[ficlet] three thousand worlds in one instant (ohmiya)
three thousand worlds in one instant
for tohshimari
~850 words | PG | Ohmiya (Ohno/Nino)| Johnny's Entertainment - Arashi RPS
A/N: I've been thinking about Tendai Buddhism and interpenetrating realities for my Japanese Religions final all day. I'm sorry that this strayed from your request quite a bit, tohshimari. I hope that it's still okay! Set a couple of years back, just after Nino arrives back in Tokyo from filming Iwo Jima in the U.S. As usual, crazychickencow is a wonderful sounding board. ♥
On the path of dreams
My feet have run after you without rest
But that is not worth
Catching a single glance
Of you in reality.
- (Ono no Komachi, in the Kokin Wakashū [古今和歌集], c. 920 C.E.)
When Nino comes through the arrival gate at Narita International, tired and overbright eyes locking instantly with Ohno's, Ohno feels a sudden flutter and heave in his chest, like his heart is trying to push itself through his ribcage.
Nino pulls him into a tight hug as soon as Ohno is within reach, dropping his carry-on and jacket and wrapping his arms so snugly around Ohno that all Ohno can do is cling and cling and bury his nose into the warm purple of Nino's sweater and feel him once again.
He wonders if Nino can hear his heart pounding, sound and rhythm kicking up caged longing and waiting and fear with the bare shock of seeing Nino walking towards him, existing once again outside of a tinny, strained voice on the other side of the Pacific and hurried, late-night e-mails that never really said anything much at all.
"Oh-chan," Nino says, soft as a breath. His fingers card through Ohno's spiky hair, maybe a little bit roughly. His cheek is hot against the side of Ohno's neck, his frame even skinnier than before he left, sharp and worn down around the edges. He doesn't let go, and Ohno is glad, because he doesn't think he can either.
Ohno has forgotten, somehow, in the past while, Nino. He knows the curve of his smile and the cartography of his face, the way he spoke and laughed and grew serious. But they were somehow fragments, jewel-bright sparks of something larger that Ohno hadn't even realized he was really without until he saw Nino's slumped shoulders and unshaven chin, the white-hot flash of something in his gaze when his eyes stopped searching for Ohno.
"You're here," Ohno says, completely aware of how utterly stupid that sounds, but unable to express otherwise what it meant to see Nino again, real and solid.
"Welcome home," he adds a second later, when Nino lets him breathe a little more, pulling back to look at him with eyes so hungry and searching that Ohno almost shivers.
"Let's go," Nino picks up his luggage without letting go of Ohno's hand, waving goodbye to his manager, who is hovering quietly somewhere behind them, speaking into her cell phone.
Nino is silent until they arrive at his apartment, and Ohno can see the droop of his eyelids, his half-frown and small yawns as he scans the late afternoon city bustle, looking both numbly tired and quietly content.
"We were going to throw you a party," Ohno admits, as Nino locks his apartment door and Ohno is opening the windows, chasing out the stale air. "But Aiba-chan and Sho were both really busy today and Jun said that you would be too tired anyways."
"I'm glad." Nino stretches out back on his bed, curling and uncurling his sock-clad toes. "The plane ride took forever. I was beginning to think it would never be over." He grabs a pillow, nuzzling against it almost possessively, with a small sigh.
Ohno sits on the edge of the bed and watches the peaceful rise and fall of Nino's chest. He's unable to stop from reaching out, from brushing his fingers against Nino's cheek, the sharp curve of his chin.
Nino opens his eyes, gaze guarded but wanting as Ohno sweeps his thumb over the swell of Nino's lower lip, breath catching in his throat. It should feel weird, but this is Nino and he's always understood Ohno in the most complicated ways.
"Did you miss me?" Nino's tone is light and teasing, his own hand reaching up to rest over where Ohno's own is trembling slightly, cupping the curve of Nino's face.
"Every day," Ohno says with conviction and Nino's fingers tighten around his, his eyes flickering over Ohno's face like he's trying to memorize it.
"Lie down with me, Oh-chan." There isn't much room on Nino's bed, but Ohno pushes him right into Nino's space nonetheless, wrapping an arm around Nino's waist and burying his face in Nino's shoulder, breathing in and out as slowly and deeply as he can, like meditation.
He's faintly aware of Nino's hands tracing the muscles of his back, the feather-light kisses Nino lazily rains on his neck above the collar of his t-shirt, but it seems faraway, like a dream. Their breathing evens out and seems to blend in the still air of Nino's bedroom, the sunset casting shadows thorough the curtains across the bed and their entwined figures.
Ohno slowly begins to lose his own grip on wakefulness, eyes slipping shut to the sound of Nino's heart beating against his own chest. His mind feels heavy. He wants to tell him about the gaping limbo of blank space between goodbye and now, choreography for four instead of five and seeing Nino outside of his own mind for the first time in what felt like an age, for an instant that was both transitory and eternal.
Fortunately, they have tomorrow. Ohno tightens his arms around Nino, unaware of the moment that he passes from reality into his dreams.
cross-posted to jent_fanfics
for tohshimari
~850 words | PG | Ohmiya (Ohno/Nino)| Johnny's Entertainment - Arashi RPS
A/N: I've been thinking about Tendai Buddhism and interpenetrating realities for my Japanese Religions final all day. I'm sorry that this strayed from your request quite a bit, tohshimari. I hope that it's still okay! Set a couple of years back, just after Nino arrives back in Tokyo from filming Iwo Jima in the U.S. As usual, crazychickencow is a wonderful sounding board. ♥
On the path of dreams
My feet have run after you without rest
But that is not worth
Catching a single glance
Of you in reality.
- (Ono no Komachi, in the Kokin Wakashū [古今和歌集], c. 920 C.E.)
When Nino comes through the arrival gate at Narita International, tired and overbright eyes locking instantly with Ohno's, Ohno feels a sudden flutter and heave in his chest, like his heart is trying to push itself through his ribcage.
Nino pulls him into a tight hug as soon as Ohno is within reach, dropping his carry-on and jacket and wrapping his arms so snugly around Ohno that all Ohno can do is cling and cling and bury his nose into the warm purple of Nino's sweater and feel him once again.
He wonders if Nino can hear his heart pounding, sound and rhythm kicking up caged longing and waiting and fear with the bare shock of seeing Nino walking towards him, existing once again outside of a tinny, strained voice on the other side of the Pacific and hurried, late-night e-mails that never really said anything much at all.
"Oh-chan," Nino says, soft as a breath. His fingers card through Ohno's spiky hair, maybe a little bit roughly. His cheek is hot against the side of Ohno's neck, his frame even skinnier than before he left, sharp and worn down around the edges. He doesn't let go, and Ohno is glad, because he doesn't think he can either.
Ohno has forgotten, somehow, in the past while, Nino. He knows the curve of his smile and the cartography of his face, the way he spoke and laughed and grew serious. But they were somehow fragments, jewel-bright sparks of something larger that Ohno hadn't even realized he was really without until he saw Nino's slumped shoulders and unshaven chin, the white-hot flash of something in his gaze when his eyes stopped searching for Ohno.
"You're here," Ohno says, completely aware of how utterly stupid that sounds, but unable to express otherwise what it meant to see Nino again, real and solid.
"Welcome home," he adds a second later, when Nino lets him breathe a little more, pulling back to look at him with eyes so hungry and searching that Ohno almost shivers.
"Let's go," Nino picks up his luggage without letting go of Ohno's hand, waving goodbye to his manager, who is hovering quietly somewhere behind them, speaking into her cell phone.
Nino is silent until they arrive at his apartment, and Ohno can see the droop of his eyelids, his half-frown and small yawns as he scans the late afternoon city bustle, looking both numbly tired and quietly content.
"We were going to throw you a party," Ohno admits, as Nino locks his apartment door and Ohno is opening the windows, chasing out the stale air. "But Aiba-chan and Sho were both really busy today and Jun said that you would be too tired anyways."
"I'm glad." Nino stretches out back on his bed, curling and uncurling his sock-clad toes. "The plane ride took forever. I was beginning to think it would never be over." He grabs a pillow, nuzzling against it almost possessively, with a small sigh.
Ohno sits on the edge of the bed and watches the peaceful rise and fall of Nino's chest. He's unable to stop from reaching out, from brushing his fingers against Nino's cheek, the sharp curve of his chin.
Nino opens his eyes, gaze guarded but wanting as Ohno sweeps his thumb over the swell of Nino's lower lip, breath catching in his throat. It should feel weird, but this is Nino and he's always understood Ohno in the most complicated ways.
"Did you miss me?" Nino's tone is light and teasing, his own hand reaching up to rest over where Ohno's own is trembling slightly, cupping the curve of Nino's face.
"Every day," Ohno says with conviction and Nino's fingers tighten around his, his eyes flickering over Ohno's face like he's trying to memorize it.
"Lie down with me, Oh-chan." There isn't much room on Nino's bed, but Ohno pushes him right into Nino's space nonetheless, wrapping an arm around Nino's waist and burying his face in Nino's shoulder, breathing in and out as slowly and deeply as he can, like meditation.
He's faintly aware of Nino's hands tracing the muscles of his back, the feather-light kisses Nino lazily rains on his neck above the collar of his t-shirt, but it seems faraway, like a dream. Their breathing evens out and seems to blend in the still air of Nino's bedroom, the sunset casting shadows thorough the curtains across the bed and their entwined figures.
Ohno slowly begins to lose his own grip on wakefulness, eyes slipping shut to the sound of Nino's heart beating against his own chest. His mind feels heavy. He wants to tell him about the gaping limbo of blank space between goodbye and now, choreography for four instead of five and seeing Nino outside of his own mind for the first time in what felt like an age, for an instant that was both transitory and eternal.
Fortunately, they have tomorrow. Ohno tightens his arms around Nino, unaware of the moment that he passes from reality into his dreams.
cross-posted to jent_fanfics