RP FanFic: Lies
Title: Lies
Rating: G
Warning: N/A
Status: Complete
Characters: Nakai Masahiro, Kimura Takuya
Guest Appearances: Inagaki Goro, Kusanagi Tsuyoshi, Katori Shingo
Pairings/Friendship: Nakai Masahiro + Kimura Takuya
Timeline: Around a year after Mori Katsuyuki left SMAP
Summary: Nakai Masahiro couldn't help but wonder, when had he become such a liar?
A/N: None of the characters/actors belong to me. This work is purely fiction and does not reflect the real opinions/lifestyles of the person(s) involved. Comments and criticisms are welcomed. ENJOY! XD
LIES
‘Stop lying!’
All chatter came to an immediate halt as Kimura Takuya leaped to his feet, his sharp cheeks stained in high colour, his eyes shining with fury as rage oozed from every pore of his lithe body. Masahiro’s tongue froze in his mouth, all his words snatched from him, his very breath stolen, as he watched his fellow Member storm out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Goro hesitated for a momentary second before he too jumped from his chair, and followed, hot on Kimura’s heels. Tsuyoshi looked bewilderedly back-and-forth between the swinging door and Masahiro, his head swiveling even as the question marks seem to surround him.
Only Shingo seemed unfazed by what had just happened. Instead, he turned to Masahiro, his head cocked, his voice curious, ‘Where did you start lying?’
Lying was a harsh way of putting it. Over the years, Masahiro had become adept at stringing words together to make more than a sentence, witty, charming, sarcastic, teasing and always eloquent. Hidden nuances, cryptic remarks, half-truths, all weaved into jokes and answers, calculated to draw laughter and attention. It was his job, and lately, it had become a habit that carried over even into his personal affairs. The Members seemed to accept this. Goro only awkwardly laughed it off if Masahiro had hit a nerve with a taunt, and Shingo tended to just let it slide even if both he and Masahiro knew that his words was nothing but empty noise. Tsuyoshi was the only one who gave back as good as he got, his own interesting and mostly unintentionally controversial remarks, often demolishing Masahiro’s own walls. He often admired Tsuyoshi for this ability, the way he managed to draw Masahiro out with seemingly careless statements, so effective that even Masahiro’s own calculated strategies could not compare.
Sometimes, he even envied his Member, because where Tsuyoshi was all honesty, Masahiro was nothing but honeyed, crafted deceitfulness.
And maybe that was why Kimura rebelled.
All thoughts fled from his mind with the loud ‘CLICK!’ of the door. Shingo and Tsuyoshi stopped whispering even as along with the two, Masahiro looked towards the doorway where Goro stood. But, it was not him that Masahiro was interested in. Searching eyes revealed nothing.
Kimura was no where to be found.
‘Where’s Kimura-kun?’ Masahiro caught himself before jumping out of his skin. Trust Shingo to be the one to voice out the very question that was on his mind. Sometimes, it scared him how alike their thoughts were, even if they had their differences in personalities. Shingo had spared him from voicing out his thoughts, but the question still lingered in his eyes as he stared steadily at Goro.
Normally, such scrutiny would have conquered the meeker Member, with him giving in to Masahiro’s demands. But when it came to Kimura, gone was the Goro who quailed under his forcefulness. ‘I have no idea where he is,’ the younger boy said, his tone ever polite, but his voice artic, ‘You’ll have to look for him yourself.’
Masahiro could feel Shingo’s eyes on the back of his head even as Tsuyoshi joined Goro in a corner of the room. Shrugging in a flimsy attempt to seem nonchalant, Masahiro climbed deliberately to his feet and left the room.
As he walked down the corridors, sometimes even stopping to ask if anyone had seen the missing Member, his thoughts wandered back to Kimura. Of all the members, it was Kimura who most aggressively objected to the way he sometimes used his craft of words. While Masahiro did not see any harm in a little white lie, Kimura was headstrong in his honesty, a personality trait that had only heightened even more because of all the rumours that they were faced with every day. How many times had his fellow Member tried to talk him out of it, often stating that if they themselves participated in this parry of empty words, they would be no better than the gossip mongers who persecuted them? Where the rest of them would just let it go, or sometimes mildly remark upon it, Kimura tended to be a lot more forceful, piercing Masahiro to the core with his own sharp words and even sharper gaze. If Masahiro was in a forgiving mood, it would end in a mild argument. If he was not, bruised egos were the least of their worries.
Masahiro nearly, very literally walked over Kimura before he even realized that he had found his fellow Member, caught up as he was in his musings. He chuckled under his breath, wondering if it was Kimura’s magnetism or simply his predictability that had drawn Masahiro subconsciously to him. Kimura seemed to give no notice to his presence, cigarette held loosely between his fingers, his gaze on a spot far beyond the open window, but Masahiro knew the exact moment his existence had entered Kimura’s field of awareness as the other boy shifted to accommodate him. He leaned casually on the wall beside Kimura, all signs of amusement wiped off his every feature.
‘How did you know I was lying?’
The incredulous look directed at him was enough to make Masahiro regret his question. Of course he knew, just like how Masahiro had known that Kimura was waiting for him when Goro had walked back into the room alone. They had often joked of the signs that Masahiro projected when he was lying, such as the way he would fold his hands high against his chest, but all joking aside, it did not take a physical gesture for Kimura to catch on to him, often a second swifter, a step faster than the others. It was the way he just knew.
Which led to Masahiro’s next question, the one that he was thoroughly burning to ask.
‘Why now?’
All those times that he had lied, yes, Masahiro was now willing to admit to himself that he had been lying back in the dressing room, why did Kimura choose this particular time to confront him in such an explosive way? Because if there was a type of person that Masahiro loathed, it was the type of person who would spit out a remark; then, leave without giving his partner the chance to get an answer out. Kimura had known this, and he had used it to draw Masahiro’s attention to him. Enough was enough, and Kimura had made his point very clear when he chose not to stick around and give Masahiro the chance to talk his way out of it, when he chose to rob Masahiro of the one line of defense that Masahiro could erect around himself with ease.
His words.
The question hung in the air between them as Kimura turned to face Masahiro. ‘Why now?’ Kimura echoed at his Leader, a dangerous undercurrent of emotion seizing Masahiro’s complete attention. The atmosphere surrounding them sizzled with tension until Kimura sighed, and it all dissolved. Masahiro resisted the urge to flinch as he caught the fatigue in his Member’s eyes, his handsome face drawn from stress.
Kimura turned away, his gaze dropping, as he stubbed his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. ‘Because the Nakai I know does not need to rely on a web of lies to push himself to the top,’ he said, his eyes never leaving the ashtray, ‘and I wanted you to stop before all your successes are simply fabricated facades, and you have no idea who you are anymore.’
Masahiro froze. It was rare that they exchanged words, only the two of them, and even if they did, Masahiro could not remember a time when they had ever done a heart-to-heart. Their connection had always been one of wordless trust, the way they just understood, accepted and knew each other even before they could voice out the thoughts in their minds. It was why their partnership was so legendary, the way Masahiro knew when to back Kimura up if he fought for the group, the way Kimura knew when to take over when Masahiro needed a breather from being the leader. Sure, they had their fights, but when it came to the time that they needed each other most, the time when teamwork mattered more than anything, when it was SMAP against the world, and when Masahiro and Kimura were all that stood between their younger members and the people that sought to break them, they needed no words to communicate their needs to each other.
Maybe that was why Kimura’s solemn words hit him so hard, or maybe it was simply because the other boy had been brave enough to voice the very thing that Masahiro had been denying all this time. A little white lie once in a while didn’t hurt, but when a single lie became an intricate word game meant to confound, confuse and bedazzle, a habit even when he was amongst Members, Masahiro knew that he was on the path to no return, knew that he would soon lose sight of whatever shred of honesty he had left, especially when it came to the things that were precious to him.
When had he started on this downward spiral?
When the words you meant whole-heartedly for the first time became the biggest falsehoods you ever told, an insidious voice in his mind whispered. And even now, that dark thought, which he kept locked in a compartment of his heart never meant to be opened, still caused him the same amount of pain it did when the realization first struck. The only words he had ever meant with his whole being, the only words he had been willing to die to for the first time in all the years of his teenage life, those same words had betrayed him when Mori had left them.
‘I will not let SMAP disband.’
He had vowed to keep SMAP together when they had faced the worst CD sales in Johnnys’ history, and all of them were close to breaking down from being scolded, first by their voice instructor, then by their dance instructor, and every other instructor who had had the pleasure of training them. He had repeated those words like a mantra, to himself, to the Members when they stood in a concert hall that was nearly empty, when their voices echoed back at them because of silence and not because an audience response. He had vowed to keep SMAP together, and he had failed.
‘I will not let SMAP disband.’
Masahiro locked gazes with Kimura as the words etched into his heart, words that he had been unable to bring himself to say when he had failed in his role and responsibility as leader to keep the group intact, were given breath and life. His fellow Member’s eyes said it all. Even though they had all reassured him over and over again, that no, he had not failed, that he had tried his best, that it had not been in his control, it was only now that it sunk in. He could not trust himself to believe in those assurances because he had begun to lose sight of all that was precious to him, but on something this important, this significant, he knew that Kimura would never lie to him.
Kimura must have seen the change in his eyes, sensed the change in his being, because he broke the gaze that they shared to withdraw another cigarette from his pocket.
‘Light?’
Masahiro blinked as Kimura thrust the lighter into his face. The nonchalance in the gesture, the absolute normalcy, wiped away the remnants of the heaviness that had been weighing Masahiro down since the day that Mori had left. Even as he withdrew his own cigarette, his arm coming up to hide a smile, he couldn’t help but wonder. When did he forget?
A ‘CLICK!’ and the lighter flared to life as both Kimura and Masahiro leaned in to share a single flame, a single bond.
Mori may have left them, but the five of them still remained. Under the name of SMAP, they had continued to struggle, continued to climb the ladder to their goals. How could he have forgotten? SMAP was so much more than the physical number of members. It was the shared spirit that bound them together, the shared spirit that had kept them going despite all their trials and tribulations. That spirit had not disappeared, had not even weakened, over time and space. As long as that spirit did not flicker, SMAP had a fighting chance of survival.
'Neither will I.' Masahiro’s voice was strong, unwavering, fiery, determined.
Yes, he would not let SMAP disband.
And those words were not lies.
~OWARI~
Rating: G
Warning: N/A
Status: Complete
Characters: Nakai Masahiro, Kimura Takuya
Guest Appearances: Inagaki Goro, Kusanagi Tsuyoshi, Katori Shingo
Pairings/Friendship: Nakai Masahiro + Kimura Takuya
Timeline: Around a year after Mori Katsuyuki left SMAP
Summary: Nakai Masahiro couldn't help but wonder, when had he become such a liar?
A/N: None of the characters/actors belong to me. This work is purely fiction and does not reflect the real opinions/lifestyles of the person(s) involved. Comments and criticisms are welcomed. ENJOY! XD
LIES
‘Stop lying!’
All chatter came to an immediate halt as Kimura Takuya leaped to his feet, his sharp cheeks stained in high colour, his eyes shining with fury as rage oozed from every pore of his lithe body. Masahiro’s tongue froze in his mouth, all his words snatched from him, his very breath stolen, as he watched his fellow Member storm out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Goro hesitated for a momentary second before he too jumped from his chair, and followed, hot on Kimura’s heels. Tsuyoshi looked bewilderedly back-and-forth between the swinging door and Masahiro, his head swiveling even as the question marks seem to surround him.
Only Shingo seemed unfazed by what had just happened. Instead, he turned to Masahiro, his head cocked, his voice curious, ‘Where did you start lying?’
Lying was a harsh way of putting it. Over the years, Masahiro had become adept at stringing words together to make more than a sentence, witty, charming, sarcastic, teasing and always eloquent. Hidden nuances, cryptic remarks, half-truths, all weaved into jokes and answers, calculated to draw laughter and attention. It was his job, and lately, it had become a habit that carried over even into his personal affairs. The Members seemed to accept this. Goro only awkwardly laughed it off if Masahiro had hit a nerve with a taunt, and Shingo tended to just let it slide even if both he and Masahiro knew that his words was nothing but empty noise. Tsuyoshi was the only one who gave back as good as he got, his own interesting and mostly unintentionally controversial remarks, often demolishing Masahiro’s own walls. He often admired Tsuyoshi for this ability, the way he managed to draw Masahiro out with seemingly careless statements, so effective that even Masahiro’s own calculated strategies could not compare.
Sometimes, he even envied his Member, because where Tsuyoshi was all honesty, Masahiro was nothing but honeyed, crafted deceitfulness.
And maybe that was why Kimura rebelled.
All thoughts fled from his mind with the loud ‘CLICK!’ of the door. Shingo and Tsuyoshi stopped whispering even as along with the two, Masahiro looked towards the doorway where Goro stood. But, it was not him that Masahiro was interested in. Searching eyes revealed nothing.
Kimura was no where to be found.
‘Where’s Kimura-kun?’ Masahiro caught himself before jumping out of his skin. Trust Shingo to be the one to voice out the very question that was on his mind. Sometimes, it scared him how alike their thoughts were, even if they had their differences in personalities. Shingo had spared him from voicing out his thoughts, but the question still lingered in his eyes as he stared steadily at Goro.
Normally, such scrutiny would have conquered the meeker Member, with him giving in to Masahiro’s demands. But when it came to Kimura, gone was the Goro who quailed under his forcefulness. ‘I have no idea where he is,’ the younger boy said, his tone ever polite, but his voice artic, ‘You’ll have to look for him yourself.’
Masahiro could feel Shingo’s eyes on the back of his head even as Tsuyoshi joined Goro in a corner of the room. Shrugging in a flimsy attempt to seem nonchalant, Masahiro climbed deliberately to his feet and left the room.
As he walked down the corridors, sometimes even stopping to ask if anyone had seen the missing Member, his thoughts wandered back to Kimura. Of all the members, it was Kimura who most aggressively objected to the way he sometimes used his craft of words. While Masahiro did not see any harm in a little white lie, Kimura was headstrong in his honesty, a personality trait that had only heightened even more because of all the rumours that they were faced with every day. How many times had his fellow Member tried to talk him out of it, often stating that if they themselves participated in this parry of empty words, they would be no better than the gossip mongers who persecuted them? Where the rest of them would just let it go, or sometimes mildly remark upon it, Kimura tended to be a lot more forceful, piercing Masahiro to the core with his own sharp words and even sharper gaze. If Masahiro was in a forgiving mood, it would end in a mild argument. If he was not, bruised egos were the least of their worries.
Masahiro nearly, very literally walked over Kimura before he even realized that he had found his fellow Member, caught up as he was in his musings. He chuckled under his breath, wondering if it was Kimura’s magnetism or simply his predictability that had drawn Masahiro subconsciously to him. Kimura seemed to give no notice to his presence, cigarette held loosely between his fingers, his gaze on a spot far beyond the open window, but Masahiro knew the exact moment his existence had entered Kimura’s field of awareness as the other boy shifted to accommodate him. He leaned casually on the wall beside Kimura, all signs of amusement wiped off his every feature.
‘How did you know I was lying?’
The incredulous look directed at him was enough to make Masahiro regret his question. Of course he knew, just like how Masahiro had known that Kimura was waiting for him when Goro had walked back into the room alone. They had often joked of the signs that Masahiro projected when he was lying, such as the way he would fold his hands high against his chest, but all joking aside, it did not take a physical gesture for Kimura to catch on to him, often a second swifter, a step faster than the others. It was the way he just knew.
Which led to Masahiro’s next question, the one that he was thoroughly burning to ask.
‘Why now?’
All those times that he had lied, yes, Masahiro was now willing to admit to himself that he had been lying back in the dressing room, why did Kimura choose this particular time to confront him in such an explosive way? Because if there was a type of person that Masahiro loathed, it was the type of person who would spit out a remark; then, leave without giving his partner the chance to get an answer out. Kimura had known this, and he had used it to draw Masahiro’s attention to him. Enough was enough, and Kimura had made his point very clear when he chose not to stick around and give Masahiro the chance to talk his way out of it, when he chose to rob Masahiro of the one line of defense that Masahiro could erect around himself with ease.
His words.
The question hung in the air between them as Kimura turned to face Masahiro. ‘Why now?’ Kimura echoed at his Leader, a dangerous undercurrent of emotion seizing Masahiro’s complete attention. The atmosphere surrounding them sizzled with tension until Kimura sighed, and it all dissolved. Masahiro resisted the urge to flinch as he caught the fatigue in his Member’s eyes, his handsome face drawn from stress.
Kimura turned away, his gaze dropping, as he stubbed his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. ‘Because the Nakai I know does not need to rely on a web of lies to push himself to the top,’ he said, his eyes never leaving the ashtray, ‘and I wanted you to stop before all your successes are simply fabricated facades, and you have no idea who you are anymore.’
Masahiro froze. It was rare that they exchanged words, only the two of them, and even if they did, Masahiro could not remember a time when they had ever done a heart-to-heart. Their connection had always been one of wordless trust, the way they just understood, accepted and knew each other even before they could voice out the thoughts in their minds. It was why their partnership was so legendary, the way Masahiro knew when to back Kimura up if he fought for the group, the way Kimura knew when to take over when Masahiro needed a breather from being the leader. Sure, they had their fights, but when it came to the time that they needed each other most, the time when teamwork mattered more than anything, when it was SMAP against the world, and when Masahiro and Kimura were all that stood between their younger members and the people that sought to break them, they needed no words to communicate their needs to each other.
Maybe that was why Kimura’s solemn words hit him so hard, or maybe it was simply because the other boy had been brave enough to voice the very thing that Masahiro had been denying all this time. A little white lie once in a while didn’t hurt, but when a single lie became an intricate word game meant to confound, confuse and bedazzle, a habit even when he was amongst Members, Masahiro knew that he was on the path to no return, knew that he would soon lose sight of whatever shred of honesty he had left, especially when it came to the things that were precious to him.
When had he started on this downward spiral?
When the words you meant whole-heartedly for the first time became the biggest falsehoods you ever told, an insidious voice in his mind whispered. And even now, that dark thought, which he kept locked in a compartment of his heart never meant to be opened, still caused him the same amount of pain it did when the realization first struck. The only words he had ever meant with his whole being, the only words he had been willing to die to for the first time in all the years of his teenage life, those same words had betrayed him when Mori had left them.
‘I will not let SMAP disband.’
He had vowed to keep SMAP together when they had faced the worst CD sales in Johnnys’ history, and all of them were close to breaking down from being scolded, first by their voice instructor, then by their dance instructor, and every other instructor who had had the pleasure of training them. He had repeated those words like a mantra, to himself, to the Members when they stood in a concert hall that was nearly empty, when their voices echoed back at them because of silence and not because an audience response. He had vowed to keep SMAP together, and he had failed.
‘I will not let SMAP disband.’
Masahiro locked gazes with Kimura as the words etched into his heart, words that he had been unable to bring himself to say when he had failed in his role and responsibility as leader to keep the group intact, were given breath and life. His fellow Member’s eyes said it all. Even though they had all reassured him over and over again, that no, he had not failed, that he had tried his best, that it had not been in his control, it was only now that it sunk in. He could not trust himself to believe in those assurances because he had begun to lose sight of all that was precious to him, but on something this important, this significant, he knew that Kimura would never lie to him.
Kimura must have seen the change in his eyes, sensed the change in his being, because he broke the gaze that they shared to withdraw another cigarette from his pocket.
‘Light?’
Masahiro blinked as Kimura thrust the lighter into his face. The nonchalance in the gesture, the absolute normalcy, wiped away the remnants of the heaviness that had been weighing Masahiro down since the day that Mori had left. Even as he withdrew his own cigarette, his arm coming up to hide a smile, he couldn’t help but wonder. When did he forget?
A ‘CLICK!’ and the lighter flared to life as both Kimura and Masahiro leaned in to share a single flame, a single bond.
Mori may have left them, but the five of them still remained. Under the name of SMAP, they had continued to struggle, continued to climb the ladder to their goals. How could he have forgotten? SMAP was so much more than the physical number of members. It was the shared spirit that bound them together, the shared spirit that had kept them going despite all their trials and tribulations. That spirit had not disappeared, had not even weakened, over time and space. As long as that spirit did not flicker, SMAP had a fighting chance of survival.
'Neither will I.' Masahiro’s voice was strong, unwavering, fiery, determined.
Yes, he would not let SMAP disband.
And those words were not lies.
~OWARI~