[01/01] Blank Canvas
title. Blank Canvas
pairing. akame (je)
rating. pg-13
summary. kame promises to himself that when jin comes back, he'll forget the past and forge a new future. it's pretend-everything-never-happened under the pretense of moving on.
author's note. this is supposed to be my happy!akame fic.
word count. 03340
When Kame finds out that Jin is leaving, he promises to himself that when Jin comes back, there will be a clean slate. Good-bye eight years of memories. Good-bye boyish antics and grudges and love and heartache. Hello, blank and white and new.
It's pretend-everything-never-happened under the pretense of moving on.
They go to New York City in February. Jin is meeting them there and Kame doesn't know what to expect. Three months in America is as foreign to him as three months away in the mountains. His imagination runs rampant when he thinks of Jin with a beard, Jin with an American accent, Jin with a pretty blonde girl on his arm or perhaps a brain in his head.
Kame laughs to himself and he's almost disappointed to see that Jin hasn't changed very much at all.
The trip is for their calendar shoot, but they are given two days to themselves.
On the first, things are awkward between the six of them. Koki refuses to speak to Jin and Maru has to fill in the empty spaces. Ueda is initially happy to see Jin, but he doesn't offer much else besides a museum that he'd like to visit, and Junno, deprived of his morning coffee, simply looks as though he wants to commit murder.
So this is what three months does, Kame thinks.
But Jin is still himself, and eventually, hostility melts away and the six of them waltz through New York City like foreign tourists. Jin attempts to show off his English and they laugh when he makes a mistake or waves his arms at a passerby who doesn't quite understand what he's attempting to say.
"Are you coming back?" lingers in the air, but no one dares to say a thing.
They're afraid of the answer.
The second, it is decided that everyone will do their own thing. Jin says he's going to go see Central Park and Kame volunteers to go with him--if it's all right--. There is no baseball to watch when the snow is packed tightly and the air is still dry and frigid.
In the park, Kame discovers freedom and fresh air and anonymity. Kame discovers that the little gnawing fear that he wouldn't get the chance to start anew, that he wouldn't get the chance to paint a new relationship, is just that, a little gnawing fear.
Because Jin says that he's going to come back in another three months.
They part ways at nightfall. Kame meets the other four for dinner and Jin goes back to his hotel to pack for his return to California.
For some unexplainable reason, Kame doesn't think that it's important to tell the rest of KAT-TUN that Jin is coming back.
---
Jin returns in the second half of April, but the first time that Kame sees him since February in New York City is on the front page of a tabloid at the convenience store two blocks from his apartment. Long black hair and obscene t-shirt, big sunglasses and a visible swagger.
Kame faintly touches a corner of the cover, sucks in a breath and remembers his promise.
---
Before the press conference, they hover around Jin who smiles and looks happy but still has rings beneath his eyes. Kame thinks that Jin hasn't changed very much in the last six months. He is, perhaps, a little more disheveled, but the stylists and makeup artists have done their jobs, turned him back into an idol worthy of basking in media attention.
"Okaeri," Kame says breathily, sidles up beside Jin while the others are out of earshot.
"Tadaimaaaaa." Jin drags out the last syllable, links his fingers behind his head before turning to greet Kame with a grin. "Didn't you say that already? A few times?"
"Yes," Kame admits, smiles back. "Okaeri, okaeri, okaeriokaerikaeririririririririri--" He lets out a yelp and a squawk when Jin jostles him with his hip and pokes him in the side.
"You. You sound like a broken record."
"I hope you don't," Kame shoots back; "I hope voice-training did you some good."
"Standby," a staffer calls to them, and Kame grabs Jin's hand.
"Don't trip on your way out," he advises. "Don't mess up your English. Don't pick your nose."
Jin squeezes Kame's hand. "What kind of person do you think I am?" He grins.
"Do you really need to ask?" Kame squeaks when Jin pokes his side again, and he retaliates by attacking Jin's collarbone.
---
It's all very new to Jin. After he leaves Japan and goes to America, Kame is different. Kame is no longer aloof, no longer untouchable. Kame is no longer just a colleague, but a friend. Uneasiness and tension disappears and they speak on the phone and gossip. And when they meet in New York, they act like friends, and when Jin comes back to Tokyo, they act like friends too.
Jin is a little confused as to why, seeing as it is a very dramatic turn of events, but he tries not to dwell because friendships are a good thing. Friendships that repair themselves are even better things, and he's glad that he and Kame are friends again.
He can't help but feel that this logic is a little bit naive, so he remains a little wary of what's going on.
But he promises not to let petty things get in the way of friendships anymore.
---
Kame thinks that everything is turning out perfectly, that forgetting eight years of relationships and not-relationships is now, obviously, the best remedy for his situation. He's very happy that he was able to keep his promise to himself and very happy that his promise worked out the way it was supposed to.
He ignores the nagging in the back of his mind that tells him that the past shouldn't be forgotten, that the past should be remembered, not shunned away, not locked away, because isn't that how the past repeats itself? Because of human ignorance and forgetfulness?
But everything is okay, Kame resolves. Nothing is going wrong and he doesn't see anything going wrong in the near future. So his mind's naggings are wrong and he is right, but his mind still nags at him, and he can't forget it.
---
They are speaking on the phone one morning, making plans to meet for lunch and then head to the studio for a magazine photoshoot.
Jin brings it up as an afterthought, blurts it out like he isn't sure exactly sure where in the conversation it fits.
"How did we fix Us?" He asks, sounds a little bit confused and a little bit nervous, like Kame will say, 'What do you mean? What Us?' and then hang up on the phone and only give Jin terse answers when he sees him face to face.
"By moving on," Kame replies without missing a beat, and Jin isn't sure how to reply. "I'll see you in a couple of hours, okay?" He hangs up.
"Isn't that too easy?" Jin wonders aloud.
---
It was never a relationship, anyway, Kame thinks. It was friends with benefits after a hectic 2004 summer with concerts and photoshoots and interviews and SUMMARY.
---
"Do you want a ride home?" Jin asks him casually. They'd just gotten out of a meeting concerning scheduling and prospective projects. Gokusen 2. They hadn't even accepted the offer, but they doubted they had a choice. The two most popular members of one of the most popular Johnny's groups (debuted or not) in the sequel to an already popular drama?
The answer is obvious (even to Jin).
"I'm catching the train in twenty, so--" Kame is wary of Jin's driving skills. He's been in the passenger seat several times himself and contributes to the horror stories that Yamapi and Jimmy Mackey tell the juniors during rehearsals.
"But my car is only a two-second walk!" Jin laughs, pulls out his keys, a cigarette, and a lighter. "Want one?" He asks, lights up and exhales smoke in a thin stream.
“No, thank you. I’m trying to quit.”
---
"Thanks." Kame smiles at Jin as the other stops the car in front of his home. "You didn't have to. It's probably out of your way." He's not even sure where Jin lives now that he's moved out of his parent's house.
"I'm going to visit my family anyway." Jin smiles back, fidgets with his seatbelt and won't keep still. Not that he ever did. He was always moving something, always touching something, always doing something. "It's near here, you know?"
"Of course I know." Kame rolls his eyes. "I've known your mom almost as long as I've known you." He opens the passenger side door and starts to get out.
"But you like me better, right?"
"Well--" Kame feigns hesitation.
"Hey!" Jin shrieks, and Kame looks back at him, grin wide.
"What?"
"You like me better, right?" Jin repeats, and Kame leans back into the car.
"I guess," he says, and laughs at Jin's indignant face.
"Yes?" Jin asks, and grabs one of Kame's bony wrists. "I won't let you go until you say 'Yes, Jin, I like you better than I like your mom.'"
"Yes." Kame sticks out his tongue and laughs again, and tries to pull his wrist back from Jin's grasp. Jin doesn't let go, watches Kame with a funny look in his eyes. There's a few moments of weird silence, of things not being said that probably should, before Jin leans over to kiss Kame on the mouth, soft lips pressed tightly together and pressed tightly against the other boy's.
"You smell like smoke," Kame says, eyes wide as Jin pulls back.
"You smoke too," Jin says, blinks hard. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and he lets go of Kame's wrist.
"Okay," Kame says. "Okay." And he only hesitates a little before leaning in, before pulling on Jin's wrists so their lips meet again, clumsy and awkward.
---
Kame doesn't remember how things go from there.
Kame doesn't even remember how things got there.
But he does remember little touches and then daring touches and then little kisses and sweet kisses and heavy kisses and caressing and petting and then meetings in the bathroom before performances and hiding from the stylist staff before photoshoots.
And then there is Gokusen 2 and a stupid fight and it's all over, just like that.
Just like that, just like how it began.
He doesn't remember details. They're not important, anyway.
He just remembers tension and terse civility and being too stubborn to repair whatever they had become.
Blank and white and new.
Blank and white and new.
A new canvas.
---
Kame sees Jin waiting for him outside of the restaurant when he approaches. Dark shades hide his eyes and he twirls an olive-hued cap in his hands. "Am I late?" Kame asks, looks up at the other through his own rose-tinted sunglasses, smiles and pulls open a dark cherry door. "Let's eat. I'm starving."
He chooses a booth in a far corner of the restaurant, thanks the waitress for the menu, and watches as Jin slides into the seat across from him.
"I've never been here before," Jin comments idly, puts his hat on the table and pushes his hair back with his sunglasses. He looks around, rests his elbows on the table and his fingers on his lips. "I like it," he mumbles through his digits. "It's busy but it's discreet," he emphasizes. "I like discreet." He smiles.
"It opened after you left," Kame replies, skims through the thin paper booklet he holds in his hands. "Their pasta is good." He puts down the menu and stares at the ceiling as he waits for the waitress to return, his hands clasped together in his lap.
"Really?" Jin asks, "Do you come here often?"
"I've never been here," Kame admits, laughs, allows his eyes to meet Jin's before he begins inspecting their surroundings. "Actually, I thought to myself, 'I'll take Akanishi here when he comes back'. It looked like a place you would like."
"I like anywhere that has food," Jin says pointedly, puts down his menu and drums his fingers on the table as he watches Kame watch everything else. "What're you looking at?" He asks, surveys the rest of the restaurant.
Kame looks over at him in surprise, blinks and looks down at the table. "Nothing." He sucks in a breath, tries to remember his promise, and tries not to think about the past and what is going to become of the future.
"Kamenashi?"
"Yes?" Kame hears Jin get up out of his seat.
"Move over." Jin slides in beside him and nudges him with his side. "It's a booth! There's a lot of room."
"Now there isn't," Kame mumbles, avoids looking Jin in the face and inspects his fingernails instead. Suddenly, his lungs feel constricted and the butterflies in his stomach rise with vengeance. He doesn’t know why, but he suspects that Jin has something to do with it.
"Are you okay?” Jin asks.
Kame looks at him, eyes wide like he's been caught in headlights. "Yes." He smiles. "I'm just thinking, a little." He flashes a wider smile. "That might be a foreign concept to you, but--"
"Hey." Jin grins back and nudges him with his side again. "We're talking about you, not me."
"I don't want to talk about me," Kame says stubbornly, softly, his smile fading as he looks at his hands in his lap.
"You never want to talk about you," Jin replies a little irritably, smile fading from his own lips. His voice lowers and he leans toward the other man. "That's what happened before, you know. You didn't want to talk about you. And we fought about it."
Kame feels like old wounds are reopened. "We won't fight now," he says.
"What're you talking about?" Jin asks. "We're always going to fight. We fight." He sounds accepting, and Kame feels angry.
"We don't have to, now," Kame says, some acid in his voice. "We're grown men. We don't have to have fights over stupid things."
"You can't change just like that," Jin refutes. "You can't just tell yourself something and assume that it's going to come true. People don't work that way. You can't say 'Things won't be that way' and I can't say 'I can speak English'." He pauses. "You're acting like a child."
"You're bringing up the past."
"You won't talk to me."
"I don't want to."
"See what I mean?"
"Why are you starting an argument, Akanishi?"
"I'm just worried about you," Jin says. "And you won't tell me what's wrong."
"I'm not very hungry," Kame says, eyes looking past Jin's face. "If you don't mind, I'll just go ahead to the studio."
"Kazuya."
"Kamenashi-kun is fine."
"Kamenashi."
"Please let me get up, Akanishi."
"No," Jin says stubbornly, and makes Kame sit beside him as he eats lunch.
---
"Do you want a ride?" Jin asks Kame when they leave the restaurant.
"I was just going to get a taxi, so--"
"But my car is only a block away," Jin says, pulls out his keys, cigarettes, and a lighter. "Want one?" He asks, lights up and exhales smoke in a thin stream.
"Yeah," Kame concedes, lights up and follows Jin.
They walk in tandem and Kame feels afraid. He thinks that he hasn't changed very much in these last six months, but Jin has. Jin seems more mature and more knowing. Jin looks like he can accept things like they are and move on. Kame feels immature and insignificant, feels like he dwells too much on things and doesn't have the ability to allow himself to drop them and grow.
"I thought you quit," Jin says when they get to his car.
"I did," Kame replies, and grinds the butt into the asphalt with the toe of his pointy leather shoes.
---
Jin is a better driver than Kame remembers, and he doesn't grip the armrests until his knuckles turn white. Jin parks behind the studio and Kame sucks in a breath. "Thanks," he says tentatively, "for driving me."
"We were coming to the same place from the same place," Jin points out. "Isn't that obvious?"
"You never notice anything, never mind the obvious." Kame smiles, attempts to forget the exchange at the restaurant as he teases Jin relentlessly. "So I was a little surprised."
Jin pouts, fidgets with his seatbelt as they sit in the car. He never could keep still. He was always moving something, always touching something, always doing something. "You're mean to me," he whines.
"It builds character." Kame nods and looks straight ahead, thinks about his statement and wonders if that's why Jin seems stronger, if that's the reason why Jin has grown and he hasn't. No one is mean to Kame. They only worry about him.
"Kazuya."
"Kamenashi-kun."
"Kamenashi."
Kame sees the other move out of the corner of his eye and he turns toward him out of curiosity. He kind of expects it, Jin leaning over and pressing soft lips tightly against his own. Kame doesn't move, tries to ignore their sunglasses clinking together and his quickening heartbeat when Jin nips his bottom lip and pulls away.
"You taste like smoke."
"So do you," Jin says, pushes his hair back with his sunglasses and leans in again, runs his tongue across Kame's lips, between Kame's lips, cups his face in one hand and pulls him closer.
"Stop it," Kame says when they break to breathe, feels close to tears. "Stop it."
"I don't know what you want," Jin replies, raises his other hand to cup Kame's other cheek and presses their foreheads together.
Kame doesn’t either, but he says, "I want to go inside the studio,” instead. He pulls his face away from Jin’s warm hands and opens the passenger side door.
"Kazuya." Jin holds Kame's wrist.
"Kamenashi-kun is fine."
"Kazuya."
"Let me go," Kame pleads, jerks his arm out of Jin's grasp. "We're late." He regains his composure on the outside, feels shaky on the inside, but isn't going to let anyone see that.
"It's okay," Jin says. "It's okay if we're late."
"I don't want to talk about me," Kame grinds out, looks back at Jin as he steps out of the car and slams the door. "I'll see you inside."
---
And it's not a blank canvas, not a new start, not the beginning. Kame hasn't moved on, hasn't forgotten the past. He hasn't grown as a person and he hasn't reached some new level of maturity. Pretending everything never happened is a sophomoric concept, he realizes. Pretending to move on from something that continually gnaws at the edges of your soul doesn't work.
It makes it hurt more, he thinks.
---
"Kamenashi." Jin approaches him at a concert rehearsal, corners Kame in the empty dressing room as he changes into suitable clothes for dancing and running and practicing.
"Akanishi," Kame acknowledges him. They haven't had a real conversation for several days, not since the fiasco at the restaurant and the confusion in the car.
"We need to talk." Jin steps in front of Kame. "I know you don't want to, but we need to."
"There's nothing to talk about," Kame lies to Jin and himself.
"There's a lot to talk about," Jin replies, and looks up at the ceiling. "We have to talk about Us and what we are and how much it sucks that we play these silent games with each other."
"What do you mean?" Kame asks. "What Us?"
Jin thinks that is the last straw and he grabs a glass of water in anger, throws it against the opposite wall.
It shatters into millions and millions and millions of tiny fragments, and the water drips down the chipping white plaster.
"You're right," Jin seethes, pushes Kame out of the way as he leaves the dressing room. "What Us? What eight years of working together? What relationship? What in the world could I possibly be talking about?" He stops in the doorway and turns toward Kame's tensed back. "Fuck this, Kamenashi," he says.
Kame thinks that maybe the numbness he feels is the feeling of someone relenting, breaking, giving up and moving on without a single glance back. It hurts, a little, a lot. Like he can't breathe, like he should say something, like he should do something, like he should fix whatever is broken to the best of his ability.
But he can't.
He's tried.
And he can't.
---
Author's Note: There's a lot a lot a lot I have to say about this so you can go check out the tl;dr notes here.
2007.04.29 → 2007.05.12 (edited 2007.11.24 03:13PM EST)