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tangiblewhimsyTitle: Raw Deal
Universe: Promenade
Pairing: Ninomiya Kazunari/Ohno Satoshi, Nino/Jun friendship
Author:tangiblewhimsy
Rating: PG
Genre: AU Romance
Summary: Ninomiya Kazunari and Matsumoto Jun are students at a prestigious arts academy where Ohno Satoshi has been invited to act as a guest instructor for dance. Aiba Masaki is a young man who has recently gotten an interesting part-time job at the same school, much to Jun’s despair.
Notes: Nino's having a pretty shitty day. (Also: I told you guys I was working on it! :D)
Warnings: Potentially triggering home situations. No violence or abuse, but please read at your own risk. If you have questions and would like a more specific warning, feel free to send me a PM and I'll let you know what's going on.
Additional media: Jun's Sketchbook: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
"Ahhh, I'm so hungry!" Nino whined, resting his head on his hand as he folded over the table. The restaurant they'd dropped in on was very busy, packed to bursting with the afternoon rush. Even with the number of bodies squished in together, however, the air was rich with the scent of sizzling meat and cooking oils, which actually made Nino's stomach twist unpleasantly but he knew that at least half of his discomfort could be explained by the fact he hadn't eaten at all.
Across from him Jun snorted into his tea, causing Nino to shoot him a sideways glance.
"Now I know you're a pod-person replacement," Jun explained himself with a shrug.
"If I was a pod-person wouldn't it be more likely that I'd eat even less?" Nino asked, grinning in amusement.
"Not if you thought it was normal human behavior to express hunger. Your mistake was taking over the body of an unhealthy hermit who only barely resembles regular people when he stands to benefit from it," Jun answered.
"Ouch," Nino tsk'd. He wasn't really offended by Jun's accusation, however. "Well, assume that my mimicry is being employed because I'm trying to get you to pay for my food."
"Ah, welcome back, my friend," Jun grinned.
Nino chuckled before shifting in his seat so that he could face Jun properly. He was silent for a moment as he just looked at his friend and enjoyed the fact that they were finally in the same place at the same time for the same reason. It felt good! Though the longer he looked, the more he noticed that something was kind of off. He hadn't expected Jun to be bubbly or anything, but Nino also hadn't anticipated him looking so tired.
"How's your nudey art boyfriend?" Nino inquired conversationally, taking a sip of water.
"How's your lunchbox boyfriend?" Jun returned gamely.
"Touché," Nino conceded with a smirk. "But seriously, how've you been?"
Jun's face went through a complicated series of twitches before morphing into a grimace.
"That good?" Nino said, giving a sympathetic frown.
"Worse," Jun confessed, sighing as he dragged a hand through his hair. Resting his elbows on the table, Jun let himself sink into a slouch.
When Jun didn't expand on his complaint, Nino hesitated before approaching the subject. "Should I ask?"
Again, Jun's brow creased and he frowned deeply. "It's just... school stuff. It's stupid."
Nodding in understanding, Nino took another drink of water. Neither of them had ever been top of the class, but Jun had sometimes struggled more. He also usually voiced frustration with his struggles, though—unless he felt backed into a corner. While Nino's general policy was not to pry, he couldn't help being concerned.
"Math?" he guessed.
"Among other things," Jun said. "Like physics. And history. And English." Jun's face grew progressively brighter with each listed topic.
"Shit," Nino marveled. He didn't mean to let shock show on his face, not wanting Jun to feel any worse. Thankfully, he was pretty sure Jun was busy scowling at the bottom of his glass.
"Yeah," Jun answered. He paused as though he was going to say more, but then deflated with a sigh as he repeated himself, "Yeah."
They sat in silence, the sounds of other conversations throughout the restaurant unable to absorb the uncomfortable tension in the atmosphere over their table. Nino wasn't sure what he could do to try and help, or if his help would even be welcome. He was only passing English because of video games, which was a pastime Jun likely didn't have time for. Nino also wouldn't recommend it as an actual study habit. As for the other topics, Nino either wasn't taking them or else had no confidence that he'd be helpful in bringing Jun up to speed.
"Guess who lives in my neighborhood?" Nino said, making a blatant attempt at trying to change the topic. Sitting up in his seat, Jun gladly took the lifeline he was being thrown.
"Who?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in an attempt to ease his discomfort.
"Oh-chan," Nino said, though as the answer left his mouth he had the sudden thought that maybe he shouldn't have shared the information. That was kind of irrational though, right? It wasn't as though Ohno Satoshi's home address was a matter of national security.
Though the way Jun's eyes popped as he openly stared gave Nino reason for doubt.
Finally, Jun's brain seemed to process the information enough to respond. "You're just running into him all over the place, huh?"
"I guess now we know why," Nino laughed, shrugging as he turned to look up. Motion out of the corner of his eye had alerted him to their server coming, finally presenting them with food.
Nino took a happy sniff of his curry flavored ramen and thanking the server before she rushed off to the next table. Across from him, Jun arranged his own order of tonkatsu but still appeared distracted by what Nino had said.
"Ohno-san's a pretty interesting guy, huh?" Jun hummed, tapping his chopsticks lightly on the edge of the table before attempting to split them. He glared at them as the break was uneven, but took them in his right hand to use anyway.
"He's pretty cool, yeah," Nino nodded, though he was somewhat distracted by the matter of slurping up a sizable bite of his meal.
"He's also kind of scary, though," Jun remarked absently, dipping a strip of pork into the provided sauce.
Slurping up his most recent bite, Nino nearly choked as Jun's remark caused him to snort.
"Scary?" he gasped, grabbing a napkin to wipe a bit of broth off his chin. After getting through a light cough, Nino laughed at the very idea that Ohno was scary.
"I'm totally serious!" Jun tried to defend himself, though it was difficult to sound serious when Nino's giggling was infectious. "You get to see the sleepy Ohno-san! The one that's all quiet and nice and—"
"Is about as terrifying as a marshmallow," Nino interjected with a snort.
"Right," Jun nodded in agreement. "But that's just one side. There's the other Ohno-san, the choreographer Ohno-san. That's the one who's strict and really demanding, and every time you miss a step he gives you this look." Jun stopped his list to give an involuntary shudder, which only amused Nino more.
"It's not disappointment. Lots of people think disappointment is the worst thing, but Ohno-san doesn't look disappointed in you for messing up, he looks pissed. Don't laugh! It's not funny!" Despite his protest, Jun ended up joining Nino as he broke down into laughter once more.
Nino reached for his water as he tried to catch his breath, grinning all the while. Jun tried to further defend his point, but Nino didn't care enough to argue. He was too distracted by how good this felt. Their last lunch together had been incredibly brief, and while it had served as an emotional check-in, the end result had felt sort of awkward and sad. It was difficult to know that they were both struggling, but it was even worse to feel like there was nothing they could do to help one another (or themselves, even). Being able to laugh like this, and being able to get Jun to laugh just as hard, was an immense relief.
Lunch with Jun had been very good for Nino in many ways. It had helped him to feel connected to his friend again, it had let them both relax a little, they'd both gotten a chance to talk about things that they actually enjoyed; things that had absolutely nothing to do with school, or assignments, or the future. The entire afternoon had served as a great reminder to Nino what it was like to have a friend to commiserate with and talk to. It had also served to highlight the glaring and uncomfortable absence of any friends in his day-to-day life.
Nino could admit to having a lot of faults, but jealousy didn't tend to be one of them. Not that he was impervious to the emotion; he just generally didn't feel threatened by the majority of things that would make someone defensive in that way. So when he started to see more and more of Aiba Masaki at the lunch table that for years had been occupied almost exclusively by Jun and himself, Nino couldn't put a finger on why he had a problem with it. He actually liked Aiba! They got along well, he had a great sense of humor, and he was full of hilarious and embarrassing details about Jun's day that Nino otherwise wouldn't have been privy to. Which, now that he was thinking about it, Nino was pretty sure was actually part of the problem.
Nino had already accepted that they were both going to be busy this year. Jun seemed especially busy, being pulled back and forth between dance practice, voice lessons, and acting classes. Add to that regular school work and now tutoring, it was amazing that they'd managed to find time for lunch—nearly three weeks ago. And yet Jun seemed to have time for Aiba Masaki.
"So then Sho-chan comes home and shows me an invisible bruise on his side and tells me about how MatsuJun rushed in and kicked him out of the kitchen," Aiba finished reporting, giggling all the while.
"What was I supposed to do? How does a grown man fuck up something as simple as tea?" Jun defended himself, cheeks pink all the way back to his ears.
Rather than answer, Aiba clapped loudly as he laughed so hard he started to list to the side. Despite Jun's brow being creased with annoyance, Nino could see the laughter barely being restrained with a grin as he reached out to tug Aiba upright by his shirt sleeve again.
The entire exchange should have been great. Nino definitely saw the amusement in the situation; Jun trying to be a gracious host to an unexpected tutor (who was apparently also Aiba's roommate), only to lose his cool when his precious kitchen appliances became threatened. It was so very Jun and Nino wished he could have been there! He hadn't been, though. And while he knew that there was no reasonable way he could have or should have been involved, he couldn't help the hollow feeling of being out of the loop.
Doing his best not to let his unfounded melancholy show on his face, Nino forced a grin and a laugh.
"Yeah, J doesn't really understand boundaries very well," Nino attempted to contribute. He was starting to wonder if he should bother, though, because he was growing more uncomfortable by the minute being the odd man out.
"Oh shut up, you would have done the same!" Jun answered, though his response lacked any bite as he lost the fight to contain himself and gave a nasally giggle.
It was weird to see Jun so... Nino didn't even know how to describe it. He'd seen his friend happy in the past before, of course, but it had been a while since Jun had been this lively. Being that Nino cared about his friend and wanted him to be happy, Jun's behavior should have made him feel good. He should have been especially proud that Jun had managed to make a new friend, which had never been exactly easy. Instead, Nino was trying to ignore the niggling feeling that he was being replaced. Of course such a feeling was unfounded and ridiculous! Knowing he was being ridiculous wasn't exactly helpful, however. If anything trying to talk himself down from his jealousies only made him feel worse.
Not wanting his bad mood to taint the otherwise cheerful atmosphere, Nino started to prepare his things so he could leave. His attempts at being discreet, however, had apparently failed.
"Where're you going?" Jun asked as his attention was suddenly completely on Nino. While he cringed internally, Nino managed to keep his face impassive and he gave a shrug.
"I was going to head to the music wing to find a practice room for a nap," he answered with the first excuse that came to mind.
"Oh..." Jun said, and when Nino looked up he could see in Jun's face that his friend knew something was off.
"Too much Grand Theft Auto," Nino explained with a grin, flashing Jun and Aiba a pair of peace signs. "I've gotta catch some z's if I'm going to make it through math."
Jun didn't seem to believe him completely, but he didn't show any sign that he was about to call Nino out either.
"Sleep well, Nino-chan!" Aiba smiled brightly, waving to Nino from his place at Jun's side.
"I'll see you guys later," Nino managed to grin.
"See you," Jun answered, smiling at Nino and giving him a wave as well.
Nino picked up his guitar and hauled it along with him through the maze of tables and students. Once he was back in the main body of the school, however, he realized that he honestly had no idea where to go. His heart started to pound and face feel warm because it was starting to sink in how foolish and weird he'd been for just up and leaving the table. He couldn't exactly go back, though. That would have been even more awkward and embarrassing.
As his ears started to heat up in his agitation, Nino forced himself to keep staring straight ahead. He was acutely aware of the fact that to his right were the halls that would lead to the mirror-walled rooms for dance practice. He was also aware of the fact that he was pretty shitty company for anyone right now. Unconsciously clenching his jaw, Nino turned sharply to the left and marched purposefully toward the music wing.
Nino's mood did not improve as the day wore on. By the end he couldn't even focus on distracting himself with games, his DS sitting closed and silent on top of his desk as his knee bounced impatiently below. The moment the final bell rang, he shoved his belongings into his bags and rushed for the exit. The deluge of students around him only encouraged Nino to move more quickly, the imposing force of other humans causing his tension to spike. All he wanted to do was to leave and get some place where he could be alone.
Once he was on the train, earbuds tucked firmly in place, Nino's jitteriness began to abate. He scrolled through the music on his mp3-player, trying to find a tune or series of tunes that would help soothe his mind. While nothing he came across really hit the spot, the activity kept him occupied for the duration of his ride home and soon enough he was trekking up the short walk to his front door.
Afternoon sunlight peeked through the gaps of drawn shades, stretching long spindly fingers of gold across pristine hardwood and soft blue walls adorned with framed photos. Smiling faces peered out at Nino silently as he passed them on his way to the stairs. He'd passed them so many times that they'd grown strange in their familiarity, a collection of memories he should have felt something for but didn't.
The furnishings were well kept; all wood dusted and polished, and all pillows fluffed and plump. Silk flowers stood in a glass vase on an end table and near the sizeable television. The living room alone could have come straight out of a catalogue—it looked just about as lived in. It bore no resemblance to the rooms in several of the photos standing on shelves and hanging from walls. A house with floor mats and nondescript rugs, with hand-me-down tables and chairs that had been old before Nino had ever been born. The older the photos the less the home resembled its current state. The younger the faces, the less they reflected their current lives.
Climbing the stairs to his room, Nino closed the door against the emptiness and the silence behind him. Dropping his school bag on the floor by his desk, Nino was only slightly gentler with his guitar before flinging himself onto the bed. He didn't expect to sleep but he did hope that closing his eyes and tuning out the world would help him pull himself together. Rolling onto his back, Nino draped an arm over his eyes and took deep, slow breaths as he did his best to relax. Though he turned his music off, he left his earbuds in, more comfortable with the muffled sound of his own breathing than with the quiet.
Nino woke with a start when the front door slammed shut heavily under its own weight. His heart raced, painful and uncomfortable in his chest as his mind tried to catch up with his body. Through his door he could hear the echo of footsteps and voices, objects being discarded heavily on tables or counters. Although annoying, the sounds were dull enough that Nino was able to lie back against his pillow again, ready to give up on trying to be awake for just a little bit longer.
"Why is it that wherever I go I am surrounded by FILTH AND STUPIDITY?"
His father's voice spiking in volume would have been enough rouse Nino, but the crash of dishes being thrown into the metal kitchen sink made sure that he wouldn't be able to ignore the voices downstairs. Sitting up with a sigh, Nino pulled his earbuds out of his ear before rubbing his neck and looking at the shadowed walls of his bedroom mindlessly. There were no posters hanging, all of them having been taken down two years ago when he'd stapled empty egg cartons from wall to wall in an attempt to soundproof his room. Unfortunately he'd been all of 15 and hadn't really understood the physics of sound well enough to know that it was an essentially useless endeavor.
"Will you calm down?" He heard his mother say with barely veiled annoyance. He could see her in his mind's eye, donning her house apron after having spent all day in one for work.
"I will not 'calm down'! Do you have any idea how difficult it's going to be to find a new sous chef that's worth a damn?"
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Nino fumbled about in his bedding in search of his MP3 player. Fishing it out of the sheets, Nino checked its battery as he stood, stretching with his arms up into the air. As he moved the few steps to turn on the lamp at his desk, the sound of softer, still tense voices drifted up through the floor, punctuated by the violent snap of cabinets being opened and closed with excessive force. Nino dropped himself down into his desk chair heavily, scratching at his neck with one hand while the other reached for the second-hand studio headphones with frayed foam earcups that sat atop his stereo with the other.
"Would you get out?"
"Get out?!"
Another slam as something heavy hit a counter. Any pretense of staying civil evaporated as Nino's mother raised her voice. "Yes! Get out! I need to make dinner, you are in my way. Go! Leave!"
There was a beat of silence charged with all of the atmospheric tension of an oncoming electrical storm. Nino picked stray hairs out of the foam headband of his headphones, settling the heavy set on his head right as the first crack of lightning hit.
"WHOSE KITCHEN DO YOU THI—"
While the bellowing dropped several decibels, Nino still turned on his stereo and cranked the volume. Normally he hated having it so loud, the insulation of the headphones making his ears ache after only a few minutes of listening. The way he figured it, though, anything was better than having to focus on his parents' verbal warfare. Closing his eyes, Nino breathed deeply as he focused on the melody and lyrics.
He'd gotten lucky that the track playing was something somewhat energetic, but it wasn't right for his mood. As with earlier, his attention drifted after only a minute or so of listening, his fingers tapping out a distracted rhythm on the edge of his desk as the conflict downstairs remained audible just beneath the music. The longer he tried the less he wanted anything to do with the song that was playing, or the one after it. The beat that had taken over his fingers (and spread to a hastily tapping foot), however, was a compelling enough alternative.
Nino turned his stereo off, unplugging the heavy connector before twisting in his chair to plug his headphones into the jack on his amp.
"What did you expect? That because you're chef, you're god? NO ONE WANTS TO WORK WITH YOU!"
The amp came to life with an electric click and an audible buzz. Adjusting the various nobs and dials, Nino pulled his acoustic-electric guitar from its stand. Bending his head over the neck, Nino found his pick and tested the tuning. Mouthing a silent countdown, Nino struck the first chord hard and loud, managing to distort his father's likely belligerent response.
The notes did not come seamlessly, each bar sharp and tight. Every few beats at the start there was a sour note, but Nino's hands kept moving. There was no polish, nothing pretty about the music he was making. His fingers maneuvered deftly along the frets, pulling an angry twang from the strings as the melody vibrated against his chest and set his heart racing. He could hear a beat in the music, the tune shifting rhythmically; jumping and writhing like an open flame, but with more force. It felt as though it had the weight of a person, moving light and quick with controlled twists and sharp pauses, but always, always in motion.
Nino's fingers began to tire, his hands hurting even as they moved faster and faster. He was losing the song; the chords running into one another as his tempo manage to jump the tracks. He stopped with a panicked jolt as a door down the hallway from him closed with a resounding SLAM! Realizing that his breathing was shallow and quick and his heart was thundering against his ribs, Nino dragged his headphones off and replaced his instrument on its stand. His ears were ringing, which probably should have hurt but didn't.
When the tininess faded to a subtle buzz, Nino could hear enough to know that the yelling was over. Able to read the tension in the house without even leaving his room, however, he could also tell that the fight was still ongoing. It took him a moment to gain his bearings enough to grab a coat from his closet and slip it on before quietly but rapidly descending the stairs. He didn't have to look around the corner to know that the person loudly forcing pots and pans about while water ran in the kitchen sink was probably his father. Not stopping to investigate, Nino slipped into his shoes and out the front door without a word.
Outside it was already dark and impressively chilly. Nino was grateful for the cold, though, breathing in several deep lungfuls of it in an attempt to combat his anxious heart. He walked briskly through the neighborhood streets, not so much confident in where he was going as he was ambivalent. After putting several blocks between himself and his home, the buzzing had eventually faded and he was able to hear normally again. His pace slowed and rather than continue to race through the night he began to meander down the abandoned streets. As he came around a wide corner lined with the occasional streetlamp he slowed to an inadvertent stop.
At first he had stopped just to look around and figure out where he'd ended up. Nino knew the neighborhood fairly well, but he hadn't been keeping track of which direction he'd been headed. As he searched for a familiar landmark his attention was drawn to a figure the moved across the street.
Ohno Satoshi had a fair sized bag of plastic recyclables in-hand as he walked to the end of his home's short driveway. Nino tensed momentarily, frozen as he resisted the urge to immediately turn back the way he'd come from. While there wasn't any logical reason for him to flee at first, his mind soon began filling in justification. The top of the list was that he didn't want to come off like a real stalker, especially not after how he'd teased Ohno. It had nothing to do with the fact that Nino wasn't sure he'd be able to keep all of the unpleasantness of his day to himself. Though as Ohno not only looked in his direction but then started to wave Nino figured that he didn't have much of a choice anymore.
Waving back, Nino gave a smile that was tight at first but softened as he crossed the street and was greeted by quiet, surprised laughter.
"Hi," Ohno grinned, placing one hand on his hip and seeming to forget the task (literally) at hand.
Nino had considered simply saying hello and then goodbye. It would have been easy enough to excuse himself and just go home; it had to be fairly late in the evening, after all. As soon as he'd come to a stop, however, he gave up on any such plan. It'd been thirty seconds and one word and this had already been the best part of his day.
<< First | Last >>
Chapter 14: Credentials | Chapter 16: Working Hard
Universe: Promenade
Pairing: Ninomiya Kazunari/Ohno Satoshi, Nino/Jun friendship
Author:
tangiblewhimsyRating: PG
Genre: AU Romance
Summary: Ninomiya Kazunari and Matsumoto Jun are students at a prestigious arts academy where Ohno Satoshi has been invited to act as a guest instructor for dance. Aiba Masaki is a young man who has recently gotten an interesting part-time job at the same school, much to Jun’s despair.
Notes: Nino's having a pretty shitty day. (Also: I told you guys I was working on it! :D)
Warnings: Potentially triggering home situations. No violence or abuse, but please read at your own risk. If you have questions and would like a more specific warning, feel free to send me a PM and I'll let you know what's going on.
Additional media: Jun's Sketchbook: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
"Ahhh, I'm so hungry!" Nino whined, resting his head on his hand as he folded over the table. The restaurant they'd dropped in on was very busy, packed to bursting with the afternoon rush. Even with the number of bodies squished in together, however, the air was rich with the scent of sizzling meat and cooking oils, which actually made Nino's stomach twist unpleasantly but he knew that at least half of his discomfort could be explained by the fact he hadn't eaten at all.
Across from him Jun snorted into his tea, causing Nino to shoot him a sideways glance.
"Now I know you're a pod-person replacement," Jun explained himself with a shrug.
"If I was a pod-person wouldn't it be more likely that I'd eat even less?" Nino asked, grinning in amusement.
"Not if you thought it was normal human behavior to express hunger. Your mistake was taking over the body of an unhealthy hermit who only barely resembles regular people when he stands to benefit from it," Jun answered.
"Ouch," Nino tsk'd. He wasn't really offended by Jun's accusation, however. "Well, assume that my mimicry is being employed because I'm trying to get you to pay for my food."
"Ah, welcome back, my friend," Jun grinned.
Nino chuckled before shifting in his seat so that he could face Jun properly. He was silent for a moment as he just looked at his friend and enjoyed the fact that they were finally in the same place at the same time for the same reason. It felt good! Though the longer he looked, the more he noticed that something was kind of off. He hadn't expected Jun to be bubbly or anything, but Nino also hadn't anticipated him looking so tired.
"How's your nudey art boyfriend?" Nino inquired conversationally, taking a sip of water.
"How's your lunchbox boyfriend?" Jun returned gamely.
"Touché," Nino conceded with a smirk. "But seriously, how've you been?"
Jun's face went through a complicated series of twitches before morphing into a grimace.
"That good?" Nino said, giving a sympathetic frown.
"Worse," Jun confessed, sighing as he dragged a hand through his hair. Resting his elbows on the table, Jun let himself sink into a slouch.
When Jun didn't expand on his complaint, Nino hesitated before approaching the subject. "Should I ask?"
Again, Jun's brow creased and he frowned deeply. "It's just... school stuff. It's stupid."
Nodding in understanding, Nino took another drink of water. Neither of them had ever been top of the class, but Jun had sometimes struggled more. He also usually voiced frustration with his struggles, though—unless he felt backed into a corner. While Nino's general policy was not to pry, he couldn't help being concerned.
"Math?" he guessed.
"Among other things," Jun said. "Like physics. And history. And English." Jun's face grew progressively brighter with each listed topic.
"Shit," Nino marveled. He didn't mean to let shock show on his face, not wanting Jun to feel any worse. Thankfully, he was pretty sure Jun was busy scowling at the bottom of his glass.
"Yeah," Jun answered. He paused as though he was going to say more, but then deflated with a sigh as he repeated himself, "Yeah."
They sat in silence, the sounds of other conversations throughout the restaurant unable to absorb the uncomfortable tension in the atmosphere over their table. Nino wasn't sure what he could do to try and help, or if his help would even be welcome. He was only passing English because of video games, which was a pastime Jun likely didn't have time for. Nino also wouldn't recommend it as an actual study habit. As for the other topics, Nino either wasn't taking them or else had no confidence that he'd be helpful in bringing Jun up to speed.
"Guess who lives in my neighborhood?" Nino said, making a blatant attempt at trying to change the topic. Sitting up in his seat, Jun gladly took the lifeline he was being thrown.
"Who?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in an attempt to ease his discomfort.
"Oh-chan," Nino said, though as the answer left his mouth he had the sudden thought that maybe he shouldn't have shared the information. That was kind of irrational though, right? It wasn't as though Ohno Satoshi's home address was a matter of national security.
Though the way Jun's eyes popped as he openly stared gave Nino reason for doubt.
Finally, Jun's brain seemed to process the information enough to respond. "You're just running into him all over the place, huh?"
"I guess now we know why," Nino laughed, shrugging as he turned to look up. Motion out of the corner of his eye had alerted him to their server coming, finally presenting them with food.
Nino took a happy sniff of his curry flavored ramen and thanking the server before she rushed off to the next table. Across from him, Jun arranged his own order of tonkatsu but still appeared distracted by what Nino had said.
"Ohno-san's a pretty interesting guy, huh?" Jun hummed, tapping his chopsticks lightly on the edge of the table before attempting to split them. He glared at them as the break was uneven, but took them in his right hand to use anyway.
"He's pretty cool, yeah," Nino nodded, though he was somewhat distracted by the matter of slurping up a sizable bite of his meal.
"He's also kind of scary, though," Jun remarked absently, dipping a strip of pork into the provided sauce.
Slurping up his most recent bite, Nino nearly choked as Jun's remark caused him to snort.
"Scary?" he gasped, grabbing a napkin to wipe a bit of broth off his chin. After getting through a light cough, Nino laughed at the very idea that Ohno was scary.
"I'm totally serious!" Jun tried to defend himself, though it was difficult to sound serious when Nino's giggling was infectious. "You get to see the sleepy Ohno-san! The one that's all quiet and nice and—"
"Is about as terrifying as a marshmallow," Nino interjected with a snort.
"Right," Jun nodded in agreement. "But that's just one side. There's the other Ohno-san, the choreographer Ohno-san. That's the one who's strict and really demanding, and every time you miss a step he gives you this look." Jun stopped his list to give an involuntary shudder, which only amused Nino more.
"It's not disappointment. Lots of people think disappointment is the worst thing, but Ohno-san doesn't look disappointed in you for messing up, he looks pissed. Don't laugh! It's not funny!" Despite his protest, Jun ended up joining Nino as he broke down into laughter once more.
Nino reached for his water as he tried to catch his breath, grinning all the while. Jun tried to further defend his point, but Nino didn't care enough to argue. He was too distracted by how good this felt. Their last lunch together had been incredibly brief, and while it had served as an emotional check-in, the end result had felt sort of awkward and sad. It was difficult to know that they were both struggling, but it was even worse to feel like there was nothing they could do to help one another (or themselves, even). Being able to laugh like this, and being able to get Jun to laugh just as hard, was an immense relief.
Lunch with Jun had been very good for Nino in many ways. It had helped him to feel connected to his friend again, it had let them both relax a little, they'd both gotten a chance to talk about things that they actually enjoyed; things that had absolutely nothing to do with school, or assignments, or the future. The entire afternoon had served as a great reminder to Nino what it was like to have a friend to commiserate with and talk to. It had also served to highlight the glaring and uncomfortable absence of any friends in his day-to-day life.
Nino could admit to having a lot of faults, but jealousy didn't tend to be one of them. Not that he was impervious to the emotion; he just generally didn't feel threatened by the majority of things that would make someone defensive in that way. So when he started to see more and more of Aiba Masaki at the lunch table that for years had been occupied almost exclusively by Jun and himself, Nino couldn't put a finger on why he had a problem with it. He actually liked Aiba! They got along well, he had a great sense of humor, and he was full of hilarious and embarrassing details about Jun's day that Nino otherwise wouldn't have been privy to. Which, now that he was thinking about it, Nino was pretty sure was actually part of the problem.
Nino had already accepted that they were both going to be busy this year. Jun seemed especially busy, being pulled back and forth between dance practice, voice lessons, and acting classes. Add to that regular school work and now tutoring, it was amazing that they'd managed to find time for lunch—nearly three weeks ago. And yet Jun seemed to have time for Aiba Masaki.
"So then Sho-chan comes home and shows me an invisible bruise on his side and tells me about how MatsuJun rushed in and kicked him out of the kitchen," Aiba finished reporting, giggling all the while.
"What was I supposed to do? How does a grown man fuck up something as simple as tea?" Jun defended himself, cheeks pink all the way back to his ears.
Rather than answer, Aiba clapped loudly as he laughed so hard he started to list to the side. Despite Jun's brow being creased with annoyance, Nino could see the laughter barely being restrained with a grin as he reached out to tug Aiba upright by his shirt sleeve again.
The entire exchange should have been great. Nino definitely saw the amusement in the situation; Jun trying to be a gracious host to an unexpected tutor (who was apparently also Aiba's roommate), only to lose his cool when his precious kitchen appliances became threatened. It was so very Jun and Nino wished he could have been there! He hadn't been, though. And while he knew that there was no reasonable way he could have or should have been involved, he couldn't help the hollow feeling of being out of the loop.
Doing his best not to let his unfounded melancholy show on his face, Nino forced a grin and a laugh.
"Yeah, J doesn't really understand boundaries very well," Nino attempted to contribute. He was starting to wonder if he should bother, though, because he was growing more uncomfortable by the minute being the odd man out.
"Oh shut up, you would have done the same!" Jun answered, though his response lacked any bite as he lost the fight to contain himself and gave a nasally giggle.
It was weird to see Jun so... Nino didn't even know how to describe it. He'd seen his friend happy in the past before, of course, but it had been a while since Jun had been this lively. Being that Nino cared about his friend and wanted him to be happy, Jun's behavior should have made him feel good. He should have been especially proud that Jun had managed to make a new friend, which had never been exactly easy. Instead, Nino was trying to ignore the niggling feeling that he was being replaced. Of course such a feeling was unfounded and ridiculous! Knowing he was being ridiculous wasn't exactly helpful, however. If anything trying to talk himself down from his jealousies only made him feel worse.
Not wanting his bad mood to taint the otherwise cheerful atmosphere, Nino started to prepare his things so he could leave. His attempts at being discreet, however, had apparently failed.
"Where're you going?" Jun asked as his attention was suddenly completely on Nino. While he cringed internally, Nino managed to keep his face impassive and he gave a shrug.
"I was going to head to the music wing to find a practice room for a nap," he answered with the first excuse that came to mind.
"Oh..." Jun said, and when Nino looked up he could see in Jun's face that his friend knew something was off.
"Too much Grand Theft Auto," Nino explained with a grin, flashing Jun and Aiba a pair of peace signs. "I've gotta catch some z's if I'm going to make it through math."
Jun didn't seem to believe him completely, but he didn't show any sign that he was about to call Nino out either.
"Sleep well, Nino-chan!" Aiba smiled brightly, waving to Nino from his place at Jun's side.
"I'll see you guys later," Nino managed to grin.
"See you," Jun answered, smiling at Nino and giving him a wave as well.
Nino picked up his guitar and hauled it along with him through the maze of tables and students. Once he was back in the main body of the school, however, he realized that he honestly had no idea where to go. His heart started to pound and face feel warm because it was starting to sink in how foolish and weird he'd been for just up and leaving the table. He couldn't exactly go back, though. That would have been even more awkward and embarrassing.
As his ears started to heat up in his agitation, Nino forced himself to keep staring straight ahead. He was acutely aware of the fact that to his right were the halls that would lead to the mirror-walled rooms for dance practice. He was also aware of the fact that he was pretty shitty company for anyone right now. Unconsciously clenching his jaw, Nino turned sharply to the left and marched purposefully toward the music wing.
Nino's mood did not improve as the day wore on. By the end he couldn't even focus on distracting himself with games, his DS sitting closed and silent on top of his desk as his knee bounced impatiently below. The moment the final bell rang, he shoved his belongings into his bags and rushed for the exit. The deluge of students around him only encouraged Nino to move more quickly, the imposing force of other humans causing his tension to spike. All he wanted to do was to leave and get some place where he could be alone.
Once he was on the train, earbuds tucked firmly in place, Nino's jitteriness began to abate. He scrolled through the music on his mp3-player, trying to find a tune or series of tunes that would help soothe his mind. While nothing he came across really hit the spot, the activity kept him occupied for the duration of his ride home and soon enough he was trekking up the short walk to his front door.
Afternoon sunlight peeked through the gaps of drawn shades, stretching long spindly fingers of gold across pristine hardwood and soft blue walls adorned with framed photos. Smiling faces peered out at Nino silently as he passed them on his way to the stairs. He'd passed them so many times that they'd grown strange in their familiarity, a collection of memories he should have felt something for but didn't.
The furnishings were well kept; all wood dusted and polished, and all pillows fluffed and plump. Silk flowers stood in a glass vase on an end table and near the sizeable television. The living room alone could have come straight out of a catalogue—it looked just about as lived in. It bore no resemblance to the rooms in several of the photos standing on shelves and hanging from walls. A house with floor mats and nondescript rugs, with hand-me-down tables and chairs that had been old before Nino had ever been born. The older the photos the less the home resembled its current state. The younger the faces, the less they reflected their current lives.
Climbing the stairs to his room, Nino closed the door against the emptiness and the silence behind him. Dropping his school bag on the floor by his desk, Nino was only slightly gentler with his guitar before flinging himself onto the bed. He didn't expect to sleep but he did hope that closing his eyes and tuning out the world would help him pull himself together. Rolling onto his back, Nino draped an arm over his eyes and took deep, slow breaths as he did his best to relax. Though he turned his music off, he left his earbuds in, more comfortable with the muffled sound of his own breathing than with the quiet.
Nino woke with a start when the front door slammed shut heavily under its own weight. His heart raced, painful and uncomfortable in his chest as his mind tried to catch up with his body. Through his door he could hear the echo of footsteps and voices, objects being discarded heavily on tables or counters. Although annoying, the sounds were dull enough that Nino was able to lie back against his pillow again, ready to give up on trying to be awake for just a little bit longer.
"Why is it that wherever I go I am surrounded by FILTH AND STUPIDITY?"
His father's voice spiking in volume would have been enough rouse Nino, but the crash of dishes being thrown into the metal kitchen sink made sure that he wouldn't be able to ignore the voices downstairs. Sitting up with a sigh, Nino pulled his earbuds out of his ear before rubbing his neck and looking at the shadowed walls of his bedroom mindlessly. There were no posters hanging, all of them having been taken down two years ago when he'd stapled empty egg cartons from wall to wall in an attempt to soundproof his room. Unfortunately he'd been all of 15 and hadn't really understood the physics of sound well enough to know that it was an essentially useless endeavor.
"Will you calm down?" He heard his mother say with barely veiled annoyance. He could see her in his mind's eye, donning her house apron after having spent all day in one for work.
"I will not 'calm down'! Do you have any idea how difficult it's going to be to find a new sous chef that's worth a damn?"
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Nino fumbled about in his bedding in search of his MP3 player. Fishing it out of the sheets, Nino checked its battery as he stood, stretching with his arms up into the air. As he moved the few steps to turn on the lamp at his desk, the sound of softer, still tense voices drifted up through the floor, punctuated by the violent snap of cabinets being opened and closed with excessive force. Nino dropped himself down into his desk chair heavily, scratching at his neck with one hand while the other reached for the second-hand studio headphones with frayed foam earcups that sat atop his stereo with the other.
"Would you get out?"
"Get out?!"
Another slam as something heavy hit a counter. Any pretense of staying civil evaporated as Nino's mother raised her voice. "Yes! Get out! I need to make dinner, you are in my way. Go! Leave!"
There was a beat of silence charged with all of the atmospheric tension of an oncoming electrical storm. Nino picked stray hairs out of the foam headband of his headphones, settling the heavy set on his head right as the first crack of lightning hit.
"WHOSE KITCHEN DO YOU THI—"
While the bellowing dropped several decibels, Nino still turned on his stereo and cranked the volume. Normally he hated having it so loud, the insulation of the headphones making his ears ache after only a few minutes of listening. The way he figured it, though, anything was better than having to focus on his parents' verbal warfare. Closing his eyes, Nino breathed deeply as he focused on the melody and lyrics.
He'd gotten lucky that the track playing was something somewhat energetic, but it wasn't right for his mood. As with earlier, his attention drifted after only a minute or so of listening, his fingers tapping out a distracted rhythm on the edge of his desk as the conflict downstairs remained audible just beneath the music. The longer he tried the less he wanted anything to do with the song that was playing, or the one after it. The beat that had taken over his fingers (and spread to a hastily tapping foot), however, was a compelling enough alternative.
Nino turned his stereo off, unplugging the heavy connector before twisting in his chair to plug his headphones into the jack on his amp.
"What did you expect? That because you're chef, you're god? NO ONE WANTS TO WORK WITH YOU!"
The amp came to life with an electric click and an audible buzz. Adjusting the various nobs and dials, Nino pulled his acoustic-electric guitar from its stand. Bending his head over the neck, Nino found his pick and tested the tuning. Mouthing a silent countdown, Nino struck the first chord hard and loud, managing to distort his father's likely belligerent response.
The notes did not come seamlessly, each bar sharp and tight. Every few beats at the start there was a sour note, but Nino's hands kept moving. There was no polish, nothing pretty about the music he was making. His fingers maneuvered deftly along the frets, pulling an angry twang from the strings as the melody vibrated against his chest and set his heart racing. He could hear a beat in the music, the tune shifting rhythmically; jumping and writhing like an open flame, but with more force. It felt as though it had the weight of a person, moving light and quick with controlled twists and sharp pauses, but always, always in motion.
Nino's fingers began to tire, his hands hurting even as they moved faster and faster. He was losing the song; the chords running into one another as his tempo manage to jump the tracks. He stopped with a panicked jolt as a door down the hallway from him closed with a resounding SLAM! Realizing that his breathing was shallow and quick and his heart was thundering against his ribs, Nino dragged his headphones off and replaced his instrument on its stand. His ears were ringing, which probably should have hurt but didn't.
When the tininess faded to a subtle buzz, Nino could hear enough to know that the yelling was over. Able to read the tension in the house without even leaving his room, however, he could also tell that the fight was still ongoing. It took him a moment to gain his bearings enough to grab a coat from his closet and slip it on before quietly but rapidly descending the stairs. He didn't have to look around the corner to know that the person loudly forcing pots and pans about while water ran in the kitchen sink was probably his father. Not stopping to investigate, Nino slipped into his shoes and out the front door without a word.
Outside it was already dark and impressively chilly. Nino was grateful for the cold, though, breathing in several deep lungfuls of it in an attempt to combat his anxious heart. He walked briskly through the neighborhood streets, not so much confident in where he was going as he was ambivalent. After putting several blocks between himself and his home, the buzzing had eventually faded and he was able to hear normally again. His pace slowed and rather than continue to race through the night he began to meander down the abandoned streets. As he came around a wide corner lined with the occasional streetlamp he slowed to an inadvertent stop.
At first he had stopped just to look around and figure out where he'd ended up. Nino knew the neighborhood fairly well, but he hadn't been keeping track of which direction he'd been headed. As he searched for a familiar landmark his attention was drawn to a figure the moved across the street.
Ohno Satoshi had a fair sized bag of plastic recyclables in-hand as he walked to the end of his home's short driveway. Nino tensed momentarily, frozen as he resisted the urge to immediately turn back the way he'd come from. While there wasn't any logical reason for him to flee at first, his mind soon began filling in justification. The top of the list was that he didn't want to come off like a real stalker, especially not after how he'd teased Ohno. It had nothing to do with the fact that Nino wasn't sure he'd be able to keep all of the unpleasantness of his day to himself. Though as Ohno not only looked in his direction but then started to wave Nino figured that he didn't have much of a choice anymore.
Waving back, Nino gave a smile that was tight at first but softened as he crossed the street and was greeted by quiet, surprised laughter.
"Hi," Ohno grinned, placing one hand on his hip and seeming to forget the task (literally) at hand.
Nino had considered simply saying hello and then goodbye. It would have been easy enough to excuse himself and just go home; it had to be fairly late in the evening, after all. As soon as he'd come to a stop, however, he gave up on any such plan. It'd been thirty seconds and one word and this had already been the best part of his day.
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Chapter 14: Credentials | Chapter 16: Working Hard
