Shaken
Title: Shaken
Rating: PG13-ish
Pairing: Touma/OC
Disclaimer: Johnny's owns Touma too.
Summary: Touma gets caught up in the earthquake, but the last person he's worried about is himself.
Note: Not betaed. This is for zolalupin, who donated money to the fundraising for Japan drive on arashi_on. m(__)m Thank you for your support.
Also, this is probably a little extreme and I don't claim to know what actually happened to the characters used in this story at that specific period in time.
Ikuta Touma was in his small apartment kitchen cooking dinner for his very special someone.
His very special someone was not part of Johnny's, surprisingly and also not surprisingly. He had certainly considered pursuing someone within the company, a particular dance artist with an incredibly cute smile that was proud of his strange sounding P nickname, but in the end he didn't because he wasn't sure that Yamashita felt the same and if had any issue with Touma's preferences, he could go right to the top and make his life hell (even though Touma knew that Yamapi would never do that, especially with how close they were now).
But at the very least he knew that he wasn't willing to risk their current relationship for something more, so he didn't. It wasn't quite love anyway, more like a grade-school crush on the first cute boy that ever talked to you, so Touma wasn't really caught up in his decision, more relieved that he didn't have to worry about putting his friend at risk as well (since they weren't supposed to have relationships at all, let alone something as scandalous as with another man).
And although Touma was worried about his reputation to some degree, first off all, if it was a third party it could easily be considered a rumor or simple gossip, something that almost anyone could make up with a shaky source, and second of all, he wasn't in the spot light now as much as he used to be.
Part of that was his own choice, focusing his time on his other hobbies like writing (and his lover), and the other part was simply fate. Touma wasn't as popular as other Johnny's. He could act, sure, and he was cute and could handle himself on variety shows, but unlike the bulk of his coworkers, he didn’t have his own concerts or CDs and because he had never “debuted” it was difficult to get closer to his fans like the other idols could.
That didn't mean that Touma didn't have his own niche, though. He had his drama breaks, and being outside of a group had it's positive sides, like having a freer schedule and getting more attention when he had it, and he still had friends and money and whatever he could want, so he couldn't complain now, even if he would have ten, or even five years ago.
And another perk was his ability to be discreet with things. If Ninomiya Kazunari was found in a gay bar it would be the front page news of every paper the next day, but if Touma was even recognized there he would be surprised (even if that hurt just a little bit on the inside).
So when Touma had been on that talk variety show as a guest, one of two or three for that day, he was able to make the move on that cameraman with the hot ass.
It hadn't been quite as direct as that, though. More like he had stared discreetly as he sat opposite the set, where they had put some folding tables for those not doing anything while they filmed the first segment. His target was wearing a towel tied around his head, and his features were hard to see with him only looking through the lens of the camera the entire time, but he had gauges in both ears, sort of small but enough to be noticeable, and his shoes, the only part of his outfit that wasn't standardized company wear, were Touma's favorite brand in a bold print.
Yes, despite not being able to see much of him, Touma liked him right away.
So when it was his turn to go on and be interrogated by the hosts, he had a hard time concentrating, knowing that the hot cameraman was looking at him the whole time, probably analyzing his own clothes and hair even though it had all been done for him by someone else, and all Touma could do was smile, because at least that was something that only he could do.
And then they were done and the man walked into the hallway, chatting with the director, and Touma didn't know what to do, because he really wanted to talk to him, but what would he say? They had nothing obvious in common, really, and people often got caught up on the fact that he worked for Johnny's, like that was a lifestyle instead of a job. And especially with someone as cool as this guy, Touma knew he would freeze up and get tongue tied and ruin any good impression he might have been able to conjure up normally.
In the end he just surrendered and went back to the dressing room. He didn't have any other work today, so he took his time, wiping off the makeup and brushing his hair a little to free it from the hairspray mold it had been left in, and double checked his own clothes before finally leaving, holding a pair of sunglasses in his hand, his preferred method of disguise even though he probably didn't need it.
There was a small chance that he would run into the other man in the hallway, so he walked as slowly and coolly as he could without seeming too strange, but he wasn't in the immediately vicinity, and Touma felt his heart drop even though he had so much farther to walk until he was out of the building.
Then he turned the corner and he was right there, standing in front of a table with a water cooler and coffee machine on top of it, holding a generic white plastic cup in his hand, taking a sip of hot liquid as he stared at the wall in thought.
And it was up to Touma because he could easily walk right past him now without saying anything, but he didn't want to do that, and even if he made an ass of himself, if he didn't try he would never know.
"Thanks for your hard work today," he called out with a smile, and the cameraman turned to look at him, lowering his cup and dipping his head in a gesture of thanks.
"You too. It was a very smooth run, wasn't it?"
His voice was deeper than Touma was expecting, but he liked it, and this guy's eyes were such a light color for being Japanese, a drawing shade of brown and a little gold, and his heart was speeding up.
"Thank you. Actually, I don't do shows like this that often. There's not much to interview me about unfortunately." Oh yeah, nice going. Pathetic right off the bat.
"No way. There must be a lot to discuss," the man laughed, taking a sip of his coffee and Touma was happy that he was giving such casual replies instead of the usual formality that he was shown by staff--and that he completely returned when it was called for. One thing that he was glad for as far as working for Johnny's was that each of them knew what kind of work was put into making things like this, and that they were drilled to be humble, because they were not the only reason that people watched the show, unlike a lot of other popular stars acted. They needed to respect the people behind the scenes just as much as their fans because otherwise it was a path that would only lead to failure as an idol.
"I'm pretty plain," Touma argued back weakly, blushing a little and biting his lip as he tried to come up with another conversation topic to move onto. Because in any other case he would have excused himself by this point in the conversation.
"I don't think so. You know…I've seen some of your modeling stuff before. In magazines and whatnot. I like your style," he replied in the same easy voice, smiling a little, and Touma's stomach fluttered as he tried to fathom what kind of pictures of him this amazing specimen of a man had seen.
"Ah..." he tried to reply, but he had gotten nervous and was only smiling and probably looking like an idiot. "I'm really honored. Thank you."
The cameraman didn't offer any more information than that, though, and so Touma was floundering again, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation moving.
"But, I mean, you know, they usually pick out the clothes for me during those sorts of things..." Dear Lord, he still sounded stupid and pathetic and was only negating the nice compliment he had received.
"If it didn't suit you, they wouldn't pick it," he countered, raising his cup a little and then glanced behind Touma at something and added, "Sorry, back to work for me."
"Wait!" Touma suddenly stiffened, stopping him with his arms out wide and the man almost jumped at the sudden movement and he knew he was making an ass of himself, but it had just come out so he had to go with it now. "Can I have... I don't know, your phone email or something?" he asked uncertainly, dropping his hands to his sides and glancing between the man and the coffee pot behind him as he waited for the answer.
"Sorry," he apologized with a forced smile, "I don't have time."
Touma stared down at his feet and was trying to mumble out his own apology, but before he could, the man spoke again.
"Why don't you leave yours at the reception desk for me? My name is Kazuki, but most people call me Zu."
Although there was small flicker of hope with that message, Touma stood aside and watched the technician jog down the hallway behind him, feeling overwhelmingly disappointed and embarrassed. Why had he done that?
Oh well. At least he didn't come to this studio very often, so the next time they had to work together, Kazuki would probably forget about him and everything would be back to normal.
It couldn't hurt to leave his address, though, right? He put his sunglasses on and started figuring out what he was going to say to the person manning the desk. Hey there. Zu said I could leave a message for him here, is that okay?
If he said it as coolly as it sounded in his head, he could probably pull it off without blushing so much that the display flowers caught on fire.
+++
Although Touma honestly wasn't expecting anything to come of it, almost a week later, once he had gotten over the rejection and returned to his normal lifestyle, he got an email from the man, short and simple, composed of only an apology for taking so long to get back to him and signed with a simple Zu at the bottom.
Of course he replied that it was no problem without thinking about it, and sorry for being strange, asking for his email like that, signed with just T because he wanted to be cool like Zu.
Another hour later, he got a reply that it wasn't strange and in fact, the strange part was that a famous person like Touma wanted to talk to him.
And they bantered back and forth for a while, Touma saying he wasn't actually that famous and that Zu probably met a lot of awesome people in his job, and Zu saying that it was the first time he'd been approached like that so straightforwardly, and Touma responded, teasingly, that his gauges probably scared people away, and Zu asked really?
You know, this conversation would be easier if I could call you.
Touma was looking at the screen with his composed mail. All he had to do was send it, but it was still being too forward wasn't it? First demanding his email and now that they had only talked a few days, asking for his number too? It had taken a week for Zu to contact him, so he was either tentative about the whole thing or very busy, and both things were indications that Touma shouldn't take this too fast. And he still didn't even know if this guy was interested in being more than friends or not.
But he sent it anyway, and the slightly delayed reply was How about you give me your number?
Looking up at the ceiling of his apartment, Touma sighed, wondering why he was being bullied into giving away his own information first again, but he typed in the number anyway and sent in, and surprisingly, right after he had taken a shower that night, he was getting a phone call and it was Zu, his voice the same as it had been before despite the static-y connection.
And then it was Touma’s turn to be pleased when Zu promptly invited him out for something to eat that night. He knew a nice place for ramen that was close to the station, he said, although he was sure it was cheap taste for a star like Touma, but he agreed immediately, promising to be there on time and then, when they hung up, promptly freaked out about what to wear.
Once they had met up, Zu mumbled something about just getting off of work, but Touma didn't think that he looked like it at all. He was wearing the same shoes from before, the ones that he liked, and jeans that were tight all the way down to his ankles, topped with a pink polo shirt and two or three necklaces visible underneath it. His hair, which had been hidden under a towel the first time they had met, was jet black, short and cut unevenly so that the sides were short but long in a strip in the middle where it almost went all the way to his eyebrows in bangs across his forehead.
When he noticed that Zu was a million more times attractive than he had originally thought, he wasn't sure he could stand anymore, so he rushed over to the ramen counter and sat down prematurely, trying to slow his erratic breathing and start thinking of ways to win him over instead of making a complete idiot of himself like he had before.
He managed to calm down while looking at the menu, glad that Zu had made a little space between them before taking his own seat because he might have hyperventilated from the close proximity otherwise. And once he realized that Zu had been the one to invite him out in the first place, he became comfortable enough to create a normal conversation, and by the time the night was coming to an end, Touma realized they had a lot more in common than he had anticipated, specifically their interest in fashion. Also, Zu was impressed that Touma was trying to write something while he was still working full time as an idol (even though he tried to convince him it wasn't as hard as it could be) and Touma was more than interested in Zu's job as a cameraman.
+++
Until their first kiss, it progressed slowly. Zu was just as shy as Touma was despite his cool attitude, and it turned out to be the truth that he couldn't believe that Touma actually wanted to talk to him. He had thought it was a joke, but he kept thinking about it during that week and eventually knew he had to try, and was happy he hadn't ignored him in the end, and Touma was too.
So they had been having meals on and off for a little while, although the topic of whether this was just friendly or not never came up, and then when Touma happened to see a flash of Zu's tongue ring while they were laughing about something or another in a bar, he couldn't stop staring after that, wondering what it would feel like against his, and he was confident enough right now to go for it, because he wasn't sure that Zu would after figuring out his personality over the last few weeks.
It was bugging him enough that he decided to take action that same night, insisting on walking Zu back to his one room flat even though it wasn't close to his own, and then when they arrived, he almost lost his nerve, not imagining the bright light that was shining over the doorstep, announcing their presence to the entire neighborhood.
With a knowing look, he was invited inside for one more quick drink, and they even managed to make it all the way through another beer, awkwardly, and then it was obviously time for him to leave, as it was so late, and Zu was walking him to the door and then suddenly it happened.
Touma gently pushed him against the wall and then froze even though he knew that Zu knew exactly where he was going and wasn't resisting, just looking at him with amusement and anticipation, and he just couldn't do it, couldn't make his head move those two extra inches.
They must have stood that way for five minutes, but Zu didn't budge and Touma knew it was up to him, and then he finally said, "I'm going to kiss you," not sure if he was buying time or making sure that what was going to happen was completely clear.
And then he replied, "Okay," in a soft, barely audible voice, and Touma managed to slide forward and touch his lips to Zu's thin ones.
+++
It was a year ago today that they had met for the first time in that recording studio. They had started officially dating some three odd months later (after their first kiss), but Touma was good at keeping track of dates, and when he had woken up yesterday and realized what today was, he had decided to make plans.
Yes, plans.
Plans that were put into action far earlier than he needed to, but he couldn’t really just sit around his apartment and not do anything until dinnertime because that would drive him crazy, so even if he just prepared everything before hand and then finished it all later, it would make him far less nervous than trying to guess how long everything would take and running the slight chance that his predictions would be off and he would be off and end up late.
Zu was coming over after work, which was slightly earlier than usual, at about six o’clock, and then they would eat dinner and then Touma knew exactly what they were going to do, because Zu had gotten a nipple piercing a month ago and although they had still been having sex, it was off limits because of the healing process, and Touma refrained from touching it as he didn’t want it to become infected because then he really couldn’t play with it, but he was going to tonight, yes he was. He had been looking forward to it since it happened (because after he had tasted that tongue ring all he wanted was more) and Zu was almost being a tease about it now, but it was the perfect night to burst the cherry of that nipple stud and Touma was already excited.
It wasn’t clear why he liked piercings so much other than Zu made them so sexy, because obviously he didn’t have any of his own, and Johnny did allow them, you just had to fill out several forms first before you went through with it. No, it was just something about his boyfriend that turned him on, especially when that tongue was around his-
Touma jumped when his phone started making a high pitched sound in his pocket, not anything that indicated a phone call or message, so he released his grip on the frying pan, in which he had been cooking an onion sauce for the potato side dish, and retrieved it, opening up something that he had only seen once or twice before in his life.
An earthquake warning.
Suddenly panicking, although it might not be so bad, Touma switched off the stove, leaving everything else in place, and just as the floor below him started shaking, he made it into the short hallway leading to his bath. It was one of the safest places, apparently, and he already knew it would be difficult to actually get outside of his tall apartment building, what with being on the twenty something-th floor (and that wasn’t even as high as it went). But he had several bookshelves that were not fixed in place to the wall (damn him and his laziness when he moved in!) and a very big TV and he didn’t want to get hurt if things started falling over.
Which they did. Before he even closed the door to the bath he heard a loud thump from his living room, and he was able to grab onto the edge of the tub, falling to his knees, as the worst part started.
Touma had never experienced anything like this before, despite having been in more earthquakes than he could count from the time he was an infant, and even though he had gotten more than used to the jumpy take-offs and landings of planes and their slightly scary turbulence, the shaking that was jolting his body right now made him fear for his own life up here on the twenty something-th floor as well as for all the rest of the people in Japan.
And it wasn’t stopping either. Not only was it strong, but it had been a full minute-two minutes-and it was still going, Touma in the mostly dark bath that was a little wet due to the leftover water from his shower that morning and the only reason he could see his bottle of shampoo inevitably fall over was because of the misted plastic pane of the window that made up most of the door.
Oh God, this was really bad. His pan must be on the floor now, ruining his sauce, and from the sound of it, his dishes had made it out of the upper cupboards too, and although he hadn’t been able to make out the oversized TV through all the noise, he figured that was one of the first things to go, right after his bookshelves.
And then finally, finally, it started to slow down. It didn’t stop, but it was weakening by the second, and Touma could feel himself become balanced again even though his head was spinning, and he held his breath as it suddenly became quiet, all of the crashing sounds from his apartment dying away to leave him with only the beating of his heart.
What the hell was that? He was trying to judge the size of the quake, but without knowing how far away he was from the epicenter, that was probably impossible. His phone should be able to tell him, though, or the TV or the computer.
But of course, the power was out, as it always was for precautionary purposes during large earthquakes. And as he walked out of the bath, his legs shaking, he was first met with the rest of his bathroom, a few bottles rolling on the floor at his feet, and then his bedroom, which was almost intact, but that was because there wasn’t much in there but clothes and his bed.
The living area, though... It definitely looked like an earthquake had just happened.
There was one bookcase still standing, but the CDs that had been on it were more than halfway scattered across the floor. The other two were face down, one spreading its previously occupying books around it in a small radius, and the TV was toast, just as he had predicted, also face down and stuck on the edge of his coffee table, but at least that was hearty enough to be completely unscathed despite the broken appliance.
And on his marble floor there were broken dishes of all sorts mixed with boxes of food that he had kept on the shelf, and, as expected, the potato sauce that he had abandoned five minutes ago jumbled with them.
It was after he had surveyed the damage that it became really disheartening, though.
Because if it was this bad here, what had happened to everyone else?
He pulled the phone from his pocket, his mind racing through his list of important people and he got stuck on one before he had even gotten through five.
Zu.
Zu was at the station right now, surrounded by and handling heavy equipment.
Although Touma had no doubt that the studio did all they could to make sure that everything was up to code and safe in a situation like this, Touma had never been in a situation like this, so how did he know if it would be okay or not? What if this huge quake had caused the lights to fall from the ceiling or something?
But of course, he couldn’t get through when he tried to call his boyfriend.
First it was just beeping, and then after he tried about fifteen times in a row, completely panicked, he finally got a message like the lines are too busy now, please try back later.
Of course everyone would be trying to use their phones after a disaster like that, especially with no power, but Touma begged the people around him to give up for just two seconds so he could make sure that Zu was alright and that nothing had happened to him.
And then he realized that people around him were probably exactly the same, trying to get a hold of their very important person.
Then the next message came. The earthquake was rated very high, and originated east. His parents would most likely be fine right now, along with the rest of his family, but they were predicting tsunamis, which Touma didn’t care about at the moment, and about a million aftershocks, some of which would be comparable to the original.
It was as he read that that another one started, seemingly just as bad as it had been before.
He darted back into the bathroom, his phone held tightly against his chest, and slid down the wall to crouch into the smallest position possible even though his ass got wet and it wasn’t as strong as it had been before, but it was long and he tried to call Zu again even while it was happening, but there was no chance and so he unsteadily typed out an email on his phone, hoping that would reach him when a call wouldn’t.
Then he pressed send and closed his eyes and tried not to cry, because if his apartment looked like this, all he could see was Zu body buried under tons of heavy iron filming equipment.
Even when the first aftershock stopped he stayed where he was. He didn’t know what to do except think, because he needed to think right now and figure out a game plan and not squander his resources and find some more information. The power would be back on soon and he could use his computer or turn on the news and take the train over to the studio himself and make sure his boyfriend was okay.
+++
Even after an hour the power didn’t come back.
Touma got an email from his brother surprisingly, that they were all worried about him, but it was only after he had hit the button to manually retrieve his waiting messages from the invisible bank in which they were stored that he even got that much (and although he was relieved, he had already figured they were all okay, and he was worried about Zu more than them at this second).
He had sent a million messages to his boyfriend to receive absolutely nothing in return (even from his other friends like Jun and Yamapi, and shit he was worried about them too, but at least he knew that Johnny was looking out for them), and he hadn’t gotten through on any of the phone calls he had tried to make either.
The wait was making him insane.
He was completely helpless.
He didn’t know what was happening with anyone, or if the earthquake was really as bad as they were saying, or if the tsunamis had hit yet or if buildings around him were collapsing (although he really doubted that, it was Japan after all), and he didn’t even have a car because Johnny had taken them all away after that second stupid accident from Arashi that could have been prevented and they were all paying for it now. Especially now. Because Touma couldn’t even charge his phone or listen to the radio or warm up later tonight when it got cold.
So he sat next to his window where the sun was still shining in so he had some light to work with and pulled out a pencil and unused notebook (because who really wrote by hand anymore?) and let himself go because even though he didn’t know about Zu, he just had to hope that everything would be okay and wait a little bit more.
And the words took longer to write than they came to his head, his other hand was made useless by holding his cell phone, turned off to save the battery for a potential crisis, but he was unable to bring himself to put it somewhere out of the way, just in case. When his hand started to cramp he looked out the window to the street and could already see the lines of cars outside of his apartment trying to go places, to make sure their special people were okay because of the sudden jammed lines and lack of means of communications.
Touma, too, thought about trying to hail a cab, but it looked impossible and he wasn’t quite so desperate yet, feeling slightly calm and even more so as he continued to write, losing himself in his story and releasing his tension a little, and then when he was done, done with the first thing that came to his head, he wrote a short paragraph about what had just happened to him and how worried he was about Zu.
Then it was time to turn his phone back on, to see if anything had changed or if he was simply lucky and would be allowed to contact someone he needed to after being forced to wait for so long.
It must have been fate. It wasn’t Zu, but Touma got his manager on the line, telling him he was fine and not injured, just that his apartment was a mess and that he was worried about someone and couldn’t he work something out to get a ride to the studio to check on his friend even though the roads were packed right now and that many people might not even be make it back home tonight despite how much they tried?
But the answer was no. There was no way to get a car over to him in this mess and his manager had his own family to worry about and Touma couldn’t bear to argue with him, because other people had important people too, not just him. Besides, if Zu was hurt he could have been taken to the hospital already, or maybe he wasn’t even at the studio, although he should have been, and it was a crisis right now and Touma knew he shouldn’t waste his resources.
So he answered a few simple questions, enabling his manager to pass on the message that he was okay and he was promised that if nothing improved by nightfall that some way, some how he would be brought food and water even though Touma assured him those were not really items he thought he needed right now.
And then it was back to waiting.
The battery on his cell phone still had half life and he was thinking that enough time had passed that the congestion might have died down or that Zu was trying just as hard to get a hold of him as Touma was, so he left it on, only trying the number every half an hour and sending a few messages too (he had finally gotten one from Jun, although Yamapi was still apparently unaccounted for by the company, as his manager had mentioned, and Touma was worried about that too, enough that when he was frustrated he would call Tomohisa’s number instead of Zu’s).
It must have been his body going into survival mode, because when he was finally jarred out of his depression, closing the latest no new messages screen from his mobile, his eyes landed on the kitchen and he realized that it was a mess and that he was hungry.
First he surveyed the damage again, having touched nothing since he had taken up his seat by the window, and then bent over to begin figuring out what was broken and not. He’d have to wash them all before he put them away, but there were some porcelain shards that were pretty obvious, so he put on his house slippers and cautiously stepped over the mess to retrieve a garbage bag and distract himself again.
A lot of the dishes were intact, so he began organizing the plates and bowls into a pile to be washed, as soon as he knew how bad the emergency situation was and how long he would be without heat or if water was going to be scarce (it was still running now, but who knew?) but there were more glasses broken than not, so most of those went straight into his bag. Another tremor started again at that point, so he abandoned the freshly straightened cutlery to instead dart into the doorway, as this one didn’t seem nearly as bad as the previous ones (and it wasn’t) and just closed his eyes as the floor beneath him swayed.
But nothing more fell than was already on the floor, and once he calmed down, taking deep breaths and grabbing his stomach, he made his way back into the kitchen to continue, already feeling used to all of the aftershocks.
As he finished sweeping up the mess, the sun was setting. It wasn’t late, probably not even six yet--his promised meeting time with Zu--but with the sun went his light and Touma’s replacement for that was a flashlight that was kept under his sink, not to be used in the course of its life up until now. He wasn’t even sure if the batteries worked. But he also had one or two candles from Jun, so he decided after eating something that he would search for those before it became too difficult, even if he didn’t use them.
All of the food was salvageable, except for a box of crackers that had been half eaten already and then spilled over the floor in his descent (Touma closed the box and threw the rest away) and one unfortunate bottle of jam, but his fridge was fine after a little rearranging, even though Touma didn’t check the freezer for fear that everything in it would start to defrost immediately. There was still a lot more to clean up, but somehow knowing that he could do it later, or that it was something to keep him distracted when he needed it, made him put it off even longer. Instead he ate a banana as he made his way to his bedroom, checking his phone and trying to call Zu again, and wasted ten minutes looking around for the scented candles that he never thought he would use. Ever.
Right after he found them he realized he needed matches or a lighter to even use them, and then his phone rang.
“Hello?” His voice was ragged and he didn’t even bother to check the identity of the caller, desperate for anything. The candles had been dropped to the floor in his haste, but they were forgotten immediately as Touma waited for an answer.
“Th-thank God.”
“Yamapi? Are you okay?” Although it wasn’t who he wanted it to be, Touma was still worried about his friend, especially because of the tone of his voice, sort of raw and shaking like he had been using it too much.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t get a hold of anyone, though. I’ve been trying to call my manager, my mom, you, Kame… Anyone I could think of. But this was the first time I’ve gotten through.” His voice turned a little relieved, but then wavered immediately, as if the emotion was overwhelming him and he was keeping himself from losing control completely.
“Tell me about it,” Touma laughed wryly, hoping that the fact that he had become almost numb since this whole thing started would help his friend stay composed. “Are you sure you aren’t injured or something?”
“Just shaken. I’m in the studio right now and some equipment fell over,” he replied slowly, and Touma’s heart stopped beating.
“God…” came out in an incredulous sigh and he slid to the floor where he was, closing his eyes and trying not to completely break down again, the empty shell he had temporarily become abandoned for panic once again. “Was anyone hurt?”
“We couldn’t get out. This building is so big, when the real shaking started, all I could do was get under a table in the break room.”
“Was anyone hurt?” he repeated in a lower voice, looking for a more specific answer.
Of course Zu wouldn’t be working with Yamapi-that would be too much of a coincidence-but if Touma was reassured about the state of a studio for an earthquake of this size, he might be able to get the image of his boyfriend’s dead body far away enough to last through the night.
“No. Well, I mean, we’ll all have a few bruises and whatnot-Touma, are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m at my apartment, I have been all day. Just a few broken things, that’s all,” he replied quickly, his mind already speeding with what he needed to do with this conversation. Yamapi was okay, but it was important to let someone at the company know that fact, and they probably needed to find a way to get him someplace safe as well. “You’re still at the studio? Which one?”
“Yeah… I can’t find a way to get home and I couldn’t contact anyone. I was going to wait to see if they started filming again, but after an hour of aftershocks they called the whole thing off to be rescheduled. I want to go home, but I can’t get there, Touma.”
And then he mentioned the studio he was at and Touma felt like he’d been hit with a semi truck.
“Tomohisa-“ he had to take a deep breath first, force himself to keep from falling over that edge of hysteria, “I’m really sorry to ask this, but my good friend works there and I haven’t been able to get a hold of him either.”
Instead of acting offended that Touma was asking for favors in this extreme situation, Yamapi seemed to understand the sentiment exactly. “What’s his name? Where does he work?”
And so he told him, and Yamapi kept him on the line as he jogged through the building and Touma whispered, “If I were there, I would kiss you,” quite seriously, but his friend laughed and he laughed and it seemed like that heavy shadow sitting over him since this all happened was lifting a little.
When he finally made it to the filming room where Zu worked, Yamapi was out of breath and the conversation he had with someone was muffled as he politely covered his phone, but Touma could hear enough that when the words were confirmed a moment later, his mind went blank.
“She said he was taken to the hospital, Touma. They were moving something when the earthquake started.”
That horrific image of Zu’s unmoving body was back, and this time so much more realistic than it had been.
But he managed to choke out, “What hospital?” that automatic, smart part of his brain taking over for the rest of him as he stared at the bed, which was almost completely covered in shadow due to lack of light.
Yamapi relayed the question and then the answer and Touma managed a small thank you as he started making a new game plan.
“I’m really sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
No, Yamapi had his own things to deal with and so did the rest of Japan. It was best to finish the conversation and let someone else make a phone call because they had already been on the line quite long enough and had finished with all the important things as well.
“It’s fine. Is there anything you need help with? If I talk to anyone else I’ll try to pass on the message that you’re okay.”
“That’s enough. I guess I’ll just stay here until something changes.”
“Thank you, Pi.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Me too. Be careful. Watch out for aftershocks.”
“Same for you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Of course he was going to. But he didn’t have to admit it.
And then they hung up and Touma was running around the house frantically, collecting anything he thought he would need to take with him to the hospital, shoving it into his designer backpack; a bottle of water, some crackers, his candles and flashlight, and of course his wallet and any money he had laying around.
His bike was in the parking garage, locked in the designated area, and even though he only had a vague idea where that particular hospital was and it would take him a full hour to get there anyway via cycling, it was something he could do, so he did.
Sweat had soaked through every inch of his skin by the time he arrived at his destination, only taking a break for stoplights (why were they working when the power was out?) and the one quick trip to the convenience store to get some bread and energy bars (there were still clerks working despite the darkness and lack of registers and Touma was thankful to them for their tenacity) just in case there was nothing at the hospital.
When he rushed inside, the emergency room already packed as full as it could be, it took him a full five minutes to make it through the crowd and to where he could talk with a staff member, but the woman sighed at him and shook her head, indicating that she couldn’t be able to help him at all. He was given a short, rehearsed explanation that people in the most critical condition were properly treated in the rooms and that others were being treated in the hallways or even outside the building, depending. But Touma didn’t know what kind of injury Zu had, and just giving his name got him nowhere, so instead he started down the hallway, talking with the people that were waiting there, laying on blankets in rows.
He had a slightly blurry picture of Zu on his phone, so he started with that and a verbal description, but although it was obvious the people he asked wanted to help him, they hadn’t seen him (and there was no way they could forget someone as eccentric as Zu).
But the hospital was warm with so many people inside, and it had emergency power as well, so even though there were a lot of people and Touma was feeling helpless, it was better than sitting at his apartment, alone in the dark.
It took a long time.
And the only reason he even had a breakthrough was because an old woman, who was there with her husband, had taken pity on him and insisted on helping, pulling over a doctor and forcing him to at least look at Touma’s picture even though it was obvious he was busy doing other things.
Even though he eventually gave in and looked, he ended up pulling over another nurse, a young woman who looked haggard, and pushing the situation off on her, but she had seen Zu and so Touma gave the old woman a tight hug before immediately following the woman’s directions to head up to the third floor.
As he sprinted up the stairs another tremor started, but he didn’t react at all to the shaking, barely feeling it in the first place, and started his search once again, hopefully closer to where Zu actually was.
He tried to look around first, but there were a lot of people up here too, although not as many as downstairs, and after a few moments, managed to flag down another employee, this one a pimple-scarred intern with a mop and bucket, and although he shrugged first, too tired to take much interest, in the end he pointed down the hallway and Touma took off.
It was more than halfway down the line of blankets on the floor, a different patterned type from the ones downstairs, but there was Zu, laid out on the ground between a woman with her child and another man about their age, and he didn’t look up until Touma was standing at his feet, breathing heavily and trying not to give in to shock.
“Touma,” he whispered with wide eyes that were colored with exhaustion, and then Touma fell to the ground, wrapping his boyfriend in his arms.
“Thank God,” he almost sobbed, letting his emotions go now that he had reached his goal of finding Zu, who was conscious and alive.
The arms around his back, holding him just as tightly, grasped onto his shirt and there was a distinct wetness at his neck, and Touma wasn’t sure whether that was lips or tears (and it didn’t matter).
+++
A/N: Well, first of all, this is somewhat based on my own experiences, although a little exaggerated. Second of all, as mentioned, I don't claim to know what happened to any Johnny's members during the time of the earthquake. Third, it's been a long time since I've written an original character. ^_^ It was pretty fun. I think the hard part about doing it is to not make them perfect, and although Zu was pretty perfect, his presence in the story was very specific so I don't care. Last, I'm pretty sure that this probably seems half finished... like I didn't go into what happened afterwards or whatnot. But, you know, I just wrote until I was like, "Oh. That's the end."
Thank you for reading. For those of you waiting for something from me, I appreciate your patience. I am back in Japan now after being home in America for two weeks, so hopefully I'll have some time to catch up.
EDIT 4/8: Ironically, another sizeable earthquake hit about twenty minutes after I posted this. =A=
Rating: PG13-ish
Pairing: Touma/OC
Disclaimer: Johnny's owns Touma too.
Summary: Touma gets caught up in the earthquake, but the last person he's worried about is himself.
Note: Not betaed. This is for zolalupin, who donated money to the fundraising for Japan drive on arashi_on. m(__)m Thank you for your support.
Also, this is probably a little extreme and I don't claim to know what actually happened to the characters used in this story at that specific period in time.
Ikuta Touma was in his small apartment kitchen cooking dinner for his very special someone.
His very special someone was not part of Johnny's, surprisingly and also not surprisingly. He had certainly considered pursuing someone within the company, a particular dance artist with an incredibly cute smile that was proud of his strange sounding P nickname, but in the end he didn't because he wasn't sure that Yamashita felt the same and if had any issue with Touma's preferences, he could go right to the top and make his life hell (even though Touma knew that Yamapi would never do that, especially with how close they were now).
But at the very least he knew that he wasn't willing to risk their current relationship for something more, so he didn't. It wasn't quite love anyway, more like a grade-school crush on the first cute boy that ever talked to you, so Touma wasn't really caught up in his decision, more relieved that he didn't have to worry about putting his friend at risk as well (since they weren't supposed to have relationships at all, let alone something as scandalous as with another man).
And although Touma was worried about his reputation to some degree, first off all, if it was a third party it could easily be considered a rumor or simple gossip, something that almost anyone could make up with a shaky source, and second of all, he wasn't in the spot light now as much as he used to be.
Part of that was his own choice, focusing his time on his other hobbies like writing (and his lover), and the other part was simply fate. Touma wasn't as popular as other Johnny's. He could act, sure, and he was cute and could handle himself on variety shows, but unlike the bulk of his coworkers, he didn’t have his own concerts or CDs and because he had never “debuted” it was difficult to get closer to his fans like the other idols could.
That didn't mean that Touma didn't have his own niche, though. He had his drama breaks, and being outside of a group had it's positive sides, like having a freer schedule and getting more attention when he had it, and he still had friends and money and whatever he could want, so he couldn't complain now, even if he would have ten, or even five years ago.
And another perk was his ability to be discreet with things. If Ninomiya Kazunari was found in a gay bar it would be the front page news of every paper the next day, but if Touma was even recognized there he would be surprised (even if that hurt just a little bit on the inside).
So when Touma had been on that talk variety show as a guest, one of two or three for that day, he was able to make the move on that cameraman with the hot ass.
It hadn't been quite as direct as that, though. More like he had stared discreetly as he sat opposite the set, where they had put some folding tables for those not doing anything while they filmed the first segment. His target was wearing a towel tied around his head, and his features were hard to see with him only looking through the lens of the camera the entire time, but he had gauges in both ears, sort of small but enough to be noticeable, and his shoes, the only part of his outfit that wasn't standardized company wear, were Touma's favorite brand in a bold print.
Yes, despite not being able to see much of him, Touma liked him right away.
So when it was his turn to go on and be interrogated by the hosts, he had a hard time concentrating, knowing that the hot cameraman was looking at him the whole time, probably analyzing his own clothes and hair even though it had all been done for him by someone else, and all Touma could do was smile, because at least that was something that only he could do.
And then they were done and the man walked into the hallway, chatting with the director, and Touma didn't know what to do, because he really wanted to talk to him, but what would he say? They had nothing obvious in common, really, and people often got caught up on the fact that he worked for Johnny's, like that was a lifestyle instead of a job. And especially with someone as cool as this guy, Touma knew he would freeze up and get tongue tied and ruin any good impression he might have been able to conjure up normally.
In the end he just surrendered and went back to the dressing room. He didn't have any other work today, so he took his time, wiping off the makeup and brushing his hair a little to free it from the hairspray mold it had been left in, and double checked his own clothes before finally leaving, holding a pair of sunglasses in his hand, his preferred method of disguise even though he probably didn't need it.
There was a small chance that he would run into the other man in the hallway, so he walked as slowly and coolly as he could without seeming too strange, but he wasn't in the immediately vicinity, and Touma felt his heart drop even though he had so much farther to walk until he was out of the building.
Then he turned the corner and he was right there, standing in front of a table with a water cooler and coffee machine on top of it, holding a generic white plastic cup in his hand, taking a sip of hot liquid as he stared at the wall in thought.
And it was up to Touma because he could easily walk right past him now without saying anything, but he didn't want to do that, and even if he made an ass of himself, if he didn't try he would never know.
"Thanks for your hard work today," he called out with a smile, and the cameraman turned to look at him, lowering his cup and dipping his head in a gesture of thanks.
"You too. It was a very smooth run, wasn't it?"
His voice was deeper than Touma was expecting, but he liked it, and this guy's eyes were such a light color for being Japanese, a drawing shade of brown and a little gold, and his heart was speeding up.
"Thank you. Actually, I don't do shows like this that often. There's not much to interview me about unfortunately." Oh yeah, nice going. Pathetic right off the bat.
"No way. There must be a lot to discuss," the man laughed, taking a sip of his coffee and Touma was happy that he was giving such casual replies instead of the usual formality that he was shown by staff--and that he completely returned when it was called for. One thing that he was glad for as far as working for Johnny's was that each of them knew what kind of work was put into making things like this, and that they were drilled to be humble, because they were not the only reason that people watched the show, unlike a lot of other popular stars acted. They needed to respect the people behind the scenes just as much as their fans because otherwise it was a path that would only lead to failure as an idol.
"I'm pretty plain," Touma argued back weakly, blushing a little and biting his lip as he tried to come up with another conversation topic to move onto. Because in any other case he would have excused himself by this point in the conversation.
"I don't think so. You know…I've seen some of your modeling stuff before. In magazines and whatnot. I like your style," he replied in the same easy voice, smiling a little, and Touma's stomach fluttered as he tried to fathom what kind of pictures of him this amazing specimen of a man had seen.
"Ah..." he tried to reply, but he had gotten nervous and was only smiling and probably looking like an idiot. "I'm really honored. Thank you."
The cameraman didn't offer any more information than that, though, and so Touma was floundering again, trying to think of something to say to keep the conversation moving.
"But, I mean, you know, they usually pick out the clothes for me during those sorts of things..." Dear Lord, he still sounded stupid and pathetic and was only negating the nice compliment he had received.
"If it didn't suit you, they wouldn't pick it," he countered, raising his cup a little and then glanced behind Touma at something and added, "Sorry, back to work for me."
"Wait!" Touma suddenly stiffened, stopping him with his arms out wide and the man almost jumped at the sudden movement and he knew he was making an ass of himself, but it had just come out so he had to go with it now. "Can I have... I don't know, your phone email or something?" he asked uncertainly, dropping his hands to his sides and glancing between the man and the coffee pot behind him as he waited for the answer.
"Sorry," he apologized with a forced smile, "I don't have time."
Touma stared down at his feet and was trying to mumble out his own apology, but before he could, the man spoke again.
"Why don't you leave yours at the reception desk for me? My name is Kazuki, but most people call me Zu."
Although there was small flicker of hope with that message, Touma stood aside and watched the technician jog down the hallway behind him, feeling overwhelmingly disappointed and embarrassed. Why had he done that?
Oh well. At least he didn't come to this studio very often, so the next time they had to work together, Kazuki would probably forget about him and everything would be back to normal.
It couldn't hurt to leave his address, though, right? He put his sunglasses on and started figuring out what he was going to say to the person manning the desk. Hey there. Zu said I could leave a message for him here, is that okay?
If he said it as coolly as it sounded in his head, he could probably pull it off without blushing so much that the display flowers caught on fire.
+++
Although Touma honestly wasn't expecting anything to come of it, almost a week later, once he had gotten over the rejection and returned to his normal lifestyle, he got an email from the man, short and simple, composed of only an apology for taking so long to get back to him and signed with a simple Zu at the bottom.
Of course he replied that it was no problem without thinking about it, and sorry for being strange, asking for his email like that, signed with just T because he wanted to be cool like Zu.
Another hour later, he got a reply that it wasn't strange and in fact, the strange part was that a famous person like Touma wanted to talk to him.
And they bantered back and forth for a while, Touma saying he wasn't actually that famous and that Zu probably met a lot of awesome people in his job, and Zu saying that it was the first time he'd been approached like that so straightforwardly, and Touma responded, teasingly, that his gauges probably scared people away, and Zu asked really?
You know, this conversation would be easier if I could call you.
Touma was looking at the screen with his composed mail. All he had to do was send it, but it was still being too forward wasn't it? First demanding his email and now that they had only talked a few days, asking for his number too? It had taken a week for Zu to contact him, so he was either tentative about the whole thing or very busy, and both things were indications that Touma shouldn't take this too fast. And he still didn't even know if this guy was interested in being more than friends or not.
But he sent it anyway, and the slightly delayed reply was How about you give me your number?
Looking up at the ceiling of his apartment, Touma sighed, wondering why he was being bullied into giving away his own information first again, but he typed in the number anyway and sent in, and surprisingly, right after he had taken a shower that night, he was getting a phone call and it was Zu, his voice the same as it had been before despite the static-y connection.
And then it was Touma’s turn to be pleased when Zu promptly invited him out for something to eat that night. He knew a nice place for ramen that was close to the station, he said, although he was sure it was cheap taste for a star like Touma, but he agreed immediately, promising to be there on time and then, when they hung up, promptly freaked out about what to wear.
Once they had met up, Zu mumbled something about just getting off of work, but Touma didn't think that he looked like it at all. He was wearing the same shoes from before, the ones that he liked, and jeans that were tight all the way down to his ankles, topped with a pink polo shirt and two or three necklaces visible underneath it. His hair, which had been hidden under a towel the first time they had met, was jet black, short and cut unevenly so that the sides were short but long in a strip in the middle where it almost went all the way to his eyebrows in bangs across his forehead.
When he noticed that Zu was a million more times attractive than he had originally thought, he wasn't sure he could stand anymore, so he rushed over to the ramen counter and sat down prematurely, trying to slow his erratic breathing and start thinking of ways to win him over instead of making a complete idiot of himself like he had before.
He managed to calm down while looking at the menu, glad that Zu had made a little space between them before taking his own seat because he might have hyperventilated from the close proximity otherwise. And once he realized that Zu had been the one to invite him out in the first place, he became comfortable enough to create a normal conversation, and by the time the night was coming to an end, Touma realized they had a lot more in common than he had anticipated, specifically their interest in fashion. Also, Zu was impressed that Touma was trying to write something while he was still working full time as an idol (even though he tried to convince him it wasn't as hard as it could be) and Touma was more than interested in Zu's job as a cameraman.
+++
Until their first kiss, it progressed slowly. Zu was just as shy as Touma was despite his cool attitude, and it turned out to be the truth that he couldn't believe that Touma actually wanted to talk to him. He had thought it was a joke, but he kept thinking about it during that week and eventually knew he had to try, and was happy he hadn't ignored him in the end, and Touma was too.
So they had been having meals on and off for a little while, although the topic of whether this was just friendly or not never came up, and then when Touma happened to see a flash of Zu's tongue ring while they were laughing about something or another in a bar, he couldn't stop staring after that, wondering what it would feel like against his, and he was confident enough right now to go for it, because he wasn't sure that Zu would after figuring out his personality over the last few weeks.
It was bugging him enough that he decided to take action that same night, insisting on walking Zu back to his one room flat even though it wasn't close to his own, and then when they arrived, he almost lost his nerve, not imagining the bright light that was shining over the doorstep, announcing their presence to the entire neighborhood.
With a knowing look, he was invited inside for one more quick drink, and they even managed to make it all the way through another beer, awkwardly, and then it was obviously time for him to leave, as it was so late, and Zu was walking him to the door and then suddenly it happened.
Touma gently pushed him against the wall and then froze even though he knew that Zu knew exactly where he was going and wasn't resisting, just looking at him with amusement and anticipation, and he just couldn't do it, couldn't make his head move those two extra inches.
They must have stood that way for five minutes, but Zu didn't budge and Touma knew it was up to him, and then he finally said, "I'm going to kiss you," not sure if he was buying time or making sure that what was going to happen was completely clear.
And then he replied, "Okay," in a soft, barely audible voice, and Touma managed to slide forward and touch his lips to Zu's thin ones.
+++
It was a year ago today that they had met for the first time in that recording studio. They had started officially dating some three odd months later (after their first kiss), but Touma was good at keeping track of dates, and when he had woken up yesterday and realized what today was, he had decided to make plans.
Yes, plans.
Plans that were put into action far earlier than he needed to, but he couldn’t really just sit around his apartment and not do anything until dinnertime because that would drive him crazy, so even if he just prepared everything before hand and then finished it all later, it would make him far less nervous than trying to guess how long everything would take and running the slight chance that his predictions would be off and he would be off and end up late.
Zu was coming over after work, which was slightly earlier than usual, at about six o’clock, and then they would eat dinner and then Touma knew exactly what they were going to do, because Zu had gotten a nipple piercing a month ago and although they had still been having sex, it was off limits because of the healing process, and Touma refrained from touching it as he didn’t want it to become infected because then he really couldn’t play with it, but he was going to tonight, yes he was. He had been looking forward to it since it happened (because after he had tasted that tongue ring all he wanted was more) and Zu was almost being a tease about it now, but it was the perfect night to burst the cherry of that nipple stud and Touma was already excited.
It wasn’t clear why he liked piercings so much other than Zu made them so sexy, because obviously he didn’t have any of his own, and Johnny did allow them, you just had to fill out several forms first before you went through with it. No, it was just something about his boyfriend that turned him on, especially when that tongue was around his-
Touma jumped when his phone started making a high pitched sound in his pocket, not anything that indicated a phone call or message, so he released his grip on the frying pan, in which he had been cooking an onion sauce for the potato side dish, and retrieved it, opening up something that he had only seen once or twice before in his life.
An earthquake warning.
Suddenly panicking, although it might not be so bad, Touma switched off the stove, leaving everything else in place, and just as the floor below him started shaking, he made it into the short hallway leading to his bath. It was one of the safest places, apparently, and he already knew it would be difficult to actually get outside of his tall apartment building, what with being on the twenty something-th floor (and that wasn’t even as high as it went). But he had several bookshelves that were not fixed in place to the wall (damn him and his laziness when he moved in!) and a very big TV and he didn’t want to get hurt if things started falling over.
Which they did. Before he even closed the door to the bath he heard a loud thump from his living room, and he was able to grab onto the edge of the tub, falling to his knees, as the worst part started.
Touma had never experienced anything like this before, despite having been in more earthquakes than he could count from the time he was an infant, and even though he had gotten more than used to the jumpy take-offs and landings of planes and their slightly scary turbulence, the shaking that was jolting his body right now made him fear for his own life up here on the twenty something-th floor as well as for all the rest of the people in Japan.
And it wasn’t stopping either. Not only was it strong, but it had been a full minute-two minutes-and it was still going, Touma in the mostly dark bath that was a little wet due to the leftover water from his shower that morning and the only reason he could see his bottle of shampoo inevitably fall over was because of the misted plastic pane of the window that made up most of the door.
Oh God, this was really bad. His pan must be on the floor now, ruining his sauce, and from the sound of it, his dishes had made it out of the upper cupboards too, and although he hadn’t been able to make out the oversized TV through all the noise, he figured that was one of the first things to go, right after his bookshelves.
And then finally, finally, it started to slow down. It didn’t stop, but it was weakening by the second, and Touma could feel himself become balanced again even though his head was spinning, and he held his breath as it suddenly became quiet, all of the crashing sounds from his apartment dying away to leave him with only the beating of his heart.
What the hell was that? He was trying to judge the size of the quake, but without knowing how far away he was from the epicenter, that was probably impossible. His phone should be able to tell him, though, or the TV or the computer.
But of course, the power was out, as it always was for precautionary purposes during large earthquakes. And as he walked out of the bath, his legs shaking, he was first met with the rest of his bathroom, a few bottles rolling on the floor at his feet, and then his bedroom, which was almost intact, but that was because there wasn’t much in there but clothes and his bed.
The living area, though... It definitely looked like an earthquake had just happened.
There was one bookcase still standing, but the CDs that had been on it were more than halfway scattered across the floor. The other two were face down, one spreading its previously occupying books around it in a small radius, and the TV was toast, just as he had predicted, also face down and stuck on the edge of his coffee table, but at least that was hearty enough to be completely unscathed despite the broken appliance.
And on his marble floor there were broken dishes of all sorts mixed with boxes of food that he had kept on the shelf, and, as expected, the potato sauce that he had abandoned five minutes ago jumbled with them.
It was after he had surveyed the damage that it became really disheartening, though.
Because if it was this bad here, what had happened to everyone else?
He pulled the phone from his pocket, his mind racing through his list of important people and he got stuck on one before he had even gotten through five.
Zu.
Zu was at the station right now, surrounded by and handling heavy equipment.
Although Touma had no doubt that the studio did all they could to make sure that everything was up to code and safe in a situation like this, Touma had never been in a situation like this, so how did he know if it would be okay or not? What if this huge quake had caused the lights to fall from the ceiling or something?
But of course, he couldn’t get through when he tried to call his boyfriend.
First it was just beeping, and then after he tried about fifteen times in a row, completely panicked, he finally got a message like the lines are too busy now, please try back later.
Of course everyone would be trying to use their phones after a disaster like that, especially with no power, but Touma begged the people around him to give up for just two seconds so he could make sure that Zu was alright and that nothing had happened to him.
And then he realized that people around him were probably exactly the same, trying to get a hold of their very important person.
Then the next message came. The earthquake was rated very high, and originated east. His parents would most likely be fine right now, along with the rest of his family, but they were predicting tsunamis, which Touma didn’t care about at the moment, and about a million aftershocks, some of which would be comparable to the original.
It was as he read that that another one started, seemingly just as bad as it had been before.
He darted back into the bathroom, his phone held tightly against his chest, and slid down the wall to crouch into the smallest position possible even though his ass got wet and it wasn’t as strong as it had been before, but it was long and he tried to call Zu again even while it was happening, but there was no chance and so he unsteadily typed out an email on his phone, hoping that would reach him when a call wouldn’t.
Then he pressed send and closed his eyes and tried not to cry, because if his apartment looked like this, all he could see was Zu body buried under tons of heavy iron filming equipment.
Even when the first aftershock stopped he stayed where he was. He didn’t know what to do except think, because he needed to think right now and figure out a game plan and not squander his resources and find some more information. The power would be back on soon and he could use his computer or turn on the news and take the train over to the studio himself and make sure his boyfriend was okay.
+++
Even after an hour the power didn’t come back.
Touma got an email from his brother surprisingly, that they were all worried about him, but it was only after he had hit the button to manually retrieve his waiting messages from the invisible bank in which they were stored that he even got that much (and although he was relieved, he had already figured they were all okay, and he was worried about Zu more than them at this second).
He had sent a million messages to his boyfriend to receive absolutely nothing in return (even from his other friends like Jun and Yamapi, and shit he was worried about them too, but at least he knew that Johnny was looking out for them), and he hadn’t gotten through on any of the phone calls he had tried to make either.
The wait was making him insane.
He was completely helpless.
He didn’t know what was happening with anyone, or if the earthquake was really as bad as they were saying, or if the tsunamis had hit yet or if buildings around him were collapsing (although he really doubted that, it was Japan after all), and he didn’t even have a car because Johnny had taken them all away after that second stupid accident from Arashi that could have been prevented and they were all paying for it now. Especially now. Because Touma couldn’t even charge his phone or listen to the radio or warm up later tonight when it got cold.
So he sat next to his window where the sun was still shining in so he had some light to work with and pulled out a pencil and unused notebook (because who really wrote by hand anymore?) and let himself go because even though he didn’t know about Zu, he just had to hope that everything would be okay and wait a little bit more.
And the words took longer to write than they came to his head, his other hand was made useless by holding his cell phone, turned off to save the battery for a potential crisis, but he was unable to bring himself to put it somewhere out of the way, just in case. When his hand started to cramp he looked out the window to the street and could already see the lines of cars outside of his apartment trying to go places, to make sure their special people were okay because of the sudden jammed lines and lack of means of communications.
Touma, too, thought about trying to hail a cab, but it looked impossible and he wasn’t quite so desperate yet, feeling slightly calm and even more so as he continued to write, losing himself in his story and releasing his tension a little, and then when he was done, done with the first thing that came to his head, he wrote a short paragraph about what had just happened to him and how worried he was about Zu.
Then it was time to turn his phone back on, to see if anything had changed or if he was simply lucky and would be allowed to contact someone he needed to after being forced to wait for so long.
It must have been fate. It wasn’t Zu, but Touma got his manager on the line, telling him he was fine and not injured, just that his apartment was a mess and that he was worried about someone and couldn’t he work something out to get a ride to the studio to check on his friend even though the roads were packed right now and that many people might not even be make it back home tonight despite how much they tried?
But the answer was no. There was no way to get a car over to him in this mess and his manager had his own family to worry about and Touma couldn’t bear to argue with him, because other people had important people too, not just him. Besides, if Zu was hurt he could have been taken to the hospital already, or maybe he wasn’t even at the studio, although he should have been, and it was a crisis right now and Touma knew he shouldn’t waste his resources.
So he answered a few simple questions, enabling his manager to pass on the message that he was okay and he was promised that if nothing improved by nightfall that some way, some how he would be brought food and water even though Touma assured him those were not really items he thought he needed right now.
And then it was back to waiting.
The battery on his cell phone still had half life and he was thinking that enough time had passed that the congestion might have died down or that Zu was trying just as hard to get a hold of him as Touma was, so he left it on, only trying the number every half an hour and sending a few messages too (he had finally gotten one from Jun, although Yamapi was still apparently unaccounted for by the company, as his manager had mentioned, and Touma was worried about that too, enough that when he was frustrated he would call Tomohisa’s number instead of Zu’s).
It must have been his body going into survival mode, because when he was finally jarred out of his depression, closing the latest no new messages screen from his mobile, his eyes landed on the kitchen and he realized that it was a mess and that he was hungry.
First he surveyed the damage again, having touched nothing since he had taken up his seat by the window, and then bent over to begin figuring out what was broken and not. He’d have to wash them all before he put them away, but there were some porcelain shards that were pretty obvious, so he put on his house slippers and cautiously stepped over the mess to retrieve a garbage bag and distract himself again.
A lot of the dishes were intact, so he began organizing the plates and bowls into a pile to be washed, as soon as he knew how bad the emergency situation was and how long he would be without heat or if water was going to be scarce (it was still running now, but who knew?) but there were more glasses broken than not, so most of those went straight into his bag. Another tremor started again at that point, so he abandoned the freshly straightened cutlery to instead dart into the doorway, as this one didn’t seem nearly as bad as the previous ones (and it wasn’t) and just closed his eyes as the floor beneath him swayed.
But nothing more fell than was already on the floor, and once he calmed down, taking deep breaths and grabbing his stomach, he made his way back into the kitchen to continue, already feeling used to all of the aftershocks.
As he finished sweeping up the mess, the sun was setting. It wasn’t late, probably not even six yet--his promised meeting time with Zu--but with the sun went his light and Touma’s replacement for that was a flashlight that was kept under his sink, not to be used in the course of its life up until now. He wasn’t even sure if the batteries worked. But he also had one or two candles from Jun, so he decided after eating something that he would search for those before it became too difficult, even if he didn’t use them.
All of the food was salvageable, except for a box of crackers that had been half eaten already and then spilled over the floor in his descent (Touma closed the box and threw the rest away) and one unfortunate bottle of jam, but his fridge was fine after a little rearranging, even though Touma didn’t check the freezer for fear that everything in it would start to defrost immediately. There was still a lot more to clean up, but somehow knowing that he could do it later, or that it was something to keep him distracted when he needed it, made him put it off even longer. Instead he ate a banana as he made his way to his bedroom, checking his phone and trying to call Zu again, and wasted ten minutes looking around for the scented candles that he never thought he would use. Ever.
Right after he found them he realized he needed matches or a lighter to even use them, and then his phone rang.
“Hello?” His voice was ragged and he didn’t even bother to check the identity of the caller, desperate for anything. The candles had been dropped to the floor in his haste, but they were forgotten immediately as Touma waited for an answer.
“Th-thank God.”
“Yamapi? Are you okay?” Although it wasn’t who he wanted it to be, Touma was still worried about his friend, especially because of the tone of his voice, sort of raw and shaking like he had been using it too much.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t get a hold of anyone, though. I’ve been trying to call my manager, my mom, you, Kame… Anyone I could think of. But this was the first time I’ve gotten through.” His voice turned a little relieved, but then wavered immediately, as if the emotion was overwhelming him and he was keeping himself from losing control completely.
“Tell me about it,” Touma laughed wryly, hoping that the fact that he had become almost numb since this whole thing started would help his friend stay composed. “Are you sure you aren’t injured or something?”
“Just shaken. I’m in the studio right now and some equipment fell over,” he replied slowly, and Touma’s heart stopped beating.
“God…” came out in an incredulous sigh and he slid to the floor where he was, closing his eyes and trying not to completely break down again, the empty shell he had temporarily become abandoned for panic once again. “Was anyone hurt?”
“We couldn’t get out. This building is so big, when the real shaking started, all I could do was get under a table in the break room.”
“Was anyone hurt?” he repeated in a lower voice, looking for a more specific answer.
Of course Zu wouldn’t be working with Yamapi-that would be too much of a coincidence-but if Touma was reassured about the state of a studio for an earthquake of this size, he might be able to get the image of his boyfriend’s dead body far away enough to last through the night.
“No. Well, I mean, we’ll all have a few bruises and whatnot-Touma, are you okay? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m at my apartment, I have been all day. Just a few broken things, that’s all,” he replied quickly, his mind already speeding with what he needed to do with this conversation. Yamapi was okay, but it was important to let someone at the company know that fact, and they probably needed to find a way to get him someplace safe as well. “You’re still at the studio? Which one?”
“Yeah… I can’t find a way to get home and I couldn’t contact anyone. I was going to wait to see if they started filming again, but after an hour of aftershocks they called the whole thing off to be rescheduled. I want to go home, but I can’t get there, Touma.”
And then he mentioned the studio he was at and Touma felt like he’d been hit with a semi truck.
“Tomohisa-“ he had to take a deep breath first, force himself to keep from falling over that edge of hysteria, “I’m really sorry to ask this, but my good friend works there and I haven’t been able to get a hold of him either.”
Instead of acting offended that Touma was asking for favors in this extreme situation, Yamapi seemed to understand the sentiment exactly. “What’s his name? Where does he work?”
And so he told him, and Yamapi kept him on the line as he jogged through the building and Touma whispered, “If I were there, I would kiss you,” quite seriously, but his friend laughed and he laughed and it seemed like that heavy shadow sitting over him since this all happened was lifting a little.
When he finally made it to the filming room where Zu worked, Yamapi was out of breath and the conversation he had with someone was muffled as he politely covered his phone, but Touma could hear enough that when the words were confirmed a moment later, his mind went blank.
“She said he was taken to the hospital, Touma. They were moving something when the earthquake started.”
That horrific image of Zu’s unmoving body was back, and this time so much more realistic than it had been.
But he managed to choke out, “What hospital?” that automatic, smart part of his brain taking over for the rest of him as he stared at the bed, which was almost completely covered in shadow due to lack of light.
Yamapi relayed the question and then the answer and Touma managed a small thank you as he started making a new game plan.
“I’m really sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
No, Yamapi had his own things to deal with and so did the rest of Japan. It was best to finish the conversation and let someone else make a phone call because they had already been on the line quite long enough and had finished with all the important things as well.
“It’s fine. Is there anything you need help with? If I talk to anyone else I’ll try to pass on the message that you’re okay.”
“That’s enough. I guess I’ll just stay here until something changes.”
“Thank you, Pi.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Me too. Be careful. Watch out for aftershocks.”
“Same for you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Of course he was going to. But he didn’t have to admit it.
And then they hung up and Touma was running around the house frantically, collecting anything he thought he would need to take with him to the hospital, shoving it into his designer backpack; a bottle of water, some crackers, his candles and flashlight, and of course his wallet and any money he had laying around.
His bike was in the parking garage, locked in the designated area, and even though he only had a vague idea where that particular hospital was and it would take him a full hour to get there anyway via cycling, it was something he could do, so he did.
Sweat had soaked through every inch of his skin by the time he arrived at his destination, only taking a break for stoplights (why were they working when the power was out?) and the one quick trip to the convenience store to get some bread and energy bars (there were still clerks working despite the darkness and lack of registers and Touma was thankful to them for their tenacity) just in case there was nothing at the hospital.
When he rushed inside, the emergency room already packed as full as it could be, it took him a full five minutes to make it through the crowd and to where he could talk with a staff member, but the woman sighed at him and shook her head, indicating that she couldn’t be able to help him at all. He was given a short, rehearsed explanation that people in the most critical condition were properly treated in the rooms and that others were being treated in the hallways or even outside the building, depending. But Touma didn’t know what kind of injury Zu had, and just giving his name got him nowhere, so instead he started down the hallway, talking with the people that were waiting there, laying on blankets in rows.
He had a slightly blurry picture of Zu on his phone, so he started with that and a verbal description, but although it was obvious the people he asked wanted to help him, they hadn’t seen him (and there was no way they could forget someone as eccentric as Zu).
But the hospital was warm with so many people inside, and it had emergency power as well, so even though there were a lot of people and Touma was feeling helpless, it was better than sitting at his apartment, alone in the dark.
It took a long time.
And the only reason he even had a breakthrough was because an old woman, who was there with her husband, had taken pity on him and insisted on helping, pulling over a doctor and forcing him to at least look at Touma’s picture even though it was obvious he was busy doing other things.
Even though he eventually gave in and looked, he ended up pulling over another nurse, a young woman who looked haggard, and pushing the situation off on her, but she had seen Zu and so Touma gave the old woman a tight hug before immediately following the woman’s directions to head up to the third floor.
As he sprinted up the stairs another tremor started, but he didn’t react at all to the shaking, barely feeling it in the first place, and started his search once again, hopefully closer to where Zu actually was.
He tried to look around first, but there were a lot of people up here too, although not as many as downstairs, and after a few moments, managed to flag down another employee, this one a pimple-scarred intern with a mop and bucket, and although he shrugged first, too tired to take much interest, in the end he pointed down the hallway and Touma took off.
It was more than halfway down the line of blankets on the floor, a different patterned type from the ones downstairs, but there was Zu, laid out on the ground between a woman with her child and another man about their age, and he didn’t look up until Touma was standing at his feet, breathing heavily and trying not to give in to shock.
“Touma,” he whispered with wide eyes that were colored with exhaustion, and then Touma fell to the ground, wrapping his boyfriend in his arms.
“Thank God,” he almost sobbed, letting his emotions go now that he had reached his goal of finding Zu, who was conscious and alive.
The arms around his back, holding him just as tightly, grasped onto his shirt and there was a distinct wetness at his neck, and Touma wasn’t sure whether that was lips or tears (and it didn’t matter).
+++
A/N: Well, first of all, this is somewhat based on my own experiences, although a little exaggerated. Second of all, as mentioned, I don't claim to know what happened to any Johnny's members during the time of the earthquake. Third, it's been a long time since I've written an original character. ^_^ It was pretty fun. I think the hard part about doing it is to not make them perfect, and although Zu was pretty perfect, his presence in the story was very specific so I don't care. Last, I'm pretty sure that this probably seems half finished... like I didn't go into what happened afterwards or whatnot. But, you know, I just wrote until I was like, "Oh. That's the end."
Thank you for reading. For those of you waiting for something from me, I appreciate your patience. I am back in Japan now after being home in America for two weeks, so hopefully I'll have some time to catch up.
EDIT 4/8: Ironically, another sizeable earthquake hit about twenty minutes after I posted this. =A=