Arashi: A Golden Moon (2)
FANDOM: Arashi
RATING: G
PAIRING: (broken)Sakumoto, Juntoshi, (mention of)Sakuraiba
ARCHIVE: just here
WARNING: possible OOC, AU
DATE: October 23rd, 2010
NOTES: I don't own Arashi. Very loosely based on Suga Shikao's 「黄金の月」(Ougon no Tsuki). Sequel to "This Year's Sakura."
Chapter One | Chapter Three
CHAPTER TWO | Deceiving Myself Better Than Anyone Else Can
One of the best things about Sho was how he always got things done. It didn’t matter how tight the deadline was, how many rejections he got, how impossible everything seemed.
Once, Sho was supposed to be on a two-day break from work, and they were supposed to take a small vacation together. But of course, things never went as planned. Sho had had a hectic week, and even after finishing his own work a couple of his colleagues hadn’t managed to do all of theirs. Sho stayed back at work instead, pinch hitting for them, reviewing records one moment and fact-checking for interviews the next. And then, after all of that, he called up dozens of people and sent out mass e-mails until he got in touch with someone who was able to get him a reservation for two at a restaurant where most people had to book weeks ahead of time. As far as apologies for backing out on travel plans go, it was one of the best. Jun, who loved food as much as art (as far as he was concerned, cooking was an art in itself), thought that the dinner was exquisite. And it had impressed him, that Sho managed to do all of that.
Jun wasn’t so great at getting things done. He had always known this - after all, no one would accuse him of being the capable one, not when compared to his sister. Every time he got excited about something, he’ll eventually feel overwhelmed by it, and slowly let go in the end. He learned to be careful about details, to be absolutely precise in everything he did, but he could never step back to take a look at what was making things messy, and figure out how to fix them.
As he walked slowly through the gallery, he thought about how Ohno’s work should be displayed there. Sho would have been able to do it, he knew. Sho, who could do anything, would be able to convince Ohno to do more than create in obscurity. It made him wonder why Sho hadn’t done anything before, but he already knew the answer. Together with the thing that he admired about Sho, there was the thing that frustrated him sometimes.
Sho always respected others’ wishes. It may seem like a strange thing, since he was so good at overcoming rejections, and always got people to do things his way, but the truth was he never bullied anyone into doing anything. He would be persuasive, or he would find a way around whatever thing that came between him and what he wanted, but he never bullied anyone. And with people as stubborn as Ohno, Jun knew that sometimes a little bit of bullying was necessary, especially when it was for the other person’s own good.
})i({
Ohno was surprised by the rap on his door, so early in the morning. Mom? he thought for a moment, but then remembered that his mother had promised not to come over to his place - he couldn’t stop her from tidying up things he didn’t want to be tidied up, so it was the next best thing he could think of - if he promised to visit her every week in return. Both of them have kept to their word so far, so it couldn’t have been his mother.
He walked across the living area, stepping over the newspapers he had spread across the floor, and the various objects scattered all over the place. When he opened the door he was surprised to find a man he didn’t recognise, who was wearing a suit, of all things. His first thought was, what kind of idiot wears a suit on one of the hottest days in summer?, and was followed by is he a friend of Sho’s?, both because Sho was exactly the kind of person who would do that, and Sho was the only person he knew who wore suits anyway.
“Good afternoon. I’m Ikuta from One Art Galleries.”
Ohno slammed the door shut. He wondered how the guy had found his address. He had received calls before, but he used his parents’ address for all the paperwork he had ever done, especially when it came to his paintings.
The door rattled loudly as Ikuta banged harder.
“Ohno-san? Ohno-san?” Ikuta’s voice rang out, extremely loud but somehow still annoyingly polite.
Ohno pulled the door back open and said, “I don’t need anyone controlling my work. I do what I want, when I want to.”
“Which you do, and do very well,” Ikuta interjected. “But - listen to me here - you need a manager. I promise not to interfere with your art; I just want to show them.”
“Why? So that rich, overeducated art collectors in the city could pretend that they know what I’m all about, just because they have a piece of me hanging in their homes?”
Toma smiled. “He was right. You are afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Ohno replied, frowning. “And who do you mean - Jun.” He cursed. “It’s got to be him. Sho’s not that much of a meddler.”
He had expected Jun to return. But summer was approaching, and there was still no reply about his request to have Jun model for him. The only contact he had had with Sho’s ex was when Jun called him, once. And it was only to tell Ohno that he had shown Ohno’s work to Ikuta. He had been hounded by the guy ever since.
“Look,” Toma was saying now, loosening his tie, “at One Art we respect your rights as the artist, the creator of your work. We just try to make things easier for you, and will give you the freedom to explore your own creative avenues while we take care of the business end of things.”
Ohno was getting a headache. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil from the nearest stand, he wrote down a name and number, before passing it to Ikuta. “Ninomiya Kazunari,” he said, repeating the name he had written. “Call him, talk to him. Then we’ll see.”
Ikuta was perplexed by the introduction of another person. “You already have someone managing you?” It was hard to believe, judging from Ohno’s reclusiveness. In a time when almost every artist he worked with was busy trying to gain attention and one upping each other, it was very rare to meet those like Ohno, who claimed he wanted the exact opposite.
“No. But you’re talking about business and money, and all I really want is some peace and quiet. He’ll listen to you.”
Ikuta gaped at Ohno as the artist padded away into the furthest room. “Close the door on your way out,” Ohno said absently, as he disappeared from sight.
})i({
“I went to his place,” Toma said, went Jun came into his gallery. He had promised to tell Jun whenever he brought in new work from Jun’s favourite artists, and Jun always came. He almost always left with a marginally lighter pocket, too, although Toma supposed that Jun never had to worry about money. “Although I’m not sure why you bothered helping me find him. You probably knew he’d slam the door in my face.”
Jun laughed. “I knew he won’t want anything to do with you, but I didn’t know he’d do that.”
Scowling, Toma muttered, “well, either way, I have better things to do than chase around ungrateful artists. Let him work in that cramped, messy room of his. I don’t need him, and One Art definitely don’t need him.”
With a knowing smile, Jun countered, “but you want him.” He remembered the walls full of Ohno’s work, and knew that if Toma had caught just a glimpse of it before Ohno shut the door on him, Toma would want to have Ohno’s work in his gallery. “I’m sure that you’ll find a way to get what you want. You always do.”
“That’s because he has me doing all the work for him,” a voice said from behind them, startling them both. A tall man sauntered into the place, dumping a bag on the front desk as he did. “Hey, Jun,” he said, nodding at Jun. Before Jun could reply to his greeting, he continued, “you look remarkably pale for someone who’s just been on vacation by the sea. And you don’t look any healthier, either. In fact, you look like sh- hey!” Toma had picked up his bag and flung it towards an armchair nearby. “I’ve got important, fragile stuff in there!”
“It’s good to see you too, Shun,” Jun said drily, relieved that Toma had diverted the other man’s attention from him. “And I haven’t actually been to any beach. How are things?”
“Busy,” Shun said shortly, adjusting bag to an upright position on the chair. “Toma’s been booking events left and right; I’m the one who has to deal with the consequences.”
Toma looked a little crestfallen and tried to apologise for causing Shun stress, but Jun knew that Shun thrived on it. Theirs was an interesting partnership, Jun thought, with Toma at the helm, gaining the trust of artists and patrons with his enthusiasm, even if he was a little clumsy with executing his own plans. That was where Shun, his second-in-command, comes in. He had hired Shun on a temporary basis when he had accidentally double-booked events and needed someone to help him straighten things out, but Shun had ended up staying and was the person who took care of all the details while Toma continued being the one with the (usually crazy) ideas.
“So what was it that Toma failed to do this time?”
“I haven’t failed...” Toma mumbled. “Not exactly.”
Jun reached into his bag for the issue of the magazine with Jun’s illustration. “You read this magazine, right?”
“Sometimes,” Shun replied, taking it from Jun. “It’s not all about art, and it’s more chatty than most magazines in its genre, but I like it for exactly that reason. This is an old issue, though, isn’t it...?”
“Turn to Sakurai Sho’s column.”
“Are you allergic to the word ‘boyfriend’?” Shun mused, as he turned the pages. “You were always going around saying his full name; even at events, you’d be going, ‘this is Sakurai Sho...’” he grinned at Jun as he spoke, but his mirth disappeared as Jun looked away. “Jun?”
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” Jun said, slowly. Shun felt a wave of sympathy for Jun, but knew better than to say anything. Toma’s mouth was in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, as Jun attempted to laugh, but only managed to sound bitter and self-deprecating. “It’s funny, isn’t it. That after all the time we’re together, I finally find myself able to say it, to admit how I really felt, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”
There was a long, awkward silence before Shun said, looking at Sho’s column, “I’ve seen this one. Really intriguing art, and it goes well with the article, since it makes you frustrated that the artist isn’t more exposed.”
“I went to talk to the artist, but nothing came out of it,” Toma told Shun. Jun watched the way Shun’s eyes lit up at the challenge. Shun immediately took down the details of Toma’s encounter, as well as Nino’s contact number that Ohno had given Toma. When he was satisfied, he left them, taking his bag with him.
“I hope he’ll have better luck,” Jun commented, as they watched Shun walk away. He then turned to Toma to say goodbye, but paused when he saw the uncharacteristically serious expression on his friend’s face. “Toma?”
“It matters,” Toma said. Jun frowned, wondering what Toma was talking about, but then he recalled his earlier words. “Even if it’s over, what you felt, and the time you had together, it all matters.”
“I know,” Jun said. “I didn’t mean it. I was just... I just can’t think about it right now.”
“I’m going to be done in about an hour. Want to go out?”
“Thanks, but I think I’d rather stay in and read today.”
“Bo~ring.”
Jun laughed at Toma’s tone. It reminded him of someone, somehow, but exactly who it was eluded him. “I’ve been spending a lot of time alone, you know, when I was gone. I’ve never thought of being alone as something to enjoy before, but now I think I get it. It can be a good thing, I guess.”
Toma thought about it. “By the way, when are you going to show me your pictures?”
“I didn’t take that many,” Jun lied. “And besides, I was just fooling around with the camera. It’s not like I know what I was doing.”
“Uh huh.” Toma shuffled some of the papers on his desk, dumping half of the stack back on his piling inbox. “I’ll deal with these stuff tomorrow. Or better yet, I’ll get Shun to deal with them. Come on, Iet’s go.”
“But I said -”
“I know, you want to catch up on your reading, but since you botched your last audition - yes, I heard all about it - you’re going to be free to do that in the next few days anyway, right?”
“I have other auditions to prepare for, you know,” Jun said, frowning as Toma nudged him out of the office. “Besides, it’s not even closing time yet.”
“There’s no one here but you right now, so I think it’s okay to close early. Or do you want me to ask the boss first? Oh, wait, that’s me. So, let’s go out!”
Jun opened his mouth again, but decided to stop protesting as it hit him who Toma reminded him of. Aiba. It was funny how he had been acquainted with Toma for almost as long as he had been with Sho, but he had never felt like he was really friends with the guy until now. Toma genuinely cared about cheering him up, and it touched him. And he had a feeling that Toma, like Aiba, wasn’t the sort of person he could say no to. So why bother trying?
He helped Toma close up, and stood by as Toma locked the main door. “You know,” Toma suddenly said, “you may be a little more like that Ohno guy than you think. Let me look at your photography, sometime.”
“I’m nothing like him,” Jun objected. “I’m just playing around. He’s amazing. I’m nothing like him,” he said, again.
Toma just hummed to himself, sizing Jun up.
“What?”
“I think you said something like that once, around the time you first got into Sakurai.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did, too.”
“I did not.”
“You did, too.”
“I did -” Jun sighed. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Even if I did, then so what? Both of them are amazing, even if they’re nothing like each other.”
“You’ve been obsessed with Ohno’s work for quite some time, too. I remember that you were like that, when you first read Sakurai’s column.”
“But I already knew who Sho was back then. What are you trying to say, really?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Just say it.”
“I think you like this Ohno person more than you let on.”
Toma waited, and right on cue, Jun laughed. Toma smiled; Jun was predictable that way. It made him feel a little more at ease, though. Jun had just proved him right, with the uneasy laughter, and the words that followed it.
“Don’t be stupid. You have met the guy, haven’t you? We’re so different that the very idea is laughable...”
})i({
“Oh-chan, I found you!”
Ohno blinked sleepily at Aiba, who had sat down next to him. He then turned back to his sketchbook.
“What are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
“You don’t look like you’re thinking.” Aiba peered over to see what Ohno was working on. “The hydrangeas are really lovely, aren’t they? Although, it’s been sometime since you did things other than portraits, huh?”
Ohno closed his sketchbook. “Aiba.”
“Hmm?” Aiba tilted his head quizzically.
“Is there anything you wanted?”
“Oh! I was looking for you because Sho and I want to remind you that you’re coming over for dinner tonight. Um. You’re still coming, right?”
“Mm.” Ohno waited, but Aiba was still looking at him. “Was that all?”
“Nope. Nino also wanted to make sure you’ll come, because you haven’t been picking up your phone and, you know, he’s pretty mad at you for giving his contact info away to some gallery because this guy kept calling him and asking about you.”
The blurriness in Ohno’s eyes cleared up, as his gaze on Aiba sharpened. “Sorry. I didn’t know that they’d be that persistent.”
“Apologise to him, not me.”
“I will.”
“Hey, Oh-chan...” Aiba started. “You’re okay, right?”
Amused, Ohno smiled. “Why’d you ask me that?”
“Well, you’ve been kind of out of it these days. I mean, more than usual.”
“I’m fine, Aiba.” Ohno patted Aiba’s shoulder, and stood up. “I just have things on my mind, that’s all.”
“Okay,” Aiba replied, satisfied with Ohno’s answer. “I’ll see you later,” he said, as he, too, stood up. “I need to get back now. Next time, answer your phone calls!”
As soon as Aiba was gone, Ohno flipped open his sketchbook again. Aiba was right. He hadn’t done any portraits in awhile. He hadn’t done anything that he felt strongly about, either - everything he did came out rather half-hearted, like he really wasn’t into it.
So he turned away from unfinished drawings and paintings of cherry blossoms that he would not see a second time, and the portraits he could never get just right, and distracted himself with the hydrangeas. Because Aiba was right about two things - the flowers were pretty, and sketching them out was a mindless task, something he could do on autopilot. It was just about the only thing he could get right, in his current ‘slump’, as Sho would probably put it.
He didn’t like to think about it too much, though, because then he would have to pinpoint to when exactly he started feeling that way, and ask himself why.
~ to be continued ~
Chapter One | Chapter Three
Marineko's Notes:
Hi everyone, long time no see...? ^_^''
RATING: G
PAIRING: (broken)Sakumoto, Juntoshi, (mention of)Sakuraiba
ARCHIVE: just here
WARNING: possible OOC, AU
DATE: October 23rd, 2010
NOTES: I don't own Arashi. Very loosely based on Suga Shikao's 「黄金の月」(Ougon no Tsuki). Sequel to "This Year's Sakura."
Chapter One | Chapter Three
CHAPTER TWO | Deceiving Myself Better Than Anyone Else Can
One of the best things about Sho was how he always got things done. It didn’t matter how tight the deadline was, how many rejections he got, how impossible everything seemed.
Once, Sho was supposed to be on a two-day break from work, and they were supposed to take a small vacation together. But of course, things never went as planned. Sho had had a hectic week, and even after finishing his own work a couple of his colleagues hadn’t managed to do all of theirs. Sho stayed back at work instead, pinch hitting for them, reviewing records one moment and fact-checking for interviews the next. And then, after all of that, he called up dozens of people and sent out mass e-mails until he got in touch with someone who was able to get him a reservation for two at a restaurant where most people had to book weeks ahead of time. As far as apologies for backing out on travel plans go, it was one of the best. Jun, who loved food as much as art (as far as he was concerned, cooking was an art in itself), thought that the dinner was exquisite. And it had impressed him, that Sho managed to do all of that.
Jun wasn’t so great at getting things done. He had always known this - after all, no one would accuse him of being the capable one, not when compared to his sister. Every time he got excited about something, he’ll eventually feel overwhelmed by it, and slowly let go in the end. He learned to be careful about details, to be absolutely precise in everything he did, but he could never step back to take a look at what was making things messy, and figure out how to fix them.
As he walked slowly through the gallery, he thought about how Ohno’s work should be displayed there. Sho would have been able to do it, he knew. Sho, who could do anything, would be able to convince Ohno to do more than create in obscurity. It made him wonder why Sho hadn’t done anything before, but he already knew the answer. Together with the thing that he admired about Sho, there was the thing that frustrated him sometimes.
Sho always respected others’ wishes. It may seem like a strange thing, since he was so good at overcoming rejections, and always got people to do things his way, but the truth was he never bullied anyone into doing anything. He would be persuasive, or he would find a way around whatever thing that came between him and what he wanted, but he never bullied anyone. And with people as stubborn as Ohno, Jun knew that sometimes a little bit of bullying was necessary, especially when it was for the other person’s own good.
})i({
Ohno was surprised by the rap on his door, so early in the morning. Mom? he thought for a moment, but then remembered that his mother had promised not to come over to his place - he couldn’t stop her from tidying up things he didn’t want to be tidied up, so it was the next best thing he could think of - if he promised to visit her every week in return. Both of them have kept to their word so far, so it couldn’t have been his mother.
He walked across the living area, stepping over the newspapers he had spread across the floor, and the various objects scattered all over the place. When he opened the door he was surprised to find a man he didn’t recognise, who was wearing a suit, of all things. His first thought was, what kind of idiot wears a suit on one of the hottest days in summer?, and was followed by is he a friend of Sho’s?, both because Sho was exactly the kind of person who would do that, and Sho was the only person he knew who wore suits anyway.
“Good afternoon. I’m Ikuta from One Art Galleries.”
Ohno slammed the door shut. He wondered how the guy had found his address. He had received calls before, but he used his parents’ address for all the paperwork he had ever done, especially when it came to his paintings.
The door rattled loudly as Ikuta banged harder.
“Ohno-san? Ohno-san?” Ikuta’s voice rang out, extremely loud but somehow still annoyingly polite.
Ohno pulled the door back open and said, “I don’t need anyone controlling my work. I do what I want, when I want to.”
“Which you do, and do very well,” Ikuta interjected. “But - listen to me here - you need a manager. I promise not to interfere with your art; I just want to show them.”
“Why? So that rich, overeducated art collectors in the city could pretend that they know what I’m all about, just because they have a piece of me hanging in their homes?”
Toma smiled. “He was right. You are afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Ohno replied, frowning. “And who do you mean - Jun.” He cursed. “It’s got to be him. Sho’s not that much of a meddler.”
He had expected Jun to return. But summer was approaching, and there was still no reply about his request to have Jun model for him. The only contact he had had with Sho’s ex was when Jun called him, once. And it was only to tell Ohno that he had shown Ohno’s work to Ikuta. He had been hounded by the guy ever since.
“Look,” Toma was saying now, loosening his tie, “at One Art we respect your rights as the artist, the creator of your work. We just try to make things easier for you, and will give you the freedom to explore your own creative avenues while we take care of the business end of things.”
Ohno was getting a headache. Grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil from the nearest stand, he wrote down a name and number, before passing it to Ikuta. “Ninomiya Kazunari,” he said, repeating the name he had written. “Call him, talk to him. Then we’ll see.”
Ikuta was perplexed by the introduction of another person. “You already have someone managing you?” It was hard to believe, judging from Ohno’s reclusiveness. In a time when almost every artist he worked with was busy trying to gain attention and one upping each other, it was very rare to meet those like Ohno, who claimed he wanted the exact opposite.
“No. But you’re talking about business and money, and all I really want is some peace and quiet. He’ll listen to you.”
Ikuta gaped at Ohno as the artist padded away into the furthest room. “Close the door on your way out,” Ohno said absently, as he disappeared from sight.
})i({
“I went to his place,” Toma said, went Jun came into his gallery. He had promised to tell Jun whenever he brought in new work from Jun’s favourite artists, and Jun always came. He almost always left with a marginally lighter pocket, too, although Toma supposed that Jun never had to worry about money. “Although I’m not sure why you bothered helping me find him. You probably knew he’d slam the door in my face.”
Jun laughed. “I knew he won’t want anything to do with you, but I didn’t know he’d do that.”
Scowling, Toma muttered, “well, either way, I have better things to do than chase around ungrateful artists. Let him work in that cramped, messy room of his. I don’t need him, and One Art definitely don’t need him.”
With a knowing smile, Jun countered, “but you want him.” He remembered the walls full of Ohno’s work, and knew that if Toma had caught just a glimpse of it before Ohno shut the door on him, Toma would want to have Ohno’s work in his gallery. “I’m sure that you’ll find a way to get what you want. You always do.”
“That’s because he has me doing all the work for him,” a voice said from behind them, startling them both. A tall man sauntered into the place, dumping a bag on the front desk as he did. “Hey, Jun,” he said, nodding at Jun. Before Jun could reply to his greeting, he continued, “you look remarkably pale for someone who’s just been on vacation by the sea. And you don’t look any healthier, either. In fact, you look like sh- hey!” Toma had picked up his bag and flung it towards an armchair nearby. “I’ve got important, fragile stuff in there!”
“It’s good to see you too, Shun,” Jun said drily, relieved that Toma had diverted the other man’s attention from him. “And I haven’t actually been to any beach. How are things?”
“Busy,” Shun said shortly, adjusting bag to an upright position on the chair. “Toma’s been booking events left and right; I’m the one who has to deal with the consequences.”
Toma looked a little crestfallen and tried to apologise for causing Shun stress, but Jun knew that Shun thrived on it. Theirs was an interesting partnership, Jun thought, with Toma at the helm, gaining the trust of artists and patrons with his enthusiasm, even if he was a little clumsy with executing his own plans. That was where Shun, his second-in-command, comes in. He had hired Shun on a temporary basis when he had accidentally double-booked events and needed someone to help him straighten things out, but Shun had ended up staying and was the person who took care of all the details while Toma continued being the one with the (usually crazy) ideas.
“So what was it that Toma failed to do this time?”
“I haven’t failed...” Toma mumbled. “Not exactly.”
Jun reached into his bag for the issue of the magazine with Jun’s illustration. “You read this magazine, right?”
“Sometimes,” Shun replied, taking it from Jun. “It’s not all about art, and it’s more chatty than most magazines in its genre, but I like it for exactly that reason. This is an old issue, though, isn’t it...?”
“Turn to Sakurai Sho’s column.”
“Are you allergic to the word ‘boyfriend’?” Shun mused, as he turned the pages. “You were always going around saying his full name; even at events, you’d be going, ‘this is Sakurai Sho...’” he grinned at Jun as he spoke, but his mirth disappeared as Jun looked away. “Jun?”
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore,” Jun said, slowly. Shun felt a wave of sympathy for Jun, but knew better than to say anything. Toma’s mouth was in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, as Jun attempted to laugh, but only managed to sound bitter and self-deprecating. “It’s funny, isn’t it. That after all the time we’re together, I finally find myself able to say it, to admit how I really felt, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”
There was a long, awkward silence before Shun said, looking at Sho’s column, “I’ve seen this one. Really intriguing art, and it goes well with the article, since it makes you frustrated that the artist isn’t more exposed.”
“I went to talk to the artist, but nothing came out of it,” Toma told Shun. Jun watched the way Shun’s eyes lit up at the challenge. Shun immediately took down the details of Toma’s encounter, as well as Nino’s contact number that Ohno had given Toma. When he was satisfied, he left them, taking his bag with him.
“I hope he’ll have better luck,” Jun commented, as they watched Shun walk away. He then turned to Toma to say goodbye, but paused when he saw the uncharacteristically serious expression on his friend’s face. “Toma?”
“It matters,” Toma said. Jun frowned, wondering what Toma was talking about, but then he recalled his earlier words. “Even if it’s over, what you felt, and the time you had together, it all matters.”
“I know,” Jun said. “I didn’t mean it. I was just... I just can’t think about it right now.”
“I’m going to be done in about an hour. Want to go out?”
“Thanks, but I think I’d rather stay in and read today.”
“Bo~ring.”
Jun laughed at Toma’s tone. It reminded him of someone, somehow, but exactly who it was eluded him. “I’ve been spending a lot of time alone, you know, when I was gone. I’ve never thought of being alone as something to enjoy before, but now I think I get it. It can be a good thing, I guess.”
Toma thought about it. “By the way, when are you going to show me your pictures?”
“I didn’t take that many,” Jun lied. “And besides, I was just fooling around with the camera. It’s not like I know what I was doing.”
“Uh huh.” Toma shuffled some of the papers on his desk, dumping half of the stack back on his piling inbox. “I’ll deal with these stuff tomorrow. Or better yet, I’ll get Shun to deal with them. Come on, Iet’s go.”
“But I said -”
“I know, you want to catch up on your reading, but since you botched your last audition - yes, I heard all about it - you’re going to be free to do that in the next few days anyway, right?”
“I have other auditions to prepare for, you know,” Jun said, frowning as Toma nudged him out of the office. “Besides, it’s not even closing time yet.”
“There’s no one here but you right now, so I think it’s okay to close early. Or do you want me to ask the boss first? Oh, wait, that’s me. So, let’s go out!”
Jun opened his mouth again, but decided to stop protesting as it hit him who Toma reminded him of. Aiba. It was funny how he had been acquainted with Toma for almost as long as he had been with Sho, but he had never felt like he was really friends with the guy until now. Toma genuinely cared about cheering him up, and it touched him. And he had a feeling that Toma, like Aiba, wasn’t the sort of person he could say no to. So why bother trying?
He helped Toma close up, and stood by as Toma locked the main door. “You know,” Toma suddenly said, “you may be a little more like that Ohno guy than you think. Let me look at your photography, sometime.”
“I’m nothing like him,” Jun objected. “I’m just playing around. He’s amazing. I’m nothing like him,” he said, again.
Toma just hummed to himself, sizing Jun up.
“What?”
“I think you said something like that once, around the time you first got into Sakurai.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did, too.”
“I did not.”
“You did, too.”
“I did -” Jun sighed. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Even if I did, then so what? Both of them are amazing, even if they’re nothing like each other.”
“You’ve been obsessed with Ohno’s work for quite some time, too. I remember that you were like that, when you first read Sakurai’s column.”
“But I already knew who Sho was back then. What are you trying to say, really?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Just say it.”
“I think you like this Ohno person more than you let on.”
Toma waited, and right on cue, Jun laughed. Toma smiled; Jun was predictable that way. It made him feel a little more at ease, though. Jun had just proved him right, with the uneasy laughter, and the words that followed it.
“Don’t be stupid. You have met the guy, haven’t you? We’re so different that the very idea is laughable...”
})i({
“Oh-chan, I found you!”
Ohno blinked sleepily at Aiba, who had sat down next to him. He then turned back to his sketchbook.
“What are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
“You don’t look like you’re thinking.” Aiba peered over to see what Ohno was working on. “The hydrangeas are really lovely, aren’t they? Although, it’s been sometime since you did things other than portraits, huh?”
Ohno closed his sketchbook. “Aiba.”
“Hmm?” Aiba tilted his head quizzically.
“Is there anything you wanted?”
“Oh! I was looking for you because Sho and I want to remind you that you’re coming over for dinner tonight. Um. You’re still coming, right?”
“Mm.” Ohno waited, but Aiba was still looking at him. “Was that all?”
“Nope. Nino also wanted to make sure you’ll come, because you haven’t been picking up your phone and, you know, he’s pretty mad at you for giving his contact info away to some gallery because this guy kept calling him and asking about you.”
The blurriness in Ohno’s eyes cleared up, as his gaze on Aiba sharpened. “Sorry. I didn’t know that they’d be that persistent.”
“Apologise to him, not me.”
“I will.”
“Hey, Oh-chan...” Aiba started. “You’re okay, right?”
Amused, Ohno smiled. “Why’d you ask me that?”
“Well, you’ve been kind of out of it these days. I mean, more than usual.”
“I’m fine, Aiba.” Ohno patted Aiba’s shoulder, and stood up. “I just have things on my mind, that’s all.”
“Okay,” Aiba replied, satisfied with Ohno’s answer. “I’ll see you later,” he said, as he, too, stood up. “I need to get back now. Next time, answer your phone calls!”
As soon as Aiba was gone, Ohno flipped open his sketchbook again. Aiba was right. He hadn’t done any portraits in awhile. He hadn’t done anything that he felt strongly about, either - everything he did came out rather half-hearted, like he really wasn’t into it.
So he turned away from unfinished drawings and paintings of cherry blossoms that he would not see a second time, and the portraits he could never get just right, and distracted himself with the hydrangeas. Because Aiba was right about two things - the flowers were pretty, and sketching them out was a mindless task, something he could do on autopilot. It was just about the only thing he could get right, in his current ‘slump’, as Sho would probably put it.
He didn’t like to think about it too much, though, because then he would have to pinpoint to when exactly he started feeling that way, and ask himself why.
~ to be continued ~
Chapter One | Chapter Three
Marineko's Notes:
Hi everyone, long time no see...? ^_^''