Fic: Lingering Whisper
Title: Lingering Whisper
Pairing(s): Ohmiya
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Unfortunately
Wordcount: 5,797
Warnings: Character death, angst
Summary: A tragic accident shatters Nino's world, but why doesn't Nino feel alone?
Author's Notes: Un-beta'd. This is the most emotional piece I've ever written, I think, and the first real angst I've written in Arashi fandom. For
kanesu for being who you are, you know what I mean.
*
When Nino wakes up, it’s late morning. He reaches out blindly, but the spot next to him is empty. He grumbles and stretches before he opens his eyes, facing light entirely too bright.
“Close the damn curtains,” he moans and rolls his eyes.
The water is scalding and numbs his skin when he showers. His eyes are covered by his hair and he tilts his head backwards. He feels a waft of wind and he sees the shower curtain move as if someone is touching it.
“Leave it!” He scolds and he can visibly imagine the other biting his lip in an attempt to keep from pouting.
“Get out,” he says but laughs. “It always takes twice as long when you’re here! And close the door!”
He chuckles when the shower curtain flutters a bit again. “I’m serious, it’s drafting!”
The door slams childishly and he laughs.
When he gets out of the shower, he runs out and into the living room where his phone is ringing. He leaves the towel on his head when he answers.
“Yes?”
“Nino~”
“Aiba-chan.”
“Good morning~”
“It’s too early.”
“How are you?”
“Sho is standing next to you.”
“Yes,” Aiba admits. “But how are you?”
“I’m good,” Nino grins. He hears Aiba relaying to Sho and Sho responding.
“How is Satoshi-kun?”
“Same old,” Nino shrugs and smiles a bit. “You know how he is.”
*
It had been such a terrible accident. Nino clearly remembers what he had been wearing at the time, what he had been eating, what kind of weather it had been, what he had been watching on the television.
He remembers his body freezing. His hand on its way to his mouth with take away food stopping.
The television had shown a reportage of Ohno Satoshi being in a car crash. …not much hope… Ohno Satoshi...an ambulance… a lot of blood…hurry…Arashi…
And as soon as Nino had heard Arashi mentioned, his body had kick started. A violent shiver had run down his spine, the fork clattering to the floor, he had knocked his glass over. His body had trembled violently, and his hands had been shaking so much that he dropped his phone when he tried to hold it. He had simultaneously called his manager and Jun, using both phones available, and Jun had responded before it had rung even once.
“Hospital,” Jun had said. “Now. I’m on my way. Hurry.”
And as soon as Jun had decided his next action for him, Nino has a blank in his memory.
He has no memory at all of how he got to the hospital.
He remembers meeting Jun just inside the entrance and running down corridors. He remembers knocking into a nurse, but not apologizing or feeling bad about it. He had knocked into Jun when the younger man had stopped outside a room. Instinctively, Jun had reached out to steady him and Nino had felt like he would have fallen apart if not for that steadying hand.
And he remembers the waiting. Endless hours and Aiba’s horrified look when he had shown up. Jun talking softly with Ohno’s mother, her face tear stricken. Sho’s warm embrace keeping him together. Nurses and doctors coming and going, in and out of the room, not saying anything, except for offering sympathetic stares.
He knows that he didn’t cry then. He had been in such a state of shock, disbelief and denial that he knows hadn’t worn off until much later.
When the doctor had come out of the room, face downcast, apologetic, Nino’s heart had pounded so loudly that he only heard the rushing in his ears and his own breath coming out in gasps. Jun had punched the wall so hard he had injured his hand, his little finger fracturing. Sho had grabbed Aiba, who had just about lunged for the doctor.
Nino had reached out for the only person he knew felt as strongly as he did. Ohno’s mother had gripped him so hard he had marks afterwards, her fingers digging into his skin. He had cried then, even as Ohno’s mother hushed him, stroking his back and clinging as much to Nino as he was to her.
He knows that Ohno’s father and sister arrived shortly after that, but he doesn’t remember. He just hadn’t wanted to let go.
Saying goodbye hadn’t been the hardest part. It had been hard seeing Ohno, eyes closed and almost looking peaceful. Peaceful if not for the ugly gashes on the pretty skin, the marks and bruises marring Nino’s definition of perfection.
The hardest part had been leaving the room, knowing that this was the last time. It had been Ohno’s mother who had pushed him out, finally, gently, and closed the door behind them. And Nino had fallen into three pairs of arms.
*
The first month had been hard.
Coming home to find all Ohno’s stuff around the apartment, his very essence seeped into everything, had nearly been his undoing. It was everything from the sight of the toothbrush, the shoes, the clothes, the trinkets, the goddamn fishing rods. The figures and the sketchpad reserved for drawings of home, the ramen and the keys with the red and blue charm.
Eventually, he had only packed away a small fraction of Ohno’s things, knowing that the apartment would be even colder without it. Emptier.
And it was hard.
But seeking refuge in their shared bed had provided him with a safe haven. With his eyes closed, head covered with the blankets, he could image Ohno just being in the kitchen or out fishing. And he could still smell Ohno on the covers and on the pillows.
He had lost count of how many times Sho or Jun had dragged him out, forcing him to sleep or eat or go out, even for just a minute.
He knows he went to the funeral, but he only remembers seeing the entire world through a veil of grey. He had been wearing one of Ohno’s dress shirts. It had smelled like Ohno.
A month later, the smell had faded.
But it was also after a month that Nino had come home and realized that something was different. He wasn’t sure what, but something was. Everything was as he had left it earlier, everything was in place, but the place felt different.
In the end, after having looked through every room, he had written it off as his own hyperactive imagination and had concluded that his excessive gaming had finally taken its toll on his brain. But four days later, he was at a loss of what to think. He would swear that the apartment had started to liven up, get brighter.
He had started working again, a month after everything, and when he came home from work, the apartment was warm, as if someone had warmed it up for him while he was away. And it didn’t feel empty anymore. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he had cried when his pillows had smelled like Ohno, as if the other had been napping there just recently.
Nino had also been sure that he wasn’t forgetting where he put his things. As a naturally stingy person, he always knew where everything was, lest he should misplace anything and would have to buy something new. But even so, the stuff he was looking for always ended up being miraculously not quite where he was certain he had left it, be it his wallet, his keys, his cards... (He had sworn that he wouldn’t do magic again, but had taken it up once more when he had realized it reminded him pleasantly of Ohno.)
Nino had officially freaked when he one day had forgotten his phone on the kitchen counter, and when he had returned to get it a few minutes later, the phone had been lying innocently on the floor right in front of the door.
He had yelped when the phone had twitched, he had started shaking but had suddenly felt completely at peace. He felt warm as if someone had just raised the temperature in the room, just a bit. It had felt so comforting, so achingly familiar, that in the end, he knew he was being silly, but he had already been through so much, so what was the harm? He was sure his sanity had left a long time ago, anyway.
He had tentatively called out, “Satoshi?” into the empty apartment. And of course, he had been met by the roaring silence of his own stupid expectations. He had cursed himself up and down, hating that he had somehow hoped for the impossible. It was impossible. Ohno was not coming back. He was dead, and it was about time that Nino accepted it.
But Nino hadn’t wanted to question why he had felt so much lighter that day.
Aiba had questioned it though, and Nino hadn’t had any answers for him. ‘I think my apartment is haunted’ wasn’t a good answer. Especially not since it had made Nino strangely happy. So Nino had avoided and evaded and hurried home, despite everyone protesting and saying that he should get more air.
He had lingered by the front door for several minutes, debating furiously with himself. Finally, he had opened the door and when he had closed it and locked it, he called out softly, “I’m home.”
Silence had met him and he had fought the urge to bang his head against the wall. Seriously, what had he expected? So he had toed his shoes off and had been about to put them away when a movement had caught his eye. Did the door to his bedroom just close?
Nino had been positively unsettled. Was his apartment haunted? He sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case, since he’d have Aiba all over the place then, trying to get possessed. He really didn’t want to deal with that.
“Hello?” He had said and when he had once again been met by silence, he had walked over to open the door to the bedroom.
Only, the door was locked. From inside.
So Nino had done the natural. Started swearing and cursing whatever was happening, telling whatever it was that he really wasn’t the right person to mess with, that he knew Matsumoto Jun and then to piss off and leave him the fuck alone. Please.
And he has never told anyone how girlishly he had screamed when the door opened.
At first, he had thought he was imagining things, again, but when the faint tinkling sound of laughter had tickled his ear, he had been startled and had slapped a hand to the side of his head.
“Stop that, Oh-chan,” he had snapped so instinctively that he froze. The supposed laughter had faded, the silence thickening around him.
“Satoshi?” he had called once more and when he had received no reply, he knew he’d have to get a serious grip on the sad remnants of his sanity. But as he closed the door, the handle had suddenly refused to turn. Nino had narrowed his eyes. If whatever it was, was aiming for war, it would get war.
He had stomped from the door in protest, sitting down and glaring at it. As he watched, the door had opened and closed after a moment.
“I’m hallucinating,” Nino had said, lighting a cigarette. “Completely and utterly bonkers.”
He had dropped the cigarette out of shock when it suddenly felt like he was being embraced. He had shrieked and snatched the cigarette from the floor before it could leave marks or burn the floor. He stood up and glared.
“Okay, whoever or whatever you are, it’s not funny,” he had said. “Don’t..do whatever it is you’re doing. It’s hard, okay? Find someone else to haunt, I know a couple of good addresses. Just...not here, okay? It makes me feel like such a fool to think that it’s Satoshi.”
He hadn’t realized until then that he was crying. “And it hurts, alright? I get my hopes up and I know I shouldn’t, but I do, and it still hurts. That’s not fair. It’s not.”
He had dried his eyes on his sleeve, of the tears that wouldn’t stop. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
The feeling of being embraced had returned, strongly, and it had been so well-known that he had broken down completely.
“I know you’re here,” Nino had gasped through his tears, “I know, because I feel you here. Why won’t you tell me?”
The empty air didn’t carry a reply, but he had felt as if the grip on him had tightened, if only for a bit. It felt like Ohno, like how he knew he had fit into Ohno’s arms, felt like he belonged there. The air had been alive, somehow, and not just filled with the memories of what he had once had and what they had shared.
“I just want you to stay,” Nino had said and had for some reason suddenly felt angry. “Why did you leave me?! You should’ve stayed!”
He had shaken his head when he hadn’t received a reply. Of course he hadn’t.
After that, he had started paying closer attention to where he left his things and where he found them. In particular, Nino paid close attention to where he put his cigarettes. If he left the pack out in the open, he would later find it in the trashcan. And he quit trying to hide them, since he never knew if he was being watched.
On day two, he had noticed that the only things that moved were his stuff. All Ohno’s stuff was left untouched. And it wasn’t that Nino kept the things away, no, he purposely put one of Ohno’s sketchbooks on the table and he even opened it. Nothing happened. He hadn’t known if he had expected a new drawing to appear or what.
While he had been slightly freaked at having a ghost in his apartment, he was getting more and more certain that it was Ohno. He couldn’t tell exactly why he thought it, except that it felt familiar and comfortable, just like Ohno had always made him feel.
And one day, he had left the door to the bedroom open and when he had flopped down on the bed, he felt the warmth he had come to associate with the ghost or whatever it was.
“Oh-chan, close the door,” he had said from where he was buried in his pillows.
The door closed and Nino had smiled.
His mood swing hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others.
“Don’t worry,” he had reassured Sho. “I’m not on drugs. I just think my apartment is haunted.”
Aiba had giggled while Sho had looked like that statement negated him taking drugs.
“Is it a friendly ghost?” Aiba had asked.
Nino had rolled his eyes. “Nice enough, but annoying as fuck.”
Sho had smiled a bit - perhaps not wholly reassured, but Nino’s smile had returned, and that was worth it.
At this point, Nino had wholly accepted the presence in his apartment. It felt good, in a twisted way, to come home and know that there’d be if not someone, then something waiting for him. Had probably been waiting for him all day. Okay, that last part was wishful thinking, but it was a nice thought.
And one night, he had lain awake at night, staring into the darkness. He had heard more than felt the covers rustle as he had grown used to. He knew that there was something there, but he trusted it not to harm him. He had shared the apartment with the ghost for more than a month. If it had wanted to kill him, it would have by now.
“What’s it like?” He had whispered when he felt a presence settle by the foot of the bed. “Being dead?”
He would swear he had felt he air shift.
“It’s not so hard anymore,” he had confided when it felt like the air had settled. “It’s not what I had imagined my life to be like, but I guess it’s okay. You were supposed to be here. You promised me you’d stay with me.”
And it had hit Nino like a ton of bricks. “Is that why you’re here? Because you promised me?”
The air had shifted again and he had heard the covers rustle for a second time.
“I’m sorry,” he had apologized in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to bind you...”
The air had shifted once more and he felt the warmth around him. And he had really needed to know then; assumptions weren’t enough anymore. “If it’s you, do something so I know. Because I need you.”
When he had felt a soft pressure on his forehead, as if fingers were dancing over his face, his fingers had clenched in the sheets and he had cried silently in relief.
“Satoshi,” he had sobbed, “Don’t leave me.”
For the rest of the night, it had felt like being held close.
Nino had woken up the next morning feeling calm and well-rested, despite his eyes feeling puffy from all his crying. The peace was something he had thought he’d lost forever, something that Ohno had taken with him, but apparently, Ohno’s ghost had brought it back with him.
The tranquillity had lasted for two whole blessed months, when Aiba, Sho and Jun had decided that it was about time that they visited him for some gaming. Never mind the fact that Nino repeatedly had reassured them that he was completely fine and that he wasn’t going to off himself anytime soon.
Nino hadn’t thought it was odd - he had taken to speaking aloud and trying to decipher the various responses Ohno was able to give him. He had laughed a lot more than he had done for a long time and it felt good. It felt almost as good as it did when Ohno had been there in physical form. Nothing would ever come close to how it felt with Ohno always being in arm’s reach, but this was a pretty good alternative.
So Nino had been talking, like usual, when there had been a knock on the door.
“Nino? Who are you talking to?” Sho had asked through the door. “Do you have company?”
Nino had been close to panic before he had taken a deep breath and opened the door.
“Talking?” He had asked, raising an eyebrow. “I wasn’t talking.”
The rest of Arashi had shuffled inside and sat down, looking gravely at Nino.
“Nino,” Jun had insisted, “you were talking to someone. We all heard your voice.”
“You’re hearing things,” Nino had said, innocently. “Obviously I wasn’t. Do you see anyone here? No? Well.”
Aiba had looked so worried then that Nino had almost felt bad. Almost.
Sho had leaned forward, looking at him in earnest. “Nino, we’re worried about you. You never go out...”
“I’ve been to work, haven’t I?”
“Your sudden mood swing,” Jun had cut in. “You went from super depressed to something suspiciously close to calm and now you seem almost...happy.”
Nino had felt anger flare. “I’m not happy,” he said flatly.
“We know,” Aiba had said in an imploring voice. “We know it’s hard, so why won’t you talk to us? We miss him, too.”
Nino had felt his anger deflate and had known that he’d have to come clean, even if they’d think him insane after this. They worried about him, he had known that, but he hadn’t realized that they were so deeply concerned. He should have expected that.
“I know what you’ll think, but please hear me out,” he had started. “Do you remember when I said that I thought the apartment was haunted, and you all told me I was seeing things?”
The other three had nodded.
“Well,” he had said, “that’s scarily accurate.”
Jun had crossed his arms.
“Truth is,” Nino had trailed off. He had looked at the three people he trusted more than anyone. Now he was trusting them not to laugh at him. “The truth is...that Satoshi is here.”
Silence had met that statement.
Sho looked uncertain. “Nino, you do know that’s impossible, right?”
Nino had huffed. “Of course I know. But he is.”
“We all saw his body,” Jun had stated firmly. “We all went to his funeral. He can’t be here, Nino.”
“His body isn’t here,” Nino had said, then added, “I hope not. That’d be nasty.”
Aiba had suddenly looked contemplating. “Nino, is he the ghost you were talking about?”
Nino had felt so thankful he could have kissed Aiba. “Yes.”
“You weren’t joking?”
“Seriously, no, I wouldn’t joke about that. If I wanted to torture myself, yes, but I don’t. He really is here,” Nino had said, hoping that the other two would believe him.
Jun had looked every inch the sceptic they knew he was. “Prove it.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Nino had admitted. “I’ll do my best.”
“Satoshi,” he had called. “Please let them know you’re here.”
Silence.
Sho and Jun had exchanged glances. Nino had caught the look.
“No, I’m serious!” he had defended, “He really is here!”
“Nino,” Jun had looked sympathetic, but stern. “You need help.”
And then the bedroom door had opened and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Aiba shivered. When Sho and Jun looked around the room in bewilderment, Nino had breathed a sigh of relief. The air felt like when they had all been teasing Ohno, and Ohno had sat down and pouted.
“I don’t believe this,” Sho had muttered.
Aiba had looked close to tears. “That’s Oh-chan,” he had said, awed. “It feels like him.”
“Thank you,” Nino had muttered when he felt an invisible hand settle on his shoulder.
Jun still hadn’t looked entirely convinced and he had stared at Nino, inquiringly.
“Jun,” Nino had said, solemnly. “I thought I had gone mad. The entire place suddenly changed. Can’t you feel it?”
And it was true. The apartment had brightened, lifting the oppressive depression and sadness that had settled in the days after Ohno’s death.
“He helps me,” Nino had tried to explain, “he makes me want to get up in the morning.”
Jun had looked as if everything was just a bit too farfetched. “This is weird.”
And that had been that. Well, not exactly. All three of them had insisted staying for a long time, trying to communicate with Ohno, but Ohno seemed more inclined to only communicate and gesture to Nino. Not that Nino was sorry about that, no, he rather enjoyed it.
The reveal of his secret had also led to question if they should they tell Ohno’s mother?
The temperature in the room had turned icy in an instant, and Nino had glared at Jun for even suggesting it. Clearly, Ohno wasn’t happy with letting his mother know that he was still wandering around and Nino could understand that. Ohno’s mother had, surprisingly, taken everything so well and had pulled herself together even faster than anyone had hoped.
When the woman had clearly moved on, as much as a mother who has said goodbye to their child can, wouldn’t it be depressing for her to know that Ohno’s soul hadn’t left? It would only worry her.
Nino had decided that he wouldn’t tell, at least not yet. If Ohno one day would try and tell him that it was okay to let her know, then he would, but not a moment earlier.
Things had settled into a routine after that. Months later, Nino had been startled to realize that he was almost happy. Work was okay, his friends were fine, and he was in a loving relationship. And while that could be up for discussion, along with Nino’s sanity, the only thing Nino could wish for was that Ohno had never died. But he could live with this. He was just happy that Ohno hadn’t left him completely.
He even had a sex life. It didn’t happen often, though, but Nino treasured those moments.
The first time had been one night when Nino had been mostly asleep, but hadn’t been able to rest completely. The door had opened slightly, and he had felt Ohno enter the bedroom and hover near the bed.
Shifting until he was lying on his back, he had sighed, already feeling more at peace. He had smiled into the darkness of his room and smiled even wider when he felt Ohno settle by the foot of the bed and an invisible hand come to rest on his right leg.
When the hand gradually had moved up, Nino had chuckled; Ohno clearly hadn’t forgotten all the ticklish spots along his thigh. But when the ghostly touch had got dangerously close to his crotch, his breath had hitched. The unseen fingers graced his boxers and he had squirmed, but he hadn’t wanted the touch to disappear. For so long, he hadn’t been touched by anyone than himself, his entire body ached for the touch of someone else, for the touch of the man he loved so completely.
Ohno’s nimble fingers had cupped him gently through the material of his boxers, and Nino had shivered so violently that his feet jerked and his teeth clattered. When those fingers had become more insistent, Nino’s eyes had fluttered, his heart beating faster.
“Don’t stop,” he had murmured, and Ohno hadn’t. All night. Nino had quickly shed himself of his boxers and had lain down and just felt everything. Ohno’s fingers, though he couldn’t see them, had been so gentle and so firm and they still just knew perfectly how to treat him that he had trembled, his body reacting out of pure recognition.
Dexterous hands had handled him just right, bringing him to the edge of sweet oblivion before teasing him back again, and when one hand had come to rest over Nino’s heart, it had been all he could do not to cry.
When Ohno finally had let him find completion, he had sobbed with relief, feeling spent beyond anything he’d ever experienced before.
“I love you,” he had whispered and he loved that it didn’t hurt saying, and feeling it, anymore.
The day came that marked Ohno’s death. Ohno had been dead for a year, and while Nino had been convinced that he’d be fine with it, he couldn’t even get out of bed that day. He had been gripped by despair stronger than the desperation following the immediate days of Ohno’s death.
And why hadn’t he been able to get out?
Because Ohno hadn’t been there, Nino hadn’t been able to find him. He had called for him, but Ohno never revealed his presence. Losing him once had been hard enough, Nino didn’t think he’d ever be able to find his sanity if Ohno left him again.
Aiba and Sho had done their best to coax him out of bed, but they hadn’t been able to.
When the sun set and coloured the sky a hundred shades of orange, red and pink, Nino felt that he had no more tears in his body, but he had been wrong. Suddenly, Ohno’s presence had been so strong next him that he hadn’t had any choice but to cry.
“Don’t,” he had gasped, “I don’t want you to leave.”
Ohno’s silence had been thicker than ever.
Several times after that, Ohno had disappeared for shorter periods of time. Nino had wondered if Ohno had been away from the apartment while Nino had been at work. And he had also wondered where Ohno went. The first few times had freaked him out, frightened him to the core, but Ohno had dutifully returned, restoring the balance in Nino’s life.
*
“How is Satoshi-kun?”
“Same old,” Nino shrugs and smiles a bit. “You know how he is.”
*
It’s still like that. Sometimes Ohno is there, sometimes he isn’t.
“Oh-chan,” Nino calls as he throws the phone to the couch. “Satoshi, are you here?”
The ghost of a warm touch lingers by his elbow.
“I’m getting home early today,” he announces and grins when Ohno’s fingers tickle his sides. “Will you be here?”
The air shifts slightly and Nino nods, but he feels…odd, for some reason.
“Are you okay?” He asks, even though he knows it’s a stupid question, knows that Ohno never answers clearly.
For some reason, he gets the feeling that Ohno is avoiding him. Even as ghost, Ohno is as bad at lying as he was when he was alive, and Nino would roll his eyes if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s genuinely worried that Ohno is hiding something from him. Because of Ohno’s complete inability to lie, even a bit, Ohno had perfected the art of omitting certain truths.
Nino worries that now is one of those times.
His suspicion is confirmed that night.
Nino is warm and comfortable and wandering the fine line between being awake and the land of dreams, and Ohno has been with him all day, not leaving his side even for a moment. Whenever Nino had closed his eyes, the feeling of tiny kisses had rained down his cheeks and he hadn’t felt so doted on since Ohno had been alive.
Nino stretches and smiles when he feels the covers rustle slightly next to him. Those ghostly fingers run down his arms and make him shiver; the faint touch of a kiss pressed to the pulse point in his neck. It’s all making him all warm and gooey. Nothing erotic in the gestures, but he just feels so loved.
With Ohno’s invisible arm wrapped around his waist, Nino drifts off.
Hours later, that feels like mere moments, Nino awakens to the absence of Ohno. He squints and bolts upright in the bed, watching the open window and the moving curtains.
“Satoshi?” He calls, his heart beating so fast it feels like it’s going to stop any moment of overload.
“It’s time…”
“Satoshi, don’t, please, time for what?” He is desperate; not again, not again, oh god, please…
“I promise…just wait…”
Nino cries silent tears that night when the last touch of Ohno’s fingers lingers on his face, still. No loud sobbing or heartbreaking cries, just silent tears streaming down Nino’s cheeks.
And the next morning Nino gets up, he doesn’t cry and he doesn’t feel the oppressive absence weighing him down. He goes to work and he tells the others that Ohno isn’t there anymore, but that they don’t need to worry.
Because Ohno has promised him. And Nino will wait.
*
Sometime in the future…
*
“Dad,” a girl calls and runs across the grass in the park. Nino is sitting on a bench, smiling a little as the girl is picked up by her father.
“Can you believe,” the person next to him says, a grin playing on his lips, “that Jun-kun is going to be a father next month?”
Nino turns to look at Sho. “Doesn’t surprise me, I always knew he was going to get married first, too.”
Sho nods. “True, that. Well, not counting you guys, of course.”
Nino snickers. “We weren’t married.”
“You might as well have been,” Sho says, “you still stand as the most married couple to come out of the jimusho.”
Nino chuckles fondly and leans back.
“Good times,” he says and it doesn’t even hurt that much. It’s mostly the fond memories ruling now.
Beside him, Sho falls into silence and just looks at Nino. Nino knows that Sho thinks he’s some kind of living miracle. Sho hasn’t ever said it, but Nino knows that no one expected him to ever get over Ohno’s death. Not that he has ever got completely over Ohno, but he’s at the point when thinking about Ohno makes him smile.
Sho makes a sound of exasperation. “Where did that blasted dog go now?”
Nino laughs. While Aiba is out of the country on some job, Sho is babysitting Aiba’s dog, Puni-chan the Second.
The stuffed dog, Puni-chan, that had followed Aiba during their first years as Arashi, had been replaced by the living one two years ago, and Puni-chan the Second is just like Aiba. Hyper, makes trouble and can be such a general menace that he makes everyone want to tear their hair out, but he manages to be so charming at the same time that no one, Sho least of all, manages to stay mad.
“I see him,” Nino says and stops Sho from getting up. Sho had had his knee operated two weeks ago and it still isn't up for excessive dog hunting. “I’ll get him.”
Sho smiles gratefully and watches as Nino makes for the dog.
“Puni-chan,” Nino calls, and then twice more when the dog doesn’t react. Why would he, anyway, since he’s lying on his back and having his belly stroked by a child?
“Puni-chan,” Nino says with exasperated fondness when the dog eyes him and wags its tail. Nino shakes his head and kneels down next to the boy petting Puni-chan.
“He’s sweet, right?” Nino says to the boy, but the boy is kind of shy and isn’t looking at Nino at all. “Do you like dogs?”
The boy nods curtly, still looking pointedly down on his hands, now mechanically stroking the warm fur.
Nino realizes that he’s making the boy uncomfortable and he sighs before getting up. He turns when a woman’s voice reaches his ears. The boy startles and rushes over to the woman, who comes to a stop in front of Nino.
“Has he been causing you trouble?”
“Not at all,” Nino says, “if anything, I was bothering him.”
The woman laughs when the boy hides behind her legs. “He likes dogs, so when he spotted your dog he made a run for it.”
“It’s not mine, sadly, I’m just dog-sitting him.”
The woman nods and bends slightly down to place a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Ah, we should get back. Say goodbye, Satoshi.”
Nino freezes. “Excuse me?”
The woman smiles and nudges the boy forward. “Satoshi, your manners.”
Nino stares as the boy straightens up by his mother’s urging, and Nino sees the boy’s eyes for the first time. He gasps.
Because even if the face is slightly different, the corners of the eyes still tilt slightly upwards, and the eyes are so achingly familiar that Nino can do nothing else than smile so widely it hurts.
“Bye,” the boy says and smiles a bit in response to Nino’s own.
“Goodbye,” Nino responds, still shaken and smiling and still so goddamn happy. “Would you say goodbye to Puni-chan, too?”
Satoshi scratches Puni-chan’s ears and mutters a soft “bye.”
“I’m Ninomiya,” Nino says and bows slightly.
“Bye, Nino,” the boy says and winks before running off.
*
/The End
AN: So, did everyone survive?
A huge thanks to Suvi for putting up with my own angsting about this and thank you for being the wonderful person you are.
This has been in the making for quite some time now, because it was really hard to write. In all the years I've been writing fanfiction (Goodness, has it been 8 years already?) I've only killed off a beloved character once before. It hurts ;;__;; Since I started writing for Arashi, I haven't really written angst, though prior to my immersion in Arashi, I almost didn't write anything but that. I kind of missed it.
That said, summer is now upon me, yay! Lots of time to fangirl and hopefully write, depending on how warm it gets!
I hope you all will have a wonderful summer and take care of yourselves :)
Pairing(s): Ohmiya
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Unfortunately
Wordcount: 5,797
Warnings: Character death, angst
Summary: A tragic accident shatters Nino's world, but why doesn't Nino feel alone?
Author's Notes: Un-beta'd. This is the most emotional piece I've ever written, I think, and the first real angst I've written in Arashi fandom. For
kanesu for being who you are, you know what I mean.
*
When Nino wakes up, it’s late morning. He reaches out blindly, but the spot next to him is empty. He grumbles and stretches before he opens his eyes, facing light entirely too bright.
“Close the damn curtains,” he moans and rolls his eyes.
The water is scalding and numbs his skin when he showers. His eyes are covered by his hair and he tilts his head backwards. He feels a waft of wind and he sees the shower curtain move as if someone is touching it.
“Leave it!” He scolds and he can visibly imagine the other biting his lip in an attempt to keep from pouting.
“Get out,” he says but laughs. “It always takes twice as long when you’re here! And close the door!”
He chuckles when the shower curtain flutters a bit again. “I’m serious, it’s drafting!”
The door slams childishly and he laughs.
When he gets out of the shower, he runs out and into the living room where his phone is ringing. He leaves the towel on his head when he answers.
“Yes?”
“Nino~”
“Aiba-chan.”
“Good morning~”
“It’s too early.”
“How are you?”
“Sho is standing next to you.”
“Yes,” Aiba admits. “But how are you?”
“I’m good,” Nino grins. He hears Aiba relaying to Sho and Sho responding.
“How is Satoshi-kun?”
“Same old,” Nino shrugs and smiles a bit. “You know how he is.”
*
It had been such a terrible accident. Nino clearly remembers what he had been wearing at the time, what he had been eating, what kind of weather it had been, what he had been watching on the television.
He remembers his body freezing. His hand on its way to his mouth with take away food stopping.
The television had shown a reportage of Ohno Satoshi being in a car crash. …not much hope… Ohno Satoshi...an ambulance… a lot of blood…hurry…Arashi…
And as soon as Nino had heard Arashi mentioned, his body had kick started. A violent shiver had run down his spine, the fork clattering to the floor, he had knocked his glass over. His body had trembled violently, and his hands had been shaking so much that he dropped his phone when he tried to hold it. He had simultaneously called his manager and Jun, using both phones available, and Jun had responded before it had rung even once.
“Hospital,” Jun had said. “Now. I’m on my way. Hurry.”
And as soon as Jun had decided his next action for him, Nino has a blank in his memory.
He has no memory at all of how he got to the hospital.
He remembers meeting Jun just inside the entrance and running down corridors. He remembers knocking into a nurse, but not apologizing or feeling bad about it. He had knocked into Jun when the younger man had stopped outside a room. Instinctively, Jun had reached out to steady him and Nino had felt like he would have fallen apart if not for that steadying hand.
And he remembers the waiting. Endless hours and Aiba’s horrified look when he had shown up. Jun talking softly with Ohno’s mother, her face tear stricken. Sho’s warm embrace keeping him together. Nurses and doctors coming and going, in and out of the room, not saying anything, except for offering sympathetic stares.
He knows that he didn’t cry then. He had been in such a state of shock, disbelief and denial that he knows hadn’t worn off until much later.
When the doctor had come out of the room, face downcast, apologetic, Nino’s heart had pounded so loudly that he only heard the rushing in his ears and his own breath coming out in gasps. Jun had punched the wall so hard he had injured his hand, his little finger fracturing. Sho had grabbed Aiba, who had just about lunged for the doctor.
Nino had reached out for the only person he knew felt as strongly as he did. Ohno’s mother had gripped him so hard he had marks afterwards, her fingers digging into his skin. He had cried then, even as Ohno’s mother hushed him, stroking his back and clinging as much to Nino as he was to her.
He knows that Ohno’s father and sister arrived shortly after that, but he doesn’t remember. He just hadn’t wanted to let go.
Saying goodbye hadn’t been the hardest part. It had been hard seeing Ohno, eyes closed and almost looking peaceful. Peaceful if not for the ugly gashes on the pretty skin, the marks and bruises marring Nino’s definition of perfection.
The hardest part had been leaving the room, knowing that this was the last time. It had been Ohno’s mother who had pushed him out, finally, gently, and closed the door behind them. And Nino had fallen into three pairs of arms.
*
The first month had been hard.
Coming home to find all Ohno’s stuff around the apartment, his very essence seeped into everything, had nearly been his undoing. It was everything from the sight of the toothbrush, the shoes, the clothes, the trinkets, the goddamn fishing rods. The figures and the sketchpad reserved for drawings of home, the ramen and the keys with the red and blue charm.
Eventually, he had only packed away a small fraction of Ohno’s things, knowing that the apartment would be even colder without it. Emptier.
And it was hard.
But seeking refuge in their shared bed had provided him with a safe haven. With his eyes closed, head covered with the blankets, he could image Ohno just being in the kitchen or out fishing. And he could still smell Ohno on the covers and on the pillows.
He had lost count of how many times Sho or Jun had dragged him out, forcing him to sleep or eat or go out, even for just a minute.
He knows he went to the funeral, but he only remembers seeing the entire world through a veil of grey. He had been wearing one of Ohno’s dress shirts. It had smelled like Ohno.
A month later, the smell had faded.
But it was also after a month that Nino had come home and realized that something was different. He wasn’t sure what, but something was. Everything was as he had left it earlier, everything was in place, but the place felt different.
In the end, after having looked through every room, he had written it off as his own hyperactive imagination and had concluded that his excessive gaming had finally taken its toll on his brain. But four days later, he was at a loss of what to think. He would swear that the apartment had started to liven up, get brighter.
He had started working again, a month after everything, and when he came home from work, the apartment was warm, as if someone had warmed it up for him while he was away. And it didn’t feel empty anymore. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he had cried when his pillows had smelled like Ohno, as if the other had been napping there just recently.
Nino had also been sure that he wasn’t forgetting where he put his things. As a naturally stingy person, he always knew where everything was, lest he should misplace anything and would have to buy something new. But even so, the stuff he was looking for always ended up being miraculously not quite where he was certain he had left it, be it his wallet, his keys, his cards... (He had sworn that he wouldn’t do magic again, but had taken it up once more when he had realized it reminded him pleasantly of Ohno.)
Nino had officially freaked when he one day had forgotten his phone on the kitchen counter, and when he had returned to get it a few minutes later, the phone had been lying innocently on the floor right in front of the door.
He had yelped when the phone had twitched, he had started shaking but had suddenly felt completely at peace. He felt warm as if someone had just raised the temperature in the room, just a bit. It had felt so comforting, so achingly familiar, that in the end, he knew he was being silly, but he had already been through so much, so what was the harm? He was sure his sanity had left a long time ago, anyway.
He had tentatively called out, “Satoshi?” into the empty apartment. And of course, he had been met by the roaring silence of his own stupid expectations. He had cursed himself up and down, hating that he had somehow hoped for the impossible. It was impossible. Ohno was not coming back. He was dead, and it was about time that Nino accepted it.
But Nino hadn’t wanted to question why he had felt so much lighter that day.
Aiba had questioned it though, and Nino hadn’t had any answers for him. ‘I think my apartment is haunted’ wasn’t a good answer. Especially not since it had made Nino strangely happy. So Nino had avoided and evaded and hurried home, despite everyone protesting and saying that he should get more air.
He had lingered by the front door for several minutes, debating furiously with himself. Finally, he had opened the door and when he had closed it and locked it, he called out softly, “I’m home.”
Silence had met him and he had fought the urge to bang his head against the wall. Seriously, what had he expected? So he had toed his shoes off and had been about to put them away when a movement had caught his eye. Did the door to his bedroom just close?
Nino had been positively unsettled. Was his apartment haunted? He sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case, since he’d have Aiba all over the place then, trying to get possessed. He really didn’t want to deal with that.
“Hello?” He had said and when he had once again been met by silence, he had walked over to open the door to the bedroom.
Only, the door was locked. From inside.
So Nino had done the natural. Started swearing and cursing whatever was happening, telling whatever it was that he really wasn’t the right person to mess with, that he knew Matsumoto Jun and then to piss off and leave him the fuck alone. Please.
And he has never told anyone how girlishly he had screamed when the door opened.
At first, he had thought he was imagining things, again, but when the faint tinkling sound of laughter had tickled his ear, he had been startled and had slapped a hand to the side of his head.
“Stop that, Oh-chan,” he had snapped so instinctively that he froze. The supposed laughter had faded, the silence thickening around him.
“Satoshi?” he had called once more and when he had received no reply, he knew he’d have to get a serious grip on the sad remnants of his sanity. But as he closed the door, the handle had suddenly refused to turn. Nino had narrowed his eyes. If whatever it was, was aiming for war, it would get war.
He had stomped from the door in protest, sitting down and glaring at it. As he watched, the door had opened and closed after a moment.
“I’m hallucinating,” Nino had said, lighting a cigarette. “Completely and utterly bonkers.”
He had dropped the cigarette out of shock when it suddenly felt like he was being embraced. He had shrieked and snatched the cigarette from the floor before it could leave marks or burn the floor. He stood up and glared.
“Okay, whoever or whatever you are, it’s not funny,” he had said. “Don’t..do whatever it is you’re doing. It’s hard, okay? Find someone else to haunt, I know a couple of good addresses. Just...not here, okay? It makes me feel like such a fool to think that it’s Satoshi.”
He hadn’t realized until then that he was crying. “And it hurts, alright? I get my hopes up and I know I shouldn’t, but I do, and it still hurts. That’s not fair. It’s not.”
He had dried his eyes on his sleeve, of the tears that wouldn’t stop. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
The feeling of being embraced had returned, strongly, and it had been so well-known that he had broken down completely.
“I know you’re here,” Nino had gasped through his tears, “I know, because I feel you here. Why won’t you tell me?”
The empty air didn’t carry a reply, but he had felt as if the grip on him had tightened, if only for a bit. It felt like Ohno, like how he knew he had fit into Ohno’s arms, felt like he belonged there. The air had been alive, somehow, and not just filled with the memories of what he had once had and what they had shared.
“I just want you to stay,” Nino had said and had for some reason suddenly felt angry. “Why did you leave me?! You should’ve stayed!”
He had shaken his head when he hadn’t received a reply. Of course he hadn’t.
After that, he had started paying closer attention to where he left his things and where he found them. In particular, Nino paid close attention to where he put his cigarettes. If he left the pack out in the open, he would later find it in the trashcan. And he quit trying to hide them, since he never knew if he was being watched.
On day two, he had noticed that the only things that moved were his stuff. All Ohno’s stuff was left untouched. And it wasn’t that Nino kept the things away, no, he purposely put one of Ohno’s sketchbooks on the table and he even opened it. Nothing happened. He hadn’t known if he had expected a new drawing to appear or what.
While he had been slightly freaked at having a ghost in his apartment, he was getting more and more certain that it was Ohno. He couldn’t tell exactly why he thought it, except that it felt familiar and comfortable, just like Ohno had always made him feel.
And one day, he had left the door to the bedroom open and when he had flopped down on the bed, he felt the warmth he had come to associate with the ghost or whatever it was.
“Oh-chan, close the door,” he had said from where he was buried in his pillows.
The door closed and Nino had smiled.
His mood swing hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others.
“Don’t worry,” he had reassured Sho. “I’m not on drugs. I just think my apartment is haunted.”
Aiba had giggled while Sho had looked like that statement negated him taking drugs.
“Is it a friendly ghost?” Aiba had asked.
Nino had rolled his eyes. “Nice enough, but annoying as fuck.”
Sho had smiled a bit - perhaps not wholly reassured, but Nino’s smile had returned, and that was worth it.
At this point, Nino had wholly accepted the presence in his apartment. It felt good, in a twisted way, to come home and know that there’d be if not someone, then something waiting for him. Had probably been waiting for him all day. Okay, that last part was wishful thinking, but it was a nice thought.
And one night, he had lain awake at night, staring into the darkness. He had heard more than felt the covers rustle as he had grown used to. He knew that there was something there, but he trusted it not to harm him. He had shared the apartment with the ghost for more than a month. If it had wanted to kill him, it would have by now.
“What’s it like?” He had whispered when he felt a presence settle by the foot of the bed. “Being dead?”
He would swear he had felt he air shift.
“It’s not so hard anymore,” he had confided when it felt like the air had settled. “It’s not what I had imagined my life to be like, but I guess it’s okay. You were supposed to be here. You promised me you’d stay with me.”
And it had hit Nino like a ton of bricks. “Is that why you’re here? Because you promised me?”
The air had shifted again and he had heard the covers rustle for a second time.
“I’m sorry,” he had apologized in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to bind you...”
The air had shifted once more and he felt the warmth around him. And he had really needed to know then; assumptions weren’t enough anymore. “If it’s you, do something so I know. Because I need you.”
When he had felt a soft pressure on his forehead, as if fingers were dancing over his face, his fingers had clenched in the sheets and he had cried silently in relief.
“Satoshi,” he had sobbed, “Don’t leave me.”
For the rest of the night, it had felt like being held close.
Nino had woken up the next morning feeling calm and well-rested, despite his eyes feeling puffy from all his crying. The peace was something he had thought he’d lost forever, something that Ohno had taken with him, but apparently, Ohno’s ghost had brought it back with him.
The tranquillity had lasted for two whole blessed months, when Aiba, Sho and Jun had decided that it was about time that they visited him for some gaming. Never mind the fact that Nino repeatedly had reassured them that he was completely fine and that he wasn’t going to off himself anytime soon.
Nino hadn’t thought it was odd - he had taken to speaking aloud and trying to decipher the various responses Ohno was able to give him. He had laughed a lot more than he had done for a long time and it felt good. It felt almost as good as it did when Ohno had been there in physical form. Nothing would ever come close to how it felt with Ohno always being in arm’s reach, but this was a pretty good alternative.
So Nino had been talking, like usual, when there had been a knock on the door.
“Nino? Who are you talking to?” Sho had asked through the door. “Do you have company?”
Nino had been close to panic before he had taken a deep breath and opened the door.
“Talking?” He had asked, raising an eyebrow. “I wasn’t talking.”
The rest of Arashi had shuffled inside and sat down, looking gravely at Nino.
“Nino,” Jun had insisted, “you were talking to someone. We all heard your voice.”
“You’re hearing things,” Nino had said, innocently. “Obviously I wasn’t. Do you see anyone here? No? Well.”
Aiba had looked so worried then that Nino had almost felt bad. Almost.
Sho had leaned forward, looking at him in earnest. “Nino, we’re worried about you. You never go out...”
“I’ve been to work, haven’t I?”
“Your sudden mood swing,” Jun had cut in. “You went from super depressed to something suspiciously close to calm and now you seem almost...happy.”
Nino had felt anger flare. “I’m not happy,” he said flatly.
“We know,” Aiba had said in an imploring voice. “We know it’s hard, so why won’t you talk to us? We miss him, too.”
Nino had felt his anger deflate and had known that he’d have to come clean, even if they’d think him insane after this. They worried about him, he had known that, but he hadn’t realized that they were so deeply concerned. He should have expected that.
“I know what you’ll think, but please hear me out,” he had started. “Do you remember when I said that I thought the apartment was haunted, and you all told me I was seeing things?”
The other three had nodded.
“Well,” he had said, “that’s scarily accurate.”
Jun had crossed his arms.
“Truth is,” Nino had trailed off. He had looked at the three people he trusted more than anyone. Now he was trusting them not to laugh at him. “The truth is...that Satoshi is here.”
Silence had met that statement.
Sho looked uncertain. “Nino, you do know that’s impossible, right?”
Nino had huffed. “Of course I know. But he is.”
“We all saw his body,” Jun had stated firmly. “We all went to his funeral. He can’t be here, Nino.”
“His body isn’t here,” Nino had said, then added, “I hope not. That’d be nasty.”
Aiba had suddenly looked contemplating. “Nino, is he the ghost you were talking about?”
Nino had felt so thankful he could have kissed Aiba. “Yes.”
“You weren’t joking?”
“Seriously, no, I wouldn’t joke about that. If I wanted to torture myself, yes, but I don’t. He really is here,” Nino had said, hoping that the other two would believe him.
Jun had looked every inch the sceptic they knew he was. “Prove it.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Nino had admitted. “I’ll do my best.”
“Satoshi,” he had called. “Please let them know you’re here.”
Silence.
Sho and Jun had exchanged glances. Nino had caught the look.
“No, I’m serious!” he had defended, “He really is here!”
“Nino,” Jun had looked sympathetic, but stern. “You need help.”
And then the bedroom door had opened and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Aiba shivered. When Sho and Jun looked around the room in bewilderment, Nino had breathed a sigh of relief. The air felt like when they had all been teasing Ohno, and Ohno had sat down and pouted.
“I don’t believe this,” Sho had muttered.
Aiba had looked close to tears. “That’s Oh-chan,” he had said, awed. “It feels like him.”
“Thank you,” Nino had muttered when he felt an invisible hand settle on his shoulder.
Jun still hadn’t looked entirely convinced and he had stared at Nino, inquiringly.
“Jun,” Nino had said, solemnly. “I thought I had gone mad. The entire place suddenly changed. Can’t you feel it?”
And it was true. The apartment had brightened, lifting the oppressive depression and sadness that had settled in the days after Ohno’s death.
“He helps me,” Nino had tried to explain, “he makes me want to get up in the morning.”
Jun had looked as if everything was just a bit too farfetched. “This is weird.”
And that had been that. Well, not exactly. All three of them had insisted staying for a long time, trying to communicate with Ohno, but Ohno seemed more inclined to only communicate and gesture to Nino. Not that Nino was sorry about that, no, he rather enjoyed it.
The reveal of his secret had also led to question if they should they tell Ohno’s mother?
The temperature in the room had turned icy in an instant, and Nino had glared at Jun for even suggesting it. Clearly, Ohno wasn’t happy with letting his mother know that he was still wandering around and Nino could understand that. Ohno’s mother had, surprisingly, taken everything so well and had pulled herself together even faster than anyone had hoped.
When the woman had clearly moved on, as much as a mother who has said goodbye to their child can, wouldn’t it be depressing for her to know that Ohno’s soul hadn’t left? It would only worry her.
Nino had decided that he wouldn’t tell, at least not yet. If Ohno one day would try and tell him that it was okay to let her know, then he would, but not a moment earlier.
Things had settled into a routine after that. Months later, Nino had been startled to realize that he was almost happy. Work was okay, his friends were fine, and he was in a loving relationship. And while that could be up for discussion, along with Nino’s sanity, the only thing Nino could wish for was that Ohno had never died. But he could live with this. He was just happy that Ohno hadn’t left him completely.
He even had a sex life. It didn’t happen often, though, but Nino treasured those moments.
The first time had been one night when Nino had been mostly asleep, but hadn’t been able to rest completely. The door had opened slightly, and he had felt Ohno enter the bedroom and hover near the bed.
Shifting until he was lying on his back, he had sighed, already feeling more at peace. He had smiled into the darkness of his room and smiled even wider when he felt Ohno settle by the foot of the bed and an invisible hand come to rest on his right leg.
When the hand gradually had moved up, Nino had chuckled; Ohno clearly hadn’t forgotten all the ticklish spots along his thigh. But when the ghostly touch had got dangerously close to his crotch, his breath had hitched. The unseen fingers graced his boxers and he had squirmed, but he hadn’t wanted the touch to disappear. For so long, he hadn’t been touched by anyone than himself, his entire body ached for the touch of someone else, for the touch of the man he loved so completely.
Ohno’s nimble fingers had cupped him gently through the material of his boxers, and Nino had shivered so violently that his feet jerked and his teeth clattered. When those fingers had become more insistent, Nino’s eyes had fluttered, his heart beating faster.
“Don’t stop,” he had murmured, and Ohno hadn’t. All night. Nino had quickly shed himself of his boxers and had lain down and just felt everything. Ohno’s fingers, though he couldn’t see them, had been so gentle and so firm and they still just knew perfectly how to treat him that he had trembled, his body reacting out of pure recognition.
Dexterous hands had handled him just right, bringing him to the edge of sweet oblivion before teasing him back again, and when one hand had come to rest over Nino’s heart, it had been all he could do not to cry.
When Ohno finally had let him find completion, he had sobbed with relief, feeling spent beyond anything he’d ever experienced before.
“I love you,” he had whispered and he loved that it didn’t hurt saying, and feeling it, anymore.
The day came that marked Ohno’s death. Ohno had been dead for a year, and while Nino had been convinced that he’d be fine with it, he couldn’t even get out of bed that day. He had been gripped by despair stronger than the desperation following the immediate days of Ohno’s death.
And why hadn’t he been able to get out?
Because Ohno hadn’t been there, Nino hadn’t been able to find him. He had called for him, but Ohno never revealed his presence. Losing him once had been hard enough, Nino didn’t think he’d ever be able to find his sanity if Ohno left him again.
Aiba and Sho had done their best to coax him out of bed, but they hadn’t been able to.
When the sun set and coloured the sky a hundred shades of orange, red and pink, Nino felt that he had no more tears in his body, but he had been wrong. Suddenly, Ohno’s presence had been so strong next him that he hadn’t had any choice but to cry.
“Don’t,” he had gasped, “I don’t want you to leave.”
Ohno’s silence had been thicker than ever.
Several times after that, Ohno had disappeared for shorter periods of time. Nino had wondered if Ohno had been away from the apartment while Nino had been at work. And he had also wondered where Ohno went. The first few times had freaked him out, frightened him to the core, but Ohno had dutifully returned, restoring the balance in Nino’s life.
*
“How is Satoshi-kun?”
“Same old,” Nino shrugs and smiles a bit. “You know how he is.”
*
It’s still like that. Sometimes Ohno is there, sometimes he isn’t.
“Oh-chan,” Nino calls as he throws the phone to the couch. “Satoshi, are you here?”
The ghost of a warm touch lingers by his elbow.
“I’m getting home early today,” he announces and grins when Ohno’s fingers tickle his sides. “Will you be here?”
The air shifts slightly and Nino nods, but he feels…odd, for some reason.
“Are you okay?” He asks, even though he knows it’s a stupid question, knows that Ohno never answers clearly.
For some reason, he gets the feeling that Ohno is avoiding him. Even as ghost, Ohno is as bad at lying as he was when he was alive, and Nino would roll his eyes if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s genuinely worried that Ohno is hiding something from him. Because of Ohno’s complete inability to lie, even a bit, Ohno had perfected the art of omitting certain truths.
Nino worries that now is one of those times.
His suspicion is confirmed that night.
Nino is warm and comfortable and wandering the fine line between being awake and the land of dreams, and Ohno has been with him all day, not leaving his side even for a moment. Whenever Nino had closed his eyes, the feeling of tiny kisses had rained down his cheeks and he hadn’t felt so doted on since Ohno had been alive.
Nino stretches and smiles when he feels the covers rustle slightly next to him. Those ghostly fingers run down his arms and make him shiver; the faint touch of a kiss pressed to the pulse point in his neck. It’s all making him all warm and gooey. Nothing erotic in the gestures, but he just feels so loved.
With Ohno’s invisible arm wrapped around his waist, Nino drifts off.
Hours later, that feels like mere moments, Nino awakens to the absence of Ohno. He squints and bolts upright in the bed, watching the open window and the moving curtains.
“Satoshi?” He calls, his heart beating so fast it feels like it’s going to stop any moment of overload.
“It’s time…”
“Satoshi, don’t, please, time for what?” He is desperate; not again, not again, oh god, please…
“I promise…just wait…”
Nino cries silent tears that night when the last touch of Ohno’s fingers lingers on his face, still. No loud sobbing or heartbreaking cries, just silent tears streaming down Nino’s cheeks.
And the next morning Nino gets up, he doesn’t cry and he doesn’t feel the oppressive absence weighing him down. He goes to work and he tells the others that Ohno isn’t there anymore, but that they don’t need to worry.
Because Ohno has promised him. And Nino will wait.
*
Sometime in the future…
*
“Dad,” a girl calls and runs across the grass in the park. Nino is sitting on a bench, smiling a little as the girl is picked up by her father.
“Can you believe,” the person next to him says, a grin playing on his lips, “that Jun-kun is going to be a father next month?”
Nino turns to look at Sho. “Doesn’t surprise me, I always knew he was going to get married first, too.”
Sho nods. “True, that. Well, not counting you guys, of course.”
Nino snickers. “We weren’t married.”
“You might as well have been,” Sho says, “you still stand as the most married couple to come out of the jimusho.”
Nino chuckles fondly and leans back.
“Good times,” he says and it doesn’t even hurt that much. It’s mostly the fond memories ruling now.
Beside him, Sho falls into silence and just looks at Nino. Nino knows that Sho thinks he’s some kind of living miracle. Sho hasn’t ever said it, but Nino knows that no one expected him to ever get over Ohno’s death. Not that he has ever got completely over Ohno, but he’s at the point when thinking about Ohno makes him smile.
Sho makes a sound of exasperation. “Where did that blasted dog go now?”
Nino laughs. While Aiba is out of the country on some job, Sho is babysitting Aiba’s dog, Puni-chan the Second.
The stuffed dog, Puni-chan, that had followed Aiba during their first years as Arashi, had been replaced by the living one two years ago, and Puni-chan the Second is just like Aiba. Hyper, makes trouble and can be such a general menace that he makes everyone want to tear their hair out, but he manages to be so charming at the same time that no one, Sho least of all, manages to stay mad.
“I see him,” Nino says and stops Sho from getting up. Sho had had his knee operated two weeks ago and it still isn't up for excessive dog hunting. “I’ll get him.”
Sho smiles gratefully and watches as Nino makes for the dog.
“Puni-chan,” Nino calls, and then twice more when the dog doesn’t react. Why would he, anyway, since he’s lying on his back and having his belly stroked by a child?
“Puni-chan,” Nino says with exasperated fondness when the dog eyes him and wags its tail. Nino shakes his head and kneels down next to the boy petting Puni-chan.
“He’s sweet, right?” Nino says to the boy, but the boy is kind of shy and isn’t looking at Nino at all. “Do you like dogs?”
The boy nods curtly, still looking pointedly down on his hands, now mechanically stroking the warm fur.
Nino realizes that he’s making the boy uncomfortable and he sighs before getting up. He turns when a woman’s voice reaches his ears. The boy startles and rushes over to the woman, who comes to a stop in front of Nino.
“Has he been causing you trouble?”
“Not at all,” Nino says, “if anything, I was bothering him.”
The woman laughs when the boy hides behind her legs. “He likes dogs, so when he spotted your dog he made a run for it.”
“It’s not mine, sadly, I’m just dog-sitting him.”
The woman nods and bends slightly down to place a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Ah, we should get back. Say goodbye, Satoshi.”
Nino freezes. “Excuse me?”
The woman smiles and nudges the boy forward. “Satoshi, your manners.”
Nino stares as the boy straightens up by his mother’s urging, and Nino sees the boy’s eyes for the first time. He gasps.
Because even if the face is slightly different, the corners of the eyes still tilt slightly upwards, and the eyes are so achingly familiar that Nino can do nothing else than smile so widely it hurts.
“Bye,” the boy says and smiles a bit in response to Nino’s own.
“Goodbye,” Nino responds, still shaken and smiling and still so goddamn happy. “Would you say goodbye to Puni-chan, too?”
Satoshi scratches Puni-chan’s ears and mutters a soft “bye.”
“I’m Ninomiya,” Nino says and bows slightly.
“Bye, Nino,” the boy says and winks before running off.
*
/The End
AN: So, did everyone survive?
A huge thanks to Suvi for putting up with my own angsting about this and thank you for being the wonderful person you are.
This has been in the making for quite some time now, because it was really hard to write. In all the years I've been writing fanfiction (Goodness, has it been 8 years already?) I've only killed off a beloved character once before. It hurts ;;__;; Since I started writing for Arashi, I haven't really written angst, though prior to my immersion in Arashi, I almost didn't write anything but that. I kind of missed it.
That said, summer is now upon me, yay! Lots of time to fangirl and hopefully write, depending on how warm it gets!
I hope you all will have a wonderful summer and take care of yourselves :)