fic: .watch (1/2)
Title: .watch
Author: prologuesized
Beta: pinkeuphoria1
Pairing: Akame
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Deathfic, Angst, Romance, Tragedy, Horror, Fantasy
Disclaimer: Against slavery, even if it is Akame o/
Summary: Future!fic. Jin is forced to watch the countdown to an indefinite end after pressing too hard on the red thread of fate.
Author Note: First of all - a big thank you to kamakazuya for placing the highest bid for my offer at the help_japan auction: $10! As a thank you for that, here’s a fic for you ♥ I’m sorry it’s taken me this long - I blame it on having too much to read at kizuna_exchange and too little time. And writer’s block and a loss of ideas.
...This was supposed to be horror. It really was. Then it turned more into drama. Umh. Sorry about that. I really tried D: But I'm blocking so bad and this is really my third try at anything and I actually managed to finish this so... I hope it'll do? ;;______; I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless.
Wordcount: 10,600
.watch
.prelude
“Time is always relative to a certain extent.”
-
.01 The hands of the pocket watch will always be connected to the destined person of its owner
Jin is freshly fifteen years old as he strolls through the busy marketplace. He listens to the ruckus of the surrounding people - mothers dragging their crying and screaming children by their wrists, young women cooing to their male companions in front of the small stalls and salesmen chattering briskly and loudly with their customers. His feet drag across the pavement as he breathes in the smell of cigarettes and exhaust fumes and ponders about seemingly stupid little things such as the true meaning of friendship, companionship and shoulder to cry on.
Occasionally he makes a brief pause in front of a particularly fascinating stall and fondles the little pocket money he has tucked away at the very bottom of the pocket of his khaki trousers. He takes his time to stare at a pastry stand while trying to figure out the dilemma between wanting and not needing in his head. It always comes down to it, but since he’s a man for the wanting he finds himself taking a few steps closer. That is, before someone taps his shoulder gently and attracts his attention.
He lifts his head up to look at an old man whose face is hidden by a mysterious shade provided by his hat under the afternoon sun. The old man kneels down on one knee next to him and takes his hand slowly in his own, placing a cool object in his palm.
Jin’s eyes widen and the pastries are well out of his mind as his thumb brushes over the ornaments carved in the golden shell of a pocket watch he’s holding. The man cracks him a playful smile and invites him closer with a gentle flick of his fingers. Jin leans his ear closer to the man’s lips and feels his raspy breath tickling at the shell of his ear.
“That, my son, is a very special kind of pocket watch,” he whispers to him as people pass them by, paying no heed to a young lad and an old wise man exchanging legacy. “It is run by the red thread of fate.”
“Really?” Jin asks, glancing down at the antique object in his hands. Even with its material’s expected shine the clock looks old and unpolished, smudged dark through time and frequent holds of sweaty hands. “Then what does it do?”
“That, my lad, is up to you,” the man nods with a gentle smile and stands up, ruffling Jin’s dark hair fondly. “But take a few tips from the old wise man - don’t pester faith too much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jin mumbles in annoyance, opening the lid of the watch curiously to peek at the tiny numbers printed on the clock face. Two golden hands remain unmoving while a red one hovers weakly, thin enough to snap from the smallest of touch would someone remove the glass cover. “I’ve never been good with cryptic speeches, old man.”
But when he turns his eyes back to the man he’s already gone - lost somewhere in the mass of chattering people carrying their stuffed bags. He holds the pocket watch in his hand and tries to catch a glimpse of the man’s hat but fails, no matter how much he turns around and pushes people out of his way as he slips through the crowd
That night, at home, he takes the watch from his pocket to inspect it. He assumes it’s out of batteries, but can’t seem to find a lid he could open. He pulls on the crown and turns the hands of the clock forward for a few lone laps before he grows bored and places it gently on his nightstand.
The next day he can’t help but wonder how Kame is suddenly so vibrant and full of toothy smiles and impressive shine like no other.
.02 The pocket watch will start running only after being in the presence of its owner’s destined person
Eventually, he catches on while walking with his heart on his sleeve, the very same one Kame keeps pulling as he drags him to places during the breaks between the junior practices. He follows obediently as day after day they visit Takizawa and Kimura, snicker with Kame’s little fanboy Kusano and enjoy coffees at the small cafeteria downstairs. Kame likes his coffee with cream and one sugar, Jin knows and he lets out a quiet “yuck!” every time his friend places his order.
One day he takes the mysterious pocket watch to work. He listens to Kame’s enthusiastic speech about baseball and whatnots, watches the sparkles in his eyes and shining teeth and keeps brushing the faded ornaments.
He feels a gentle vibration in his hand and secretly pulls the pocket watch out of his pocket and on his lap. He opens the lid and sees the hands quietly making their stroll, the red hand almost like to the rhythm of a heartbeat he isn’t able to hear.
He feels his heart pounding in answer. He gently pulls on the crown and turns it ahead, watching as the flood of emotions in the younger boy’s eyes intensifies and grows. It leaves him feeling nervous and giddy, unable to quite comprehend the situation at hand.
It doesn’t matter that Kame’s just one of the kids no one expects much from - it doesn’t matter that his eyebrows are wild and bushy under his straight-cut dark hair and creepily narrow eyes. He finds himself unable to care about stupid things like becoming successful in the business while he spends time with his friend, remembering the time when they met at the auditions - Kame had worn a white tank top two sizes too big for him (probably inherited from his older siblings) and dark blue Adidas sweat pants.
And so, just like that, at the age of 14, he questions his sexuality for the first time in his life. The answer is something he remains unsure of, but as he listens to Kame’s cheery and child-like laughter he finds himself being fine either way.
It’s only later that Kame turns into a beautiful swan from his ugly duckling form, putting all of the previously pretty boys into his shade as he walks with confidence and grace. There’s a cute little bounce in his steps as he moves by Jin’s side.
Then Jin realises he’s head over his heels and unable to see anyone else long enough to even give them a chance.
The hands of the clock don’t stop racing after that.
.03 The pocket watch regulates life contained in its owner’s destined person
It takes them long years to mature enough to admit their feelings. Even then Jin isn’t the one with the initiative - around midway through the filming of Gokusen 2 he and Kame are using the train to return to the Jimusho for their dance practice when the younger boy nervously pecks his temple, soft lips pressing against the sensitive skin.
Jin freezes on the spot, eyes wide and mind racing but unable to give him a comeback. They’re in public so making a big scene is out of the question.
Kame is anxiously leaning away from him. His arms are crossed and eyes hidden by his copper fringes. He looks beautiful as the strands of his hair gently caress his shoulders, still straight from the filming.
Jin watches the other passengers nervously, afraid of being recognized. He strips his jacket off and places it on his lap to cover his hand as it pulls Kame’s under it too, in a firm hold.
Kame’s eyes snap at him. Jin brushes the soft skin of his cold hands confidently and feels his heart beating so hard and loud he’s afraid everyone will hear.
They skip practice after that and hit Jin’s place, because Kame still lives at home with his parents and his apartment is closer anyway. They spend hours just kissing and cuddling and laughing into each other’s mouths. It feels thrilling and right.
Kame stays over. When he falls asleep in Jin’s arms, still fully clothed, Jin pulls out the golden pocket watch and turns the crown. He does it every night, already figuring out the positive correlation it has with the man in his arms.
It’s the best time of his life, he decides contently.
.04 Turning the hands of the pocket watch to the opposite direction will drain the life out of its owner’s destined person
Cannon ball fights teach Jin the darker side to his cherished object.
He’s never been good with his words, nor has he ever been able to physically harm the people important to him. Still, the sound of their fighting echoes from the walls within his apartment. Whoever claims that physical beating is more harmful than words is wrong, Jin feels as he listens to Kame’s cruel and icy screams that claw at his throat.
It isn’t always clear who starts the yelling - it’s become almost like a custom between them. Maybe it’s all because of the stress they have piling up on their shoulders, or maybe it’s guilt from their forbidden relationship and all the lies and secrets accompanying their lives.
It really doesn’t matter, though.
The major turn in their relationship is provided by one fight in particular - Kame’s debut. Kame’s, not KAT-TUN’s, because Kame’s enough of a traitor to obey Johnny’s whim and release a single with his friend, Yamapi from NEWS. He even has the balls to include his solo Kizuna, a theme from Gokusen.
“It’s written for me,” Jin roars furiously at Kame’s pale yet stubborn face. “I don’t want you to fucking release it with Yamapi! You’re supposed to release it with me, you can’t do this!”
“It’s my solo. I don’t have any other solos, Jin,” Kame calmly tries to reason with him. He looks more strained than usual, more stressed and tired. “And people have requested it a lot. Fans of Gokusen have requested it,” he tries to appease him. “It’s not like it’s going to change the song and what’s behind it.”
“It’s going to change everything!” Jin screams and pulls his hair in frustration. “You can’t do it, you can’t! You wrote it for me! That’s fucking betrayal, Kame! This is betrayal already but that’s the last straw! You can’t do it!”
“It’s always going to be for you,” Kame snaps coldly. “Jin, shut up already. You’re making such a big scene out of this.”
“THEN FUCKING GO!” he screams and shoves Kame violently, sending him flying back a few steps. Kame looks at him, eyes wide and alarmed as Jin pants from further away. His hands are trembling and he shakes his head.
“…Fine,” Kame finally croaks and stomps to the foyer to pull his shoes on. “Whatever you want. Fine. Be like that.”
Then he’s gone and Jin has no one to take the fury out on. No more Kame, no more love, no other best friend than Yamapi (who’s a betrayer too for stealing his band mate, but not even nearly on the same level as Kame) and nothing to look forward to anymore.
He furiously storms to his bedroom and pulls his nightstand’s drawer open. The contents of the drawer rattle as his hand goes through condoms, lubes, pens, and several jewellery pieces before he finally finds what he’s searching for.
He crashes on his bed and starts turning the crown to the forbidden direction. He turns it one lap after another and starts crying. He just wants to take the happiness away from Kame as well, just like he had done to him.
Kame starts changing after that. He becomes frail and even bonier than before. There are dark rings around his eyes and the only times his smile reaches his eyes are when the cameras are on and he’s faking it.
It’s as if the clock would suck the life out of him, and no matter how awful it is, Jin can’t help feeling morbid contentment as he observes the damage he inflicts on his previous lover.
.05 Misuse of the pocket watch is prohibited and should the owner treat fate wrongly, he is to be punished by the ultimatum
Eventually, after a six month trip to LA in order for Jin to “find himself” by staying apart enough from Kame, they click again. Feeling guilty for his childish behaviour Jin finds himself nervously winding the crown forward again. The familiar strong smiles and an arm occasionally wrapping itself around him enchant him over and over again, just like it always has.
Kame’s a physical person, he knows it. Still, what the pocket watch has proven to him is something greater - that no matter the shit they get piled up on them, they’re still bound together tightly, unable to fall out of love. Sometimes he wonders if he’s just a naïve child to think so - then Kame proves him wrong by going for his lips in an abandoned dressing room amidst uncountable racks of sparkly costumes and feather hats.
“I love you,” he croaks weakly at the younger man, threading his fingers through the short hair he has cut for his currently airing drama. “You can’t even imagine how much I love you.”
“Bakanishi,” Kame whispers back, pressing another kiss on his swollen lips. “I’ve always loved you back, you idiot.”
Their relationship is complexly on and off after that. It’s all about fighting and making up, setting shared ground and yanking free from the other’s strong hold. They never learn to discuss their problems like adults and both hot-headedly and stubbornly refuse to compromise when they really should.
Jin’s addicted to his mysterious pocket watch. On the ups of their relationship he keeps happily winding the little crown forwards, enjoying the most beautiful sight of Kame beside him in the morning, yearning for more of him. On the downs, however, he easily slips into broodingly meddling with the clock to hurt his companion. Eventually, he has figured, it always makes him come back to him. Not to mention he’s too afraid of Kame being happy without him and moving on that he just can’t find it in himself to let him enjoy life if he’s not the most important part of it.
Kame leaves him again one night. Their fight actually grows physical and the damage seems irreparable. They both spit fire and ice at each other and Jin feels his hip bruising from the collision against the kitchen table after Kame had harshly sent him flying.
“I fucking hate you, you coward,” Kame spits at him and goes to fetch his coat furiously. “I’m done with you, Jin. This time I’m really done,” he threatens as he throws it on with the most disappointed and angry look he has given Jin to this day. “I’m fucking stupid for sticking around for this long, just hoping you’d maybe finally one day grow up to be a fucking man and make this work!”
“Oh, so it’s my fault, huh!?” Jin roars back at him and grabs a coffee mug from the kitchen counter only to send it flying on the wall. Porcelain shards rattle on the floor. “What the fuck have I done wrong? Maybe if you’d fucking tell me what I’m doing wrong -”
“YOU JUST REALLY DON’T CARE!” Kame bellows back at him, eyes widened with the intensity of his overflowing emotions. “YOU DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF, YOU ASSHOLE! You could try to meet me halfway at least every now and then but NO! You could fucking treat me like you actually love me, not just act like some lovesick puppy who needs to be loved himself and wants a safe booty call!”
It hurts. Kame doesn’t understand - Kame hasn’t really been able to read his mind since the better days of their youth when their heads actually worked alike. Jin isn’t good at showing what he feels - he expects people around him to get it if he’s vaguely hinting at it and usually it works so.
It’s too bad Kame’s always been too insecure about himself to find comfort in mere hints.
“You’re the one who always leaves,” he notes with a cold and accusing voice. Kame flinches and opens his mouth, trying to come up with a comeback. He’s unable to, though.
“Maybe you shouldn’t make me leave then,” he finally says with a strained voice. Jin scoffs and stomps towards him, fury arising from his depths.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he threatens and pushes Kame against the front door. “IF YOU FUCKING HATE IT SO MUCH, HOW ABOUT YOU GO OUT AND STAY OUT, YOU PIECE OF UNGRATEFUL SHIT!”
“Let me fucking get my stuff -!”
“I’ll mail it to you,” Jin growls and opens the lock of his door, pushing Kame out to the staircase. “Have a fucking great night!” Kame stares at him with wide and furious eyes. He looks a bit scared too, standing shoeless with his shoulders high in defence. Jin assumes he can be scary when he snaps.
“We’re over,” it’s his turn to say as he shakes his head. “Farewell.”
It’s a good thing they don’t work together anymore. Kame starts storming down the staircase, not bothering with waiting for the elevator even though it’s eight floors down. Jin slams the door shut and hopes his neighbours won’t file complaints about him.
The porcelain shards still lie on his kitchen floor and the whole place is a mess. Jin snarls furiously and feels too angry to cry. He storms into his bedroom and pulls the pocket watch out of his nightstand drawer. He crashes on the bed, pulls on the crown and starts winding the hands backwards. He goes on for full five laps before he feels too furious to try to get his anger off with such a little thing. He’d rather find Kame’s old boxing gloves somewhere and hit the wall with them.
He pushes the crown back down snappily, lips pressed into a thin line to reflect his anger. However, this time the crown doesn’t snap neatly to its place and set the clock running again like it normally does. The crown disappears to the depths of the watch, leaving Jin only staring dumbly at the object in his hands.
“…What?” he mumbles and tries to bang the pocket watch to the nightstand to get the small and vital part of the watch out again. “What!? What!? No! No no no no no no no!” he wails in horror and realises that the part where the crown once stood isn’t anywhere to be found anymore - the surface of the clock is smooth gold once again, with no sign of damage. “NO!”
The next revelation drains all the remaining blood from his face and leaves him nauseous. The hands of the clock are running, yes - but not to their usual direction. They’re ticking backwards, slowly but certainly, second by second.
“No. God, no,” he whispers and swallows. There’s a lump in his throat and pure horror starts setting in at the pit of his stomach.
The final countdown towards the indefinite end starts.
-
.end of prelude
“The means justify the end.”
-
Three months later their paths cross again.
Jin steps in the elevator where Kame stands with his arms crossed, leaning against the steel shiny enough to reflect its surroundings like a mirror. He feels a strong need to back away and flee the situation like some silly dumped preadolescent, but his pride doesn’t let him reach quite that level of pathetic, even in the dire situation.
Like that they end up sharing the way-too-tiny elevator with just the two of them and some awkward music playing from the speakers. Jin scratches his neck and tries to avoid looking at the ashen reflections of the younger man standing somewhere behind him, looking like a ghost already.
Jin’s free hand slips in his pocket where he anxiously fondles the golden pocket watch. Kame’s reflection before him turns his face up to look at the ceiling while he curls a strand of his hair around his finger absently.
“The Smiths,” Kame finally mumbles, breaking the silence and Jin’s focus on the changing light indicating the floor the elevator passes by.
“Huh?”
“The music. It’s by The Smiths. A British band.”
“…Oh.”
After that Jin starts actually listening to the music and curses in his head. It’s not that the song is bad per se - it’s not really his usual taste (it could maybe somehow fit Kame’s taste which mainly includes everything but the music he enjoys the most) but he figures it isn’t so bad. The lyrics make him feel miserable, though, especially since Kame’s still standing probably less than a metre behind him.
“This song was on a soundtrack,” Kame continues his nervous chatter, his gaze falling to his restless feet. “500 Days of Summer, have you seen it? It’s American. Some romantic bullshit. It was good, though.”
As expected from Kame. He’s always been more into London and Paris while he’s all into Los Angeles, New York and San Francisco, but even with their differences, Kame’s always been exceptionally talented at creating links between their worlds and joining them comfortably together.
It’s then that Jin starts missing Kame like crazy again. The eyes of their reflections meet on the elevator’s door, both sorrowful and exhausted. They aren’t really all too good at taking care of themselves while apart and it’s always been easily visible to the outsiders.
He can feel his pocket watch ticking inside his closed fist. Kame’s skin looks clammy and now that his walls are somewhat down, Jin can detect the missing cheerful atmosphere around him. He also seems to have lost weight recently.
He feels too guilty to look any longer. He’s blocked it already for so long, telling himself he doesn’t care.
“Haven’t seen,” Jin admits with a pathetic croak and wonders why Kame’s suddenly attempting small talk like the last time they saw each other hadn’t been three months ago in a heated fight where they broke up - once again.
Kame falls silent after that. The elevator stops on the fifth floor and Kame pushes past him. KAT-TUN’s dressing room is on this particular floor, Jin remembers with stinging nostalgia.
They don’t exchange polite goodbyes. It’s probably his fault - Kame had made an attempt to talk to him, yet he hadn’t met him halfway. Just like he never did, according to the old but still loud and clear shouts in his head, still detailed with every crack and tremble of the younger man’s voice.
He hops on his car to drive to the concert venue where he’s supposed to be for some discussion about stage props and light work and tries to block the whole encounter out of his head. The dread and guilt are too bad, too overwhelming.
“Damn it,” he curses and slams the radio shut when it starts playing the same song as the one in the elevator. Talking about irony. The singer has a melancholic voice anyway, it’s depressing to listen to. Kame can be ridiculously depressing way too often than can be considered healthy.
He stops in the parking lot near the venue and fishes out the golden watch from its chain. It glimmers as the shine coming through the window reflects from its surface. He presses gently on the button that opens the lid and peers at the hands of the clock, still steadily ticking backwards towards the doomsday.
Each passing second Kame’s smile is a little further away, he knows, and he doesn’t know how much longer he has time to smile and prance around. He could be spending his time hitting it off with some lucky man for all life’s worth while he still could, but unfortunately he doesn’t know a thing. Kame probably thinks of it as a passing phase, just as always. Except that now it might actually be for good.
He buries his face in his hands and tries to remain calm. He can’t cry - there’s no way he’s going to walk into the meeting with swollen and bloodshot eyes. No fucking way.
And, because of that, he’s fifteen minutes late for the appointment. His manager scolds him and he tries to blame the traffic, because it’s an easy excuse to get away with. The pure hell Tokyo’s traffic can be at the most inconvenient timing is common knowledge in and out of the country.
Jin just wishes he wouldn’t have seen the hollow and distant look in Kame’s once so hopeful eyes.
-
“Umm, Jin, this is Nakamaru Yuichi,” his voicemail informs him when he checks it at home. “You haven’t answered or returned my calls in months, I’m getting worried. I understand you’re busy but it would be nice to hear back from you?” There’s a nervous laughter that makes Jin feel miserable. “And if this is because of Kame then just know that he’s miserable and misses you too. Just… try to confront each other and figure out whatever you’re fighting about, okay? It’s making you miserable. Please call me sometimes? Bye.”
There’s a beep and Jin sighs, rubbing his temples anxiously. …He does miss Yuichi. He misses how easily he can be fooled into paying for the fun times, how he can occasionally learn little bits of smart-sounding information from the university boy and Yuichi’s a chill guy anyway.
It’s just that he can’t. He can’t talk to someone who faces Kame every day. Who watches him drain away like water through parted fingers.
“Yo, Jin, it’s Junnosuke!” Junno’s voice chants from the speaker cheerily. Not an unusual caller either. “We haven’t met up in ages! Maru and I are worried~” Yeah, he’s figured that much, thank you. “Let’s go out for dinner sometime! Call us back! Byee!”
It’s stupid to miss even Junno. He misses all the KAT-TUN members, really, yet seems to have fallen out of contact with Koki and Ueda. He isn’t even sure if they’re on speaking terms or not. They could occasionally meet with Kame around while they were still together but, well, that was three months ago. Things change.
It’s not that he doesn’t have friends. He does, lots and lots of friends - he’s a social butterfly after all. But it does make him a bit apathetic to fall out of contact with the guys he’d spent most of his youth and onwards working with.
He turns the TV on just to get some noise in the house before he starts fixing himself instant noodles for late dinner. The pocket watch sits on the table next to him and he keeps staring at it miserably.
He’s unable to stop thinking. He can try it all he wants, but he’ll always find his desperate attempts failing. All he can see is Kame rolling on his sheets, body naked and smooth and smile vibrant and full of love and caring.
He wipes his eyes dry and breathes painfully against his palm for a while to keep himself from falling apart. He’s done it so many times before he isn’t sure if he can handle it for much longer.
-
That night, he dreams of being an old wise man. Even the skin of his hands is wrinkled and far from its youth. He’s looking at a pocket watch in front of him. It’s large and golden, hung in a shrine where it spins around. It’s hypnotising. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there.
There’s a maniacal giggle around him. Jin breathes heavily as child-like arms wrap themselves around him and a young boy circles him before he stops in front of him, looking up with his eyes wide in wonder. His smile can reach other universes, Jin is sure as he looks down, and the boy lunges his hands upwards to grasp the front of his shirt.
“I’ve done bad things,” Jin’s mouth speaks for him and he turns his head back to the ticking clock. The numbers are scrambled and the sound of the hands ticking is sharp.
“Yes, you have,” the boy answers and skips away. He’s got the hair of Kame’s nineteen-year-old self - actually, now that he looks better, it’s Kame from his Ryu times standing next to the clock, cocking his head with wide and empty eyes.
“Tick tock tick tock,” Kame chants at him, paling away. “TICK TOCK TICK TOCK! TICK TOCK TICK TOCK -!”
Jin screams, takes a step back and falls. He doesn’t hit the ground. Kame’s lying under him, eyes smeared with a scarlet substance.
“Caught you,” he murmurs quietly, fondness lacing his voice, and goes limp under him.
Then they fall again.
-
Sadly for him, their paths are always meant to collide. It’s the red thread of faith, he tells himself as he stares dumbly at Kame’s appalled face in front of him in the make-up section of his local supermarket where he’d planned to go for a quick grab of foundation.
Too bad Kame seems to have miraculously chosen the same store at the same time for the exact same purpose. Alright, not the exact same, he admits as he sees eyeliner and black nail polish in the man’s hands as well.
“Oh. Hi,” Kame nods at him politely. “Long time no see.”
It’s been two weeks since the elevator incident. On their recent scale it’s not exactly a long time, but he doesn’t really want to start a fight by starting yet another useless argument. He nods politely as an answer and grabs his usual product.
“Bye,” he mumbles and starts walking away. Kame flinches noticeably and doesn’t answer or come after him, even if he’s probably finished with his shopping. Jin gulps and manages to make his way good ten steps away from the man before turning around, guilt too overwhelming to ignore.
He’s not a bad guy. Not really.
“Are you by car?” he asks the man a bit louder and Kame’s head snaps at him. He looks confused at his sudden change of attitude and perhaps a bit hopeful too. He’s too tired to look genuinely happy, though.
“Yeah,” comes the short answer and Kame finally dares to make his way closer to him. “Why are you asking?”
“…I thought you could give me a ride or something,” Jin shrugs. “Then I wouldn’t have to walk.”
“Sure. Of course,” Kame nods. “I’ll give you a ride home. Your address is still the same, right?”
“Yeah,” Jin confirms and licks his lips nervously, a habit he had picked from no other than Kame himself. “Nothing’s really changed since then.”
They pay for their purchases at different checkouts to avoid getting recognized together. After that Kame ushers him to his familiar vehicle in which Jin slips all too comfortably. Kame hops on the driver’s seat and gives him a smile that for once seems at least a bit genuine.
“Buckle up,” he orders and Jin can’t help but chuckle awkwardly as he does as he’s told. Kame attaches his own seatbelt before starting the car. The build-in radio is playing some country-ish pop songs with a lot of piano melody. Kame’s always loved the sound of the piano, Jin knows, but he’s never learned to play it himself. Kame’s the sort of person who watches big Hollywood movies and opens his laptop to order himself the soundtracks just to relive everything by listening to the unfamiliar instruments clashing together. He’s the reason KAT-TUN’s music has taken a slightly more liberal stand to new instruments in their songs.
Their music sounds good, still. He’s secretly purchased all the versions of every single and album they’ve released since his departure.
“How’ve you been feeling?” Jin can’t help asking with a strained voice as he steals a glance at his ex on his left. Kame shrugs, turning the volume of the radio down a little.
“I’ve been fairing,” he answers. He’s careful not to worry once again, perfecting his little avoidant answer with a small smirk at his direction. “I’ve been a bit tired though, I guess. How are you? No one hears anything from you anymore.”
True that. It makes him feel guiltier now that he’s aware of Kame knowing about his little manoeuvre out of his old band mates’ lives.
“But you’ve been… healthy and everything?” Jin tries to prompt Kame further. The man glances at him with a wary look, the muscles of his body straining under his scrutinizing stare. It’s probably a bit intimidating.
“Yes? Why?” Kame mumbles at him as he steers the wheel to make a turn at the lights. “Have I seemed ill lately?”
“…A bit,” Jin admits. “You’re thinner… Are you eating properly?”
“I’m eating properly,” Kame snaps. He seems to regret it right away, though, judging by the sudden frown following his words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I guess I just didn’t expect you to care.”
“I do care,” Jin says before he can think about what’s coming out of his mouth. It’s a frequent problem he has and has always wanted to get rid of. He’s been unsuccessful, though.
Kame looks at him, a sad and yearning look in his eyes. Jin’s heart beats painfully.
It takes him awhile to realise that Kame’s car is safely parked on the side of the road just before his house.
“Oh,” he mumbles and bends over to grab his bag nervously. “Yeah. We’re here. Umm.”
There’s a soft touch at his back and he rises up slowly. Kame’s looking at him straight in the eyes, almost pleading with his gaze. It makes Jin’s heart die just a little more if it’s even possible.
“…Be happy, alright?” he croaks again as he opens the door and slips out. It hurts him a little too much to feel Kame’s touch slide away from his skin. He looks beaten as he withdraws his hand, eyes dark and gloomy again. “Promise me? Go and have fun now. I’m ordering you to.”
“You’re weird,” Kame smirks at him, trying to keep his strong-guy façade up. “You’ve always been weird, but this is really something, Bakanishi. You’re talking like you’d be terminally ill or something. You’re worrying me.”
The opposite, more likely. Not that he’d ever be able to tell. On top of admitting to his fatal mistake, he’d also have to sound like a nutcase babbling about a magical pocket watch about to take Kame’s breath away quite literally. “Nothing like that. You just worry too much about me.”
“Well, you were always good at making me worry,” Kame sighs. “…Please give us a call every now and then. We don’t hate you as much as you probably think.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jin chuckles miserably. He isn’t able to shake off the harsh looks on Koki’s and Ueda’s faces. Especially Koki’s. The guy has been overprotective of Kame ever since he first left for LA. “…Bye.”
“Bye,” Kame chimes and raises his hand for a brief wave. “See you around.”
After that, Kame drives off. Jin doesn’t bother to see his car disappear around the corner but enters the code to the door’s automatic lock and slumps inside.
The elevator is playing Kizuna of all the possible songs in the world. His stomach churns uncomfortably as he waits for his floor and makes his way to his apartment.
He sort of wishes he wouldn’t have approached Kame at the store.
-
PART 2
Author: prologuesized
Beta: pinkeuphoria1
Pairing: Akame
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Deathfic, Angst, Romance, Tragedy, Horror, Fantasy
Disclaimer: Against slavery, even if it is Akame o/
Summary: Future!fic. Jin is forced to watch the countdown to an indefinite end after pressing too hard on the red thread of fate.
Author Note: First of all - a big thank you to kamakazuya for placing the highest bid for my offer at the help_japan auction: $10! As a thank you for that, here’s a fic for you ♥ I’m sorry it’s taken me this long - I blame it on having too much to read at kizuna_exchange and too little time. And writer’s block and a loss of ideas.
...This was supposed to be horror. It really was. Then it turned more into drama. Umh. Sorry about that. I really tried D: But I'm blocking so bad and this is really my third try at anything and I actually managed to finish this so... I hope it'll do? ;;______; I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless.
Wordcount: 10,600
.watch
.prelude
“Time is always relative to a certain extent.”
-
.01 The hands of the pocket watch will always be connected to the destined person of its owner
Jin is freshly fifteen years old as he strolls through the busy marketplace. He listens to the ruckus of the surrounding people - mothers dragging their crying and screaming children by their wrists, young women cooing to their male companions in front of the small stalls and salesmen chattering briskly and loudly with their customers. His feet drag across the pavement as he breathes in the smell of cigarettes and exhaust fumes and ponders about seemingly stupid little things such as the true meaning of friendship, companionship and shoulder to cry on.
Occasionally he makes a brief pause in front of a particularly fascinating stall and fondles the little pocket money he has tucked away at the very bottom of the pocket of his khaki trousers. He takes his time to stare at a pastry stand while trying to figure out the dilemma between wanting and not needing in his head. It always comes down to it, but since he’s a man for the wanting he finds himself taking a few steps closer. That is, before someone taps his shoulder gently and attracts his attention.
He lifts his head up to look at an old man whose face is hidden by a mysterious shade provided by his hat under the afternoon sun. The old man kneels down on one knee next to him and takes his hand slowly in his own, placing a cool object in his palm.
Jin’s eyes widen and the pastries are well out of his mind as his thumb brushes over the ornaments carved in the golden shell of a pocket watch he’s holding. The man cracks him a playful smile and invites him closer with a gentle flick of his fingers. Jin leans his ear closer to the man’s lips and feels his raspy breath tickling at the shell of his ear.
“That, my son, is a very special kind of pocket watch,” he whispers to him as people pass them by, paying no heed to a young lad and an old wise man exchanging legacy. “It is run by the red thread of fate.”
“Really?” Jin asks, glancing down at the antique object in his hands. Even with its material’s expected shine the clock looks old and unpolished, smudged dark through time and frequent holds of sweaty hands. “Then what does it do?”
“That, my lad, is up to you,” the man nods with a gentle smile and stands up, ruffling Jin’s dark hair fondly. “But take a few tips from the old wise man - don’t pester faith too much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jin mumbles in annoyance, opening the lid of the watch curiously to peek at the tiny numbers printed on the clock face. Two golden hands remain unmoving while a red one hovers weakly, thin enough to snap from the smallest of touch would someone remove the glass cover. “I’ve never been good with cryptic speeches, old man.”
But when he turns his eyes back to the man he’s already gone - lost somewhere in the mass of chattering people carrying their stuffed bags. He holds the pocket watch in his hand and tries to catch a glimpse of the man’s hat but fails, no matter how much he turns around and pushes people out of his way as he slips through the crowd
That night, at home, he takes the watch from his pocket to inspect it. He assumes it’s out of batteries, but can’t seem to find a lid he could open. He pulls on the crown and turns the hands of the clock forward for a few lone laps before he grows bored and places it gently on his nightstand.
The next day he can’t help but wonder how Kame is suddenly so vibrant and full of toothy smiles and impressive shine like no other.
.02 The pocket watch will start running only after being in the presence of its owner’s destined person
Eventually, he catches on while walking with his heart on his sleeve, the very same one Kame keeps pulling as he drags him to places during the breaks between the junior practices. He follows obediently as day after day they visit Takizawa and Kimura, snicker with Kame’s little fanboy Kusano and enjoy coffees at the small cafeteria downstairs. Kame likes his coffee with cream and one sugar, Jin knows and he lets out a quiet “yuck!” every time his friend places his order.
One day he takes the mysterious pocket watch to work. He listens to Kame’s enthusiastic speech about baseball and whatnots, watches the sparkles in his eyes and shining teeth and keeps brushing the faded ornaments.
He feels a gentle vibration in his hand and secretly pulls the pocket watch out of his pocket and on his lap. He opens the lid and sees the hands quietly making their stroll, the red hand almost like to the rhythm of a heartbeat he isn’t able to hear.
He feels his heart pounding in answer. He gently pulls on the crown and turns it ahead, watching as the flood of emotions in the younger boy’s eyes intensifies and grows. It leaves him feeling nervous and giddy, unable to quite comprehend the situation at hand.
It doesn’t matter that Kame’s just one of the kids no one expects much from - it doesn’t matter that his eyebrows are wild and bushy under his straight-cut dark hair and creepily narrow eyes. He finds himself unable to care about stupid things like becoming successful in the business while he spends time with his friend, remembering the time when they met at the auditions - Kame had worn a white tank top two sizes too big for him (probably inherited from his older siblings) and dark blue Adidas sweat pants.
And so, just like that, at the age of 14, he questions his sexuality for the first time in his life. The answer is something he remains unsure of, but as he listens to Kame’s cheery and child-like laughter he finds himself being fine either way.
It’s only later that Kame turns into a beautiful swan from his ugly duckling form, putting all of the previously pretty boys into his shade as he walks with confidence and grace. There’s a cute little bounce in his steps as he moves by Jin’s side.
Then Jin realises he’s head over his heels and unable to see anyone else long enough to even give them a chance.
The hands of the clock don’t stop racing after that.
.03 The pocket watch regulates life contained in its owner’s destined person
It takes them long years to mature enough to admit their feelings. Even then Jin isn’t the one with the initiative - around midway through the filming of Gokusen 2 he and Kame are using the train to return to the Jimusho for their dance practice when the younger boy nervously pecks his temple, soft lips pressing against the sensitive skin.
Jin freezes on the spot, eyes wide and mind racing but unable to give him a comeback. They’re in public so making a big scene is out of the question.
Kame is anxiously leaning away from him. His arms are crossed and eyes hidden by his copper fringes. He looks beautiful as the strands of his hair gently caress his shoulders, still straight from the filming.
Jin watches the other passengers nervously, afraid of being recognized. He strips his jacket off and places it on his lap to cover his hand as it pulls Kame’s under it too, in a firm hold.
Kame’s eyes snap at him. Jin brushes the soft skin of his cold hands confidently and feels his heart beating so hard and loud he’s afraid everyone will hear.
They skip practice after that and hit Jin’s place, because Kame still lives at home with his parents and his apartment is closer anyway. They spend hours just kissing and cuddling and laughing into each other’s mouths. It feels thrilling and right.
Kame stays over. When he falls asleep in Jin’s arms, still fully clothed, Jin pulls out the golden pocket watch and turns the crown. He does it every night, already figuring out the positive correlation it has with the man in his arms.
It’s the best time of his life, he decides contently.
.04 Turning the hands of the pocket watch to the opposite direction will drain the life out of its owner’s destined person
Cannon ball fights teach Jin the darker side to his cherished object.
He’s never been good with his words, nor has he ever been able to physically harm the people important to him. Still, the sound of their fighting echoes from the walls within his apartment. Whoever claims that physical beating is more harmful than words is wrong, Jin feels as he listens to Kame’s cruel and icy screams that claw at his throat.
It isn’t always clear who starts the yelling - it’s become almost like a custom between them. Maybe it’s all because of the stress they have piling up on their shoulders, or maybe it’s guilt from their forbidden relationship and all the lies and secrets accompanying their lives.
It really doesn’t matter, though.
The major turn in their relationship is provided by one fight in particular - Kame’s debut. Kame’s, not KAT-TUN’s, because Kame’s enough of a traitor to obey Johnny’s whim and release a single with his friend, Yamapi from NEWS. He even has the balls to include his solo Kizuna, a theme from Gokusen.
“It’s written for me,” Jin roars furiously at Kame’s pale yet stubborn face. “I don’t want you to fucking release it with Yamapi! You’re supposed to release it with me, you can’t do this!”
“It’s my solo. I don’t have any other solos, Jin,” Kame calmly tries to reason with him. He looks more strained than usual, more stressed and tired. “And people have requested it a lot. Fans of Gokusen have requested it,” he tries to appease him. “It’s not like it’s going to change the song and what’s behind it.”
“It’s going to change everything!” Jin screams and pulls his hair in frustration. “You can’t do it, you can’t! You wrote it for me! That’s fucking betrayal, Kame! This is betrayal already but that’s the last straw! You can’t do it!”
“It’s always going to be for you,” Kame snaps coldly. “Jin, shut up already. You’re making such a big scene out of this.”
“THEN FUCKING GO!” he screams and shoves Kame violently, sending him flying back a few steps. Kame looks at him, eyes wide and alarmed as Jin pants from further away. His hands are trembling and he shakes his head.
“…Fine,” Kame finally croaks and stomps to the foyer to pull his shoes on. “Whatever you want. Fine. Be like that.”
Then he’s gone and Jin has no one to take the fury out on. No more Kame, no more love, no other best friend than Yamapi (who’s a betrayer too for stealing his band mate, but not even nearly on the same level as Kame) and nothing to look forward to anymore.
He furiously storms to his bedroom and pulls his nightstand’s drawer open. The contents of the drawer rattle as his hand goes through condoms, lubes, pens, and several jewellery pieces before he finally finds what he’s searching for.
He crashes on his bed and starts turning the crown to the forbidden direction. He turns it one lap after another and starts crying. He just wants to take the happiness away from Kame as well, just like he had done to him.
Kame starts changing after that. He becomes frail and even bonier than before. There are dark rings around his eyes and the only times his smile reaches his eyes are when the cameras are on and he’s faking it.
It’s as if the clock would suck the life out of him, and no matter how awful it is, Jin can’t help feeling morbid contentment as he observes the damage he inflicts on his previous lover.
.05 Misuse of the pocket watch is prohibited and should the owner treat fate wrongly, he is to be punished by the ultimatum
Eventually, after a six month trip to LA in order for Jin to “find himself” by staying apart enough from Kame, they click again. Feeling guilty for his childish behaviour Jin finds himself nervously winding the crown forward again. The familiar strong smiles and an arm occasionally wrapping itself around him enchant him over and over again, just like it always has.
Kame’s a physical person, he knows it. Still, what the pocket watch has proven to him is something greater - that no matter the shit they get piled up on them, they’re still bound together tightly, unable to fall out of love. Sometimes he wonders if he’s just a naïve child to think so - then Kame proves him wrong by going for his lips in an abandoned dressing room amidst uncountable racks of sparkly costumes and feather hats.
“I love you,” he croaks weakly at the younger man, threading his fingers through the short hair he has cut for his currently airing drama. “You can’t even imagine how much I love you.”
“Bakanishi,” Kame whispers back, pressing another kiss on his swollen lips. “I’ve always loved you back, you idiot.”
Their relationship is complexly on and off after that. It’s all about fighting and making up, setting shared ground and yanking free from the other’s strong hold. They never learn to discuss their problems like adults and both hot-headedly and stubbornly refuse to compromise when they really should.
Jin’s addicted to his mysterious pocket watch. On the ups of their relationship he keeps happily winding the little crown forwards, enjoying the most beautiful sight of Kame beside him in the morning, yearning for more of him. On the downs, however, he easily slips into broodingly meddling with the clock to hurt his companion. Eventually, he has figured, it always makes him come back to him. Not to mention he’s too afraid of Kame being happy without him and moving on that he just can’t find it in himself to let him enjoy life if he’s not the most important part of it.
Kame leaves him again one night. Their fight actually grows physical and the damage seems irreparable. They both spit fire and ice at each other and Jin feels his hip bruising from the collision against the kitchen table after Kame had harshly sent him flying.
“I fucking hate you, you coward,” Kame spits at him and goes to fetch his coat furiously. “I’m done with you, Jin. This time I’m really done,” he threatens as he throws it on with the most disappointed and angry look he has given Jin to this day. “I’m fucking stupid for sticking around for this long, just hoping you’d maybe finally one day grow up to be a fucking man and make this work!”
“Oh, so it’s my fault, huh!?” Jin roars back at him and grabs a coffee mug from the kitchen counter only to send it flying on the wall. Porcelain shards rattle on the floor. “What the fuck have I done wrong? Maybe if you’d fucking tell me what I’m doing wrong -”
“YOU JUST REALLY DON’T CARE!” Kame bellows back at him, eyes widened with the intensity of his overflowing emotions. “YOU DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF, YOU ASSHOLE! You could try to meet me halfway at least every now and then but NO! You could fucking treat me like you actually love me, not just act like some lovesick puppy who needs to be loved himself and wants a safe booty call!”
It hurts. Kame doesn’t understand - Kame hasn’t really been able to read his mind since the better days of their youth when their heads actually worked alike. Jin isn’t good at showing what he feels - he expects people around him to get it if he’s vaguely hinting at it and usually it works so.
It’s too bad Kame’s always been too insecure about himself to find comfort in mere hints.
“You’re the one who always leaves,” he notes with a cold and accusing voice. Kame flinches and opens his mouth, trying to come up with a comeback. He’s unable to, though.
“Maybe you shouldn’t make me leave then,” he finally says with a strained voice. Jin scoffs and stomps towards him, fury arising from his depths.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he threatens and pushes Kame against the front door. “IF YOU FUCKING HATE IT SO MUCH, HOW ABOUT YOU GO OUT AND STAY OUT, YOU PIECE OF UNGRATEFUL SHIT!”
“Let me fucking get my stuff -!”
“I’ll mail it to you,” Jin growls and opens the lock of his door, pushing Kame out to the staircase. “Have a fucking great night!” Kame stares at him with wide and furious eyes. He looks a bit scared too, standing shoeless with his shoulders high in defence. Jin assumes he can be scary when he snaps.
“We’re over,” it’s his turn to say as he shakes his head. “Farewell.”
It’s a good thing they don’t work together anymore. Kame starts storming down the staircase, not bothering with waiting for the elevator even though it’s eight floors down. Jin slams the door shut and hopes his neighbours won’t file complaints about him.
The porcelain shards still lie on his kitchen floor and the whole place is a mess. Jin snarls furiously and feels too angry to cry. He storms into his bedroom and pulls the pocket watch out of his nightstand drawer. He crashes on the bed, pulls on the crown and starts winding the hands backwards. He goes on for full five laps before he feels too furious to try to get his anger off with such a little thing. He’d rather find Kame’s old boxing gloves somewhere and hit the wall with them.
He pushes the crown back down snappily, lips pressed into a thin line to reflect his anger. However, this time the crown doesn’t snap neatly to its place and set the clock running again like it normally does. The crown disappears to the depths of the watch, leaving Jin only staring dumbly at the object in his hands.
“…What?” he mumbles and tries to bang the pocket watch to the nightstand to get the small and vital part of the watch out again. “What!? What!? No! No no no no no no no!” he wails in horror and realises that the part where the crown once stood isn’t anywhere to be found anymore - the surface of the clock is smooth gold once again, with no sign of damage. “NO!”
The next revelation drains all the remaining blood from his face and leaves him nauseous. The hands of the clock are running, yes - but not to their usual direction. They’re ticking backwards, slowly but certainly, second by second.
“No. God, no,” he whispers and swallows. There’s a lump in his throat and pure horror starts setting in at the pit of his stomach.
The final countdown towards the indefinite end starts.
-
.end of prelude
“The means justify the end.”
-
Three months later their paths cross again.
Jin steps in the elevator where Kame stands with his arms crossed, leaning against the steel shiny enough to reflect its surroundings like a mirror. He feels a strong need to back away and flee the situation like some silly dumped preadolescent, but his pride doesn’t let him reach quite that level of pathetic, even in the dire situation.
Like that they end up sharing the way-too-tiny elevator with just the two of them and some awkward music playing from the speakers. Jin scratches his neck and tries to avoid looking at the ashen reflections of the younger man standing somewhere behind him, looking like a ghost already.
Jin’s free hand slips in his pocket where he anxiously fondles the golden pocket watch. Kame’s reflection before him turns his face up to look at the ceiling while he curls a strand of his hair around his finger absently.
“The Smiths,” Kame finally mumbles, breaking the silence and Jin’s focus on the changing light indicating the floor the elevator passes by.
“Huh?”
“The music. It’s by The Smiths. A British band.”
“…Oh.”
After that Jin starts actually listening to the music and curses in his head. It’s not that the song is bad per se - it’s not really his usual taste (it could maybe somehow fit Kame’s taste which mainly includes everything but the music he enjoys the most) but he figures it isn’t so bad. The lyrics make him feel miserable, though, especially since Kame’s still standing probably less than a metre behind him.
“This song was on a soundtrack,” Kame continues his nervous chatter, his gaze falling to his restless feet. “500 Days of Summer, have you seen it? It’s American. Some romantic bullshit. It was good, though.”
As expected from Kame. He’s always been more into London and Paris while he’s all into Los Angeles, New York and San Francisco, but even with their differences, Kame’s always been exceptionally talented at creating links between their worlds and joining them comfortably together.
It’s then that Jin starts missing Kame like crazy again. The eyes of their reflections meet on the elevator’s door, both sorrowful and exhausted. They aren’t really all too good at taking care of themselves while apart and it’s always been easily visible to the outsiders.
He can feel his pocket watch ticking inside his closed fist. Kame’s skin looks clammy and now that his walls are somewhat down, Jin can detect the missing cheerful atmosphere around him. He also seems to have lost weight recently.
He feels too guilty to look any longer. He’s blocked it already for so long, telling himself he doesn’t care.
“Haven’t seen,” Jin admits with a pathetic croak and wonders why Kame’s suddenly attempting small talk like the last time they saw each other hadn’t been three months ago in a heated fight where they broke up - once again.
Kame falls silent after that. The elevator stops on the fifth floor and Kame pushes past him. KAT-TUN’s dressing room is on this particular floor, Jin remembers with stinging nostalgia.
They don’t exchange polite goodbyes. It’s probably his fault - Kame had made an attempt to talk to him, yet he hadn’t met him halfway. Just like he never did, according to the old but still loud and clear shouts in his head, still detailed with every crack and tremble of the younger man’s voice.
He hops on his car to drive to the concert venue where he’s supposed to be for some discussion about stage props and light work and tries to block the whole encounter out of his head. The dread and guilt are too bad, too overwhelming.
“Damn it,” he curses and slams the radio shut when it starts playing the same song as the one in the elevator. Talking about irony. The singer has a melancholic voice anyway, it’s depressing to listen to. Kame can be ridiculously depressing way too often than can be considered healthy.
He stops in the parking lot near the venue and fishes out the golden watch from its chain. It glimmers as the shine coming through the window reflects from its surface. He presses gently on the button that opens the lid and peers at the hands of the clock, still steadily ticking backwards towards the doomsday.
Each passing second Kame’s smile is a little further away, he knows, and he doesn’t know how much longer he has time to smile and prance around. He could be spending his time hitting it off with some lucky man for all life’s worth while he still could, but unfortunately he doesn’t know a thing. Kame probably thinks of it as a passing phase, just as always. Except that now it might actually be for good.
He buries his face in his hands and tries to remain calm. He can’t cry - there’s no way he’s going to walk into the meeting with swollen and bloodshot eyes. No fucking way.
And, because of that, he’s fifteen minutes late for the appointment. His manager scolds him and he tries to blame the traffic, because it’s an easy excuse to get away with. The pure hell Tokyo’s traffic can be at the most inconvenient timing is common knowledge in and out of the country.
Jin just wishes he wouldn’t have seen the hollow and distant look in Kame’s once so hopeful eyes.
-
“Umm, Jin, this is Nakamaru Yuichi,” his voicemail informs him when he checks it at home. “You haven’t answered or returned my calls in months, I’m getting worried. I understand you’re busy but it would be nice to hear back from you?” There’s a nervous laughter that makes Jin feel miserable. “And if this is because of Kame then just know that he’s miserable and misses you too. Just… try to confront each other and figure out whatever you’re fighting about, okay? It’s making you miserable. Please call me sometimes? Bye.”
There’s a beep and Jin sighs, rubbing his temples anxiously. …He does miss Yuichi. He misses how easily he can be fooled into paying for the fun times, how he can occasionally learn little bits of smart-sounding information from the university boy and Yuichi’s a chill guy anyway.
It’s just that he can’t. He can’t talk to someone who faces Kame every day. Who watches him drain away like water through parted fingers.
“Yo, Jin, it’s Junnosuke!” Junno’s voice chants from the speaker cheerily. Not an unusual caller either. “We haven’t met up in ages! Maru and I are worried~” Yeah, he’s figured that much, thank you. “Let’s go out for dinner sometime! Call us back! Byee!”
It’s stupid to miss even Junno. He misses all the KAT-TUN members, really, yet seems to have fallen out of contact with Koki and Ueda. He isn’t even sure if they’re on speaking terms or not. They could occasionally meet with Kame around while they were still together but, well, that was three months ago. Things change.
It’s not that he doesn’t have friends. He does, lots and lots of friends - he’s a social butterfly after all. But it does make him a bit apathetic to fall out of contact with the guys he’d spent most of his youth and onwards working with.
He turns the TV on just to get some noise in the house before he starts fixing himself instant noodles for late dinner. The pocket watch sits on the table next to him and he keeps staring at it miserably.
He’s unable to stop thinking. He can try it all he wants, but he’ll always find his desperate attempts failing. All he can see is Kame rolling on his sheets, body naked and smooth and smile vibrant and full of love and caring.
He wipes his eyes dry and breathes painfully against his palm for a while to keep himself from falling apart. He’s done it so many times before he isn’t sure if he can handle it for much longer.
-
That night, he dreams of being an old wise man. Even the skin of his hands is wrinkled and far from its youth. He’s looking at a pocket watch in front of him. It’s large and golden, hung in a shrine where it spins around. It’s hypnotising. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there.
There’s a maniacal giggle around him. Jin breathes heavily as child-like arms wrap themselves around him and a young boy circles him before he stops in front of him, looking up with his eyes wide in wonder. His smile can reach other universes, Jin is sure as he looks down, and the boy lunges his hands upwards to grasp the front of his shirt.
“I’ve done bad things,” Jin’s mouth speaks for him and he turns his head back to the ticking clock. The numbers are scrambled and the sound of the hands ticking is sharp.
“Yes, you have,” the boy answers and skips away. He’s got the hair of Kame’s nineteen-year-old self - actually, now that he looks better, it’s Kame from his Ryu times standing next to the clock, cocking his head with wide and empty eyes.
“Tick tock tick tock,” Kame chants at him, paling away. “TICK TOCK TICK TOCK! TICK TOCK TICK TOCK -!”
Jin screams, takes a step back and falls. He doesn’t hit the ground. Kame’s lying under him, eyes smeared with a scarlet substance.
“Caught you,” he murmurs quietly, fondness lacing his voice, and goes limp under him.
Then they fall again.
-
Sadly for him, their paths are always meant to collide. It’s the red thread of faith, he tells himself as he stares dumbly at Kame’s appalled face in front of him in the make-up section of his local supermarket where he’d planned to go for a quick grab of foundation.
Too bad Kame seems to have miraculously chosen the same store at the same time for the exact same purpose. Alright, not the exact same, he admits as he sees eyeliner and black nail polish in the man’s hands as well.
“Oh. Hi,” Kame nods at him politely. “Long time no see.”
It’s been two weeks since the elevator incident. On their recent scale it’s not exactly a long time, but he doesn’t really want to start a fight by starting yet another useless argument. He nods politely as an answer and grabs his usual product.
“Bye,” he mumbles and starts walking away. Kame flinches noticeably and doesn’t answer or come after him, even if he’s probably finished with his shopping. Jin gulps and manages to make his way good ten steps away from the man before turning around, guilt too overwhelming to ignore.
He’s not a bad guy. Not really.
“Are you by car?” he asks the man a bit louder and Kame’s head snaps at him. He looks confused at his sudden change of attitude and perhaps a bit hopeful too. He’s too tired to look genuinely happy, though.
“Yeah,” comes the short answer and Kame finally dares to make his way closer to him. “Why are you asking?”
“…I thought you could give me a ride or something,” Jin shrugs. “Then I wouldn’t have to walk.”
“Sure. Of course,” Kame nods. “I’ll give you a ride home. Your address is still the same, right?”
“Yeah,” Jin confirms and licks his lips nervously, a habit he had picked from no other than Kame himself. “Nothing’s really changed since then.”
They pay for their purchases at different checkouts to avoid getting recognized together. After that Kame ushers him to his familiar vehicle in which Jin slips all too comfortably. Kame hops on the driver’s seat and gives him a smile that for once seems at least a bit genuine.
“Buckle up,” he orders and Jin can’t help but chuckle awkwardly as he does as he’s told. Kame attaches his own seatbelt before starting the car. The build-in radio is playing some country-ish pop songs with a lot of piano melody. Kame’s always loved the sound of the piano, Jin knows, but he’s never learned to play it himself. Kame’s the sort of person who watches big Hollywood movies and opens his laptop to order himself the soundtracks just to relive everything by listening to the unfamiliar instruments clashing together. He’s the reason KAT-TUN’s music has taken a slightly more liberal stand to new instruments in their songs.
Their music sounds good, still. He’s secretly purchased all the versions of every single and album they’ve released since his departure.
“How’ve you been feeling?” Jin can’t help asking with a strained voice as he steals a glance at his ex on his left. Kame shrugs, turning the volume of the radio down a little.
“I’ve been fairing,” he answers. He’s careful not to worry once again, perfecting his little avoidant answer with a small smirk at his direction. “I’ve been a bit tired though, I guess. How are you? No one hears anything from you anymore.”
True that. It makes him feel guiltier now that he’s aware of Kame knowing about his little manoeuvre out of his old band mates’ lives.
“But you’ve been… healthy and everything?” Jin tries to prompt Kame further. The man glances at him with a wary look, the muscles of his body straining under his scrutinizing stare. It’s probably a bit intimidating.
“Yes? Why?” Kame mumbles at him as he steers the wheel to make a turn at the lights. “Have I seemed ill lately?”
“…A bit,” Jin admits. “You’re thinner… Are you eating properly?”
“I’m eating properly,” Kame snaps. He seems to regret it right away, though, judging by the sudden frown following his words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I guess I just didn’t expect you to care.”
“I do care,” Jin says before he can think about what’s coming out of his mouth. It’s a frequent problem he has and has always wanted to get rid of. He’s been unsuccessful, though.
Kame looks at him, a sad and yearning look in his eyes. Jin’s heart beats painfully.
It takes him awhile to realise that Kame’s car is safely parked on the side of the road just before his house.
“Oh,” he mumbles and bends over to grab his bag nervously. “Yeah. We’re here. Umm.”
There’s a soft touch at his back and he rises up slowly. Kame’s looking at him straight in the eyes, almost pleading with his gaze. It makes Jin’s heart die just a little more if it’s even possible.
“…Be happy, alright?” he croaks again as he opens the door and slips out. It hurts him a little too much to feel Kame’s touch slide away from his skin. He looks beaten as he withdraws his hand, eyes dark and gloomy again. “Promise me? Go and have fun now. I’m ordering you to.”
“You’re weird,” Kame smirks at him, trying to keep his strong-guy façade up. “You’ve always been weird, but this is really something, Bakanishi. You’re talking like you’d be terminally ill or something. You’re worrying me.”
The opposite, more likely. Not that he’d ever be able to tell. On top of admitting to his fatal mistake, he’d also have to sound like a nutcase babbling about a magical pocket watch about to take Kame’s breath away quite literally. “Nothing like that. You just worry too much about me.”
“Well, you were always good at making me worry,” Kame sighs. “…Please give us a call every now and then. We don’t hate you as much as you probably think.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jin chuckles miserably. He isn’t able to shake off the harsh looks on Koki’s and Ueda’s faces. Especially Koki’s. The guy has been overprotective of Kame ever since he first left for LA. “…Bye.”
“Bye,” Kame chimes and raises his hand for a brief wave. “See you around.”
After that, Kame drives off. Jin doesn’t bother to see his car disappear around the corner but enters the code to the door’s automatic lock and slumps inside.
The elevator is playing Kizuna of all the possible songs in the world. His stomach churns uncomfortably as he waits for his floor and makes his way to his apartment.
He sort of wishes he wouldn’t have approached Kame at the store.
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PART 2