Unconventional
Unconventional
→ Haruna/Yuki
→ 2,413 words
→ Summary: Word Vomit. I'll think of something, eventually.
Haruna isn’t exactly known as a very social person. AKB is her playground, but she might as well be the kid playing in the sandbox all the time, rejecting company and familiarity. Mariko and Miichan are brave enough souls for entering into her corner but that’s who they are, spontaneity and fun - fireworks exploding in the sky, it is expected of them to gloriously enter into someone’s life and have some effect on it. But Haruna knows what she wants is not fireworks at night, not sparks and colors and overflowing beauty. What she wants is the warmth of a flame in a winter day, the calm and serenity in the hazy cold.
The problem is the search is difficult. However plentiful people have come into her sandbox, none of them seem to be up to her liking. The playground expands but her sandbox is still only for her, no matter how selfish that may sound.
She receives compliments and flattery from research students, team members and non-team members alike. And she thinks of it as nothing but irony. They tell her she’s pretty, that she’s cute, that she’s funny, and everyone loves her but she never feel like it, Haruna is jilted and withered like a plant.
The door creaks open and for the first time she pays attention.
“Oh, Kashiwagi-chan.” Kojima declares, because beauty deserves to have an introduction every single time.
“Ahh, Kojima-san, you’re here early.” Yuki sets her bag down and looks over her reflection on the mirror instantly.
“I suppose you say that because you’re always here first.”
“Most of the time,” She pauses “I like to see this place before the chaos,”
Haruna takes her eyes off of her the moment Haachan arrives and takes Yuki’s attention away. They greet each other with an embrace and chat about things until the whole dressing room is crowded with people.
“Nyannyan, is something wrong?” Takamina approaches her with a worried look on her face, her eyebrows shooting up cautiously, and if Haruna hadn’t looked down to see what pants she’s wearing then she could have saved her a few more of her sincerity.
“Those pants, seriously. The only time I want to see those again is when you plan to burn them, so please don’t even hesitate to call me, I will gladly help you rid of ‘em.”
“What? Tomochin finds them interesting,”
“Interesting isn’t always good,”
But Takamina doesn’t hear any of it after running off to talk to some staff. Kojima thinks her statement might as well reflect on herself too.
*
Haruna is possibly the most withdrawn about the changes. Sometimes, even more scared than her mind lets her on. There are nights that fear rattles her ribs in the darkness and she gets up and sets herself a nice warm glass of milk to make it go away. On bad nights, a liquor from Paris she got from Atsuko because “you’re old enough, you could use it,” and she just looks out her window thinking about things - her career, her taxes, her nail polish until another day goes and another day comes by. Sometimes she cries herself to sleep, but it just makes her feel worse.
Mariko doesn’t ask, she never asks. No one ever asks. But Yuki never seem to have gotten the memo. “Kojima-san, you’re lagging behind the rehearsal today. Is something wrong?”
“You sound like Takamina,”
“I hope that’s not a bad thing,”
“It is,” Haruna pauses and laughs, “don’t tell me you’re going to start telling silly stories and expect people to laugh at them,”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Yukirin looks at Haruna with concern.
“Only a fool wouldn’t notice how many wrongs there are in the rights of the world.”
Haruna resolves that fool is herself.
*
They all practice hard.
Everyone dances until their own feet tangle and betray them and they fall down. They sing their hearts out and it doesn’t matter if they miss a beat or get a note wrong, just as long as they put their heart in it. Haruna wonders if she’s done enough. She hugs her knees at the back of the crowd huddled close to the small figure talking in front, and as she looks on and sees the fire, intensity and vigor in her eyes and heart, Haruna knows she will never be able to do enough.
Takamina finishes her speech with a clap and dismisses everyone with a cheer to do well tomorrow. Yuki stays behind with Haruna and waits for her to be the one to voice out her thoughts first.
“Say Kashiwagi-chan, how do you feel about eating out tonight?”
“Sure, I feel highly interested on knowing things about you too, Kojima-san. Should we get our bags?”
“Things like?” Haruna stands up and dusts and straightens her clothes.
“I don’t know either. You just… interest me.”
“The question is what doesn’t interest you, Kashiwagi-chan.”
They pass through the busy halls and into the dressing room to change into their casual clothing. Yukirin responds to her remark with only a smile and they both don’t know what it means. The moments they have shared are only small and fleeting. They used to only exchange polite smiles and words, and until now Haruna can’t seem to be on point with what Yuki is trying to say. So she just smiles too, bitterly (to herself) and walks side by side with the girl who has always been a mystery to her.
Over the bowls of hot ramen, Kojima realizes Yukirin is as princess-like as most of them say. She likes it when other people guide her or go out of their way to help her. Yuki liked it when Haruna picked up her phone and handed it to her. Yuki liked it when Haruna offered on opening and holding up the umbrella for both of them.
She pours her a drink and places it next to her bowl. Yuki says a quiet ‘thank you’ and remains silent again, waiting for her food to be warm enough that it won’t burn her tongue the second she puts it in her mouth.
“You’re not all that special, but I like you.” Haruna puts it out there bluntly because it’s the only way she knows how and because she might lose the words again. She shoves a mouthful of noodles in her mouth afterwards and it burns her tongue and the roof of her mouth, but it’s better than having Yuki ask more questions. She doesn’t. It’s somehow comforting, much like the silence that hung between them. Haruna decides Yuki is her flame in a winter day - warmth, calm and serenity.
“Do you hate AKB?”
The question surprises Haruna, but this is Yuki after all, she’s not called Black for nothing.
“I call it my playground,” She laughs half-heartedly. It’s the still truth. Yukirin gives her a pointed knowing look and she knows she has to answer correctly, “Yea, I hate it.”
“Me too,”
“I hate it to the core of my bones, but I can never imagine myself out of it. I hate the system, I hate having to survive, but I can’t see myself doing anything else but be part of the 48. I don’t hate the people but sometimes I wish I do, just so it’ll be easier.”
Kashiwagi complains a lot about AKB too, probably to the point of hatred. Yuki doesn’t like how it changes the people in it and she hates herself for not being capable of correcting that. But Haruna’s point of view of it is different, because no matter how many times Yuki heard the word ‘hate’ from her answer, her voice didn’t mirror any of those feelings. Haruna is numb, Yuki muses inwardly, speaking only to her mind and she watches the tall pale female’s eyes and wonders how many times and how many more will those be brimming with tears.
Her ramen is cold and stale when she decides to eat again, not that she’s still in the mood to eat anyway. Yukirin just observes, tracing lines through the air and draws Haruna’s face, her movements, her slight smile until it’s time for a goodbye.
In the dark of the night, Yuki stares at the blackness of her room and holds her heart as it is about to burst. Yuki realizes albeit belatedly that fear is beautiful, pain is beautiful, destruction is beautiful; Haruna can attest to that.
Haruna never misses a day on seeing Yuki forecast the weather. It’s not always accurate but rain or shine, Haruna always brings her umbrella, one that’s big enough for her and Yuki. She likes the thought of having Yuki smile and thank her for opening it and holding it up for the two of them, but what Haruna likes the most is the proximity - how their elbows touch and how Yukirin is so close, she feels like she sees what the cameras doesn’t see.
She leaves her house early and a little too early maybe because she’s the first one to arrive in the waiting room. Haruna leans her head on the table and her thoughts drift over the noise that penetrates the walls of the room and how Yukirin will probably hate it. Until soon enough her brain picks up on the things Yuki might and might not like and lists them all, and then…. Haruna recalls clearly how she met Kashiwagi, just hanging by a tiny thread of a memory, but still beautiful memory at hand.
They have a mutual friend: silence. Yuki entered Haruna’s sandbox because of its silence and perhaps the beauty and the innocence of the back facing towards her. Curiosity as a pull and a push, a hello and a hello back and then comes quickly silence, but of course as their friend. The quiet is uneventful and boring and often the young Yuki wondered what could one have masked their thoughts in such almost lethargic atmosphere of nothingness. Haruna could have ruled the world with her mind and speak nothing of it. Haruna remembered Yuki as the kid who looked like they just grew out of puberty, limbs too long and knees that barely support them as she walked and she walked towards her.
They had a mutual friend and now they have two more: dreams and nightmares.
Yuki bends a bit to be on the same eye-level as her. But she’s up-side-down. “You like beating me in getting here the earliest, huh? This is the second time, Kojima-san.” Yukirin fishes her phone out of her bag and stands upright, shaking the tiny device in her hand, “Two-shot? I’ll mention it in my blog. Do you want it to be captioned as evil or sly?”
“Kashiwagi-chan, I want to be blogged about honestly. I am not sly or evil. You are,” Haruna stands up and Yukirin swiftly moves to her side, placing her mobile phone in front of them, counting up to three and captures a photo with a press of a button.
“Update your blog too!” Kashiwagi tells her without looking, punching the keys on her phone to type a coherent post along with the attached picture.
Haruna doesn’t. She just takes a million pictures of Yukirin mostly, with and without her permission and in truth, Haruna likes the candid shots better. She stores them in a separate folder in her phone, openly pleased because Yuki didn’t seem to have noticed the extra photos Haruna captured without her knowledge.
“Kojima-san,”
Haruna blinks and the next thing she hears is a shutter sound coming from Yukirin’s phone. “Wow, don’t tell me…”
“I want to put up a solo picture of you. Don’t worry I’ll blog about you honestly,” She says teasingly and begins to type again.
“Tell me if you posted it already, I want to see it,”
“No, it’s embarrassing. Read it later,”
She nods but checks Yuki’s blog on her phone browser anyway, opening the new entry she just posted entitled ‘Good morning,’ that says:
But instead of that greeting I got a ‘blog about me honestly’ from Kojima-san.
Recently, we talked about things that made me think ‘Ah, Kojiharu is the person I want to protect,’ ’Kojiharu is amazing,’ ‘I want to be with Kojiharu forever’ ♥
Then again, I only call her Kojima-san ^^
I took pictures but I thought these are the pictures I want to treasure forever! Let me be selfish just this once!!
Most importantly, I am lucky to have Kojima-san in my life.
So you!
Yes, you!
You’re an unlucky soul if you don’t know the kind, beautiful and loving Haruna we all love. Kyaa! This is too honest, Kojima-san. How embarrassing >///<
♥ ♥ ♥
Yukirin.
Haruna smiles and directs her gaze towards Yuki. “You should compliment me in person,”
“What?”
“Your blog, I read it,”
“Oh…” She trails off and distracts herself with meddling with the contents of her bag, not wanting to make eye contact. “You told me to blog honestly and I did.”
“Yukirin,”
Kashiwagi turns to her and their eyes meet. Haruna sees anticipation and joy pleasantly masked in her expression. “I-I can call you that, right?”
Yuki swallows loudly and nods frantically like there would never be enough emphasis on how she agrees and allows Haruna to.
*
Before going out to the stage, just by the mouth of the opening to the backstage, Haruna stands beside Yuki and holds her hand, interlacing their long skinny fingers. No one will see. No one will have to see. She knows the song playing is about to end and matching the ending notes and the cheer of the crowd, she whispers to her ear: “Thank you for being my playmate,”
A bunch of research students rush towards their direction and it’s their turn to perform. Yuki drags her towards the stage, not releasing her hand from her grasp.
“Thank you for being my playmate,” Yuki corrects and releases her hand only because she has to. But if they were both given the choice, they could’ve stayed that way -hands linked, eyes only on each other- and nothing else has to matter.
→ Haruna/Yuki
→ 2,413 words
→ Summary: Word Vomit. I'll think of something, eventually.
Haruna isn’t exactly known as a very social person. AKB is her playground, but she might as well be the kid playing in the sandbox all the time, rejecting company and familiarity. Mariko and Miichan are brave enough souls for entering into her corner but that’s who they are, spontaneity and fun - fireworks exploding in the sky, it is expected of them to gloriously enter into someone’s life and have some effect on it. But Haruna knows what she wants is not fireworks at night, not sparks and colors and overflowing beauty. What she wants is the warmth of a flame in a winter day, the calm and serenity in the hazy cold.
The problem is the search is difficult. However plentiful people have come into her sandbox, none of them seem to be up to her liking. The playground expands but her sandbox is still only for her, no matter how selfish that may sound.
She receives compliments and flattery from research students, team members and non-team members alike. And she thinks of it as nothing but irony. They tell her she’s pretty, that she’s cute, that she’s funny, and everyone loves her but she never feel like it, Haruna is jilted and withered like a plant.
The door creaks open and for the first time she pays attention.
“Oh, Kashiwagi-chan.” Kojima declares, because beauty deserves to have an introduction every single time.
“Ahh, Kojima-san, you’re here early.” Yuki sets her bag down and looks over her reflection on the mirror instantly.
“I suppose you say that because you’re always here first.”
“Most of the time,” She pauses “I like to see this place before the chaos,”
Haruna takes her eyes off of her the moment Haachan arrives and takes Yuki’s attention away. They greet each other with an embrace and chat about things until the whole dressing room is crowded with people.
“Nyannyan, is something wrong?” Takamina approaches her with a worried look on her face, her eyebrows shooting up cautiously, and if Haruna hadn’t looked down to see what pants she’s wearing then she could have saved her a few more of her sincerity.
“Those pants, seriously. The only time I want to see those again is when you plan to burn them, so please don’t even hesitate to call me, I will gladly help you rid of ‘em.”
“What? Tomochin finds them interesting,”
“Interesting isn’t always good,”
But Takamina doesn’t hear any of it after running off to talk to some staff. Kojima thinks her statement might as well reflect on herself too.
*
Haruna is possibly the most withdrawn about the changes. Sometimes, even more scared than her mind lets her on. There are nights that fear rattles her ribs in the darkness and she gets up and sets herself a nice warm glass of milk to make it go away. On bad nights, a liquor from Paris she got from Atsuko because “you’re old enough, you could use it,” and she just looks out her window thinking about things - her career, her taxes, her nail polish until another day goes and another day comes by. Sometimes she cries herself to sleep, but it just makes her feel worse.
Mariko doesn’t ask, she never asks. No one ever asks. But Yuki never seem to have gotten the memo. “Kojima-san, you’re lagging behind the rehearsal today. Is something wrong?”
“You sound like Takamina,”
“I hope that’s not a bad thing,”
“It is,” Haruna pauses and laughs, “don’t tell me you’re going to start telling silly stories and expect people to laugh at them,”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Yukirin looks at Haruna with concern.
“Only a fool wouldn’t notice how many wrongs there are in the rights of the world.”
Haruna resolves that fool is herself.
*
They all practice hard.
Everyone dances until their own feet tangle and betray them and they fall down. They sing their hearts out and it doesn’t matter if they miss a beat or get a note wrong, just as long as they put their heart in it. Haruna wonders if she’s done enough. She hugs her knees at the back of the crowd huddled close to the small figure talking in front, and as she looks on and sees the fire, intensity and vigor in her eyes and heart, Haruna knows she will never be able to do enough.
Takamina finishes her speech with a clap and dismisses everyone with a cheer to do well tomorrow. Yuki stays behind with Haruna and waits for her to be the one to voice out her thoughts first.
“Say Kashiwagi-chan, how do you feel about eating out tonight?”
“Sure, I feel highly interested on knowing things about you too, Kojima-san. Should we get our bags?”
“Things like?” Haruna stands up and dusts and straightens her clothes.
“I don’t know either. You just… interest me.”
“The question is what doesn’t interest you, Kashiwagi-chan.”
They pass through the busy halls and into the dressing room to change into their casual clothing. Yukirin responds to her remark with only a smile and they both don’t know what it means. The moments they have shared are only small and fleeting. They used to only exchange polite smiles and words, and until now Haruna can’t seem to be on point with what Yuki is trying to say. So she just smiles too, bitterly (to herself) and walks side by side with the girl who has always been a mystery to her.
Over the bowls of hot ramen, Kojima realizes Yukirin is as princess-like as most of them say. She likes it when other people guide her or go out of their way to help her. Yuki liked it when Haruna picked up her phone and handed it to her. Yuki liked it when Haruna offered on opening and holding up the umbrella for both of them.
She pours her a drink and places it next to her bowl. Yuki says a quiet ‘thank you’ and remains silent again, waiting for her food to be warm enough that it won’t burn her tongue the second she puts it in her mouth.
“You’re not all that special, but I like you.” Haruna puts it out there bluntly because it’s the only way she knows how and because she might lose the words again. She shoves a mouthful of noodles in her mouth afterwards and it burns her tongue and the roof of her mouth, but it’s better than having Yuki ask more questions. She doesn’t. It’s somehow comforting, much like the silence that hung between them. Haruna decides Yuki is her flame in a winter day - warmth, calm and serenity.
“Do you hate AKB?”
The question surprises Haruna, but this is Yuki after all, she’s not called Black for nothing.
“I call it my playground,” She laughs half-heartedly. It’s the still truth. Yukirin gives her a pointed knowing look and she knows she has to answer correctly, “Yea, I hate it.”
“Me too,”
“I hate it to the core of my bones, but I can never imagine myself out of it. I hate the system, I hate having to survive, but I can’t see myself doing anything else but be part of the 48. I don’t hate the people but sometimes I wish I do, just so it’ll be easier.”
Kashiwagi complains a lot about AKB too, probably to the point of hatred. Yuki doesn’t like how it changes the people in it and she hates herself for not being capable of correcting that. But Haruna’s point of view of it is different, because no matter how many times Yuki heard the word ‘hate’ from her answer, her voice didn’t mirror any of those feelings. Haruna is numb, Yuki muses inwardly, speaking only to her mind and she watches the tall pale female’s eyes and wonders how many times and how many more will those be brimming with tears.
Her ramen is cold and stale when she decides to eat again, not that she’s still in the mood to eat anyway. Yukirin just observes, tracing lines through the air and draws Haruna’s face, her movements, her slight smile until it’s time for a goodbye.
In the dark of the night, Yuki stares at the blackness of her room and holds her heart as it is about to burst. Yuki realizes albeit belatedly that fear is beautiful, pain is beautiful, destruction is beautiful; Haruna can attest to that.
Haruna never misses a day on seeing Yuki forecast the weather. It’s not always accurate but rain or shine, Haruna always brings her umbrella, one that’s big enough for her and Yuki. She likes the thought of having Yuki smile and thank her for opening it and holding it up for the two of them, but what Haruna likes the most is the proximity - how their elbows touch and how Yukirin is so close, she feels like she sees what the cameras doesn’t see.
She leaves her house early and a little too early maybe because she’s the first one to arrive in the waiting room. Haruna leans her head on the table and her thoughts drift over the noise that penetrates the walls of the room and how Yukirin will probably hate it. Until soon enough her brain picks up on the things Yuki might and might not like and lists them all, and then…. Haruna recalls clearly how she met Kashiwagi, just hanging by a tiny thread of a memory, but still beautiful memory at hand.
They have a mutual friend: silence. Yuki entered Haruna’s sandbox because of its silence and perhaps the beauty and the innocence of the back facing towards her. Curiosity as a pull and a push, a hello and a hello back and then comes quickly silence, but of course as their friend. The quiet is uneventful and boring and often the young Yuki wondered what could one have masked their thoughts in such almost lethargic atmosphere of nothingness. Haruna could have ruled the world with her mind and speak nothing of it. Haruna remembered Yuki as the kid who looked like they just grew out of puberty, limbs too long and knees that barely support them as she walked and she walked towards her.
They had a mutual friend and now they have two more: dreams and nightmares.
Yuki bends a bit to be on the same eye-level as her. But she’s up-side-down. “You like beating me in getting here the earliest, huh? This is the second time, Kojima-san.” Yukirin fishes her phone out of her bag and stands upright, shaking the tiny device in her hand, “Two-shot? I’ll mention it in my blog. Do you want it to be captioned as evil or sly?”
“Kashiwagi-chan, I want to be blogged about honestly. I am not sly or evil. You are,” Haruna stands up and Yukirin swiftly moves to her side, placing her mobile phone in front of them, counting up to three and captures a photo with a press of a button.
“Update your blog too!” Kashiwagi tells her without looking, punching the keys on her phone to type a coherent post along with the attached picture.
Haruna doesn’t. She just takes a million pictures of Yukirin mostly, with and without her permission and in truth, Haruna likes the candid shots better. She stores them in a separate folder in her phone, openly pleased because Yuki didn’t seem to have noticed the extra photos Haruna captured without her knowledge.
“Kojima-san,”
Haruna blinks and the next thing she hears is a shutter sound coming from Yukirin’s phone. “Wow, don’t tell me…”
“I want to put up a solo picture of you. Don’t worry I’ll blog about you honestly,” She says teasingly and begins to type again.
“Tell me if you posted it already, I want to see it,”
“No, it’s embarrassing. Read it later,”
She nods but checks Yuki’s blog on her phone browser anyway, opening the new entry she just posted entitled ‘Good morning,’ that says:
But instead of that greeting I got a ‘blog about me honestly’ from Kojima-san.
Recently, we talked about things that made me think ‘Ah, Kojiharu is the person I want to protect,’ ’Kojiharu is amazing,’ ‘I want to be with Kojiharu forever’ ♥
Then again, I only call her Kojima-san ^^
I took pictures but I thought these are the pictures I want to treasure forever! Let me be selfish just this once!!
Most importantly, I am lucky to have Kojima-san in my life.
So you!
Yes, you!
You’re an unlucky soul if you don’t know the kind, beautiful and loving Haruna we all love. Kyaa! This is too honest, Kojima-san. How embarrassing >///<
♥ ♥ ♥
Yukirin.
Haruna smiles and directs her gaze towards Yuki. “You should compliment me in person,”
“What?”
“Your blog, I read it,”
“Oh…” She trails off and distracts herself with meddling with the contents of her bag, not wanting to make eye contact. “You told me to blog honestly and I did.”
“Yukirin,”
Kashiwagi turns to her and their eyes meet. Haruna sees anticipation and joy pleasantly masked in her expression. “I-I can call you that, right?”
Yuki swallows loudly and nods frantically like there would never be enough emphasis on how she agrees and allows Haruna to.
*
Before going out to the stage, just by the mouth of the opening to the backstage, Haruna stands beside Yuki and holds her hand, interlacing their long skinny fingers. No one will see. No one will have to see. She knows the song playing is about to end and matching the ending notes and the cheer of the crowd, she whispers to her ear: “Thank you for being my playmate,”
A bunch of research students rush towards their direction and it’s their turn to perform. Yuki drags her towards the stage, not releasing her hand from her grasp.
“Thank you for being my playmate,” Yuki corrects and releases her hand only because she has to. But if they were both given the choice, they could’ve stayed that way -hands linked, eyes only on each other- and nothing else has to matter.