[one-shot] Doin’ It with Style
Title: Doin’ It with Style
Type: One-shot
Word count: 8,283
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yamapi/Massu, Ryo/Shige, with special appearances by MatsuJun, Sho and Aiba (Arashi)
Summary: The editor-in-chief has his eye on the new fashion stylist, the music editor bickers constantly with the head photographer, while an unexpected incident threatens to break the editorial staff apart. Welcome to newStyle magazine.
Note: Magazine office AU! Written for tinyangl in je_otherworlds 2011, first posted here. Endless thanks to sanjihan for the beta.
A day at newStyle magazine typically began with Koyama Keiichiro, the features editor, putting a box on the center table and shouting for the whole editorial staff to hear, “Donuts!”
Everybody then scrambled to grab their share before the free food ran out, because it always did. Some days it was dumplings, other days croissants or muffins, but anyone would be lucky to still be able to get one after 10 AM. Good thing Koyama always saved a piece for the editor-in-chief, Yamashita Tomohisa, who usually just watched the commotion from the glass windows of his office and shook his head indulgently.
Today, though, Yamashita came out of his office and strolled to the center table. “Don’t go overboard, people, we have a new guy coming today. Wouldn’t want him to think we’re a bunch of gluttons, would we?”
“The new fashion stylist?” asked the health and fitness editor, Tegoshi Yuya.
Yamashita accepted a donut from Koyama and smiled in thanks, wrapping it with tissue. “Yes, stylist and editor. His name is Masuda, and he’ll be working with you a lot, Kato-kun.” He nodded at Kato Shigeaki, the head photographer.
“He’s the friend I told you about, remember?” Koyama said to Shige.
“So you know him already?” asked Yamashita.
“Yeah, we met a few years ago at a party hosted by a mutual friend, Nakamaru. I was the one who told Masuda about the vacancy here.”
Nishikido Ryo, the music and entertainment editor, grabbed another donut and took a huge bite. “Well, I hope he’s not the type who doesn’t eat and wants all the models to be thin,” he mumbled between mouthfuls.
Shige sniggered. “Spoken by the person who complained for an hour last week because all the egg tarts were snagged by the advertising people. Somehow I’m not surprised.”
Ryo gave him an annoyed glare. “That was because they were hogging them.”
Koyama and Tegoshi exchanged glances, the latter rolling his eyes and mouthing, ‘Here we go again,’ while Yamashita went down to the lobby to welcome the new guy. When he reappeared at the doors several minutes later, all the editors, writers and photographers craned their necks - even Shige and Ryo stopped arguing for a change - to catch a first glimpse of the latest addition to their editorial team.
Masuda was a medium-height, well-built man with a genial smile and hair dyed a dark red. He was talking enthusiastically with Yamashita, hands making sweeping gestures in front of his face. The newcomer and Yamashita walked to the center of the room, where they stopped and Yamashita cleared his throat to address his staff.
“Everybody, this is our new fashion stylist and editor, Masuda Takahisa. Masuda-san, welcome to newStyle.”
Masuda made a slight bow and smiled. “Nice to meet you all.”
One by one the staff members came up to him to introduce themselves, which Masuda responded to graciously. When it was Koyama’s turn, he grinned and said, “Great to see you here, Masuda-kun! Looking forward to working with you.”
Masuda clapped Koyama’s back warmly. “Likewise. I’m glad you told me about the opening here. newStyle is one of the most prominent male magazines today, and it’s an honor to be part of the team.”
After the handshakes and greetings the staff scattered back to their desks. It was then that Masuda spotted the snack box on the center table, its contents already half empty. “Ooh, donuts,” he said. “Can I have one?”
Ryo grinned. “I think I like the guy already.”
After a few months Masuda began to fall into the rhythm of the work in newStyle. If he was asked to describe the magazine in one word he would probably choose ‘vibrant’, or ‘colorful’. A lot of that was influenced by the various editorial staff members and the dynamics between them.
First of all there was Yamashita: the conductor of the orchestra, the commander leading his army into battle. He knew all the staff members’ abilities and was supportive without being pushy, watchful without being too controlling. He allowed his team as much creative freedom as possible, while always ready to provide guidance if they needed him and to steer them to the right course whenever necessary. Even when Masuda had only spent a short time in the magazine, he could sense how much the staff trusted Yamashita and felt at ease under his leadership.
Masuda got to work a lot with Shige, as the head photographer played a large role in fashion spreads. Shige was a pretty serious but fun guy, and he and Masuda were mostly on the same wavelength when it came to artistic concept, so putting their heads together for a photo shoot was always an enjoyable process.
Shige and Koyama were pretty tight buddies, and having known Koyama before made it easier for Masuda to become part of the group. The Koyama that Masuda knew was every inch a people-person, and his persona in the office was no different. He was probably the only staff member who could get along with anyone and everyone without exception.
Speaking of getting along, Masuda couldn’t help noticing how Shige and the music editor, Ryo, met in a head-to-head collision whenever they came close. Ryo seemed to think Shige was a stuck-up know-it-all, while Shige summarily dismissed Ryo as a jackass. Massu thought it was probably because Ryo had a habit of suddenly popping into the photo studio whenever they happened to have female models around (although newStyle was a male magazine, they occasionally had couples or group photo shoots) and trying to strike conversation with them.
In moments like those Shige would cross his arms and said testily, “Nishikido-kun, please stop flirting with the models.”
“I’m not flirting, I’m networking. It’s good to have connections everywhere, especially in my line of work. You should try it too, Kato. It might do you good to be a little less uptight.” He nudged Shige with an elbow and gave him a playful wink, but then his gaze fell on a female model in a stunning backless dress who must’ve been at least a head taller than he was. “Well hello, have I ever seen you before?”
Shige rolled his eyes. “She probably hasn’t seen you before, unless she’s been gazing downward all this time.”
“Hey,” Ryo glowered at him. “I heard that.”
“I intended for you to hear it.”
As the two were engaged in a fierce staring contest, Masuda decided it was a good time to clap his hands and announce to the models, “Okay everybody, next outfit please! They’re all ready in your dressing rooms.”
Just like Shige was close to Koyama, Ryo was pretty good friends with Yamashita - Masuda later learned they went to university together. But despite being on close terms, Ryo never used his familiarity with the editor-in-chief for his own gain. He took no shortcuts and got feedback and criticism for his work just like everybody else. Masuda liked that principle of fairness in this magazine.
Another member of the staff, Tegoshi, was one of the youngest editors there. With his good looks Masuda thought he could actually be a model, but Tegoshi was more passionate about sports and fitness than fashion. Even during hectic days he never seemed to run out of energy, and his trademark charm and good cheer also made him popular among the staff.
In addition to them, there were an assortment of talented writers, photographers and layout designers that make up the crew. All in all, Masuda was surrounded by good people in a good working environment, and he felt his decision to join newStyle was the best career move he had ever made. He could see himself thriving there, and that made him want to give what he could to bring the magazine to greater heights.
A knock on his open door made Yamashita look up from his papers, and he saw Masuda standing in the doorway. “Are you busy, Yamashita-san?” the latter asked.
“No, come on in.” Yamashita waved his hand to the direction of the empty chair in front of him. “What can I do for you, Masuda-kun?”
Masuda sat down and began, “I was wondering if anybody has thought of a theme for the next issue.”
“Not yet, at least that I know of. Maybe somebody will come up with something at the next editorial meeting. Why, do you have any suggestions yourself?”
A nervous smile passed over Masuda’s face, his cheeks adorned with the slightest hint of a blush, and Yamashita unwittingly thought it made him look rather cute.
Wait a second, Yamashita thought. Did I just think the new guy was cute?
The idea was somewhat distracting, but Yamashita tried to focus on what Masuda said next. The words tumbled out of Masuda’s mouth in a rush, “Well, I have this concept about a fashion spread, which I spoke about with Shige, and he seemed to think it’s a pretty good idea. We might even be able to build the next issue around this theme.”
Yamashita nodded. “I’m listening.”
The encouragement made Masuda more at ease, and he explained his idea with increasing confidence. “I call this concept ‘Fighting Man’. The models will be dressed in outfits inspired by various martial arts from around the world. I’m aiming for something fierce, assertive and out of the box, something unique that other magazines haven’t done before.”
“That’s certainly interesting.”
“You think so?” Masuda’s smile grew even wider, and Yamashita’s stomach did a little flip. “I already have some names of designers whose clothes we might use. But I wasn’t sure if I should pitch the idea or not, because I don’t know how the others will react to it. Plus I’m new here and everything.”
“I actually think they will give a positive response, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Why don’t you put this forward at our meeting next week and we’ll see where it goes from there.”
“I will.” Masuda nodded in gratitude and rose from the chair. “Thanks for listening to me, Yamashita-san, I appreciate it.”
“Hey, any time.”
Masuda gave one last sunny, blinding smile before turning around and leaving the room. Ryo happened to be walking past the door when Masuda walked out, and he raised his eyebrows when he saw the way Yamashita’s eyes followed Masuda’s disappearing figure. Ryo took a few steps back, slipped into the office and said meaningfully, “So that’s it, isn’t it?”
Yamashita tried to keep his expression blank, which wasn’t so hard. Years of being an editor-in-chief had taught him how to instantly put on a poker face whenever he needed to. “What are you talking about?”
Ryo, on the other hand, had this huge stupid smirk on his face. “You’re checking him out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Actually what was more ridiculous was the way Yamashita’s office seemed a little less bright after Masuda left it, but he wasn’t going to tell Ryo that, of course.
“Come on dude, there’s nothing wrong with crushing on a staff member. I think it’d be good, actually. Even you need to have some fun once in a while.”
Yamashita sighed. “Ryo-”
Ryo lifted his hands up in defense. “Okay, whatever. I’m just saying.” He walked out again, whistling a merry tune.
Yamashita went back to his work, trying to concentrate on the first draft of the cover layout he was supposed to check for approval. After ten minutes he gave up and decided he needed a break, because the face of the guy on the cover suddenly looked a lot like Masuda.
When Ryo returned to his desk he saw a new email in his inbox. The name on top of it sparked his attention: Kato Shigeaki. The subject was “Candid Camera”, and for the life of him Ryo couldn’t figure out what the hell that could mean. This was probably some sort of payback after last week’s incident when a fashion shoot started fifteen minutes late because Ryo was busy chatting up the models. Curious as to what Shige could come up with, Ryo clicked open the email and read it.
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From: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
To: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: Candid camera
I would suggest you make a better use of your work hours, Nishikido-kun.
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Attached to the email is a picture of Ryo snoozing on his desk. This was not too alarming for Ryo - he’d probably get a warning from HR if they found out, but as long as he did his job and met the deadlines he was sure it wouldn’t be a big problem. The more remarkable thing about this was that Shige was taking photographs of him secretly. Snickering, Ryo typed up a quick reply.
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From: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
To: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
Are you stalking me, Kato?
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He couldn’t see Shige’s desk from where he was sitting, but Ryo could picture in his head how Shige looked like when he saw the email, red-faced and in a rush to reply. Sure enough, Ryo’s inbox pinged not three minutes later.
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From: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
To: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
Don’t flatter yourself.
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Ryo covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. They emailed back and forth for the next few minutes and it just got funnier and funnier.
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From: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
To: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
Just wondering why you bothered. I think you have an unhealthy level of interest in me.
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From: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
To: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
You were sleeping on the job. I was only concerned about your ineffective use of working hours and
its negative effect on the magazine.
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From: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
To: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
Now that you mention ‘sleeping’, I need to assert here that I would never agree to such a thing. Not
interested, Kato, sorry. I don’t mix business with pleasure.
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There was no reply after that. At the end of the day, Shige passed Ryo’s desk on his way outside. Ryo smirked at him but Shige purposely looked the other way. The guy obviously didn’t know what he had gotten himself into. Serves him right for being a nosy, sanctimonious douchebag, Ryo thought.
During a monthly conceptual editorial meeting, the staff, usually editors, put forth suggestions for the issue to be published in the next two months. They gathered ideas and then decided a general theme that would thread the issue together. Sometimes not all of the magazine’s sections could be neatly pulled together to fit the theme, but they always tried to at least connect the most prominent sections that the majority of their readers were more interested in. These are called the three Fs: fashion, fitness and features.
Yamashita expected Masuda to pitch his idea in the next meeting but the newcomer appeared to be a little hesitant, probably because so far he had mostly just listened to the others and took notes during the meetings. After most of the staff had shared their thoughts but yet to reach a consensus, Yamashita spoke up, “Masuda-kun, do you have anything to say?”
Masuda beamed at the editor-in-chief and nodded. “Actually, yes.” He cleared his throat and detailed his ‘Fighting Man’ concept to the entire staff. Everyone listened intently and some were even nodding in agreement.
When Masuda was finished, Shige said, “I remember you mentioned this idea. It would be pretty cool, as a matter of fact.”
“I agree,” said Tegoshi. “I can already think of some stuff for health and fitness that would fit this theme. I’ve been wanting to do a report on the rising popularity of alternative martial arts like Capoeira or Muay Thai among young professionals.”
Koyama joined in, “As a general theme, it’s pretty all-encompassing. I might be able to fit in some career articles in there, about the tough competition in the job market these days, for example.”
Masuda turned to Ryo. “What do you think, Nishikido-kun?”
“I guess I’m all in if everybody’s cool about it. Ooh, wait,” he tapped his chin with the tip of a pen. “I suddenly have this idea about indie music and movie festivals; they seem to be gaining momentum again lately. They are totally fighting out there... All right, I’m in.”
“Okay then. Everybody else agrees?” Yamashita said, and was met by nods and sounds of approval from the rest of the staff. He clapped his hands together. “We’re all set then. When we meet again next week I’d like an update on each of the section. Let’s get working, people.”
That signaled the end of the meeting, and everybody got up to file out of the room. Yamashita was still rearranging his papers when he heard Koyama say to Masuda, “That was a good one, Massu!”
Glancing up discreetly, Yamashita caught Masuda smiling to Koyama. “Thanks. I’m glad you guys took the idea,” Masuda said.
Yamashita frowned. He waited until the two guys were out of earshot before asking Tegoshi, who was busy typing something in his cell phone and was among the last to go out, "What’s ‘Massu’?”
Tegoshi looked up. “Huh? ...Oh, Massu. It’s a nickname Koyama-kun came up with. Now almost everybody uses Massu instead of Masuda-kun.”
Yamashita said nothing more, but he thought it was weird how something inside him flared when he heard Koyama using a familiar nickname with Masuda. Don’t be ridiculous, he told himself. The same thing he told Ryo a few days ago, but it now sounded less convincing in his head.
“You’re being kind of obvious, you know,” Ryo told Yamashita one night as they were drinking together in a bar.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Say all you want, but I’ve seen how you look at Masuda. It’s kind of cute actually.” Ryo’s lips tilted in a grin. “I’ve never seen you like that since... I don’t know, third year of college?”
Yamashita glared. “Hey. I’ve dated a bit since then.”
“Yeah, but you were so busy working you never gave any of them much of a chance. How many relationships have you had since college that lasted more than six months?”
Yamashita opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again. Ryo sniggered and said, “Figures.”
They both drank in silence before Yamashita slowly said, “I don’t even know if he likes guys.”
It was as good as a confession, but Ryo seemed to be able to see through him anyway, and he trusted his friend not to blab about it at the office. Ryo may like to tease, but he wasn’t a gossip.
He had to give Ryo credit for not breaking into laughter or making kissy sounds on hearing his admission. Instead Ryo replied, “I kinda think he does, but you never know until you make a move, right?”
“I guess so. But then... there’s Koyama, and they seem rather close.” It must have been the drinks, because normally Yamashita wouldn’t even think of admitting his crush, let alone speaking about the suspicions he had been harboring for some time.
“Koyama?” Ryo waved his hand in dismissal. “Nah, he likes chicks. You should’ve seen it when Tegoshi brought in some swimsuit brochures from a sponsor. Koyama’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets when he saw the pictures of girls in bikinis.”
Yamashita shrugged. “I don’t know...”
Ryo shifted closer and nudged Yamashita’s shoulder. “Go get it, man. Work is important and everything, but real life is just around the corner. You of all people deserve to have some fun.”
Unable to stop a grin from spreading on his face, Yamashita covered it by taking a gulp from his glass. Then he said, “How about you, seeing anyone new?”
“Nothing right now, I’m taking it easy. It’ll happen when it happens.”
Yamashita smirked. “How about Kato?”
“What about him?” Ryo said with a raise of an eyebrow.
“People say there’s a thin line between like and dislike.”
“Pffft. Kato? Please.” Ryo sneered. “I’d sooner eat my shoe than date him.”
Yamashita was going to say he hadn’t actually mentioned anything about dating Kato, but he decided against it and merely laughed. Afterward he ordered more drinks for them.
Less than two weeks after the last editorial meeting, one of the junior writers arrived breathless at the office clutching a magazine in her hand. “They stole our theme!” she yelled, attracting the attention of the whole staff.
Raising the magazine in the air, everybody saw the picture on the cover of a man doing a boxing pose, with a line underneath that said: Fighting Man. Chaos ensued as staff members gathered around the junior writer for a closer look, their exclamations of shock and disbelief filling the whole room.
Yamashita called an emergency meeting later that day.
He flipped through the contents of the rival magazine, Men’s Fashion, as the editorial staff sat silent, and some stood, around the large conference table. The similarities between their concept and Men’s Fashion’s were irrefutable. Not only did they use the term ‘Fighting Man’ in the cover, they also tied most of the magazine’s contents with the theme. Yamashita put down the magazine on the table and pressed the bridge of his nose, feeling the sudden attack of a nasty headache.
“Is it possible they thought of the exact same idea?” one of the photographers asked.
Shige shook his head. “It’s too incredible to believe. They even used some of the designers we were planning to use for the fashion spread.”
“But we’re only in the advanced planning stage. They must’ve found out about it early in order to be able to produce something this fast,” said Koyama.
The junior writer who first brought the rival magazine spoke up cautiously, “Unless... somebody leaked the concept to them...?”
The silence in the room suddenly turned chilling. Staff members exchanged glances, possibly wondering who among them the traitor was.
“But the only people who knew about this early are...” Tegoshi left his utterance hanging, his eyes flitting awkwardly. But everybody knew who he was referring to.
“-that would be myself, Kato-kun and Yamashita-san,” a grim-faced Masuda finished the sentence.
Ryo knitted his eyebrows and blurted out sharply, “No way. Kato and Yamashita couldn’t have had a hand in this.”
Shige stared at Ryo, looking both surprised at Ryo’s words as well as the aggressive tone of voice he used. The music editor didn’t seem to notice though, going on as the attention of the whole room was fixed to him. “We all know them. Kato has worked here for three years and he has never once disappointed us. And Yamashita practically built this magazine from scratch.”
“So it could only be me, then,” Masuda said wryly.
Ryo squirmed, only now realizing how his words might have been taken to mean. “I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what it implies. I’m the one who thought of the concept anyway, Kato-kun and Yamashita-san only knew after I told them.”
Yamashita interrupted, “Look, Masuda-kun, nobody’s accusing anybody here.”
“Besides, what does he stand to gain?” Koyama chimed in, looking around at the staffers’ distrustful expressions. “If he wanted to take the concept to another magazine, he wouldn’t have stayed here.”
The whole room fell silent again as everybody considered the possibilities. Masuda sank a little lower in his seat as though he wanted to disappear into it. Yamashita felt his headache steadily getting worse.
“I would prefer we don’t throw accusations before there’s proof. I’ll report this to Matsumoto-san and Sakurai-san and see what they say,” Yamashita said. At the mention of the two shareholders of the magazine, the staff seemed a bit reassured. “In the meantime, since we obviously can’t use the previous theme, let’s try to figure out another one for the new edition.”
There were quiet groans as the staff members realized they had to start all over from the beginning. They began to shuffle out of the meeting room, but Yamashita noticed how a lot of them avoided Masuda, letting him slink outside with his shoulders slumped.
Sakurai put down his wine glass and shook his head. “This whole affair is very odd. I smell smoke.”
Yamashita sighed. He was discussing the matter during dinner at a restaurant with the two shareholders, and the more they talked about it the more complicated it seemed.
The other owner, Matsumoto, folded his hands in front of his immaculately pressed suit. “Is there anyone you suspect?” he asked.
“Masuda was the first to come up with the ‘Fighting Man’ theme,” Yamashita began.
Sakurai nodded. “The new fashion editor.”
“But that doesn’t automatically mean he did it,” Yamashita quickly added. “Anyway, before he pitched the concept at an editorial meeting, he told me and Kato about it.”
“Of course we can eliminate you,” Matsumoto said without even a moment of contemplation.
“Actually I am just as possible-”
Matsumoto lifted a finger. “Not a word. The magazine wouldn’t even be what it is right now if it hadn’t been for you.”
“We trust you, Yamashita,” said Sakurai.
Yamashita felt a sudden lump in his throat, so he simply nodded. Sakurai went on, “That leaves Kato and Masuda. Kato’s been with us for a while so he has the track record.”
“Do you think Masuda could’ve done it?” asked Matsumoto.
Was it possible? Yamashita wanted to say no, but that was his personal opinion speaking, coming from a secret part of him that only a while ago admitted he was attracted to Masuda. Then again as an editor-in-chief he had to be objective, so he settled on a diplomatic answer.
“While I don’t know him enough to judge, during the few months that he has worked with us Masuda’s performance and attitude have been exceptional. I seriously doubt he’d leak material to a rival company, but he really is in hot water right now as all suspicions point to him.”
Matsumoto and Sakurai shared a pointed look.
“We’ll make some calls. And until anyone is proven guilty there should be no finger pointing,” Sakurai said before signaling for the waiter to pour them more wine.
“Nakazawa, I need that CD review right now!” Ryo bellowed to one of the writers across the room. He swiveled in his chair to face his computer again and found Shige standing in front of his desk.
After sparing him a brief glance, Ryo reached for the keyboard and started typing rapidly. “You need something, Kato? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m rather busy here.”
“Just give me a sec.” Shige was shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Listen, I- I want to thank you. You know, for defending me at the meeting the other day.”
Ryo stopped typing and glanced up, taking in a nervous Shige worrying at his bottom lip. Ryo had always thought the head photographer was so serious and looked older than he really was, but looking at him right now reminded Ryo that Shige was actually a few years his junior.
“It was nothing. I was only saying the truth.”
“Still, I want to say thanks. I never thought you paid that much attention to me.”
Ryo remembered saying something about Shige’s history in the magazine during the emergency meeting, but he didn’t at all expect it to trigger this kind of reaction from Shige. It wasn’t something he planned on uttering; it just sort of came out instinctively.
“Don’t sweat it. I still think you’re a douchebag, but not the two-faced kind. Your douchebaggery is... one-dimensional.”
A frown clouded over Shige’s face. “Gee, that’s nice to hear.”
Something inside Ryo tugged uncomfortably. He was used to throwing taunts at Shige just for the fun of it, but there was a difference in the photographer’s disposition today that made Ryo instantly regret his childish jeers. Shige was already walking away so he quickly spoke, “Hey, wait.”
Shige stopped, turning his head only slightly like he wasn’t sure if this was worth listening to.
Ryo cleared his throat. There was no way to make this less awkward, but at least he could try to keep his voice level. “I meant it when I said you couldn’t have done it.”
No reaction at first, and then a small smile tugged at the corners of Shige’s lips. “And I meant it when I said thank you.”
Only after Shige walked off did Ryo realize he was smiling himself.
The moment Koyama saw Masuda walk back into the office after lunch at the cafeteria downstairs, his face downcast, he knew something had happened. He went over to Masuda’s desk, asking, “You okay, man?”
Masuda managed a smile that couldn’t have been more forced. He plopped down on his chair, and Koyama leaned against the desk. “Did anybody say anything...?” he asked gingerly.
Masuda shook his head. “Nobody actually said stuff, but it was the way they looked at me. All the other departments have found out about what Men’s Fashion did, and they keep giving me these stares and whispering among themselves.”
“Don’t let them get to you, Massu. Even Shige and Yamashita-san believe it wasn’t you.”
“I know, and I’m grateful for it. But it’s everybody else that’s... it’s just hard sometimes.” Masuda grabbed a pen on the desk but let it go again, instead curling his fingers into a fist.
“Massu-” Koyama began, but then stopped. He put a hand on Masuda’s shoulder and started rubbing it gently. Masuda didn’t react but he didn’t balk either.
After a while Masuda reached out and closed his hand over Koyama’s on his shoulder.
Neither noticed Yamashita standing a few meters away partially hidden by a shelf, gazing at them with an unfathomable look in his eyes.
Yamashita was not one for swearing especially at the workplace, but when he saw the writing on the envelope Masuda gave him that afternoon he blurted out, “What the hell- what is this supposed to mean, Masuda-kun?”
Sitting meekly in front of Yamashita, Masuda said in slow, precise words, “It means exactly what it says.”
Written on the envelope at Yamashita’s desk was ‘Resignation Letter’, the characters stiff and cold like the meaning it implied. Yamashita didn’t even want to open the letter. “Does this mean you’re admitting something?”
Masuda’s gaze shot up and he shook his head vehemently. “No. I didn’t leak our concept anywhere.”
“Then why are you resigning?”
Masuda wrung his hands in his lap. “Because no matter what I say some people seem bent on believing I’m the culprit. I wish I could prove otherwise, but I can’t.”
Yamashita reached out and pushed the envelope in Masuda’s direction. His words were somber when he spoke, “I do not accept this resignation.”
“But, Yamashita-san...”
“Only guilty people run away.”
Masuda’s mouth was open in astonishment, and his stare fell on the letter before turning back to his boss. Yamashita nodded in reassurance.
“Sakurai-san and Matsumoto-san are bringing in a third party to get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, keep doing what you do, Masuda-kun, which is pouring your talent into creating something magnificent for this magazine.”
The fashion editor looked like he was about to cry or hug Yamashita or both, but instead he stood up and made a deep bow. His gait seemed a little lighter when he walked out of the room.
Everything Yamashita had told Masuda was true, but there was another reason, a purely personal and possibly inappropriate reason, behind his refusal to the resignation.
Don’t go yet, he thought. Not just yet.
The third party brought in by the company shareholders turned out to be a quirky, bespectacled man named Aiba who spent half a day looking around the editorial rooms and making weird noises like “Hm” or “Ha!” while standing in front of a random staffer’s desk, making everybody nervous in the process. He spent the other half of the day at the IT department one floor above.
“He’s an IT specialist,” Matsumoto told Yamashita. “We have a hunch, and we’re following through with his help.”
“But what does IT have to do with Men’s Fashion?” asked Yamashita.
Matsumoto waggled his finger in front of his face. “You’ll see,” he said with a telling smile.
Several days afterward Aiba marched into the office flanked by Sakurai and Matsumoto on one side and Yamashita on the other. All eyes followed the pack as they made their way to Masuda’s desk, where they stopped and Aiba stepped forward, pointing at Masuda’s computer.
“This is the one!” He pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded victoriously at the three people beside him. Those words triggered a collective gasp from the crowd who had begun to gather around the desk.
Pale as a sheet, Masuda got up from his chair and asked in a wobbly voice, “What are you talking about? Yamashita-san, what is he talking about?”
“Aiba-san, please don’t scare my staff member like that.” Yamashita turned to Masuda and smiled gently. “Your computer got hacked, Masuda-kun. Someone from outside the company extracted information about our upcoming issue from your computer.”
“It could be someone who later sold the information to Men’s Fashion or someone from inside that magazine itself. Our man Aiba here was able to track them down, and we have enough proof to press charges if we want,” said Sakurai.
The revelation set off an avalanche of murmurs among the staff. Masuda staggered backward and was caught by Shige, who kindly directed him to sit back down.
Yamashita spoke up to address the crowd, “This means there is no guilty party among us after all. Whatever doubts or suspicions you might have had, I expect you to remove them this very moment. We’re starting afresh now.”
Ryo was the first to come up to Massu with his hand outstretched. “I guess we all owe you an apology.”
By now Masuda was grinning stupidly, waving a hand in front of his face. “Really, you don’t have to... oh, all right.” He stood up again and received Ryo’s offer of a handshake. The rest of the staff went up to him one by one to apologize and Masuda accepted them all without any trace of malice. The charged atmosphere that had pervaded the editorial rooms lately began to thaw, laughter and lively banter breaking through the gloom.
As Yamashita left to escort Matsumoto, Sakurai and Aiba outside, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Masuda laughing at something Tegoshi said. It was nice to see it again, that happy face.
For the next few weeks the newStyle offices were buzzing with frenzied activity, as they still had a lot to catch up on in order to be able publish the next issue on time. They had finally decided on a new theme, ‘Coming Home’, and surprisingly enough, it was once again proposed by Masuda.
“This is like the complete opposite of ‘Fighting Man’,” he had said during the editorial meeting. “I’m thinking about an image of a modern Japanese man - someone who not only cares about his career but also puts a lot of importance on the people around him: his friends, his family, his significant other, even the community. Someone who has his goals set high while also keeping his feet on the ground. This will be portrayed through a photo shoot centered at the home, a place every man returns to at the end of the day.”
He let a few second pass before adding nervously, “Oh, and Aiba-san has installed a stronger firewall on every computer so we wouldn’t get hacked again. So there’s no need to, um, you know, worry about me. About it.”
“Well, I think Men’s Fashion is the one who needs to worry,” said Tegoshi, “because we’re gonna kick ass with this issue and people will forget that sorry excuse for a magazine ever existed!”
The exclamation was welcomed with hearty laughter from the others, and Masuda seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Then they started brainstorming about the idea and by the end of the meeting everybody had agreed to use Masuda’s theme.
During the busy period Ryo found little time to drop by at the photo studio like he usually did, and he actually kind of missed being there. If he was being honest with himself, he’d admit he missed being around a certain head photographer and teasing him, but since he had no intention of being honest, he just told himself he missed seeing the models. And maybe their photographer too. But only slightly.
Ever since he had defended Shige during the whole ‘Fighting Man’ debacle, Ryo had begun questioning himself. It was true he had known Shige for quite some time, but he never thought an allegation against the photographer would have elicited so strong a response from him. Shige was fun to tease, and even more fun to argue with since Ryo usually ended up winning the majority of their arguments. And okay, maybe he was a little bit on the good-looking side, especially when his eyebrows were scrunched up when he was annoyed at something Ryo said, or when he bit his lower lip while looking for a good angle for a photo... anyway, that wasn’t the point. The main point was that Ryo found Shige only mildly interesting (and only on days when he found him interesting at all), and defending him at that meeting was something he had done on impulse and would probably never do again.
Now that the matter was settled, he supposed there was no harm in paying a visit to the studio. The models were probably missing him too. He was also curious as to how Masuda and Shige were translating the ‘Coming Home’ theme into a fashion spread.
But when he arrived at the half-darkened studio nobody was there. The set for the photo shoot - the living room, dining room and kitchen of a home - was deserted. Ryo walked up to see it closer, marveling at how everything looked so real, not at all like a set built by the props people but an actual, comfortable home.
“Nishikido-kun?”
Ryo whipped his head around and saw Shige standing at the door. “You’re a little late, I’m afraid,” Shige said, his eyes twinkling in the half-light. “The photo shoot’s over. The models have all left.”
“That I could see. I just wanted to check out how you were doing this.” Ryo waved at the direction of the set. “The props guys seem to have outdone themselves this time.”
“I agree. You want to look at the photos?” Shige stepped over to a table on one side where a laptop lay open, gesturing for Ryo to follow him. He clicked open a folder and showed Ryo some pictures from the shoot: several men talking and laughing at the living room, a man cooking in the kitchen, a group of both men and women around the dining room table during a dinner party.
“Pretty good,” Ryo said as he stood behind Shige and looked at the photos over his shoulder. “Very homey and down-to-earth, but still with our signature modern style.”
Shige turned his face upward. The light reflecting from the monitor seemed to dance in his eyes as he smiled and said, “Glad you think so, Nishikido-kun.”
Ryo thought he rarely saw Shige like this, frank and unguarded and actually pleased to be around him. It was like what happened during the last few weeks had overthrown an invisible barrier between them. Or perhaps it was really Ryo who was opening up to Shige, allowing himself to see new avenues and fresh possibilities.
“Hey, Kato,” he murmured as he inched nearer to the photographer.
“Yeah...?” Shige was also tilting his head forward, eyelids falling half closed while his lips parted. As their faces moved closer and closer Ryo couldn’t help thinking Shige was looking more than mildly interesting at this moment. No, he looked very interesting...
Rapid footsteps and someone’s voice saying “Sorry I took so long!” distracted them, and Ryo barely had a second to pull away when Masuda appeared bearing two paper cups of coffee. “Oh, hi, Nishikido-kun!” he greeted cheerfully.
Luckily Masuda was the oblivious type, but Ryo could see from the corner of his eye how Kato was shuffling awkwardly. Ryo felt his insides twist. He muttered something about an article he needed to edit and walked out of the studio as quickly as he could, ignoring Masuda’s inquiry, “Would you like some coffee too...?”
Tegoshi had been right about them kicking ass. The latest issue of newStyle disappeared off the stands like hotcakes. They received favorable feedback from readers, and, as the icing on the cake, their sales beat Men’s Fashion’s by a landslide.
“Not only are they thieves, they are also losers!” Matsumoto said as he announced the numbers, to which the staff responded with applause and loud cheers. He and Sakurai then decided to hold a celebration party at a function hall on the ground floor of their building.
On the night of the party all employees of the company mingled together - editorial, advertising, marketing, distribution - all united to celebrate the success, made sweeter after defeating the odds. But one member of the staff was conspicuously missing.
“Where’s Massu?” Tegoshi asked. “He of all people should be here.”
“He’s gone to a late fashion show with one of the writers,” replied Shige, glancing at his watch. “He should be back by now.”
Yamashita sat at a table with the shareholders and Aiba, who was explaining in detail how his new firewall would prevent any future hacker attacks against the company. Yamashita nodded and hummed at intervals but his mind was elsewhere.
Now that the drama at the editorial office was over, he thought this might be the right time to make a move on Masuda. He had been imagining various scenarios in his head over and over, and although none of them seemed perfect, he was determined not to back down. He had been waiting far too long.
When someone yelled “Massu!” and loud applause erupted near the entrance, Yamashita knew the fashion editor had arrived. He quietly excused himself from the table and headed to the source of the uproar. Everybody was eager to talk to Masuda or pat him on the back or raise their glass for him, so it took a while for Yamashita to break through the crowd. But when he finally did, this was the sight that met his eyes.
Masuda was standing side by side with Koyama, who had one arm around Masuda’s shoulder. Koyama then said something to Masuda, and the latter broke into deep, rich laughter and threw his arms around Koyama’s figure. Masuda looked so happy it made Yamashita feel something was piercing his chest.
Slowly Yamashita retreated from the crowd and made his way outside the function hall. To the employees asking where he was going he merely flashed a tight smile, maybe even said some vague excuse, but he continued to walk away from the throng of people, from the music and the laughter, and into quiet solitude.
Ryo was into his third glass of cocktail when Shige showed up, sitting beside him at the otherwise empty table. Shige cleared his throat and said, “Hi.”
“Hey.” Ryo took another gulp of his cocktail, thinking he probably needed it. After whatever it was that happened or nearly happened at the studio, he wasn’t sure how to act around Shige.
“So,” Shige was tapping his own glass with a finger, “you want to talk about the other day?”
Ryo leaned back against his chair and sighed. “Quite frankly, Kato, I don’t know if there’s anything to talk about.”
He was telling the truth. He didn’t even know want to think about his own feelings, let alone talk about them with Shige. But his answer seemed to annoy Shige, who stopped tapping his glass and stared Ryo straight in the eye.
“You- you’re like a kid in a playground, you know that?” Shige spluttered.
“What?”
“You’re the kid who likes another kid, but you don’t know how to act when you like someone so you mess around with them instead.”
“I don’t mess around,” Ryo muttered, choosing not to focus on the ‘like’ part of that accusation.
“Oh yeah?” Shige challenged. “Kiss me then.”
Ryo began to think of ways to refuse, but a tiny voice inside him told him to stop making excuses, to just trust his instincts and let things happen. So before a saner part of him had a chance to speak up, he bent forward and pressed his lips to Shige’s.
At first Ryo was forceful like he was trying to prove something, but then he lessened the pressure, focusing on touching, tasting, just easing into the kiss and letting himself enjoy it. Shige really helped too. He opened up his mouth for Ryo and reciprocated his every move, making delicious little moans that caused Ryo’s spine to tingle and got him thinking he must be doing something right.
It wasn’t until they took a moment to draw breath that Ryo realized he had put his hands around Shige’s shoulders and Shige’s arms were circled around his waist. Being in each other’s personal space felt foreign, but also - Ryo couldn’t think of another way to describe it - so right. He felt things were about to get very, very interesting indeed from now on.
“I still think you’re a douchebag, by the way,” he mumbled against Shige’s mouth.
Shige grinned. “Takes one to know one.”
Masuda had come across possibly every single employee of the company during the party, but he oddly hadn’t seen the editor-in-chief. Sakurai told him Yamashita had left their table early without saying where he was going, and that made Masuda worry a little. Yamashita should be down here celebrating, since none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for his leadership.
Still craning his neck for any sign of the chief, Masuda arrived at the cocktail bar where Ryo was getting two glasses filled. “Oi, Masuda!” Ryo clapped his back warmly. “Good work, man. May we have many more great editions to come!”
“I hope so too, Nishikido-kun.”
Masuda noticed how Ryo’s hair was a little mussed and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. Perhaps he was trying the plunging neckline style he had seen on some of the models.
Leaning over to Masuda’s ear, Ryo said conspiratorially, “Now listen. I’m going to do you a little favor.”
“What favor?”
“First of all, someone thinks you and Koyama have something going on. Which isn’t true, right?”
“Koyama? Of course not. He’s my pal.” Masuda frowned. “That someone you mentioned...”
“Well, let’s just say that person is very concerned about your relationship with Koyama. And if I were you, I’d be in a hurry to ease those concerns. This is someone who’s always stood by you, who has had nothing but complete trust in you all this time. I’m doing you a favor when I tell you this: you don’t let someone like that pass you by.”
Ryo gave him one last pat on the shoulder before grabbing a cocktail glass in each hand and strolling away. Masuda thought about what he had said: someone who was concerned... someone who trusted him...
It was like a spark lit inside Masuda, and he sprinted out of the hall to the elevators.
Masuda found him in his office, sitting behind the desk with a bottle of red wine and a half-empty glass in front of him. Yamashita looked up when he knocked on the open door.
A hint of surprise flashed across his face as he saw Masuda, but as usual Yamashita quickly composed himself. Masuda wondered if this calm and collected man had ever let anyone see his bare emotions.
“Yamashita-san?” Masuda slowly walked into the office. “Why aren’t you downstairs?”
Yamashita smiled. “I just needed a little quiet, that’s all. Congratulations, by the way, your concept was a smash.”
Masuda shook his head. “It wasn’t just me, it was all of us.”
“Still, you proved yourself very well. Even after your first idea couldn’t be used, you came up with a new one. You’re just special that way, you know?”
Special. Why hadn’t it occurred to Masuda before? That was how Yamashita always looked at him, like he was something special. Watching him, looking after him, trusting him when other people didn’t, and not for any ordinary reason. This was something deeper and not immediately palpable but always present nonetheless.
Masuda remembered what Ryo had said earlier. “Yamashita-san-”
“Yes?”
“There’s nothing between me and Koyama. We’re good friends, that’s all.”
“Oh.” If the statement triggered some kind of emotion within Yamashita, he didn’t instantly show it.
“Yeah. I just thought I’d let you know.”
When Yamashita didn’t say anything for a full minute, Masuda’s spirit deflated like a popped balloon. He took a few steps back, mumbling indistinctly, “I guess I should be, um, heading back...”
“Hey, Masuda-kun?”
Masuda stopped and looked at Yamashita, who was standing up and walking in front of his desk. Masuda watched closely and he thought he could see a change in the editor-in-chief’s expression. He was trying to reveal himself, to show what he had so carefully been keeping inside, and all of this was only for Masuda’s eyes.
“I’m not really good at this thing, but...” Yamashita’s features turned tender as he spoke, “would you like to go out with me some time? For drinks?”
Masuda did what was only natural for him to do. He opened himself up in return.
“That would be wonderful,” he replied with a smile.
Type: One-shot
Word count: 8,283
Rating: PG
Pairing: Yamapi/Massu, Ryo/Shige, with special appearances by MatsuJun, Sho and Aiba (Arashi)
Summary: The editor-in-chief has his eye on the new fashion stylist, the music editor bickers constantly with the head photographer, while an unexpected incident threatens to break the editorial staff apart. Welcome to newStyle magazine.
Note: Magazine office AU! Written for tinyangl in je_otherworlds 2011, first posted here. Endless thanks to sanjihan for the beta.
A day at newStyle magazine typically began with Koyama Keiichiro, the features editor, putting a box on the center table and shouting for the whole editorial staff to hear, “Donuts!”
Everybody then scrambled to grab their share before the free food ran out, because it always did. Some days it was dumplings, other days croissants or muffins, but anyone would be lucky to still be able to get one after 10 AM. Good thing Koyama always saved a piece for the editor-in-chief, Yamashita Tomohisa, who usually just watched the commotion from the glass windows of his office and shook his head indulgently.
Today, though, Yamashita came out of his office and strolled to the center table. “Don’t go overboard, people, we have a new guy coming today. Wouldn’t want him to think we’re a bunch of gluttons, would we?”
“The new fashion stylist?” asked the health and fitness editor, Tegoshi Yuya.
Yamashita accepted a donut from Koyama and smiled in thanks, wrapping it with tissue. “Yes, stylist and editor. His name is Masuda, and he’ll be working with you a lot, Kato-kun.” He nodded at Kato Shigeaki, the head photographer.
“He’s the friend I told you about, remember?” Koyama said to Shige.
“So you know him already?” asked Yamashita.
“Yeah, we met a few years ago at a party hosted by a mutual friend, Nakamaru. I was the one who told Masuda about the vacancy here.”
Nishikido Ryo, the music and entertainment editor, grabbed another donut and took a huge bite. “Well, I hope he’s not the type who doesn’t eat and wants all the models to be thin,” he mumbled between mouthfuls.
Shige sniggered. “Spoken by the person who complained for an hour last week because all the egg tarts were snagged by the advertising people. Somehow I’m not surprised.”
Ryo gave him an annoyed glare. “That was because they were hogging them.”
Koyama and Tegoshi exchanged glances, the latter rolling his eyes and mouthing, ‘Here we go again,’ while Yamashita went down to the lobby to welcome the new guy. When he reappeared at the doors several minutes later, all the editors, writers and photographers craned their necks - even Shige and Ryo stopped arguing for a change - to catch a first glimpse of the latest addition to their editorial team.
Masuda was a medium-height, well-built man with a genial smile and hair dyed a dark red. He was talking enthusiastically with Yamashita, hands making sweeping gestures in front of his face. The newcomer and Yamashita walked to the center of the room, where they stopped and Yamashita cleared his throat to address his staff.
“Everybody, this is our new fashion stylist and editor, Masuda Takahisa. Masuda-san, welcome to newStyle.”
Masuda made a slight bow and smiled. “Nice to meet you all.”
One by one the staff members came up to him to introduce themselves, which Masuda responded to graciously. When it was Koyama’s turn, he grinned and said, “Great to see you here, Masuda-kun! Looking forward to working with you.”
Masuda clapped Koyama’s back warmly. “Likewise. I’m glad you told me about the opening here. newStyle is one of the most prominent male magazines today, and it’s an honor to be part of the team.”
After the handshakes and greetings the staff scattered back to their desks. It was then that Masuda spotted the snack box on the center table, its contents already half empty. “Ooh, donuts,” he said. “Can I have one?”
Ryo grinned. “I think I like the guy already.”
After a few months Masuda began to fall into the rhythm of the work in newStyle. If he was asked to describe the magazine in one word he would probably choose ‘vibrant’, or ‘colorful’. A lot of that was influenced by the various editorial staff members and the dynamics between them.
First of all there was Yamashita: the conductor of the orchestra, the commander leading his army into battle. He knew all the staff members’ abilities and was supportive without being pushy, watchful without being too controlling. He allowed his team as much creative freedom as possible, while always ready to provide guidance if they needed him and to steer them to the right course whenever necessary. Even when Masuda had only spent a short time in the magazine, he could sense how much the staff trusted Yamashita and felt at ease under his leadership.
Masuda got to work a lot with Shige, as the head photographer played a large role in fashion spreads. Shige was a pretty serious but fun guy, and he and Masuda were mostly on the same wavelength when it came to artistic concept, so putting their heads together for a photo shoot was always an enjoyable process.
Shige and Koyama were pretty tight buddies, and having known Koyama before made it easier for Masuda to become part of the group. The Koyama that Masuda knew was every inch a people-person, and his persona in the office was no different. He was probably the only staff member who could get along with anyone and everyone without exception.
Speaking of getting along, Masuda couldn’t help noticing how Shige and the music editor, Ryo, met in a head-to-head collision whenever they came close. Ryo seemed to think Shige was a stuck-up know-it-all, while Shige summarily dismissed Ryo as a jackass. Massu thought it was probably because Ryo had a habit of suddenly popping into the photo studio whenever they happened to have female models around (although newStyle was a male magazine, they occasionally had couples or group photo shoots) and trying to strike conversation with them.
In moments like those Shige would cross his arms and said testily, “Nishikido-kun, please stop flirting with the models.”
“I’m not flirting, I’m networking. It’s good to have connections everywhere, especially in my line of work. You should try it too, Kato. It might do you good to be a little less uptight.” He nudged Shige with an elbow and gave him a playful wink, but then his gaze fell on a female model in a stunning backless dress who must’ve been at least a head taller than he was. “Well hello, have I ever seen you before?”
Shige rolled his eyes. “She probably hasn’t seen you before, unless she’s been gazing downward all this time.”
“Hey,” Ryo glowered at him. “I heard that.”
“I intended for you to hear it.”
As the two were engaged in a fierce staring contest, Masuda decided it was a good time to clap his hands and announce to the models, “Okay everybody, next outfit please! They’re all ready in your dressing rooms.”
Just like Shige was close to Koyama, Ryo was pretty good friends with Yamashita - Masuda later learned they went to university together. But despite being on close terms, Ryo never used his familiarity with the editor-in-chief for his own gain. He took no shortcuts and got feedback and criticism for his work just like everybody else. Masuda liked that principle of fairness in this magazine.
Another member of the staff, Tegoshi, was one of the youngest editors there. With his good looks Masuda thought he could actually be a model, but Tegoshi was more passionate about sports and fitness than fashion. Even during hectic days he never seemed to run out of energy, and his trademark charm and good cheer also made him popular among the staff.
In addition to them, there were an assortment of talented writers, photographers and layout designers that make up the crew. All in all, Masuda was surrounded by good people in a good working environment, and he felt his decision to join newStyle was the best career move he had ever made. He could see himself thriving there, and that made him want to give what he could to bring the magazine to greater heights.
A knock on his open door made Yamashita look up from his papers, and he saw Masuda standing in the doorway. “Are you busy, Yamashita-san?” the latter asked.
“No, come on in.” Yamashita waved his hand to the direction of the empty chair in front of him. “What can I do for you, Masuda-kun?”
Masuda sat down and began, “I was wondering if anybody has thought of a theme for the next issue.”
“Not yet, at least that I know of. Maybe somebody will come up with something at the next editorial meeting. Why, do you have any suggestions yourself?”
A nervous smile passed over Masuda’s face, his cheeks adorned with the slightest hint of a blush, and Yamashita unwittingly thought it made him look rather cute.
Wait a second, Yamashita thought. Did I just think the new guy was cute?
The idea was somewhat distracting, but Yamashita tried to focus on what Masuda said next. The words tumbled out of Masuda’s mouth in a rush, “Well, I have this concept about a fashion spread, which I spoke about with Shige, and he seemed to think it’s a pretty good idea. We might even be able to build the next issue around this theme.”
Yamashita nodded. “I’m listening.”
The encouragement made Masuda more at ease, and he explained his idea with increasing confidence. “I call this concept ‘Fighting Man’. The models will be dressed in outfits inspired by various martial arts from around the world. I’m aiming for something fierce, assertive and out of the box, something unique that other magazines haven’t done before.”
“That’s certainly interesting.”
“You think so?” Masuda’s smile grew even wider, and Yamashita’s stomach did a little flip. “I already have some names of designers whose clothes we might use. But I wasn’t sure if I should pitch the idea or not, because I don’t know how the others will react to it. Plus I’m new here and everything.”
“I actually think they will give a positive response, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Why don’t you put this forward at our meeting next week and we’ll see where it goes from there.”
“I will.” Masuda nodded in gratitude and rose from the chair. “Thanks for listening to me, Yamashita-san, I appreciate it.”
“Hey, any time.”
Masuda gave one last sunny, blinding smile before turning around and leaving the room. Ryo happened to be walking past the door when Masuda walked out, and he raised his eyebrows when he saw the way Yamashita’s eyes followed Masuda’s disappearing figure. Ryo took a few steps back, slipped into the office and said meaningfully, “So that’s it, isn’t it?”
Yamashita tried to keep his expression blank, which wasn’t so hard. Years of being an editor-in-chief had taught him how to instantly put on a poker face whenever he needed to. “What are you talking about?”
Ryo, on the other hand, had this huge stupid smirk on his face. “You’re checking him out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Actually what was more ridiculous was the way Yamashita’s office seemed a little less bright after Masuda left it, but he wasn’t going to tell Ryo that, of course.
“Come on dude, there’s nothing wrong with crushing on a staff member. I think it’d be good, actually. Even you need to have some fun once in a while.”
Yamashita sighed. “Ryo-”
Ryo lifted his hands up in defense. “Okay, whatever. I’m just saying.” He walked out again, whistling a merry tune.
Yamashita went back to his work, trying to concentrate on the first draft of the cover layout he was supposed to check for approval. After ten minutes he gave up and decided he needed a break, because the face of the guy on the cover suddenly looked a lot like Masuda.
When Ryo returned to his desk he saw a new email in his inbox. The name on top of it sparked his attention: Kato Shigeaki. The subject was “Candid Camera”, and for the life of him Ryo couldn’t figure out what the hell that could mean. This was probably some sort of payback after last week’s incident when a fashion shoot started fifteen minutes late because Ryo was busy chatting up the models. Curious as to what Shige could come up with, Ryo clicked open the email and read it.
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From: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
To: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: Candid camera
I would suggest you make a better use of your work hours, Nishikido-kun.
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Attached to the email is a picture of Ryo snoozing on his desk. This was not too alarming for Ryo - he’d probably get a warning from HR if they found out, but as long as he did his job and met the deadlines he was sure it wouldn’t be a big problem. The more remarkable thing about this was that Shige was taking photographs of him secretly. Snickering, Ryo typed up a quick reply.
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From: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
To: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
Are you stalking me, Kato?
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He couldn’t see Shige’s desk from where he was sitting, but Ryo could picture in his head how Shige looked like when he saw the email, red-faced and in a rush to reply. Sure enough, Ryo’s inbox pinged not three minutes later.
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From: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
To: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
Don’t flatter yourself.
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Ryo covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. They emailed back and forth for the next few minutes and it just got funnier and funnier.
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From: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
To: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
Just wondering why you bothered. I think you have an unhealthy level of interest in me.
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From: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
To: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
You were sleeping on the job. I was only concerned about your ineffective use of working hours and
its negative effect on the magazine.
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From: nishikido.ryo@newstyle.co.jp
To: kato.shigeaki@newstyle.co.jp
Subject: RE: Candid camera
Now that you mention ‘sleeping’, I need to assert here that I would never agree to such a thing. Not
interested, Kato, sorry. I don’t mix business with pleasure.
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There was no reply after that. At the end of the day, Shige passed Ryo’s desk on his way outside. Ryo smirked at him but Shige purposely looked the other way. The guy obviously didn’t know what he had gotten himself into. Serves him right for being a nosy, sanctimonious douchebag, Ryo thought.
During a monthly conceptual editorial meeting, the staff, usually editors, put forth suggestions for the issue to be published in the next two months. They gathered ideas and then decided a general theme that would thread the issue together. Sometimes not all of the magazine’s sections could be neatly pulled together to fit the theme, but they always tried to at least connect the most prominent sections that the majority of their readers were more interested in. These are called the three Fs: fashion, fitness and features.
Yamashita expected Masuda to pitch his idea in the next meeting but the newcomer appeared to be a little hesitant, probably because so far he had mostly just listened to the others and took notes during the meetings. After most of the staff had shared their thoughts but yet to reach a consensus, Yamashita spoke up, “Masuda-kun, do you have anything to say?”
Masuda beamed at the editor-in-chief and nodded. “Actually, yes.” He cleared his throat and detailed his ‘Fighting Man’ concept to the entire staff. Everyone listened intently and some were even nodding in agreement.
When Masuda was finished, Shige said, “I remember you mentioned this idea. It would be pretty cool, as a matter of fact.”
“I agree,” said Tegoshi. “I can already think of some stuff for health and fitness that would fit this theme. I’ve been wanting to do a report on the rising popularity of alternative martial arts like Capoeira or Muay Thai among young professionals.”
Koyama joined in, “As a general theme, it’s pretty all-encompassing. I might be able to fit in some career articles in there, about the tough competition in the job market these days, for example.”
Masuda turned to Ryo. “What do you think, Nishikido-kun?”
“I guess I’m all in if everybody’s cool about it. Ooh, wait,” he tapped his chin with the tip of a pen. “I suddenly have this idea about indie music and movie festivals; they seem to be gaining momentum again lately. They are totally fighting out there... All right, I’m in.”
“Okay then. Everybody else agrees?” Yamashita said, and was met by nods and sounds of approval from the rest of the staff. He clapped his hands together. “We’re all set then. When we meet again next week I’d like an update on each of the section. Let’s get working, people.”
That signaled the end of the meeting, and everybody got up to file out of the room. Yamashita was still rearranging his papers when he heard Koyama say to Masuda, “That was a good one, Massu!”
Glancing up discreetly, Yamashita caught Masuda smiling to Koyama. “Thanks. I’m glad you guys took the idea,” Masuda said.
Yamashita frowned. He waited until the two guys were out of earshot before asking Tegoshi, who was busy typing something in his cell phone and was among the last to go out, "What’s ‘Massu’?”
Tegoshi looked up. “Huh? ...Oh, Massu. It’s a nickname Koyama-kun came up with. Now almost everybody uses Massu instead of Masuda-kun.”
Yamashita said nothing more, but he thought it was weird how something inside him flared when he heard Koyama using a familiar nickname with Masuda. Don’t be ridiculous, he told himself. The same thing he told Ryo a few days ago, but it now sounded less convincing in his head.
“You’re being kind of obvious, you know,” Ryo told Yamashita one night as they were drinking together in a bar.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Say all you want, but I’ve seen how you look at Masuda. It’s kind of cute actually.” Ryo’s lips tilted in a grin. “I’ve never seen you like that since... I don’t know, third year of college?”
Yamashita glared. “Hey. I’ve dated a bit since then.”
“Yeah, but you were so busy working you never gave any of them much of a chance. How many relationships have you had since college that lasted more than six months?”
Yamashita opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again. Ryo sniggered and said, “Figures.”
They both drank in silence before Yamashita slowly said, “I don’t even know if he likes guys.”
It was as good as a confession, but Ryo seemed to be able to see through him anyway, and he trusted his friend not to blab about it at the office. Ryo may like to tease, but he wasn’t a gossip.
He had to give Ryo credit for not breaking into laughter or making kissy sounds on hearing his admission. Instead Ryo replied, “I kinda think he does, but you never know until you make a move, right?”
“I guess so. But then... there’s Koyama, and they seem rather close.” It must have been the drinks, because normally Yamashita wouldn’t even think of admitting his crush, let alone speaking about the suspicions he had been harboring for some time.
“Koyama?” Ryo waved his hand in dismissal. “Nah, he likes chicks. You should’ve seen it when Tegoshi brought in some swimsuit brochures from a sponsor. Koyama’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets when he saw the pictures of girls in bikinis.”
Yamashita shrugged. “I don’t know...”
Ryo shifted closer and nudged Yamashita’s shoulder. “Go get it, man. Work is important and everything, but real life is just around the corner. You of all people deserve to have some fun.”
Unable to stop a grin from spreading on his face, Yamashita covered it by taking a gulp from his glass. Then he said, “How about you, seeing anyone new?”
“Nothing right now, I’m taking it easy. It’ll happen when it happens.”
Yamashita smirked. “How about Kato?”
“What about him?” Ryo said with a raise of an eyebrow.
“People say there’s a thin line between like and dislike.”
“Pffft. Kato? Please.” Ryo sneered. “I’d sooner eat my shoe than date him.”
Yamashita was going to say he hadn’t actually mentioned anything about dating Kato, but he decided against it and merely laughed. Afterward he ordered more drinks for them.
Less than two weeks after the last editorial meeting, one of the junior writers arrived breathless at the office clutching a magazine in her hand. “They stole our theme!” she yelled, attracting the attention of the whole staff.
Raising the magazine in the air, everybody saw the picture on the cover of a man doing a boxing pose, with a line underneath that said: Fighting Man. Chaos ensued as staff members gathered around the junior writer for a closer look, their exclamations of shock and disbelief filling the whole room.
Yamashita called an emergency meeting later that day.
He flipped through the contents of the rival magazine, Men’s Fashion, as the editorial staff sat silent, and some stood, around the large conference table. The similarities between their concept and Men’s Fashion’s were irrefutable. Not only did they use the term ‘Fighting Man’ in the cover, they also tied most of the magazine’s contents with the theme. Yamashita put down the magazine on the table and pressed the bridge of his nose, feeling the sudden attack of a nasty headache.
“Is it possible they thought of the exact same idea?” one of the photographers asked.
Shige shook his head. “It’s too incredible to believe. They even used some of the designers we were planning to use for the fashion spread.”
“But we’re only in the advanced planning stage. They must’ve found out about it early in order to be able to produce something this fast,” said Koyama.
The junior writer who first brought the rival magazine spoke up cautiously, “Unless... somebody leaked the concept to them...?”
The silence in the room suddenly turned chilling. Staff members exchanged glances, possibly wondering who among them the traitor was.
“But the only people who knew about this early are...” Tegoshi left his utterance hanging, his eyes flitting awkwardly. But everybody knew who he was referring to.
“-that would be myself, Kato-kun and Yamashita-san,” a grim-faced Masuda finished the sentence.
Ryo knitted his eyebrows and blurted out sharply, “No way. Kato and Yamashita couldn’t have had a hand in this.”
Shige stared at Ryo, looking both surprised at Ryo’s words as well as the aggressive tone of voice he used. The music editor didn’t seem to notice though, going on as the attention of the whole room was fixed to him. “We all know them. Kato has worked here for three years and he has never once disappointed us. And Yamashita practically built this magazine from scratch.”
“So it could only be me, then,” Masuda said wryly.
Ryo squirmed, only now realizing how his words might have been taken to mean. “I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what it implies. I’m the one who thought of the concept anyway, Kato-kun and Yamashita-san only knew after I told them.”
Yamashita interrupted, “Look, Masuda-kun, nobody’s accusing anybody here.”
“Besides, what does he stand to gain?” Koyama chimed in, looking around at the staffers’ distrustful expressions. “If he wanted to take the concept to another magazine, he wouldn’t have stayed here.”
The whole room fell silent again as everybody considered the possibilities. Masuda sank a little lower in his seat as though he wanted to disappear into it. Yamashita felt his headache steadily getting worse.
“I would prefer we don’t throw accusations before there’s proof. I’ll report this to Matsumoto-san and Sakurai-san and see what they say,” Yamashita said. At the mention of the two shareholders of the magazine, the staff seemed a bit reassured. “In the meantime, since we obviously can’t use the previous theme, let’s try to figure out another one for the new edition.”
There were quiet groans as the staff members realized they had to start all over from the beginning. They began to shuffle out of the meeting room, but Yamashita noticed how a lot of them avoided Masuda, letting him slink outside with his shoulders slumped.
Sakurai put down his wine glass and shook his head. “This whole affair is very odd. I smell smoke.”
Yamashita sighed. He was discussing the matter during dinner at a restaurant with the two shareholders, and the more they talked about it the more complicated it seemed.
The other owner, Matsumoto, folded his hands in front of his immaculately pressed suit. “Is there anyone you suspect?” he asked.
“Masuda was the first to come up with the ‘Fighting Man’ theme,” Yamashita began.
Sakurai nodded. “The new fashion editor.”
“But that doesn’t automatically mean he did it,” Yamashita quickly added. “Anyway, before he pitched the concept at an editorial meeting, he told me and Kato about it.”
“Of course we can eliminate you,” Matsumoto said without even a moment of contemplation.
“Actually I am just as possible-”
Matsumoto lifted a finger. “Not a word. The magazine wouldn’t even be what it is right now if it hadn’t been for you.”
“We trust you, Yamashita,” said Sakurai.
Yamashita felt a sudden lump in his throat, so he simply nodded. Sakurai went on, “That leaves Kato and Masuda. Kato’s been with us for a while so he has the track record.”
“Do you think Masuda could’ve done it?” asked Matsumoto.
Was it possible? Yamashita wanted to say no, but that was his personal opinion speaking, coming from a secret part of him that only a while ago admitted he was attracted to Masuda. Then again as an editor-in-chief he had to be objective, so he settled on a diplomatic answer.
“While I don’t know him enough to judge, during the few months that he has worked with us Masuda’s performance and attitude have been exceptional. I seriously doubt he’d leak material to a rival company, but he really is in hot water right now as all suspicions point to him.”
Matsumoto and Sakurai shared a pointed look.
“We’ll make some calls. And until anyone is proven guilty there should be no finger pointing,” Sakurai said before signaling for the waiter to pour them more wine.
“Nakazawa, I need that CD review right now!” Ryo bellowed to one of the writers across the room. He swiveled in his chair to face his computer again and found Shige standing in front of his desk.
After sparing him a brief glance, Ryo reached for the keyboard and started typing rapidly. “You need something, Kato? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m rather busy here.”
“Just give me a sec.” Shige was shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Listen, I- I want to thank you. You know, for defending me at the meeting the other day.”
Ryo stopped typing and glanced up, taking in a nervous Shige worrying at his bottom lip. Ryo had always thought the head photographer was so serious and looked older than he really was, but looking at him right now reminded Ryo that Shige was actually a few years his junior.
“It was nothing. I was only saying the truth.”
“Still, I want to say thanks. I never thought you paid that much attention to me.”
Ryo remembered saying something about Shige’s history in the magazine during the emergency meeting, but he didn’t at all expect it to trigger this kind of reaction from Shige. It wasn’t something he planned on uttering; it just sort of came out instinctively.
“Don’t sweat it. I still think you’re a douchebag, but not the two-faced kind. Your douchebaggery is... one-dimensional.”
A frown clouded over Shige’s face. “Gee, that’s nice to hear.”
Something inside Ryo tugged uncomfortably. He was used to throwing taunts at Shige just for the fun of it, but there was a difference in the photographer’s disposition today that made Ryo instantly regret his childish jeers. Shige was already walking away so he quickly spoke, “Hey, wait.”
Shige stopped, turning his head only slightly like he wasn’t sure if this was worth listening to.
Ryo cleared his throat. There was no way to make this less awkward, but at least he could try to keep his voice level. “I meant it when I said you couldn’t have done it.”
No reaction at first, and then a small smile tugged at the corners of Shige’s lips. “And I meant it when I said thank you.”
Only after Shige walked off did Ryo realize he was smiling himself.
The moment Koyama saw Masuda walk back into the office after lunch at the cafeteria downstairs, his face downcast, he knew something had happened. He went over to Masuda’s desk, asking, “You okay, man?”
Masuda managed a smile that couldn’t have been more forced. He plopped down on his chair, and Koyama leaned against the desk. “Did anybody say anything...?” he asked gingerly.
Masuda shook his head. “Nobody actually said stuff, but it was the way they looked at me. All the other departments have found out about what Men’s Fashion did, and they keep giving me these stares and whispering among themselves.”
“Don’t let them get to you, Massu. Even Shige and Yamashita-san believe it wasn’t you.”
“I know, and I’m grateful for it. But it’s everybody else that’s... it’s just hard sometimes.” Masuda grabbed a pen on the desk but let it go again, instead curling his fingers into a fist.
“Massu-” Koyama began, but then stopped. He put a hand on Masuda’s shoulder and started rubbing it gently. Masuda didn’t react but he didn’t balk either.
After a while Masuda reached out and closed his hand over Koyama’s on his shoulder.
Neither noticed Yamashita standing a few meters away partially hidden by a shelf, gazing at them with an unfathomable look in his eyes.
Yamashita was not one for swearing especially at the workplace, but when he saw the writing on the envelope Masuda gave him that afternoon he blurted out, “What the hell- what is this supposed to mean, Masuda-kun?”
Sitting meekly in front of Yamashita, Masuda said in slow, precise words, “It means exactly what it says.”
Written on the envelope at Yamashita’s desk was ‘Resignation Letter’, the characters stiff and cold like the meaning it implied. Yamashita didn’t even want to open the letter. “Does this mean you’re admitting something?”
Masuda’s gaze shot up and he shook his head vehemently. “No. I didn’t leak our concept anywhere.”
“Then why are you resigning?”
Masuda wrung his hands in his lap. “Because no matter what I say some people seem bent on believing I’m the culprit. I wish I could prove otherwise, but I can’t.”
Yamashita reached out and pushed the envelope in Masuda’s direction. His words were somber when he spoke, “I do not accept this resignation.”
“But, Yamashita-san...”
“Only guilty people run away.”
Masuda’s mouth was open in astonishment, and his stare fell on the letter before turning back to his boss. Yamashita nodded in reassurance.
“Sakurai-san and Matsumoto-san are bringing in a third party to get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, keep doing what you do, Masuda-kun, which is pouring your talent into creating something magnificent for this magazine.”
The fashion editor looked like he was about to cry or hug Yamashita or both, but instead he stood up and made a deep bow. His gait seemed a little lighter when he walked out of the room.
Everything Yamashita had told Masuda was true, but there was another reason, a purely personal and possibly inappropriate reason, behind his refusal to the resignation.
Don’t go yet, he thought. Not just yet.
The third party brought in by the company shareholders turned out to be a quirky, bespectacled man named Aiba who spent half a day looking around the editorial rooms and making weird noises like “Hm” or “Ha!” while standing in front of a random staffer’s desk, making everybody nervous in the process. He spent the other half of the day at the IT department one floor above.
“He’s an IT specialist,” Matsumoto told Yamashita. “We have a hunch, and we’re following through with his help.”
“But what does IT have to do with Men’s Fashion?” asked Yamashita.
Matsumoto waggled his finger in front of his face. “You’ll see,” he said with a telling smile.
Several days afterward Aiba marched into the office flanked by Sakurai and Matsumoto on one side and Yamashita on the other. All eyes followed the pack as they made their way to Masuda’s desk, where they stopped and Aiba stepped forward, pointing at Masuda’s computer.
“This is the one!” He pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded victoriously at the three people beside him. Those words triggered a collective gasp from the crowd who had begun to gather around the desk.
Pale as a sheet, Masuda got up from his chair and asked in a wobbly voice, “What are you talking about? Yamashita-san, what is he talking about?”
“Aiba-san, please don’t scare my staff member like that.” Yamashita turned to Masuda and smiled gently. “Your computer got hacked, Masuda-kun. Someone from outside the company extracted information about our upcoming issue from your computer.”
“It could be someone who later sold the information to Men’s Fashion or someone from inside that magazine itself. Our man Aiba here was able to track them down, and we have enough proof to press charges if we want,” said Sakurai.
The revelation set off an avalanche of murmurs among the staff. Masuda staggered backward and was caught by Shige, who kindly directed him to sit back down.
Yamashita spoke up to address the crowd, “This means there is no guilty party among us after all. Whatever doubts or suspicions you might have had, I expect you to remove them this very moment. We’re starting afresh now.”
Ryo was the first to come up to Massu with his hand outstretched. “I guess we all owe you an apology.”
By now Masuda was grinning stupidly, waving a hand in front of his face. “Really, you don’t have to... oh, all right.” He stood up again and received Ryo’s offer of a handshake. The rest of the staff went up to him one by one to apologize and Masuda accepted them all without any trace of malice. The charged atmosphere that had pervaded the editorial rooms lately began to thaw, laughter and lively banter breaking through the gloom.
As Yamashita left to escort Matsumoto, Sakurai and Aiba outside, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Masuda laughing at something Tegoshi said. It was nice to see it again, that happy face.
For the next few weeks the newStyle offices were buzzing with frenzied activity, as they still had a lot to catch up on in order to be able publish the next issue on time. They had finally decided on a new theme, ‘Coming Home’, and surprisingly enough, it was once again proposed by Masuda.
“This is like the complete opposite of ‘Fighting Man’,” he had said during the editorial meeting. “I’m thinking about an image of a modern Japanese man - someone who not only cares about his career but also puts a lot of importance on the people around him: his friends, his family, his significant other, even the community. Someone who has his goals set high while also keeping his feet on the ground. This will be portrayed through a photo shoot centered at the home, a place every man returns to at the end of the day.”
He let a few second pass before adding nervously, “Oh, and Aiba-san has installed a stronger firewall on every computer so we wouldn’t get hacked again. So there’s no need to, um, you know, worry about me. About it.”
“Well, I think Men’s Fashion is the one who needs to worry,” said Tegoshi, “because we’re gonna kick ass with this issue and people will forget that sorry excuse for a magazine ever existed!”
The exclamation was welcomed with hearty laughter from the others, and Masuda seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Then they started brainstorming about the idea and by the end of the meeting everybody had agreed to use Masuda’s theme.
During the busy period Ryo found little time to drop by at the photo studio like he usually did, and he actually kind of missed being there. If he was being honest with himself, he’d admit he missed being around a certain head photographer and teasing him, but since he had no intention of being honest, he just told himself he missed seeing the models. And maybe their photographer too. But only slightly.
Ever since he had defended Shige during the whole ‘Fighting Man’ debacle, Ryo had begun questioning himself. It was true he had known Shige for quite some time, but he never thought an allegation against the photographer would have elicited so strong a response from him. Shige was fun to tease, and even more fun to argue with since Ryo usually ended up winning the majority of their arguments. And okay, maybe he was a little bit on the good-looking side, especially when his eyebrows were scrunched up when he was annoyed at something Ryo said, or when he bit his lower lip while looking for a good angle for a photo... anyway, that wasn’t the point. The main point was that Ryo found Shige only mildly interesting (and only on days when he found him interesting at all), and defending him at that meeting was something he had done on impulse and would probably never do again.
Now that the matter was settled, he supposed there was no harm in paying a visit to the studio. The models were probably missing him too. He was also curious as to how Masuda and Shige were translating the ‘Coming Home’ theme into a fashion spread.
But when he arrived at the half-darkened studio nobody was there. The set for the photo shoot - the living room, dining room and kitchen of a home - was deserted. Ryo walked up to see it closer, marveling at how everything looked so real, not at all like a set built by the props people but an actual, comfortable home.
“Nishikido-kun?”
Ryo whipped his head around and saw Shige standing at the door. “You’re a little late, I’m afraid,” Shige said, his eyes twinkling in the half-light. “The photo shoot’s over. The models have all left.”
“That I could see. I just wanted to check out how you were doing this.” Ryo waved at the direction of the set. “The props guys seem to have outdone themselves this time.”
“I agree. You want to look at the photos?” Shige stepped over to a table on one side where a laptop lay open, gesturing for Ryo to follow him. He clicked open a folder and showed Ryo some pictures from the shoot: several men talking and laughing at the living room, a man cooking in the kitchen, a group of both men and women around the dining room table during a dinner party.
“Pretty good,” Ryo said as he stood behind Shige and looked at the photos over his shoulder. “Very homey and down-to-earth, but still with our signature modern style.”
Shige turned his face upward. The light reflecting from the monitor seemed to dance in his eyes as he smiled and said, “Glad you think so, Nishikido-kun.”
Ryo thought he rarely saw Shige like this, frank and unguarded and actually pleased to be around him. It was like what happened during the last few weeks had overthrown an invisible barrier between them. Or perhaps it was really Ryo who was opening up to Shige, allowing himself to see new avenues and fresh possibilities.
“Hey, Kato,” he murmured as he inched nearer to the photographer.
“Yeah...?” Shige was also tilting his head forward, eyelids falling half closed while his lips parted. As their faces moved closer and closer Ryo couldn’t help thinking Shige was looking more than mildly interesting at this moment. No, he looked very interesting...
Rapid footsteps and someone’s voice saying “Sorry I took so long!” distracted them, and Ryo barely had a second to pull away when Masuda appeared bearing two paper cups of coffee. “Oh, hi, Nishikido-kun!” he greeted cheerfully.
Luckily Masuda was the oblivious type, but Ryo could see from the corner of his eye how Kato was shuffling awkwardly. Ryo felt his insides twist. He muttered something about an article he needed to edit and walked out of the studio as quickly as he could, ignoring Masuda’s inquiry, “Would you like some coffee too...?”
Tegoshi had been right about them kicking ass. The latest issue of newStyle disappeared off the stands like hotcakes. They received favorable feedback from readers, and, as the icing on the cake, their sales beat Men’s Fashion’s by a landslide.
“Not only are they thieves, they are also losers!” Matsumoto said as he announced the numbers, to which the staff responded with applause and loud cheers. He and Sakurai then decided to hold a celebration party at a function hall on the ground floor of their building.
On the night of the party all employees of the company mingled together - editorial, advertising, marketing, distribution - all united to celebrate the success, made sweeter after defeating the odds. But one member of the staff was conspicuously missing.
“Where’s Massu?” Tegoshi asked. “He of all people should be here.”
“He’s gone to a late fashion show with one of the writers,” replied Shige, glancing at his watch. “He should be back by now.”
Yamashita sat at a table with the shareholders and Aiba, who was explaining in detail how his new firewall would prevent any future hacker attacks against the company. Yamashita nodded and hummed at intervals but his mind was elsewhere.
Now that the drama at the editorial office was over, he thought this might be the right time to make a move on Masuda. He had been imagining various scenarios in his head over and over, and although none of them seemed perfect, he was determined not to back down. He had been waiting far too long.
When someone yelled “Massu!” and loud applause erupted near the entrance, Yamashita knew the fashion editor had arrived. He quietly excused himself from the table and headed to the source of the uproar. Everybody was eager to talk to Masuda or pat him on the back or raise their glass for him, so it took a while for Yamashita to break through the crowd. But when he finally did, this was the sight that met his eyes.
Masuda was standing side by side with Koyama, who had one arm around Masuda’s shoulder. Koyama then said something to Masuda, and the latter broke into deep, rich laughter and threw his arms around Koyama’s figure. Masuda looked so happy it made Yamashita feel something was piercing his chest.
Slowly Yamashita retreated from the crowd and made his way outside the function hall. To the employees asking where he was going he merely flashed a tight smile, maybe even said some vague excuse, but he continued to walk away from the throng of people, from the music and the laughter, and into quiet solitude.
Ryo was into his third glass of cocktail when Shige showed up, sitting beside him at the otherwise empty table. Shige cleared his throat and said, “Hi.”
“Hey.” Ryo took another gulp of his cocktail, thinking he probably needed it. After whatever it was that happened or nearly happened at the studio, he wasn’t sure how to act around Shige.
“So,” Shige was tapping his own glass with a finger, “you want to talk about the other day?”
Ryo leaned back against his chair and sighed. “Quite frankly, Kato, I don’t know if there’s anything to talk about.”
He was telling the truth. He didn’t even know want to think about his own feelings, let alone talk about them with Shige. But his answer seemed to annoy Shige, who stopped tapping his glass and stared Ryo straight in the eye.
“You- you’re like a kid in a playground, you know that?” Shige spluttered.
“What?”
“You’re the kid who likes another kid, but you don’t know how to act when you like someone so you mess around with them instead.”
“I don’t mess around,” Ryo muttered, choosing not to focus on the ‘like’ part of that accusation.
“Oh yeah?” Shige challenged. “Kiss me then.”
Ryo began to think of ways to refuse, but a tiny voice inside him told him to stop making excuses, to just trust his instincts and let things happen. So before a saner part of him had a chance to speak up, he bent forward and pressed his lips to Shige’s.
At first Ryo was forceful like he was trying to prove something, but then he lessened the pressure, focusing on touching, tasting, just easing into the kiss and letting himself enjoy it. Shige really helped too. He opened up his mouth for Ryo and reciprocated his every move, making delicious little moans that caused Ryo’s spine to tingle and got him thinking he must be doing something right.
It wasn’t until they took a moment to draw breath that Ryo realized he had put his hands around Shige’s shoulders and Shige’s arms were circled around his waist. Being in each other’s personal space felt foreign, but also - Ryo couldn’t think of another way to describe it - so right. He felt things were about to get very, very interesting indeed from now on.
“I still think you’re a douchebag, by the way,” he mumbled against Shige’s mouth.
Shige grinned. “Takes one to know one.”
Masuda had come across possibly every single employee of the company during the party, but he oddly hadn’t seen the editor-in-chief. Sakurai told him Yamashita had left their table early without saying where he was going, and that made Masuda worry a little. Yamashita should be down here celebrating, since none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for his leadership.
Still craning his neck for any sign of the chief, Masuda arrived at the cocktail bar where Ryo was getting two glasses filled. “Oi, Masuda!” Ryo clapped his back warmly. “Good work, man. May we have many more great editions to come!”
“I hope so too, Nishikido-kun.”
Masuda noticed how Ryo’s hair was a little mussed and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. Perhaps he was trying the plunging neckline style he had seen on some of the models.
Leaning over to Masuda’s ear, Ryo said conspiratorially, “Now listen. I’m going to do you a little favor.”
“What favor?”
“First of all, someone thinks you and Koyama have something going on. Which isn’t true, right?”
“Koyama? Of course not. He’s my pal.” Masuda frowned. “That someone you mentioned...”
“Well, let’s just say that person is very concerned about your relationship with Koyama. And if I were you, I’d be in a hurry to ease those concerns. This is someone who’s always stood by you, who has had nothing but complete trust in you all this time. I’m doing you a favor when I tell you this: you don’t let someone like that pass you by.”
Ryo gave him one last pat on the shoulder before grabbing a cocktail glass in each hand and strolling away. Masuda thought about what he had said: someone who was concerned... someone who trusted him...
It was like a spark lit inside Masuda, and he sprinted out of the hall to the elevators.
Masuda found him in his office, sitting behind the desk with a bottle of red wine and a half-empty glass in front of him. Yamashita looked up when he knocked on the open door.
A hint of surprise flashed across his face as he saw Masuda, but as usual Yamashita quickly composed himself. Masuda wondered if this calm and collected man had ever let anyone see his bare emotions.
“Yamashita-san?” Masuda slowly walked into the office. “Why aren’t you downstairs?”
Yamashita smiled. “I just needed a little quiet, that’s all. Congratulations, by the way, your concept was a smash.”
Masuda shook his head. “It wasn’t just me, it was all of us.”
“Still, you proved yourself very well. Even after your first idea couldn’t be used, you came up with a new one. You’re just special that way, you know?”
Special. Why hadn’t it occurred to Masuda before? That was how Yamashita always looked at him, like he was something special. Watching him, looking after him, trusting him when other people didn’t, and not for any ordinary reason. This was something deeper and not immediately palpable but always present nonetheless.
Masuda remembered what Ryo had said earlier. “Yamashita-san-”
“Yes?”
“There’s nothing between me and Koyama. We’re good friends, that’s all.”
“Oh.” If the statement triggered some kind of emotion within Yamashita, he didn’t instantly show it.
“Yeah. I just thought I’d let you know.”
When Yamashita didn’t say anything for a full minute, Masuda’s spirit deflated like a popped balloon. He took a few steps back, mumbling indistinctly, “I guess I should be, um, heading back...”
“Hey, Masuda-kun?”
Masuda stopped and looked at Yamashita, who was standing up and walking in front of his desk. Masuda watched closely and he thought he could see a change in the editor-in-chief’s expression. He was trying to reveal himself, to show what he had so carefully been keeping inside, and all of this was only for Masuda’s eyes.
“I’m not really good at this thing, but...” Yamashita’s features turned tender as he spoke, “would you like to go out with me some time? For drinks?”
Masuda did what was only natural for him to do. He opened himself up in return.
“That would be wonderful,” he replied with a smile.