gone?
Ohno goes fishing in lieu of sleeping because he'd rather die on a boat than in a bed, but since the weather's been getting colder lately, he shows up on set one day chuffing out sleepy little sneezes that has the whole makeup crew cooing over him rather than lecturing him on the proper use of sunscreen. But his sneezes get louder and more frequent as the hours pass and by nightfall, his eyes are framed with red and the front of his white paper facial mask is damp with spit and snot. Their manager sends him home early, and Nino sends him sporadic texts for the rest of the evening, annoying things like aiba just made a rly lame joke, u wouldnt have gotten it and words that rhyme w/ jun: soon loon koon & stupid-head and omg sho is so embarrassing y am i not drunk rite now!!!! it would be 100x funnier.
Ohno calls in sick the next morning even though he swears to Nino that he's taken his medication (Nino only believes him because Nino believes in Ohno's mother) so Nino tells him, "Congratulations, I'm really happy for you," and surprises himself by how sincere he sounds. Then he realizes that he is sincere and spends the rest of the day getting pissed about how not much changes despite Ohno's absence -- if anything, their meetings actually run smoother.
u'd better stay at home until ur 100% better or else!!!! Nino texts Ohno, and Ohno replies ok.
Ohno lies. He shows up just in time for their ten pm photoshoot and it's obvious he barely has the energy to fake a smile, much less keep all the obnoxious positions their photographer keeps arranging them into.
"Leader," Nino says irritably, during a short break to get their makeup reapplied, "I thought you said that--"
"It's our job," Ohno replies immediately, and that's the end of that. Nino doesn't know if he should be proud of Ohno or not.
Nino only uses the cane when he has to, so it takes him a while to get a feel for it. The first time Nino throws it across the room in frustration, he finds himself wondering if he should regret anything that likely contributed to the... state that he's in now. Any particular examples? All those years of slouching over a guitar, or a game console, or a set of cards. All those years of backflips and somersaults and hanging off two strings, hundreds of metres above the ground. All those years of taking on another person's body, moving the way Nino doesn't normally move, carrying himself with a posture that isn’t his. Or is it everything adding up on top of each other over time, the same way water slowly wears down a stone's sharp edges? Nino has his pick of reasons.
No. It's useless to speculate. It won’t change anything, and even if it could, Nino would prefer to stay the way he is, thanks. Despite his occasionally unreliable body, Nino would never want to alter anything that made him him, because then he might not be where he is right now, which is, by all accounts, a good place to be. Nino’s fine. Regrets are stupid.
Nino regrets throwing his cane across the room, though. It hurts to bend down.
Aiba is in the middle of filming his first drama among all his regularly scheduled activities and Nino takes sadistic amusement in the way Aiba's overall energy level seems to be decreasing on a day-to-day basis.
"How did you do it, Nino," Aiba complains to him over lunch. "I barely have time to sleep!"
Nino shrugs and reshuffles his deck of cards. "You just get used to it."
"I feel like dying," Aiba laughs, and reaches for another piece of chicken from Nino's untouched meal.
"How do you like it?" Nino asks, pulling out four kings in a row and a joker. Aiba watches but isn't impressed; Nino's done this trick before.
"It's fun," Aiba says. "I really like the people I work with, and Momoka-chan--"
"I mean, how do you like the feeling of dying?" Nino clarifies, and Aiba blinks at him, caught off guard.
When Nino doesn't look away, Aiba swallows the food in his mouth and smiles with just a touch of bitterness. “You’re so morbid, Nino-chan,” he says. Nino shrugs and goes back to his cards.
The cane is not supposed to be broadcasted on national television. One of the cameras from FNS captures it anyway, behind the sloping curve of Sho's shoulder. Nino is enjoying the other performances; he doesn't notice until he sees himself on the overhead screen, the cane's handle clutched loosely in his left hand.
The cameraman moves away. Sho glances back at Nino, eyebrows high, waiting for Nino to say something, as if Nino should know how to react properly to things like this. Nino makes a face, like what are you gonna do, it's already too late, and Sho half-smiles before he turns to the front again. Nino stares at the back of Sho’s head and thinks about how he’s got fewer wrinkles than him.
"At least you've got that Galaxy award," Jun reminds him, during one of their (too frequent) smoke breaks. The wind whips sharply at Nino's face but Nino doesn't care enough to pull up his scarf. "It's not like you're not getting recognition for your work."
"Excuse me, Mister GQ Man of the Year," Nino says. If it's a matter of recognition, then Jun has no place to talk. (Not that it is a matter of recognition. Nino has never been big on statuettes - he’s got enough junk in his house.) He’s thought a lot about his malaise lately and has decided that if it’s a matter of anything (and who knows, it may not be), it's a matter of needing a vacation. He needs to be reminded that there are other things in the world than his job. Isn't it always Jun who says that he wants to take them to the beach and teach everyone how to surf? Nino hates travelling and Nino hates the ocean but Nino is willing to risk certain degrees of seasickness if it means he can see Jun ride a wave like he's got a pair of wings at his ankles, propelling him under the curl of the water, dipping, rising, and emerging victorious on the other side, with hair in his eyes and a grin on his face like he owns the fucking world. Or, alternatively, if it means Nino can see Jun falling flat on his ass before he even manages a good foothold on his surfboard. Either situation would be pretty great.
Wow. Nino has hit a new low: imagining Jun on his imaginary vacation. He reasons, though, that it's probably as close as he can get to the real thing: this is Matsumoto Jun, they are Arashi, and their time for real vacations had passed before they even knew they had the option.
"What I mean is," Jun sighs, "is that we've all accomplished a lot. We should be proud of ourselves and be thankful we've gotten this far at all. People would give a lot to be in our positions."
Nino glares at him. "When did I say that I wasn't proud of us? When did I say I wasn't grateful?"
"You didn't," Jun says. He's not smirking, but Nino knows him better than that.
"In a few years I'm going to look younger than you," Nino says, just to be spiteful. "You'll be GQ Senior of the Year. Break a leg walking down the red carpet."
"Don't be ridiculous, I work in television," Jun returns smoothly, and blows smoke into Nino's face.
Nino has a habit of taking one less painkiller than he actually needs. Not because he's cheap and wants his prescription to last (well, not just that), but because he likes the feeling of putting one pill back into the bottle. Sort of like saying a big fuck you to his back, his waist, his hips. Fuck you, I'm not done yet. Look at us. You'd be kidding me if you think I'm going to stop now. There's too much riding on us. Too many people watching. It’s Nino’s way of pretending he’s got control, as if he has the choice of just willing away the pain, but he’s keeping it on purpose like it’s another type of award. If the pain is proof that Nino is a part of Arashi, then Nino will take it, Nino has already taken it, done, it’s accepted it as part of his life, Nino has already forgotten what life was like without it, this constant dull aching at the edge of his consciousness.
It sucks though, when he has to go back later for extra pills. Sort of like his body retaliating, saying, we don't give a shit who you are and what you're doing. We're close to breaking, and here is a warning sign. This is when Nino will reach for a cigarette; if he's at home, some alcohol. Not yet, sip. Not yet, inhale. Not yet, grit teeth.
How glamorous.
Ninomiya, the celebrity.
6.
No one can say that Nino hasn't been working hard the past thirteen years, but it's not as if Nino has been suffering. Nino is not a slave of Johnny's, or of Arashi, or of his fans. Nino chooses to do what he does because he wants to, because as far as jobs go, this is a pretty enjoyable one.
Just like everything though, it's leaving a mark on him -- on all of them. Layers of makeup are needed to cover the bags under their eyes. Anti-aging cream for their wrinkles. Heat patches hidden under their clothes. Time is showing on their bodies, just as it has in their careers. Nino thinks that it's amazing what the human body can accomplish, when it has the motivation.
“When we first debuted,” Ohno says during an interview, “we only got around one hour of sleep per night. It was really hard.”
They take turns saying this line, because they’re proud that they can laugh at their past. They don’t mention the second part of that statement: We’re still getting around an hour of sleep per night. The only difference now is ten years.
7.
His DS is worn out -- the glossy exterior dull, dust between the clear plastic layers, his thumbprints on the keys, a key-made scrape on the bottom from when Aiba had accidentally sat on Nino's bag -- and he needs a new stylus. He needs a new game console entirely.
But this one still works fine, Nino reasons. No sense in throwing out something that functions without problems; no matter how shabby it looks on the outside, the inside is pristine and hums in Nino's hands like a favourite pet. Not like humans, who are subject to aging all over their skin and underneath it. But that's the thing with electronics -- the industry is so shallow. New models every year replace the older ones which slowly become obsolete, even though they were only doing what they were programmed to do.
It's a virtuous life.
Whatever. They're objects. Commodities. Factory-made.
Ninomiya, the sometimes-cynic, who enjoys a good bout of irony now and then.
8.
Today’s interviewer asks them a question about their anniversary. Nino makes another tick in his invisible notebook. (Fifty-seven times.) Jun thinks earnestly for a second, and then opens his mouth to give a solemn, genuine answer. Behind him, Nino mouths out Jun's reply in unison, almost word for word. Aiba notices, laughs a bit. Sho notices, frowns a bit. Ohno twitches awake, his elbow jostling Nino's.
Nino shifts in his chair. Tries not the check the clock. He uncrosses his legs, crosses them again. He answers the interviewer's next question without consciously thinking about it, but people are laughing, so it was probably fine. He wishes he had a set of cards right now. He wishes he'd brought his favourite cushion to set. But then how obvious would that be.
9.
“How are you feeling today?” Aiba asks him over breakfast (also known as two cups of coffee in the car).
Nino narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Why.”
“Geez, I’m just asking,” Aiba says. “Is it bad to be concerned over a friend’s well-being? Have you been sleeping well? You just look kinda tired.”
“Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?” Nino asks primly.
“You’re so frustrating,” Aiba laughs.
“I’m good,” Nino says. “I feel normal.”
A few minutes pass in silence. Nino nurses his coffee. “Hey, let’s go golfing on Sunday,” Aiba suggests abruptly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Nino agrees easily. “Sure. But you’re paying for lunch.”
“Yay, okay.”
This is the third time Aiba has suggested a weekend activity this month and none of them have gone through. So Sunday golf will not happen. Lunch will not happen. But the intention is there, and Nino admires Aiba for trying.
Nino knows he's having a bad day when they send Ohno to go talk to him.
"Can you stop please," Ohno says.
"Stop what," Nino says, like he doesn't know. "And pick a card."
"Being such a grouch," Ohno answers, like he doesn't know Nino knows. He picks a card. "Can I look at it?"
"Sure," Nino tells him. "I haven't been grouchy." He fans out his deck. He hasn’t been grouchy. Not on air, anyway, and isn’t that all that matters?
"Yes you have, and you should stop it," Ohno says, and slides his card back somewhere in the left side. "If it's your back, then--"
"I'm fine," Nino says quickly. "It's gotten better lately. I'm fine." He shuffles twice.
Ohno nods and checks his watch.
"How is your cold? Are you going fishing today?" Nino asks him, putting the deck back in their box.
"Yes. And I'm fine too."
"Fantastic," Nino smiles.
"Is that it for the trick?" Ohno asks, watching Nino put the cards in his pocket.
"I messed it up," Nino says, yawning. "I need a nap."
Today is harder than it should be. Nino’s back actually has been getting better lately, but the Aibaland game strains it again. Nino was stupid; he’d left his pills at home. In the photoshoot they have afterwards, he is less participatory, and Jun has to step in and say a few jokes that he wouldn’t usually say. When the interviewer remarks that Ninomiya-san’s pale skin is such a contrast to Ohno-san’s sunburnt one, Nino forces a laugh.
Jun says, “We try to give advice to him, but he doesn’t listen.” Of course the interviewer thinks he’s referring to Ohno (of course Ohno doesn’t react either way), but Nino isn’t stupid, he knows who Jun’s actually talking to.
“I’ve been cutting down my espresso intake,” Jun tells him later, and he says it like he’s lecturing Nino. “How many cups have you seen me drink this past week?”
Nino thinks back: probably twelve? That does seem like Jun’s making more of an effort to stay alive, not just awake. “I’ll make a physio appointment for the weekend,” Nino says.
“You do that.” Jun flips open his cell and sends a quick message; Nino’s phone vibrates. “That’s my favourite massage parlour. You should be able to get a discount if you go there.”
Nino puckers his lips. “Are you going to join me with roses and scented oil?” This is his way of saying that he appreciates it. Maybe he’ll go, maybe he won’t, but he likes that Jun still has hope in him.
Jun rolls his eyes. “Don’t think of me too much while you’re there; we don’t want any accidents making their way to the front page of Bubka.” But he smiles briefly too.
“Nino,” Sho says, grabbing Nino’s elbow right before Nino’s about to exit the car, muttering goodnight, thinking, see you guys in like five hours, hell, Nino might as well just sleep in the car but it would probably mess up his posture even more, “try to get a good rest today.”
Nino shrugs. “I always do.”
“Here, maybe these will help,” Sho says, and holds out a box of incense sticks. Nino laughs.
“What if it turns out I’m allergic and die of asphyxiation during the night?” he asks.
“I’m willing to take that risk,” Sho deadpans, and slides the van’s door shut.
Once home, Nino spends a bit of time having a staring contest in the mirror. He silently asks himself what his problem is. He’s worrying the others, and that’s something Nino never wants to do. The only person who can solve Nino’s problem - if it’s even a problem, if can even be solved - is Nino himself, so Nino should just suck it up already and do it. Better that than floating around in this cloud of general dissatisfaction. If this is Nino’s middle-age-for-an-idol crisis, then Nino wants it to be over and done with already. He’s got better things to spend his time on. Thanking his stupidly annoying but well-meaning friends, for one.
If there is one reason that Nino continues to live and breathe Arashi to this day, without rest, without faltering, it’s because of those four idiots, who’ve been with him every step of the way.
Nino thinks that even if his back broke, they’d probably still stick by him. Actually, they definitely would, because they are just the kind of idiots who’d love Nino no matter what. No matter how many years pass. No matter how tired they all become.
Nino stares at himself, pale skin and eye bags and all, and tips himself a bit to the left, as if he was leaning on someone. He finds that he looks younger from that angle.
10.
The incense smells spicy and expensive; good thing Nino’s only allergic on principle. The only problem is the ghost of Sho’s voice in Nino’s ear, trying to give Nino a pep talk that Nino doesn’t really want. Nino tries to wipe his mind blank. Nino does everything best when his mind is blank. But he ends up hearing Aiba’s voice instead.
I don’t get it, Nino, Aiba says. Aren’t you happy?
Of course Aiba doesn’t get it. Nino doesn’t even get it, and that’s probably what is pissing him off right now. He is happy, and he’s sure of that. So what if he gets backaches every so often, who cares, that’s just a day in the life. So why all this self-indignant melancholy? Nino had never taken himself for an egoist.
You’d feel better if you’d just get those massages I tell you to, Jun says. It’ll give you a fresh burst of energy.
It’s not that, Nino thinks. Not just that. It can’t be just that.
Maybe you should go fishing, Ohno suggests. Oh, sorry. I forgot you get seasick.
As always though, Ohno brings up a valid point. If Nino had to relate this feeling thing he has to anything, he would probably relate it to seasickness. A half-hearted nausea that shifts perilously in the pit of Nino’s stomach, negligible most of the time, but there to assert its presence whenever Nino takes a large breath, whenever Nino’s hands aren’t occupied, when it’s quiet. Like right now. It’s this feeling, right now. Nino can’t get rid of it. Where did it come from? Is it a side effect of his back?
I get nauseous at tall heights, Sho doesn’t remind him. Is it like that?
How is Nino supposed to know the answer to that? Nino’s not afraid of heights.
If he were playing a game, now would be the point where Nino would pause and try to figure a strategy for his next goal. Nino doesn’t play real life like he plays games. He doesn’t plan for the future. He doesn’t bother with aspirations. Even though it feels like he’s been working for what he has for a long, long time, it’s not quite true. Nino has been working. And what he has came to him without Nino asking for it. He’s thankful, but it’s like being suddenly struck with a superpower: the entire world is shaking Nino’s hand for his good work, but all he’s thinking is that he’s just a stupid kid who lucked out of real life, thinking madly, “I hope I don’t screw this up,” but also, “what would happen if I did screw up?” and, “is this really what I was meant for?” and finally, “it might as well be, since I’m here.” The responsibility is heavy.
Arashi is so high right now. So, so high.
How long can it last? How far will they fall?
Maybe Nino should rethink things. Maybe he really does have a fear of heights.
Nino’s always enjoyed replaying Arashi’s conversations in his head, only tonight they apparently won’t stop talking. Why should his imagination be any different from real life, Nino thinks exasperatedly.
Nino’s the stupidest, Aiba is scolding. Arashi won’t fall. I won’t let it.
Aiba can’t do anything right by himself, Jun says. I suppose I’ll have to help too.
We’re not even high, Sho says, a note of panic in his voice. We’re standing on the ground. Nino, I would appreciate it if you stop making height-related metaphors. Why are you raising worries needlessly?
Why indeed, Nino wonders.
Nino, go to sleep, Ohno chides. You can talk to us for real tomorrow morning.
True enough, Nino thinks, and closes his eyes.
In the dark of the night, Nino pictures Sho with a family. A cute wife who doesn't wear tight clothing, and two boys and a little girl, just like the way he grew up. Nino pictures Aiba happy and healthy even as he starts to grey at the temples, laughing just as easily as he did as a teenager (and probably finding the same jokes funny). Nino imagines Jun going to the animal shelter and finally getting that dog he's always wanted -- a little one with fur that resembles Jun's own hairstyle. Nino imagines Ohno fishing on weekdays, weekends, and times in between; and out in the open waters, Ohno will dance alone on his boat, dance like he was made to, dance like he hasn't been able to since he was put in Arashi.
Nino pictures himself in the future being exactly the way he is now. The thought is comforting enough to lull him to sleep.
11.
It’s Sunday morning and when Nino finally trudges out of bed to answer the incessant knocking at the door, he’s surprised to see Aiba, dressed in sport clothes, eyes bright.
“Well?” Aiba says, grinning. “Come on, hurry up! I put reservations at 10. Some pipe blew up in the NTV building, so we’re free for the whole morning!”
“What?” Nino says.
“Golfing!” Aiba shouts. “Let’s go!”
Aiba wins by a large margin. His game’s improved a lot since last year - the guy has obviously been sneaking off to play when he shouldn’t have. Nino can’t begrudge him that; he actually felt pretty satisfied when he realized.
After golf, Nino heads to Jun’s favourite massage parlour. The massage helps more than he expects it to, but hell if Nino’s going to tell Jun that.
“I heard you’re down in the doldrums,” is the first thing his sister says when Nino picks up his phone. Nino debates hanging up on her.
“Are you going to give me a pep talk, nee-san?” Nino asks.
His sister scoffs. “As if I’ve got time for that. You may think you’re busy, Kazu, but you try taking care of a baby twenty-four hours a day. You know nothing about being tired.”
“Is this your way of asking me to babysit?”
“Honestly, Kazu,” his sister plows on, “you have to take better care of yourself. I don’t care what your excuse is; I don’t want my daughter growing up thinking that her uncle is a zombie.”
“I don’t look like a zombie on television.”
“You do when you come visit us.”
“I never do that.”
“A vampire, then.”
“Thanks for your call, nee-san,” Nino says.
“Kazu,” his sister interrupts. “Really. You’re losing weight, the photos can’t hide that. You didn’t even have any to lose. You have to start taking more care of your health now, while you’re still young.”
Nino wipes his chin thoughtfully. Young, hmm. “What would you have me do? I have commitments. So do the other members. We have schedules to keep. And it’s not like I can stop growing old.” See, this is just it. So Nino’s body is tired, fine. But Nino can’t do anything about it. He can’t just jump on a plane and fly to a tropical island. He can’t turn off his job for a day. He can only use the time he has the best he can, and right now, Nino is still relatively young. His health shouldn’t be his top concern.
“I don’t know. Get in a scandal. Go into hiding to avoid the fallout.”
Nino smirks. “And damage Arashi’s reputation?”
“Who cares?” his sister gripes. “It’s not like the others will be mad at you for it. If you guys make it to fifty, God willing, you’ll still be as sickeningly sweet together as you are right now.”
Nino hangs up feeling strangely reassured.
12.
During a break in their concert rehearsals, Sho wanders over to Nino and Ohno, sitting at the edge of the stage. “How are you guys feeling?” he asks, handing them water bottles.
“Fine,” Nino answers for both of them. “You’re working hard, as always. Look at your pit stains.”
Sho looks under his arms and laughs. “Yeah, well. I was actually referring to your back, though. Is it giving you any problems?”
Ohno turns his head to Nino and Nino shrugs. “No, I’ve started going to physio again.” Surprisingly, it’s true, and Nino thinks that Sho might know he’s telling the truth this time.
“That’s good,” Sho smiles. “I’m glad to hear that.” He narrows his eyes. “But you’re not skipping lunch to do that, are you?”
“No, I asked my manager to tweak my schedule. It just means a few more phone interviews per month.” Ohno’s shoulder bumps into Nino’s warmly. Nino bumps back.
“Good for Nino-chan,” Ohno murmurs. Nino tries not to be pleased.
“It’s almost the new year,” Sho sighs, crushing his water bottle absently. “How about I book a nice vacation for all of us? Realistically, we won’t get much time off next year, either, but maybe in 2011. Or 2012.”
“2020,” Ohno suggests.
“Done.” Sho grins at Nino. “You think you can hold on for another ten years?”
Nino smiles back. “What’s that saying about time flying?”
13.
The truth about Arashi is that they love being popular. Not in the narcissistic sense, but in the sense that they know it’s a measure of how far they’ve come. It’s a measure of how much work they’ve put into this group. It’s a product of their teamwork. They may not understand why they’re so loved now, but Nino can’t deny that it’s a good thing they are. Arashi’s a good thing, a great thing. The single greatest thing in Nino’s life. And Nino’s working on bettering his health, so Arashi will last longer. So even if Nino falls, he can pick himself back up again. There’s a cliché about time being what people make of it somewhere in here, but Nino’s not going to think about it, not right now. Not at a concert.
The platform all five of them are standing on hums and whirs and begins to rise to the stage. The crowd’s roar resounds in their ears, getting louder and louder. Thousands of people are chanting their names. Thousands of people, gathered together, to see the five of them skip around and try to keep a tune. There’s a familiar thrum of excitement in the air, and just like every time before the start of a concert, Nino has a brief lapse of intense nausea in his gut, threatening to ruin him. But he makes himself raise his head to feel the spotlight on his face; then the music is starting and Jun takes his cue and there, they’re off, and Nino is free to breathe. His grin is painfully large when he screams his hello, and the audience screams back to him. Nino pictures this as his key sprite: a win! Revitalization spot found! Energy restored! Proceed to the next level, you can do it! Jun catches his expression and tosses him a smirk. Nino spreads out his arms. See, he doesn’t say. This is our life, and he is fine.
Ninomiya, the idol, for rest of his days.
Thanks for reading. :) Comments/crit very appreciated.