Fic for crystallekil
Title: Finish Your Collapse and Stay for Breakfast
By: spiritdream
Pairing: Akanishi Jin/Kamenashi Kazuya
Rating: PG-13
Genre/Warnings: pre-slash / nothing I can think of
Prompt (if used): May one be pardoned and retain the offence?
Notes: for crystallekil. ♥ I tried to stick to your preferences, hope the fic won't be a huge disappointment with the absence of actual boy-on-boy action. >_>; Title is taken from a Broken Social Scene track, the movie premise was inspired by the Taiwanese drama series Black & White. Wakatakeni is a popular Japanese spring dish made from simmered bamboo shoots and wakame. I'm not sure about the name of Shirota Yuu's younger sister as I only relied on one source. As the story was written before Jin's solo concert announcement, every parallel between fiction and real life is purely coincidental. :)
Summary: We're in this together until the end, after all. As promised.
Jin wakes to his phone ringing somewhere on his right, and burrows deeper under the covers to block out the sound. Whoever is calling seems persistent enough, because within a few seconds of blissful silence after the voicemail kicks in boom boom boom echoes in his empty apartment, louder and louder until Fergie starts singing and the voicemail cuts her off again. Jin is on that hazy edge of drowsiness where noise and thought melt together, where everything is warm and sluggish through the milky surface of glass panels, and he easily slips back to sleep.
When he comes around again, the sun is peaking through the curtains, almost blinding him. His shirt sticks to his back like second skin and his phone is eerily silent, the little red light flashing almost continuously to get someone's attention. Jin rolls to the other side of the bed, successfully untangles his right hand from the snug cocoon of blankets and sheet, and grabs for his phone. There's a text message from his manager from eleven minutes ago with a curt Please, call. Now., then another and another and thirteen more with a few missed calls - approximately twenty and counting, Jin notes sleepily - mixed in between.
When Jin came back from his sabbatical from Los Angeles, the Agency thought it was high time to assign him his very own personal manager as all the other members had theirs for a while. Jin was so overwhelmed with being the wayward son of the entertainment industry and keeping up with KAT-TUN activities that he thought to protest only three months later, when Reika-san handed him the script to Yukan Club, along with a contract to sign. He did so with minimal fuss, because Reika-san may look like a fragile woman of pint-sized proportions a good head shorter than him, all soft smiles and gentle disposition, but she's the sort of woman who doesn't bend to anyone - even to the top branches of the Agency, let alone to Jin. In many aspects she reminds Jin a lot of his mother; and he's kind of glad but also a little bit horrified with discovering the similarities.
So Jin does as he's instructed, and Reika-san picks her phone up after the second ring.
"Good morning," she greets him politely; her voice melodious and soothing like a slow-flowing river even through the static, and Jin murmurs something likewise.
"Come into the office, please."
"It's my day off," he starts to say after a few beats of confused silence, but Reika-san has already hung up on him with a quiet See you, and Jin's starting to have a bad feeling about this day.
He can still feel his right arm ache a bit from when he banged his elbow into the shower stall while he makes a quick stop at Starbucks on the way. He pulls the baseball cap lower, his jacket collar a little higher while he makes sure that the sunglasses cover the rest of his face. He still has to repeat his order once because the girl behind the counter just keeps staring and blinking at him, her lips forming a shapely O in a perfect imitation of a fish. Jin resists the urge to tap his feet and concentrates hard on not to turn to the woman standing next to him in line instead. She has a little girl on her arm and she fumbles with her phone to very subtly take several dozen pictures of Jin.
He takes the coffee with a slight nod and thanks from the now blushing barista, pays, then quickly ducks out onto the street and slides into his car, relieved.
The Agency is busy even on a Saturday morning, a constant buzz of nervous energy with people running left and right who only spar Jin a tight nod at most when they see him in the hall. The urgency seeps through his skin and nestles into his cells, flows with his blood from head to toe. He can still feel it humming in his veins after the elevator door shuts the rest of the world out, leaving him alone in blissful silence. He ignores his reflection in the gleaming surface of the mirror walls and keeps track of the passing levels instead, numbers and contours melting to a yellow smear the longer he stares.
-
He finds Reika-san sitting behind her desk. The surface is spotless and shining black, and everything has its exact place from the tiny paper clippings through the sleeping computer, down to the white little coffee mug next to her left elbow. Her eyes are glued to a stack of papers lying in front of her, gaze drinking in the printed, ant-sized letters row by row.
"Morning," Jin says, his voice scratcing the silence while he makes his way to the leather couch. It's big, comfortable, and it takes little time for Jin to find his favorite spot and nestle into the corner, back resting against the soft cushions. She glances at him and sets the papers aside, the tiny crease between her brows dissolving so fast that Jin almost believes he's only imagined it.
"Thank you for coming," she greets Jin with a breeze of a smile. Sunlight streams through the drapes and glides down her dark locks, tumbles in the folds of her shirt, crisp and fresh as the first snow of winter. She looks him over quickly, taking note of his unshaven face and the bruised circles under his eyes, and Jin knows it's not only his physical appearance she's cataloging. For a second, her gaze is piercing and hard like a hawk's, but before Jin could register the danger and snap out of his lazy slouch, her eyes quickly melt to her usual, mellow cinder-brown.
"I'm sorry for the sudden call, but we have a situation."
Jin's stomach jumps and his heart skips a beat. "Situation?" he asks, and he's surprised that his voice doesn't sound as breathless as he currently feels.
"It's nothing serious," Reika-san adds soothingly, and Jin would even believe her if her fingertips weren't turning white from the pressure she's clasping her hands together on top of the desk. "Mostly concerns your private life."
Jin is feeling even less reassured now, and thinks back on what might be so scandalous about his affairs to warrant a meeting with his manager on a Saturday morning. When he comes up with a dozen and more reasons in the nick of a few seconds, he decides to save what he can.
"I'm sorry," he breathes, and mentally curses himself when it doesn't come off as remorseful as he's intended it to be.
Reika-san looks a little bit startled. "Are you?"
"I'm truly sorry. I didn't know the pictures would be that much of a problem. I'll be more careful next time." Jin feels like a broken record player repeating the same verse over and over again. He's said these sentences countless times in the past few years, though after the Agency assigned him Reika-san, the apologies became few and far between.
When Reika-san still looks somewhat confused even after his explanation, Jin starts babbling about that they were all of legal age, or at least he thinks so, and none of them celebrities except a Horipro trainee with a few, minor commercial deals. His palm is warm and sweaty, but his fingers feel numb as they're clinging to the armrest. When Reika-san lifts her hand, he bites his tongue and falls silent.
"Have you done something I should be aware of?" she asks, her face smooth like porcelain and her voice as calm as ever. Jin doesn't know what she's thinking, can't read her at all.
"I don't think so." When she questioningly lifts an eyebrow, he tries again. "Maybe?"
"What do you think I've called you in for?"
"The pictures from the party last week. And the articles." Not that he keeps track of those, but the problem lies with one - if not all - of them, he's sure. It always does.
"Jin," she sighs, a touch of exasperation and amusement lingering behind his name. "I don't care about rumors or party pictures, or about any of your private affairs that become public. As long as you keep whatever you do within legal restrictions, or don't find yourself suddenly with parental responsibilities, I doubt the Agency will be more interested other than issuing a statement, if even that. I believe I've succeeded in convincing the top branch that their scolding would fall on flat ears."
Jin doesn't know whether to be relieved that the Agency doesn't care about his weekly scandals as long as he doesn't do anything outrageous, or be offended that they've already written him off as a lost cause.
"Then why am I here?" he asks, feeling a bit confused and lost. Annoyance flares behind his eyes, fleeting but still noticeable - it's a Saturday morning, after all, and he could be sleeping in like every other normal person he knows.
Reika-san doesn't say anything for a few seconds, just looks at him, her eyes warm and expression serene, her whole posture straight. Jin knows that showing his displeasure won't get him anywhere - it's never worked with her before, and he doubts it's going to start now - so he reins his temper in and wills himself to at least look attentive.
"You have a new project. It's a movie role," she starts, reaching for the papers she'd been looking at when Jin came in. "It's a crime movie, and you have one of the lead roles. Shooting starts in a week if you pass the reading."
Jin just stares at her, his shoulders rigid and heart beating madly within his chest. He's still asleep. He must be dreaming. It's a Saturday morning, after all.
"I know the group has the upcoming tour and you have to attend rehearsals. We'll work around the schedule. Jin, you," she stops, eyes flickering between Jin and the stack of papers she's holding before she continues, "you can't refuse. I know it's not the best time to do this, and I know it's sudden, but the director is Kawamoto Hiroshi, and he personally called Kitagawa-san to ask for you."
Jin takes the papers in a daze. He notes the slight trembling of his fingers, but can't feel anything other than a dull prickling under his fingernails. Kawamoto Hiroshi, many times- winner of Best Director of the Japanese Academy Awards, Berlin International Film Festival, Montreal Film Festival, and probably other prestigious film festivals Jin can't remember the name of wants him to participate in one of his projects.
Now he knows he's dreaming.
"How… I mean, why… I mean-" he tries to speak after a few tries, his throat parched as the desert sand.
Reika-san shakes her head. "I don't know, I haven't been told. It's not important. You have the script, try to get familiar with it. The scene you should prepare for is marked, the reading will take place in," she quickly glances at the clock hanging above Jin's head, "six hours."
Jin tries to swallow the sudden lump pressing against the back of his throat but ends up coughing. He feels light-headed when he gets his breathing back to normal, the whole world spinning around him in lazy circles.
Why anyone thought he would refuse is a mystery Jin can't be bothered to solve now. He takes a deep, calming breath and starts to go through pages of a world built in a man's mind, his vision blurred at the edges and mind still dizzy from shock.
-
He's walking down the corridor, led by a girl whose long ponytail sways with her every step. She's a pretty thing, miles of legs and tiny waist, and Jin would talk to her and maybe get her number if he wasn't so nervous.
The character he's playing is probably the most interesting and challenging he's had up to date. According to the script, he's a young cop devoted to beautiful women and fast cars, has an inexplicable fear of death considering his profession, and tends to avoid strenuous activities like actual work with an almost burning passion. With his usual luck he stumbles upon a raid and lets the target get away, which in the end causes him to transfer to another department and work as a team with his total opposite - someone workaholic and driven to the brink of obsessive justice. The two of them start working together on a case but end up with more than they can chew, soon running from both sides of the law and trying to stay alive at least until they find the true head of the ultimate evil organization.
He has every intention of securing his role because the script is amazing and his character is awesome, and the Agency will probably have his head if he lets this chance slip away. But he's most excited about starring in a honest to god action movie, with raids and shooting, car races and spectacular explosions.
He can't wait to brag about this to Yamapi, let alone to Ryo. Emotionally conflicted cops turned criminals are way cooler than noble samurai turned pastry chefs, after all.
The girl stops in front of a door, and with a charming smile on her face she tells him to go in and promptly takes her leave.
When Jin steps inside with a polite greeting ready on his lips, he comes face to face with Kawamoto Hiroshi and Kamenashi Kazuya.
Jin solves the mystery five and a half hours after he's started reading the script.
-
Reika-san is waiting for him in the lobby and Jin says goodbye to Kame with a slight nod. The tension is thick and oppressive between Reika-san and him in the car, can be cut with a knife as quickly and easily as butter.
"Congratulation on officially getting the role," she breaks the silence, and Jin bites the inside of his mouth to stop a scream from breaking free.
"Thanks," he snaps instead, the word hard and stinging from suppressed anger, tearing into the plush surface of the seats.
"You knew," Jin starts after he takes a deep, calming breath. "You knew from the beginning that Kamenashi had the role of the other cop."
"Yes, I did," she agrees.
"And," Jin continues, his jaw clenching and eyes flashing thunderstorms while he looks out the window, "this little bit of information wasn't important enough to tell me."
They stop at a red lamp and Reika-san lets out a tiny sigh.
"No. Because no matter how much you would have raged against it, it couldn't be changed. I needed you to concentrate fully on the script."
Jin swallows and thumps the back of his head against the headrest.
"I'm not angry about starring in a movie with Kamenashi," Jin says tiredly, like his whole energy is torn from him with a snap of someone's fingers. "I'm angry because it came as a surprise out of nowhere."
"But it helped with acting all surprised and confused for the reading, I hope."
And he grudgingly admits that yes, it did. This doesn't make him feel any less indignant, though.
"So you're not angry that you and Kamenashi-san have to participate in the same project, together?"
Jin bites into his lower lip before he answers. "I'm sure that we can be civil to each other. We're both adults, after all."
And he's pretty sure he can do it. If he thinks of the movie like any other KAT-TUN project, remaining polite and treating Kame like he would any other colleague on set shouldn't be a problem. They've been doing that for years now. He just has to block and forget what happened the last time he and Kame acted in something together, and everything should be fine.
They should be fine.
"Good. Because the Agency thought it best to bring the group's famous AkaKame pair back to the market. It would give publicity to the upcoming concert tour, and it would also increase interest in the movie."
Jin's ears are ringing faintly and it feels like he's free-falling and can see the ground coming towards him at neck-breaking speed.
"It won't work. It's too sudden, after the way we've acted around each other on camera. No one will believe it," he says. His voice is calm and what he says sounds reasonable, even though Jin can't feel his lips forming the words and his throat producing the sounds.
"Jin," Reika-san starts, and there's a certain sadness hiding behind the syllable. "You're an idol. It's your job to make them believe."
-
"I hate my job," Jin exclaims, his words slurring to almost unintelligible after his sixth vodka shot.
"A great many people would sell their souls in a heartbeat to have your job," Ryo reminds him while he takes a bite from his dinner, and Yamapi only hums in agreement as he steals some grilled meat from Jin's plate.
"I hate you too."
"No, you don't. It's your job you hate."
"I wish I could have a normal job," Jin sighs wistfully, and Ryo shoots him a look that speaks volumes.
"I don't think you're missing much, actually," Yamapi muses, his fingers holding his chopsticks loosely while he gestures with his free hand. "You do your job, whore yourself to your customers and look hard-working to the management, bitch at some of your co-workers and at the end of the day you get drunk with a few of your colleagues. Repeat. No big difference."
"That actually makes sense," Ryo agrees, taking a sip from his beer.
"See? I told you. Jin, you're nothing special. No hating on your normal job."
"Hating my job is normal."
"Maybe. But not doing your job properly will get you sacked sooner rather than later."
Jin frowns, and his mouth thins to a white line, his whole posture radiating displeasure and annoyance.
"So what. Should I just smile and pretend to be all best friends forever with Kamenashi again?"
Yamapi nods a few times empathically while Ryo just shrugs. "It's your neck on the line."
"I don't like this. Any of this. At all," he emphasizes as the lamp on their table decides to sway to the song coming from the radio.
"Then do something about it, for fuck's sake. Or roll with it, whatever. I don't care anymore. Just stop whining," Ryo snaps, and his annoyance is only half-fake. Jin's too far gone to pick on it, but Yamapi shoots Ryo a warning glance across the table to which Ryo just rolls his eyes.
"You say I'm not even allowed to whine. Show displeasure? Unprofessional. Be anything less than perfect? Heresy." He lifts his glass and it's halfway to his mouth when he realizes it's empty. "And now I'm not even allowed to drink," he sighs as Yamapi shouts for another round.
"You know, I hate my life," Jin proclaims with drunken conviction. Yamapi pats his back and the comforting gesture almost sends Jin face-first into his plate.
"That's the spirit," Ryo deadpans before taking another bite of his dinner.
-
The next day Jin wakes to a rollercoaster spinning in his stomach, and he barely makes it to the toilet in time. He drinks a whole bottle of water, the liquid cold and fresh as ice, and takes two painkillers while he's in the kitchen. His head is pounding so hard his vision starts to dim, so he staggers back to the bed and falls asleep within beats.
-
On Monday, everybody offers their congratulations and the rehearsal goes off without a hitch. It's lunch break and the juniors are busy stuffing their faces or rolling on the floor of their practice room. Junno's off to somewhere and Ueda's been on his phone since the beginning of their break, currently neck-deep in some furniture buying crisis with his girlfriend. Jin just came back from outside, the bitter tint of smoke still clinging to his hair and shirt, only to catch Koki glance subtly in Kame's direction the seventh time since morning. Neither their tour, nor the shooting for the movie have started, but Kame already looks a little worn around the edges. Jin wonders what he's worrying about, but knowing Kame it can be anything from not making the curry spicy enough last night to visiting a terminally ill family member in the hospital.
Kame will tell Jin what's bothering him when he wants to, but it's been literally ages since Kame's confided in him about anything. To tell the truth, Jin doesn't even want to know much. Keeping their distance is probably the smartest thing they can do. He doesn't even want to entertain the possibility of getting close to Kame again, the first fall-out was catastrophic enough to make them never ever allow for another opportunity. Jin thinks their detachedness actually helped with the whole Los Angeles thing, but deep down in the hidden part of his soul where he's forever eighteen and the world is still interesting and fun, it came as a shock and hurt like a train-wreck when Kame calmly told them in that little, secluded room that he didn't want Jin to rejoin the group for the tour.
Not as tearing and bleeding as the first time when Jin practically begged him to refuse the collaboration for the special unit and be patient, to wait for them a bit more because they were almost there - but Kame just looked at him with unreadable eyes, and Jin had known his answer even before Kame shook his head and simply said no.
His second refusal came just as unexpectedly, though the hurt Jin felt resembled more to a dull, persistent ache in his chest that was more annoying than painful.
Jin's not interested in Kame and Kame's life any more than Kame is interested in him or his, he's sure. This movie thing shouldn't change the carefully built balance between them, not even with all their public declarations of reconciled friendship. It'll be all for show anyway.
"Akanishi," someone calls from the side. Jin turns towards the sound and sees Nakamaru hunched over some papers.
"Hm?"
Maru looks up with a slight frown, his expression wary and a bit skeptical. "I'm grateful that you're so eager to help me with my English assignment. But somehow, I doubt that even half of what you've suggested is appropriate to use in my essay."
Jin tries to look as innocent and earnest as he can while he explains to Maru the literary value of his favorite English phrases.
-
One of the assistants is tracing a fake tattoo on Kame's shoulder, black swirls and elegant loops flowing on a patch of skin and burning onto Jin's retina the longer he stares.
The first few scenes are solely Kame's and Jin is not even required to be here, but Reika-san was deaf to any objections from his part and made him come anyway.
Kame is a bundle of twitching nerves, shoulders tense and his whole stance rigid, and Jin gets agitated just by looking at him. So he doesn't. But somehow Kame ends up sitting next to him on the couch, gaze fixed on his script and he's chewing on his lower lip so enthusiastically like it's something sweet and tasty.
"Kamenashi," Jin says when he can't take it anymore, and Kame almost flinches from hearing his name - but at least he's stopped with the biting. "Stop worrying. You've been married to the script for days, you're as prepared you can be. It's going to be fine."
To tell who's more surprised by his reassuring would be difficult. It's something that was a mantra during their Gokusen days, only with less words and more shoulder bumping. It comes to him almost as a Pavlovian reflex at seeing Kame's distress on set, but Kame's immediate reaction - fingers no longer clutching the papers like a drowning man, and his back no longer appearing to bend in two and snap at any minute - to his words is satisfying on a level he's not ready to think about at the moment.
Still, those few sentences do what they're supposed to, and Kame aces all his scenes on the first try.
During their impromptu breaks, Kame always ends up somehow next to him, and before Jin's brain can catch up with him they're four years back in time, with Jin teasing rather than sulking and Kame reacting other than turning his head away.
It's the easiest and most natural thing in the world.
It scares Jin to his bones.
-
"Not that I'm complaining that you're here, but don't you have other places to grace with your presence?" Shirota asks while Rina is dangling from Jin's arms, all laughter and loud shrieks as Jin tosses her up in the air.
"Yes, but your sister is the most adorable little lady in the whole wide world and deserves all of my attention."
"Well, that's certainly true." Shirota seems mollified by his reasoning, and soon he's talking about the new club they should check out while Jin eats and plays hide and seek with Rina who's zigzagging under the tables like a professional ninja.
"Your family's tapas is still the best in Japan," Jin hums with pleasure as he picks up the last from his plate.
"I'm glad Akanishi Jin approves," Shirota snorts. "By the way, I've caught one of your interviews. You know, you were actually looking at the camera and participating in the discussion, and were awfully tight with Kamenashi. And you almost looked like you were enjoying yourself - so much so that I had to switch the channel before I had a heart attack."
"Oh shut it," Jin snaps at him good naturedly, no longer hungry and with Rina's small form leaning into his side, trying to crawl onto his lap to get his attention. "Kame's been pretty tolerable lately, and it certainly helps with this whole make believe campaign."
Shirota's eyebrows climb up high on his forehead. "Since when are you calling him Kame?"
Jin doesn't want to tell him that he's never stopped calling him Kame in his head, so he just gives a little half-shrug and tickles Rina instead. When her laughter ebbs, her little arms wound around his neck and she plants a sloppy kiss onto his cheek.
"Jin, when I get older I want to be your bride," she says, still a little short of breath.
"When you get older I'll ask you to marry me," Jin promises.
"That's it. You're not allowed to come within two feet of my precious little sister anymore."
-
One of their important escape scenes takes place in a swimming pool, and Jin, wearing layers over layers in the stifling, humid air is not so sure about Yamapi's future plan of permanently moving to Hawaii anymore. It's hot, it's wet and his make-up needs to be reapplied before every retake. Kame's wearing less than him but looks more like a horror show survivor, his once white shirt hanging off his shoulders in tattered stripes with fake blood running down his arm and scattering around his feet, blooming crimson water lilies in tiny puddles with his every step.
Jin takes down three guys coming at him at lightening speed, drops the now empty gun and starts running, everything going according to script until he takes a turn and slips on the wet tiles. He falls into the pool in a whirlwind of erratic arm movements, and swallows a mouthful of chlorine tasting water when he lets out a surprised shout. He comes up coughing and sputtering, legs kicking fast and hard, fingers reaching for a steady surface and ends up grabbing the offered hand of one of his currently-dead costars.
When he gets his breathing under control and his ears are not muffled by excess water, he hears quiet snickering in front of him. When he pushes his wet hair out of his face to take a look at who's trying so hard to hold back his laughter, he finds Kame kneeling on the ground near the brink of the pool.
Jin gives him an annoyed frown and Kame tries to school his expression, but his voice is still trembling a bit when he asks, "All right?"
Jin's answer catches in his throat and he sneezes instead twice. Kame's laughter finally breaks free, clear and full of mirth, bouncing off the water surface to echo inside the pool. The sound reminds Jin of his trainee days, lazy afternoons spent in a boneless heap on the practice room floor, feeling sweaty and tired, but happy and satisfied. The lingering memory leaves his whole body pleasantly warm, makes him smile.
His smile quickly turns into a grin, though, when he reaches up with both hands and grabs at Kame's shirt, fingers tangling in the material; and uses every pound and wet layer on himself as leverage to pull Kame into the pool. The shell-shocked and utterly outraged expression on Kame's face before he meets the surface is totally worth the few kicks Jin gets underwater for his feat.
-
During their Okyakusama wa Kamisama tour, Jin almost always roomed with Kame. After the night in which Kame got his first plush turtle from one of their fans and was quick enough to hide it from management to keep it, Jin declared the event worthy of celebration.
They nicked some pudding from the kitchen and stayed up well into the night, smothering laughter into their pillows. Jin's fingers were sticky-sweet and his belly felt pleasantly full while he was sitting on Kame's bed, listening to him rave about the recent Yomiuri Giants versus Hanshin Tigers match. He neither really understood nor liked baseball, but talking about it made Kame grin with that special grin of his, crooked teeth and all, so Jin didn't tell him to shut up.
"Hey, Kame." Jin poked him with his spoon to get his attention when Kame run out of steam about the most epic home-run in the history of baseball. "Dou you think we will be in the same group after we debut?"
Kame blinked and turned his head to look at Jin. "How do you know they will even let us debut?"
Jin rolled his eyes. "Are you stupid? Of course they will. We're awesome and will be even more famous than SMAP."
Kame turned onto his stomach and rested his chin on top of his folded hands. "I don't know. Maybe," he said, a little reluctantly. "Do you think they will put us in the same group?"
"I don't want to share the room with anyone else, so they better," Jin said with a frown. It always boggled him why he was the only one to see how talented Kame actually was. Yamapi always made a face when Jin talked about how Kame made this awesome stunt and how he remembered the choreography the best during their practice, while Ryo just laughed and called Kame the ugly one.
"If I do, you do too. I'm not doing this without you." The words were final and Jin meant them with every fiber of his being.
"Idiot, you shouldn't say that," Kame said, pressing his forehead against his hands to hide his face, but his voice sounded embarrassed and pleased.
Jin yawned and pushed Kame over so he could lie down next to him - crawling to his own bed would be more of a hassle than staying in Kame's. He just found a comfortable position wedged between the pillows when Kame broke the silence.
"Jin, what do you want to do in ten years?"
"Hm? Oh. I want to sing. And I want to be even more famous than Kimura Takuya, and-"
"That's impossible," Kame interrupted him almost instantly, and Jin kicked him under the blankets.
"Hey, you asked. I also want to be a father. But only if it's a girl," Jin mused. "You?"
He couldn't hear Kame's plans, though, because Kame took so long with his answer that Jin had already fallen asleep by the time he whispered it.
-
Everything goes well for a few weeks, but soon in the crossfire of watchful eyes and crushing expectations, things slowly start to fall apart.
Kame's constructive criticism regarding whatever Jin does or says morphs and twists into biting snaps often enough to make Jin clam up again and get his slumbering defense shot sky high to dismiss Kame's presence altogether - which makes Kame's jaws clench in frustration and he tries double hard to make up for Jin's lack of cooperation.
They're not sleeping or eating much, and they both know this can't go on for much longer without anyone noticing. Soon enough, Nakamaru asks Jin for some tutoring before a test while Ueda takes Kame to his boxing coach to work out a new exercise regime. Jin plays dumb under Maru's gentle probing, and from the helpless little shrug Ueda gives Maru the next day, he hasn't been that successful with Kame either.
When Management gives them three warnings within the span of five days after a few disastrous interviews, some complaints from the choreographer and a friendly call from The Director, Jin's decided that he's had enough.
When Kame asks him to stay for a few minutes after practice, he drops back onto the couch without complaints.
"Jin," Kame starts, and instead of being frustrated, angry or hurt, he just sounds exhausted and defeated. "That's enough. I get it. We all get it. But I… I can't do this much longer."
"Good. Because I'm almost beyond my limits, too," Jin says, his voice clipped but steady.
The air around them smells of static, standing still and simmering like a hot summer afternoon before a thunderstorm.
"No, Jin. You don't get it. We," Kame says, but stops suddenly, looking for the appropriate words and Jin's heart starts beating widely in his chest, irregular and loud thud-thud drums marching to the rhythm flowing in his veins. The last time he saw Kame like this, Jin ended up with the sharp little jagged shards of his broken childhood dreams and heart between his fingers, bleeding and aching, while Kame walked away to record a single, never turning and his back straight. "We talked. I mean, the group. And we decided that if you want out, you can have it."
Jin swallows. "What do you mean?"
Kame takes a deep breath before he continues. "Look, it's pretty obvious to anyone who's watching that you don't like what you're doing now. You've always been bad about hiding how you feel, and you haven't been happy with your situation for a long time. A few ups here and there, sure, but after that it's back to doing what you'd rather not, and it shows. I'm not saying that's wrong, but it's not so fortunate in this industry. It's dragging you down. It's dragging us down."
Kame lifts his gaze from Jin's shoulder and finally looks him in the eyes. "Frankly, we feel that you'd be a lot happier without KAT-TUN. And if you don't believe in what we can all do together anymore, it's better to put an end to it before things can escalate further."
Jin only stares at Kame for a few, eternal seconds before he starts laughing. It's an ugly laugh, years of hurt and betrayal festering under his skin breaking free, and Kame actually flinches from hearing it.
"And whose," Jin murmurs, his voice syrup-thick and heat dark, "fault do you think it is, Kazuya?"
"I don't-"
"Who was the one who, after we all made a promise to do all or nothing together, decided to sign a contract on the side anyway?"
"They promised to let us debut in spring if I accepted," Kame says after the words sink and curl under his skin.
"People lie."
"Yes, they do," Kame agrees, and there's no shame hiding behind his words. It makes Jin completely and utterly furious.
"Then what do you all want from me? What do you want from me?!"
"I want you to decide whether KAT-TUN means anything more to you other than an irritating obligation."
They're not yet shouting, but they're close enough.
"I asked nicely. I threw a tantrum. I begged you not to do it," Jin presses out between clenched teeth. "If the group means so much to you, why didn't you do the same for me?!"
"After everything, everything Jin, do you think I had the right?!" Kame snaps, finally losing what little self-control he had, breaking and dissolving faster than sugar cane. "It wasn't my place to say anything, not after what I did."
"And in Los Angeles? When you were the only one saying even after Koki run out of steam that it'd be better not to have me back? What about the group, then?" Jin asks bitterly, doesn't add Did you think about the band as a five person group, then?
Kame sighs. "Was it really your decision? Coming back? I know the hiatus was. And I respected that. We all did. But the coming back? Jin, did you really want to come back for good?"
Jin opens his mouth to say yes, but the words get stuck in his throat. A while? Sure. For good? He doesn't know about that.
"Jin, what do you want to do?" Kame asks, and the simple question pins Jin to his seat as a fluttering moth to a board.
"I don't know," he says, looking helpless and conflicted, feeling vulnerable in a way he hasn't in a long while. "I really don't know."
"Think about it. I just… We just wanted you to know that you do have options. We all want KAT-TUN in its original line-up, but it can't stay the way as it is now if this continues. Whatever you decide, just know we'll accept it and support you."
The smile Kame flashes him is bittersweet. "We're in this together until the end, after all. As promised."
Jin swallows, nods, and feels more lost and alone than ever.
-
He's standing in front of a small house, a bag of cherries in one hand and his old keys in another. Everything is the same as he remembers: white picket fence surrounding the garden, green and vibrant with the buzzing of summer. There are hydrangea petals scattered on the ground, a pale cream blanket rolled out almost as an invitation leading to the front door. Wisteria branches hide the entrance in a soft purple waterfall and the sweet smell tickling his nose gets stronger and more alluring as he walks to the door. The scent triggers many of his memories, faded and chipped through time, matching the pealing paint on one corner of the house. He can hear carefree laughter in the back of his mind, Reio shrieking on a swing while Jin pushes him higher and higher, the dry and sturdy bark of his favorite tree under his fingertips as he pulls himself up from the ground and starts climbing.
Everything is familiar and safe, and Jin feels his tension ebb from his back, anger and hurt bleeding out from him step by step, beat by beat.
The house is quiet save for the gentle humming coming somewhere from the back, and Jin smiles as he takes off his shoes, follows the soft melody through the hall and ends up in the kitchen.
"I'm home."
The humming stops and his mother turns around, fingers still deep in strawberry leaves. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, the light coming from the open windows playing with a few, unruly strands around her neck. When she looks at Jin her expression brightens and her eyes shine with faint hues of golden brown. She straightens and wipes her hands on her jeans, and before Jin can blink he's enveloped in a tight embrace.
"Jin, welcome back. I've missed you," she says, her voice lilting and woven with joy from just seeing him. Jin exhales shakily, throat suddenly clogged and tongue heavy between his teeth. He hugs her back, rests his cheek against her hair and takes a deep breath, inhales the faint scent of honey and apples, warmth and love all rolled into a small bundle of happiness.
Her lips feel soft and gentle on his cheeks, and he can't help the answering smile tugging at him as he looks at her.
"I'm sorry for barging in so suddenly. Here, cherries," he starts, and if his voice sounds a bit shaky her mother doesn't comment on it.
"I've said numerous times that feel free to drop by whenever you like, just give us a call before you do. This is your home too, you know, silly boy," she chastises. "But thanks for the cherries. I'll wash them with the berries I've picked. Just sit down somewhere but please be careful of the tools on the chairs and table, I was about to put them away. Do you want to drink anything? Water, juice, beer? Are you hungry? I haven't started on lunch yet, but I can make something quick if you're in a hurry."
Jin takes a seat at the table, amused and content to just watch his mother whirl around the kitchen, answering her thousand questions one at a time. She puts the fruits on the table, a red and vivid mix on white porcelain as she slides onto the chair next to him.
"You look exhausted. Everything all right?" she asks wasting little time, blunt and going for the jugular but softening the blow with the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes. Jin doesn't even consider lying to her, he knows she can tell with her eyes closed and ears shut, doesn't want to hurt her when the answer is obvious anyway.
"Things have been a lot busy and a bit rough. I'll live." He takes a strawberry from the plate, ripe and wet, sweetness flooding his mouth as the soft flesh tears between his teeth. "Delicious. I hope you don't expect me to leave any for Reio and Dad," he hums between bites, and her mother laughs, starts talking about her potted plants and precious garden, and in the thick cocoon of his mother's kitchen, feeling protected and welcomed and loved, Jin loses track of the time.
When he was younger, he always wanted to show off his Mom because she's the most amazing Mom on the planet who ate ice-cream with him before dinner in secret and allowed him to climb the highest branch of the tree as long as she could go after him, with a warm hand resting on his back. When he was older and realized how young she'd truly been when she had him, he was frightened and awed at the same time. Had he been in her place at that age, he's not sure he would've had her courage and confidence to take on so much responsibility, to make a decision so final and irreversible.
He admires her for her determination and faith, loves her for loving him and life enough to give him a chance, even before he was born; that his parents didn't consider him a mistake not worth repeating because Reio was born four years later, his mother still young by society's standards to be a respectable mother. That no matter what he does, she'll welcome him with open arms, without judgment and expectations everyone else pushes onto Jin whether he can take it or not.
The realization that she cares for him like no other always makes Jin's heart ache with love, makes him want to curl up near her outstretched leg on the floor, let her long and slender fingers comb through his hair while he dozes on the porch, sunlight warm on his belly and his limbs feeling heavy like stones.
He hopes he can give back even tenth of what she's given him, never wants to see the shadows of disappointment clouding her eyes.
When their conversation dwindles to comfortable silence Jin licks his lips, nervous and afraid, heart beating staccato against his ribs, a tiny little hummingbird fluttering madly in its cage.
"Mom," he starts, gathering his courage around his feet. "Do you think it's okay to start over?"
Her mother looks at him and doesn't ask him to elaborate or explain. She takes the last cherry from the plate and rolls it between her fingers. "You know, there are things I wish I could have done a little bit differently. Many things, in fact - small and large, and even life-altering. But there is nothing I feel I wouldn't have done or regret after I've done it."
She sighs and her lips stretch to a fleeting smile, nostalgic and sweet with a wistful edge.
"Your grandmother was a strange woman. Odd and eccentric, and knew more Italian than Japanese, but very wise. She always said that life is a maze of choices, and as long as you pick the path that makes you the happiest, the road leading to the exit will be obvious and clear."
Jin remembers Grandma only hazily. She died two years after Reio was born, but his mother always talked about her with fond exasperation.
"Jin, there's always a choice," she continues, sure and calm, still playing with the cherry. "It's yours to make. Your life, your future, your decision and your responsibility - yours alone. The happiest path in the long run is not always the easiest and most obvious, but the choice is always yours to make."
"As your mother, I want what's best for you," she says with an easy smile, acceptance dancing on her lips. "And I believe what's best for you should make you happy. Whether I agree with your choice or not, it doesn't matter because it's not mine to make. Maybe I won't like it, maybe I'll tell you that I believe you're making a mistake, maybe I won't even understand it. But I'll accept whatever your decision might be."
"Jin, I love you, and nothing will change that," she sighs, with a conviction so strong Jin feels almost crushed under its weight. "I only want you to be happy."
Jin feels warm sand beneath his fingertips and hears carefree laughter carried away by the wind, a gentle press on his arm and a familiar presence near his side, years and years of history behind him, a crooked smile and warm eyes, and a devotion clear and bright like the sun.
I don't know. But I want to be happy and have fun. I want you to be happy, too.
"Of course," he whispers, chokes while his past, present and future all come crashing down around him in slow motion, leaving broken pillars and cracked marble in the aftermath.
I want to stay like this for years and years and more.
-
A few times in his life Jin's experienced something like divine guidance. It comes during his special dreams - the ones he can't remember after waking up but leave him feeling peaceful and grounded in a certain way, give him simmering strength and a diamond strong determination to lean on.
The first time he felt it was the day after he'd fallen from the ship and sunk under waves of sea blue that tasted salty like his mother's tears. Another time came after his first ever serious row with Yamapi when they weren't speaking to each other for nine days. He can also remember taking a nap in the beginning of April on a hard bench of the park near his language school in Los Angeles, and waking to the flavor his mother's special Wakatakeni still strong on his tongue.
When Jin walks down the abandoned beach, his bare feet sinking in the sand with his every step and sees Kame waiting for him by the shore, he knows it's one of those dreams.
He comes to a halt next to Kame, close enough to feel the wetness under his heel but far enough that the waves can't reach him. The sky is a fair shade of blue without any whiteness in sight, and the sea is endless and calm before him. The only sound around them is the ripple of waves as they catch on the coast, a gentle lull of rhythmic friction to Jin's ears.
"Been a while," Kame says, breaking the silence but still not looking at Jin, gaze fixed on the scenery. His stance is relaxed, hands hidden deep within the pockets of his jeans, and a faint breeze tugs on the collar of his shirt. He looks older and feels different than the Kame Jin's used to.
Jin hums in agreement. "Sorry I'm late. My schedule was insane."
He takes a deep breath and holds it, the taste of salt and crispy clean air filling his lungs to the brim.
When Kame finally looks at him, eyes wide and open, warm and trusting, Jin chokes and starts coughing.
Kame's laughter, deep and honest, sounds like a promise washing over him. "Ready?" he asks, head tilted to the side, and before Jin can decide he's already stepping forward.
-
He wakes slowly, floating between the peculiar edge of soft dreams and vivid reality before opening his eyes. He sees the ceiling of their designated dressing room, turns his head slightly but doesn't move otherwise and notices Kame sitting on the other couch. His head is bent over a magazine and a tiny frown mars the middle of his forehead.
He should be wearing his glasses, Jin thinks over a yawn and stretches lazily on the lumpy couch. At the movement Kame looks up and Jin's gaze locks with his.
"I'm awake," Jin murmurs after a beat of silence, his mind foggy and voice scratchy from sleep.
Kame looks a touch confused about Jin's declaration, but there's amusement lurking in the depths. "I've noticed. Welcome back."
And in the end, it's really simple to smile. A gentle tilt of the corners of his mouth, still dreamy with the shadows of sleep. It's a close resemblance to one of his long forgotten ones and Jin's almost embarrassed at letting his guard down enough to show it, but Kame's startled expression and widening eyes make it worth his try.
It's a start.
By: spiritdream
Pairing: Akanishi Jin/Kamenashi Kazuya
Rating: PG-13
Genre/Warnings: pre-slash / nothing I can think of
Prompt (if used): May one be pardoned and retain the offence?
Notes: for crystallekil. ♥ I tried to stick to your preferences, hope the fic won't be a huge disappointment with the absence of actual boy-on-boy action. >_>; Title is taken from a Broken Social Scene track, the movie premise was inspired by the Taiwanese drama series Black & White. Wakatakeni is a popular Japanese spring dish made from simmered bamboo shoots and wakame. I'm not sure about the name of Shirota Yuu's younger sister as I only relied on one source. As the story was written before Jin's solo concert announcement, every parallel between fiction and real life is purely coincidental. :)
Summary: We're in this together until the end, after all. As promised.
Jin wakes to his phone ringing somewhere on his right, and burrows deeper under the covers to block out the sound. Whoever is calling seems persistent enough, because within a few seconds of blissful silence after the voicemail kicks in boom boom boom echoes in his empty apartment, louder and louder until Fergie starts singing and the voicemail cuts her off again. Jin is on that hazy edge of drowsiness where noise and thought melt together, where everything is warm and sluggish through the milky surface of glass panels, and he easily slips back to sleep.
When he comes around again, the sun is peaking through the curtains, almost blinding him. His shirt sticks to his back like second skin and his phone is eerily silent, the little red light flashing almost continuously to get someone's attention. Jin rolls to the other side of the bed, successfully untangles his right hand from the snug cocoon of blankets and sheet, and grabs for his phone. There's a text message from his manager from eleven minutes ago with a curt Please, call. Now., then another and another and thirteen more with a few missed calls - approximately twenty and counting, Jin notes sleepily - mixed in between.
When Jin came back from his sabbatical from Los Angeles, the Agency thought it was high time to assign him his very own personal manager as all the other members had theirs for a while. Jin was so overwhelmed with being the wayward son of the entertainment industry and keeping up with KAT-TUN activities that he thought to protest only three months later, when Reika-san handed him the script to Yukan Club, along with a contract to sign. He did so with minimal fuss, because Reika-san may look like a fragile woman of pint-sized proportions a good head shorter than him, all soft smiles and gentle disposition, but she's the sort of woman who doesn't bend to anyone - even to the top branches of the Agency, let alone to Jin. In many aspects she reminds Jin a lot of his mother; and he's kind of glad but also a little bit horrified with discovering the similarities.
So Jin does as he's instructed, and Reika-san picks her phone up after the second ring.
"Good morning," she greets him politely; her voice melodious and soothing like a slow-flowing river even through the static, and Jin murmurs something likewise.
"Come into the office, please."
"It's my day off," he starts to say after a few beats of confused silence, but Reika-san has already hung up on him with a quiet See you, and Jin's starting to have a bad feeling about this day.
He can still feel his right arm ache a bit from when he banged his elbow into the shower stall while he makes a quick stop at Starbucks on the way. He pulls the baseball cap lower, his jacket collar a little higher while he makes sure that the sunglasses cover the rest of his face. He still has to repeat his order once because the girl behind the counter just keeps staring and blinking at him, her lips forming a shapely O in a perfect imitation of a fish. Jin resists the urge to tap his feet and concentrates hard on not to turn to the woman standing next to him in line instead. She has a little girl on her arm and she fumbles with her phone to very subtly take several dozen pictures of Jin.
He takes the coffee with a slight nod and thanks from the now blushing barista, pays, then quickly ducks out onto the street and slides into his car, relieved.
The Agency is busy even on a Saturday morning, a constant buzz of nervous energy with people running left and right who only spar Jin a tight nod at most when they see him in the hall. The urgency seeps through his skin and nestles into his cells, flows with his blood from head to toe. He can still feel it humming in his veins after the elevator door shuts the rest of the world out, leaving him alone in blissful silence. He ignores his reflection in the gleaming surface of the mirror walls and keeps track of the passing levels instead, numbers and contours melting to a yellow smear the longer he stares.
-
He finds Reika-san sitting behind her desk. The surface is spotless and shining black, and everything has its exact place from the tiny paper clippings through the sleeping computer, down to the white little coffee mug next to her left elbow. Her eyes are glued to a stack of papers lying in front of her, gaze drinking in the printed, ant-sized letters row by row.
"Morning," Jin says, his voice scratcing the silence while he makes his way to the leather couch. It's big, comfortable, and it takes little time for Jin to find his favorite spot and nestle into the corner, back resting against the soft cushions. She glances at him and sets the papers aside, the tiny crease between her brows dissolving so fast that Jin almost believes he's only imagined it.
"Thank you for coming," she greets Jin with a breeze of a smile. Sunlight streams through the drapes and glides down her dark locks, tumbles in the folds of her shirt, crisp and fresh as the first snow of winter. She looks him over quickly, taking note of his unshaven face and the bruised circles under his eyes, and Jin knows it's not only his physical appearance she's cataloging. For a second, her gaze is piercing and hard like a hawk's, but before Jin could register the danger and snap out of his lazy slouch, her eyes quickly melt to her usual, mellow cinder-brown.
"I'm sorry for the sudden call, but we have a situation."
Jin's stomach jumps and his heart skips a beat. "Situation?" he asks, and he's surprised that his voice doesn't sound as breathless as he currently feels.
"It's nothing serious," Reika-san adds soothingly, and Jin would even believe her if her fingertips weren't turning white from the pressure she's clasping her hands together on top of the desk. "Mostly concerns your private life."
Jin is feeling even less reassured now, and thinks back on what might be so scandalous about his affairs to warrant a meeting with his manager on a Saturday morning. When he comes up with a dozen and more reasons in the nick of a few seconds, he decides to save what he can.
"I'm sorry," he breathes, and mentally curses himself when it doesn't come off as remorseful as he's intended it to be.
Reika-san looks a little bit startled. "Are you?"
"I'm truly sorry. I didn't know the pictures would be that much of a problem. I'll be more careful next time." Jin feels like a broken record player repeating the same verse over and over again. He's said these sentences countless times in the past few years, though after the Agency assigned him Reika-san, the apologies became few and far between.
When Reika-san still looks somewhat confused even after his explanation, Jin starts babbling about that they were all of legal age, or at least he thinks so, and none of them celebrities except a Horipro trainee with a few, minor commercial deals. His palm is warm and sweaty, but his fingers feel numb as they're clinging to the armrest. When Reika-san lifts her hand, he bites his tongue and falls silent.
"Have you done something I should be aware of?" she asks, her face smooth like porcelain and her voice as calm as ever. Jin doesn't know what she's thinking, can't read her at all.
"I don't think so." When she questioningly lifts an eyebrow, he tries again. "Maybe?"
"What do you think I've called you in for?"
"The pictures from the party last week. And the articles." Not that he keeps track of those, but the problem lies with one - if not all - of them, he's sure. It always does.
"Jin," she sighs, a touch of exasperation and amusement lingering behind his name. "I don't care about rumors or party pictures, or about any of your private affairs that become public. As long as you keep whatever you do within legal restrictions, or don't find yourself suddenly with parental responsibilities, I doubt the Agency will be more interested other than issuing a statement, if even that. I believe I've succeeded in convincing the top branch that their scolding would fall on flat ears."
Jin doesn't know whether to be relieved that the Agency doesn't care about his weekly scandals as long as he doesn't do anything outrageous, or be offended that they've already written him off as a lost cause.
"Then why am I here?" he asks, feeling a bit confused and lost. Annoyance flares behind his eyes, fleeting but still noticeable - it's a Saturday morning, after all, and he could be sleeping in like every other normal person he knows.
Reika-san doesn't say anything for a few seconds, just looks at him, her eyes warm and expression serene, her whole posture straight. Jin knows that showing his displeasure won't get him anywhere - it's never worked with her before, and he doubts it's going to start now - so he reins his temper in and wills himself to at least look attentive.
"You have a new project. It's a movie role," she starts, reaching for the papers she'd been looking at when Jin came in. "It's a crime movie, and you have one of the lead roles. Shooting starts in a week if you pass the reading."
Jin just stares at her, his shoulders rigid and heart beating madly within his chest. He's still asleep. He must be dreaming. It's a Saturday morning, after all.
"I know the group has the upcoming tour and you have to attend rehearsals. We'll work around the schedule. Jin, you," she stops, eyes flickering between Jin and the stack of papers she's holding before she continues, "you can't refuse. I know it's not the best time to do this, and I know it's sudden, but the director is Kawamoto Hiroshi, and he personally called Kitagawa-san to ask for you."
Jin takes the papers in a daze. He notes the slight trembling of his fingers, but can't feel anything other than a dull prickling under his fingernails. Kawamoto Hiroshi, many times- winner of Best Director of the Japanese Academy Awards, Berlin International Film Festival, Montreal Film Festival, and probably other prestigious film festivals Jin can't remember the name of wants him to participate in one of his projects.
Now he knows he's dreaming.
"How… I mean, why… I mean-" he tries to speak after a few tries, his throat parched as the desert sand.
Reika-san shakes her head. "I don't know, I haven't been told. It's not important. You have the script, try to get familiar with it. The scene you should prepare for is marked, the reading will take place in," she quickly glances at the clock hanging above Jin's head, "six hours."
Jin tries to swallow the sudden lump pressing against the back of his throat but ends up coughing. He feels light-headed when he gets his breathing back to normal, the whole world spinning around him in lazy circles.
Why anyone thought he would refuse is a mystery Jin can't be bothered to solve now. He takes a deep, calming breath and starts to go through pages of a world built in a man's mind, his vision blurred at the edges and mind still dizzy from shock.
-
He's walking down the corridor, led by a girl whose long ponytail sways with her every step. She's a pretty thing, miles of legs and tiny waist, and Jin would talk to her and maybe get her number if he wasn't so nervous.
The character he's playing is probably the most interesting and challenging he's had up to date. According to the script, he's a young cop devoted to beautiful women and fast cars, has an inexplicable fear of death considering his profession, and tends to avoid strenuous activities like actual work with an almost burning passion. With his usual luck he stumbles upon a raid and lets the target get away, which in the end causes him to transfer to another department and work as a team with his total opposite - someone workaholic and driven to the brink of obsessive justice. The two of them start working together on a case but end up with more than they can chew, soon running from both sides of the law and trying to stay alive at least until they find the true head of the ultimate evil organization.
He has every intention of securing his role because the script is amazing and his character is awesome, and the Agency will probably have his head if he lets this chance slip away. But he's most excited about starring in a honest to god action movie, with raids and shooting, car races and spectacular explosions.
He can't wait to brag about this to Yamapi, let alone to Ryo. Emotionally conflicted cops turned criminals are way cooler than noble samurai turned pastry chefs, after all.
The girl stops in front of a door, and with a charming smile on her face she tells him to go in and promptly takes her leave.
When Jin steps inside with a polite greeting ready on his lips, he comes face to face with Kawamoto Hiroshi and Kamenashi Kazuya.
Jin solves the mystery five and a half hours after he's started reading the script.
-
Reika-san is waiting for him in the lobby and Jin says goodbye to Kame with a slight nod. The tension is thick and oppressive between Reika-san and him in the car, can be cut with a knife as quickly and easily as butter.
"Congratulation on officially getting the role," she breaks the silence, and Jin bites the inside of his mouth to stop a scream from breaking free.
"Thanks," he snaps instead, the word hard and stinging from suppressed anger, tearing into the plush surface of the seats.
"You knew," Jin starts after he takes a deep, calming breath. "You knew from the beginning that Kamenashi had the role of the other cop."
"Yes, I did," she agrees.
"And," Jin continues, his jaw clenching and eyes flashing thunderstorms while he looks out the window, "this little bit of information wasn't important enough to tell me."
They stop at a red lamp and Reika-san lets out a tiny sigh.
"No. Because no matter how much you would have raged against it, it couldn't be changed. I needed you to concentrate fully on the script."
Jin swallows and thumps the back of his head against the headrest.
"I'm not angry about starring in a movie with Kamenashi," Jin says tiredly, like his whole energy is torn from him with a snap of someone's fingers. "I'm angry because it came as a surprise out of nowhere."
"But it helped with acting all surprised and confused for the reading, I hope."
And he grudgingly admits that yes, it did. This doesn't make him feel any less indignant, though.
"So you're not angry that you and Kamenashi-san have to participate in the same project, together?"
Jin bites into his lower lip before he answers. "I'm sure that we can be civil to each other. We're both adults, after all."
And he's pretty sure he can do it. If he thinks of the movie like any other KAT-TUN project, remaining polite and treating Kame like he would any other colleague on set shouldn't be a problem. They've been doing that for years now. He just has to block and forget what happened the last time he and Kame acted in something together, and everything should be fine.
They should be fine.
"Good. Because the Agency thought it best to bring the group's famous AkaKame pair back to the market. It would give publicity to the upcoming concert tour, and it would also increase interest in the movie."
Jin's ears are ringing faintly and it feels like he's free-falling and can see the ground coming towards him at neck-breaking speed.
"It won't work. It's too sudden, after the way we've acted around each other on camera. No one will believe it," he says. His voice is calm and what he says sounds reasonable, even though Jin can't feel his lips forming the words and his throat producing the sounds.
"Jin," Reika-san starts, and there's a certain sadness hiding behind the syllable. "You're an idol. It's your job to make them believe."
-
"I hate my job," Jin exclaims, his words slurring to almost unintelligible after his sixth vodka shot.
"A great many people would sell their souls in a heartbeat to have your job," Ryo reminds him while he takes a bite from his dinner, and Yamapi only hums in agreement as he steals some grilled meat from Jin's plate.
"I hate you too."
"No, you don't. It's your job you hate."
"I wish I could have a normal job," Jin sighs wistfully, and Ryo shoots him a look that speaks volumes.
"I don't think you're missing much, actually," Yamapi muses, his fingers holding his chopsticks loosely while he gestures with his free hand. "You do your job, whore yourself to your customers and look hard-working to the management, bitch at some of your co-workers and at the end of the day you get drunk with a few of your colleagues. Repeat. No big difference."
"That actually makes sense," Ryo agrees, taking a sip from his beer.
"See? I told you. Jin, you're nothing special. No hating on your normal job."
"Hating my job is normal."
"Maybe. But not doing your job properly will get you sacked sooner rather than later."
Jin frowns, and his mouth thins to a white line, his whole posture radiating displeasure and annoyance.
"So what. Should I just smile and pretend to be all best friends forever with Kamenashi again?"
Yamapi nods a few times empathically while Ryo just shrugs. "It's your neck on the line."
"I don't like this. Any of this. At all," he emphasizes as the lamp on their table decides to sway to the song coming from the radio.
"Then do something about it, for fuck's sake. Or roll with it, whatever. I don't care anymore. Just stop whining," Ryo snaps, and his annoyance is only half-fake. Jin's too far gone to pick on it, but Yamapi shoots Ryo a warning glance across the table to which Ryo just rolls his eyes.
"You say I'm not even allowed to whine. Show displeasure? Unprofessional. Be anything less than perfect? Heresy." He lifts his glass and it's halfway to his mouth when he realizes it's empty. "And now I'm not even allowed to drink," he sighs as Yamapi shouts for another round.
"You know, I hate my life," Jin proclaims with drunken conviction. Yamapi pats his back and the comforting gesture almost sends Jin face-first into his plate.
"That's the spirit," Ryo deadpans before taking another bite of his dinner.
-
The next day Jin wakes to a rollercoaster spinning in his stomach, and he barely makes it to the toilet in time. He drinks a whole bottle of water, the liquid cold and fresh as ice, and takes two painkillers while he's in the kitchen. His head is pounding so hard his vision starts to dim, so he staggers back to the bed and falls asleep within beats.
-
On Monday, everybody offers their congratulations and the rehearsal goes off without a hitch. It's lunch break and the juniors are busy stuffing their faces or rolling on the floor of their practice room. Junno's off to somewhere and Ueda's been on his phone since the beginning of their break, currently neck-deep in some furniture buying crisis with his girlfriend. Jin just came back from outside, the bitter tint of smoke still clinging to his hair and shirt, only to catch Koki glance subtly in Kame's direction the seventh time since morning. Neither their tour, nor the shooting for the movie have started, but Kame already looks a little worn around the edges. Jin wonders what he's worrying about, but knowing Kame it can be anything from not making the curry spicy enough last night to visiting a terminally ill family member in the hospital.
Kame will tell Jin what's bothering him when he wants to, but it's been literally ages since Kame's confided in him about anything. To tell the truth, Jin doesn't even want to know much. Keeping their distance is probably the smartest thing they can do. He doesn't even want to entertain the possibility of getting close to Kame again, the first fall-out was catastrophic enough to make them never ever allow for another opportunity. Jin thinks their detachedness actually helped with the whole Los Angeles thing, but deep down in the hidden part of his soul where he's forever eighteen and the world is still interesting and fun, it came as a shock and hurt like a train-wreck when Kame calmly told them in that little, secluded room that he didn't want Jin to rejoin the group for the tour.
Not as tearing and bleeding as the first time when Jin practically begged him to refuse the collaboration for the special unit and be patient, to wait for them a bit more because they were almost there - but Kame just looked at him with unreadable eyes, and Jin had known his answer even before Kame shook his head and simply said no.
His second refusal came just as unexpectedly, though the hurt Jin felt resembled more to a dull, persistent ache in his chest that was more annoying than painful.
Jin's not interested in Kame and Kame's life any more than Kame is interested in him or his, he's sure. This movie thing shouldn't change the carefully built balance between them, not even with all their public declarations of reconciled friendship. It'll be all for show anyway.
"Akanishi," someone calls from the side. Jin turns towards the sound and sees Nakamaru hunched over some papers.
"Hm?"
Maru looks up with a slight frown, his expression wary and a bit skeptical. "I'm grateful that you're so eager to help me with my English assignment. But somehow, I doubt that even half of what you've suggested is appropriate to use in my essay."
Jin tries to look as innocent and earnest as he can while he explains to Maru the literary value of his favorite English phrases.
-
One of the assistants is tracing a fake tattoo on Kame's shoulder, black swirls and elegant loops flowing on a patch of skin and burning onto Jin's retina the longer he stares.
The first few scenes are solely Kame's and Jin is not even required to be here, but Reika-san was deaf to any objections from his part and made him come anyway.
Kame is a bundle of twitching nerves, shoulders tense and his whole stance rigid, and Jin gets agitated just by looking at him. So he doesn't. But somehow Kame ends up sitting next to him on the couch, gaze fixed on his script and he's chewing on his lower lip so enthusiastically like it's something sweet and tasty.
"Kamenashi," Jin says when he can't take it anymore, and Kame almost flinches from hearing his name - but at least he's stopped with the biting. "Stop worrying. You've been married to the script for days, you're as prepared you can be. It's going to be fine."
To tell who's more surprised by his reassuring would be difficult. It's something that was a mantra during their Gokusen days, only with less words and more shoulder bumping. It comes to him almost as a Pavlovian reflex at seeing Kame's distress on set, but Kame's immediate reaction - fingers no longer clutching the papers like a drowning man, and his back no longer appearing to bend in two and snap at any minute - to his words is satisfying on a level he's not ready to think about at the moment.
Still, those few sentences do what they're supposed to, and Kame aces all his scenes on the first try.
During their impromptu breaks, Kame always ends up somehow next to him, and before Jin's brain can catch up with him they're four years back in time, with Jin teasing rather than sulking and Kame reacting other than turning his head away.
It's the easiest and most natural thing in the world.
It scares Jin to his bones.
-
"Not that I'm complaining that you're here, but don't you have other places to grace with your presence?" Shirota asks while Rina is dangling from Jin's arms, all laughter and loud shrieks as Jin tosses her up in the air.
"Yes, but your sister is the most adorable little lady in the whole wide world and deserves all of my attention."
"Well, that's certainly true." Shirota seems mollified by his reasoning, and soon he's talking about the new club they should check out while Jin eats and plays hide and seek with Rina who's zigzagging under the tables like a professional ninja.
"Your family's tapas is still the best in Japan," Jin hums with pleasure as he picks up the last from his plate.
"I'm glad Akanishi Jin approves," Shirota snorts. "By the way, I've caught one of your interviews. You know, you were actually looking at the camera and participating in the discussion, and were awfully tight with Kamenashi. And you almost looked like you were enjoying yourself - so much so that I had to switch the channel before I had a heart attack."
"Oh shut it," Jin snaps at him good naturedly, no longer hungry and with Rina's small form leaning into his side, trying to crawl onto his lap to get his attention. "Kame's been pretty tolerable lately, and it certainly helps with this whole make believe campaign."
Shirota's eyebrows climb up high on his forehead. "Since when are you calling him Kame?"
Jin doesn't want to tell him that he's never stopped calling him Kame in his head, so he just gives a little half-shrug and tickles Rina instead. When her laughter ebbs, her little arms wound around his neck and she plants a sloppy kiss onto his cheek.
"Jin, when I get older I want to be your bride," she says, still a little short of breath.
"When you get older I'll ask you to marry me," Jin promises.
"That's it. You're not allowed to come within two feet of my precious little sister anymore."
-
One of their important escape scenes takes place in a swimming pool, and Jin, wearing layers over layers in the stifling, humid air is not so sure about Yamapi's future plan of permanently moving to Hawaii anymore. It's hot, it's wet and his make-up needs to be reapplied before every retake. Kame's wearing less than him but looks more like a horror show survivor, his once white shirt hanging off his shoulders in tattered stripes with fake blood running down his arm and scattering around his feet, blooming crimson water lilies in tiny puddles with his every step.
Jin takes down three guys coming at him at lightening speed, drops the now empty gun and starts running, everything going according to script until he takes a turn and slips on the wet tiles. He falls into the pool in a whirlwind of erratic arm movements, and swallows a mouthful of chlorine tasting water when he lets out a surprised shout. He comes up coughing and sputtering, legs kicking fast and hard, fingers reaching for a steady surface and ends up grabbing the offered hand of one of his currently-dead costars.
When he gets his breathing under control and his ears are not muffled by excess water, he hears quiet snickering in front of him. When he pushes his wet hair out of his face to take a look at who's trying so hard to hold back his laughter, he finds Kame kneeling on the ground near the brink of the pool.
Jin gives him an annoyed frown and Kame tries to school his expression, but his voice is still trembling a bit when he asks, "All right?"
Jin's answer catches in his throat and he sneezes instead twice. Kame's laughter finally breaks free, clear and full of mirth, bouncing off the water surface to echo inside the pool. The sound reminds Jin of his trainee days, lazy afternoons spent in a boneless heap on the practice room floor, feeling sweaty and tired, but happy and satisfied. The lingering memory leaves his whole body pleasantly warm, makes him smile.
His smile quickly turns into a grin, though, when he reaches up with both hands and grabs at Kame's shirt, fingers tangling in the material; and uses every pound and wet layer on himself as leverage to pull Kame into the pool. The shell-shocked and utterly outraged expression on Kame's face before he meets the surface is totally worth the few kicks Jin gets underwater for his feat.
-
During their Okyakusama wa Kamisama tour, Jin almost always roomed with Kame. After the night in which Kame got his first plush turtle from one of their fans and was quick enough to hide it from management to keep it, Jin declared the event worthy of celebration.
They nicked some pudding from the kitchen and stayed up well into the night, smothering laughter into their pillows. Jin's fingers were sticky-sweet and his belly felt pleasantly full while he was sitting on Kame's bed, listening to him rave about the recent Yomiuri Giants versus Hanshin Tigers match. He neither really understood nor liked baseball, but talking about it made Kame grin with that special grin of his, crooked teeth and all, so Jin didn't tell him to shut up.
"Hey, Kame." Jin poked him with his spoon to get his attention when Kame run out of steam about the most epic home-run in the history of baseball. "Dou you think we will be in the same group after we debut?"
Kame blinked and turned his head to look at Jin. "How do you know they will even let us debut?"
Jin rolled his eyes. "Are you stupid? Of course they will. We're awesome and will be even more famous than SMAP."
Kame turned onto his stomach and rested his chin on top of his folded hands. "I don't know. Maybe," he said, a little reluctantly. "Do you think they will put us in the same group?"
"I don't want to share the room with anyone else, so they better," Jin said with a frown. It always boggled him why he was the only one to see how talented Kame actually was. Yamapi always made a face when Jin talked about how Kame made this awesome stunt and how he remembered the choreography the best during their practice, while Ryo just laughed and called Kame the ugly one.
"If I do, you do too. I'm not doing this without you." The words were final and Jin meant them with every fiber of his being.
"Idiot, you shouldn't say that," Kame said, pressing his forehead against his hands to hide his face, but his voice sounded embarrassed and pleased.
Jin yawned and pushed Kame over so he could lie down next to him - crawling to his own bed would be more of a hassle than staying in Kame's. He just found a comfortable position wedged between the pillows when Kame broke the silence.
"Jin, what do you want to do in ten years?"
"Hm? Oh. I want to sing. And I want to be even more famous than Kimura Takuya, and-"
"That's impossible," Kame interrupted him almost instantly, and Jin kicked him under the blankets.
"Hey, you asked. I also want to be a father. But only if it's a girl," Jin mused. "You?"
He couldn't hear Kame's plans, though, because Kame took so long with his answer that Jin had already fallen asleep by the time he whispered it.
-
Everything goes well for a few weeks, but soon in the crossfire of watchful eyes and crushing expectations, things slowly start to fall apart.
Kame's constructive criticism regarding whatever Jin does or says morphs and twists into biting snaps often enough to make Jin clam up again and get his slumbering defense shot sky high to dismiss Kame's presence altogether - which makes Kame's jaws clench in frustration and he tries double hard to make up for Jin's lack of cooperation.
They're not sleeping or eating much, and they both know this can't go on for much longer without anyone noticing. Soon enough, Nakamaru asks Jin for some tutoring before a test while Ueda takes Kame to his boxing coach to work out a new exercise regime. Jin plays dumb under Maru's gentle probing, and from the helpless little shrug Ueda gives Maru the next day, he hasn't been that successful with Kame either.
When Management gives them three warnings within the span of five days after a few disastrous interviews, some complaints from the choreographer and a friendly call from The Director, Jin's decided that he's had enough.
When Kame asks him to stay for a few minutes after practice, he drops back onto the couch without complaints.
"Jin," Kame starts, and instead of being frustrated, angry or hurt, he just sounds exhausted and defeated. "That's enough. I get it. We all get it. But I… I can't do this much longer."
"Good. Because I'm almost beyond my limits, too," Jin says, his voice clipped but steady.
The air around them smells of static, standing still and simmering like a hot summer afternoon before a thunderstorm.
"No, Jin. You don't get it. We," Kame says, but stops suddenly, looking for the appropriate words and Jin's heart starts beating widely in his chest, irregular and loud thud-thud drums marching to the rhythm flowing in his veins. The last time he saw Kame like this, Jin ended up with the sharp little jagged shards of his broken childhood dreams and heart between his fingers, bleeding and aching, while Kame walked away to record a single, never turning and his back straight. "We talked. I mean, the group. And we decided that if you want out, you can have it."
Jin swallows. "What do you mean?"
Kame takes a deep breath before he continues. "Look, it's pretty obvious to anyone who's watching that you don't like what you're doing now. You've always been bad about hiding how you feel, and you haven't been happy with your situation for a long time. A few ups here and there, sure, but after that it's back to doing what you'd rather not, and it shows. I'm not saying that's wrong, but it's not so fortunate in this industry. It's dragging you down. It's dragging us down."
Kame lifts his gaze from Jin's shoulder and finally looks him in the eyes. "Frankly, we feel that you'd be a lot happier without KAT-TUN. And if you don't believe in what we can all do together anymore, it's better to put an end to it before things can escalate further."
Jin only stares at Kame for a few, eternal seconds before he starts laughing. It's an ugly laugh, years of hurt and betrayal festering under his skin breaking free, and Kame actually flinches from hearing it.
"And whose," Jin murmurs, his voice syrup-thick and heat dark, "fault do you think it is, Kazuya?"
"I don't-"
"Who was the one who, after we all made a promise to do all or nothing together, decided to sign a contract on the side anyway?"
"They promised to let us debut in spring if I accepted," Kame says after the words sink and curl under his skin.
"People lie."
"Yes, they do," Kame agrees, and there's no shame hiding behind his words. It makes Jin completely and utterly furious.
"Then what do you all want from me? What do you want from me?!"
"I want you to decide whether KAT-TUN means anything more to you other than an irritating obligation."
They're not yet shouting, but they're close enough.
"I asked nicely. I threw a tantrum. I begged you not to do it," Jin presses out between clenched teeth. "If the group means so much to you, why didn't you do the same for me?!"
"After everything, everything Jin, do you think I had the right?!" Kame snaps, finally losing what little self-control he had, breaking and dissolving faster than sugar cane. "It wasn't my place to say anything, not after what I did."
"And in Los Angeles? When you were the only one saying even after Koki run out of steam that it'd be better not to have me back? What about the group, then?" Jin asks bitterly, doesn't add Did you think about the band as a five person group, then?
Kame sighs. "Was it really your decision? Coming back? I know the hiatus was. And I respected that. We all did. But the coming back? Jin, did you really want to come back for good?"
Jin opens his mouth to say yes, but the words get stuck in his throat. A while? Sure. For good? He doesn't know about that.
"Jin, what do you want to do?" Kame asks, and the simple question pins Jin to his seat as a fluttering moth to a board.
"I don't know," he says, looking helpless and conflicted, feeling vulnerable in a way he hasn't in a long while. "I really don't know."
"Think about it. I just… We just wanted you to know that you do have options. We all want KAT-TUN in its original line-up, but it can't stay the way as it is now if this continues. Whatever you decide, just know we'll accept it and support you."
The smile Kame flashes him is bittersweet. "We're in this together until the end, after all. As promised."
Jin swallows, nods, and feels more lost and alone than ever.
-
He's standing in front of a small house, a bag of cherries in one hand and his old keys in another. Everything is the same as he remembers: white picket fence surrounding the garden, green and vibrant with the buzzing of summer. There are hydrangea petals scattered on the ground, a pale cream blanket rolled out almost as an invitation leading to the front door. Wisteria branches hide the entrance in a soft purple waterfall and the sweet smell tickling his nose gets stronger and more alluring as he walks to the door. The scent triggers many of his memories, faded and chipped through time, matching the pealing paint on one corner of the house. He can hear carefree laughter in the back of his mind, Reio shrieking on a swing while Jin pushes him higher and higher, the dry and sturdy bark of his favorite tree under his fingertips as he pulls himself up from the ground and starts climbing.
Everything is familiar and safe, and Jin feels his tension ebb from his back, anger and hurt bleeding out from him step by step, beat by beat.
The house is quiet save for the gentle humming coming somewhere from the back, and Jin smiles as he takes off his shoes, follows the soft melody through the hall and ends up in the kitchen.
"I'm home."
The humming stops and his mother turns around, fingers still deep in strawberry leaves. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, the light coming from the open windows playing with a few, unruly strands around her neck. When she looks at Jin her expression brightens and her eyes shine with faint hues of golden brown. She straightens and wipes her hands on her jeans, and before Jin can blink he's enveloped in a tight embrace.
"Jin, welcome back. I've missed you," she says, her voice lilting and woven with joy from just seeing him. Jin exhales shakily, throat suddenly clogged and tongue heavy between his teeth. He hugs her back, rests his cheek against her hair and takes a deep breath, inhales the faint scent of honey and apples, warmth and love all rolled into a small bundle of happiness.
Her lips feel soft and gentle on his cheeks, and he can't help the answering smile tugging at him as he looks at her.
"I'm sorry for barging in so suddenly. Here, cherries," he starts, and if his voice sounds a bit shaky her mother doesn't comment on it.
"I've said numerous times that feel free to drop by whenever you like, just give us a call before you do. This is your home too, you know, silly boy," she chastises. "But thanks for the cherries. I'll wash them with the berries I've picked. Just sit down somewhere but please be careful of the tools on the chairs and table, I was about to put them away. Do you want to drink anything? Water, juice, beer? Are you hungry? I haven't started on lunch yet, but I can make something quick if you're in a hurry."
Jin takes a seat at the table, amused and content to just watch his mother whirl around the kitchen, answering her thousand questions one at a time. She puts the fruits on the table, a red and vivid mix on white porcelain as she slides onto the chair next to him.
"You look exhausted. Everything all right?" she asks wasting little time, blunt and going for the jugular but softening the blow with the tone of her voice and the look in her eyes. Jin doesn't even consider lying to her, he knows she can tell with her eyes closed and ears shut, doesn't want to hurt her when the answer is obvious anyway.
"Things have been a lot busy and a bit rough. I'll live." He takes a strawberry from the plate, ripe and wet, sweetness flooding his mouth as the soft flesh tears between his teeth. "Delicious. I hope you don't expect me to leave any for Reio and Dad," he hums between bites, and her mother laughs, starts talking about her potted plants and precious garden, and in the thick cocoon of his mother's kitchen, feeling protected and welcomed and loved, Jin loses track of the time.
When he was younger, he always wanted to show off his Mom because she's the most amazing Mom on the planet who ate ice-cream with him before dinner in secret and allowed him to climb the highest branch of the tree as long as she could go after him, with a warm hand resting on his back. When he was older and realized how young she'd truly been when she had him, he was frightened and awed at the same time. Had he been in her place at that age, he's not sure he would've had her courage and confidence to take on so much responsibility, to make a decision so final and irreversible.
He admires her for her determination and faith, loves her for loving him and life enough to give him a chance, even before he was born; that his parents didn't consider him a mistake not worth repeating because Reio was born four years later, his mother still young by society's standards to be a respectable mother. That no matter what he does, she'll welcome him with open arms, without judgment and expectations everyone else pushes onto Jin whether he can take it or not.
The realization that she cares for him like no other always makes Jin's heart ache with love, makes him want to curl up near her outstretched leg on the floor, let her long and slender fingers comb through his hair while he dozes on the porch, sunlight warm on his belly and his limbs feeling heavy like stones.
He hopes he can give back even tenth of what she's given him, never wants to see the shadows of disappointment clouding her eyes.
When their conversation dwindles to comfortable silence Jin licks his lips, nervous and afraid, heart beating staccato against his ribs, a tiny little hummingbird fluttering madly in its cage.
"Mom," he starts, gathering his courage around his feet. "Do you think it's okay to start over?"
Her mother looks at him and doesn't ask him to elaborate or explain. She takes the last cherry from the plate and rolls it between her fingers. "You know, there are things I wish I could have done a little bit differently. Many things, in fact - small and large, and even life-altering. But there is nothing I feel I wouldn't have done or regret after I've done it."
She sighs and her lips stretch to a fleeting smile, nostalgic and sweet with a wistful edge.
"Your grandmother was a strange woman. Odd and eccentric, and knew more Italian than Japanese, but very wise. She always said that life is a maze of choices, and as long as you pick the path that makes you the happiest, the road leading to the exit will be obvious and clear."
Jin remembers Grandma only hazily. She died two years after Reio was born, but his mother always talked about her with fond exasperation.
"Jin, there's always a choice," she continues, sure and calm, still playing with the cherry. "It's yours to make. Your life, your future, your decision and your responsibility - yours alone. The happiest path in the long run is not always the easiest and most obvious, but the choice is always yours to make."
"As your mother, I want what's best for you," she says with an easy smile, acceptance dancing on her lips. "And I believe what's best for you should make you happy. Whether I agree with your choice or not, it doesn't matter because it's not mine to make. Maybe I won't like it, maybe I'll tell you that I believe you're making a mistake, maybe I won't even understand it. But I'll accept whatever your decision might be."
"Jin, I love you, and nothing will change that," she sighs, with a conviction so strong Jin feels almost crushed under its weight. "I only want you to be happy."
Jin feels warm sand beneath his fingertips and hears carefree laughter carried away by the wind, a gentle press on his arm and a familiar presence near his side, years and years of history behind him, a crooked smile and warm eyes, and a devotion clear and bright like the sun.
I don't know. But I want to be happy and have fun. I want you to be happy, too.
"Of course," he whispers, chokes while his past, present and future all come crashing down around him in slow motion, leaving broken pillars and cracked marble in the aftermath.
I want to stay like this for years and years and more.
-
A few times in his life Jin's experienced something like divine guidance. It comes during his special dreams - the ones he can't remember after waking up but leave him feeling peaceful and grounded in a certain way, give him simmering strength and a diamond strong determination to lean on.
The first time he felt it was the day after he'd fallen from the ship and sunk under waves of sea blue that tasted salty like his mother's tears. Another time came after his first ever serious row with Yamapi when they weren't speaking to each other for nine days. He can also remember taking a nap in the beginning of April on a hard bench of the park near his language school in Los Angeles, and waking to the flavor his mother's special Wakatakeni still strong on his tongue.
When Jin walks down the abandoned beach, his bare feet sinking in the sand with his every step and sees Kame waiting for him by the shore, he knows it's one of those dreams.
He comes to a halt next to Kame, close enough to feel the wetness under his heel but far enough that the waves can't reach him. The sky is a fair shade of blue without any whiteness in sight, and the sea is endless and calm before him. The only sound around them is the ripple of waves as they catch on the coast, a gentle lull of rhythmic friction to Jin's ears.
"Been a while," Kame says, breaking the silence but still not looking at Jin, gaze fixed on the scenery. His stance is relaxed, hands hidden deep within the pockets of his jeans, and a faint breeze tugs on the collar of his shirt. He looks older and feels different than the Kame Jin's used to.
Jin hums in agreement. "Sorry I'm late. My schedule was insane."
He takes a deep breath and holds it, the taste of salt and crispy clean air filling his lungs to the brim.
When Kame finally looks at him, eyes wide and open, warm and trusting, Jin chokes and starts coughing.
Kame's laughter, deep and honest, sounds like a promise washing over him. "Ready?" he asks, head tilted to the side, and before Jin can decide he's already stepping forward.
-
He wakes slowly, floating between the peculiar edge of soft dreams and vivid reality before opening his eyes. He sees the ceiling of their designated dressing room, turns his head slightly but doesn't move otherwise and notices Kame sitting on the other couch. His head is bent over a magazine and a tiny frown mars the middle of his forehead.
He should be wearing his glasses, Jin thinks over a yawn and stretches lazily on the lumpy couch. At the movement Kame looks up and Jin's gaze locks with his.
"I'm awake," Jin murmurs after a beat of silence, his mind foggy and voice scratchy from sleep.
Kame looks a touch confused about Jin's declaration, but there's amusement lurking in the depths. "I've noticed. Welcome back."
And in the end, it's really simple to smile. A gentle tilt of the corners of his mouth, still dreamy with the shadows of sleep. It's a close resemblance to one of his long forgotten ones and Jin's almost embarrassed at letting his guard down enough to show it, but Kame's startled expression and widening eyes make it worth his try.
It's a start.