Better Than Love (one-shot)
Sep. 18th, 2010 12:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
awesomechick15title: Better Than Love
author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
awesomechick15
pairing: Jin/Kame, Kame/OC
rating: R
genre: romance, angst, drama, fluff-ish, flashback
disclaimer: I don't own anyone from JE, but I do own all the other characters and the story.
word count: 8,632
warnings: -
summary: It was almost like his whole life was formed by silences.
Kame's life takes a drastic turn to hell, and takes him back down the memory lane.
A/N: I know it's not good promotion to say you dislike or hate your own fic. But OH MY GOD DO I HATE HIS ONE, SERIOUSLY. We didn't synch from the start, somehow, and for real - if this fic was a person, I would beat it to death with my bare hands and a toothbrush. Anyway, this is a prompt from my friend Aliisa and even though there's a little chance she'll read this, FUCK YOU WOMAN, FUCK YOU. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP ME? YOUR PROMPT. :----------------( (Though she deserves credit for the prompt word, pregnant, and being the target of my aggression while writing this. Poor girl sits next to me in our history class.)
As a warning, there's going to be lots of silences. And Kame on his kitchen floor. And no plot whatsoever. And LENGTH I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING BUT DRABBLES IN, LIKE. AGES.
Oh dear God. Here we go.
”Kazu, I need to talk to you.”
He took the hint as soon as it left her lips. He dropped the files and scripts he was working on and turned around on his chair. It wasn't really her phrase that made him move, but the tone of her voice - it was slightly frantic, yet she was obviously trying to sound and appear as calm and collected. A clear sign of trouble. Her eyes were frantic, searching for a spot to stick to, and Kame could see a tracing line of sweat on her neck.
The sight was rather unnerving. There wasn't many times Kame had seen her like this.
”What is it?” he asked, almost suspicious, and attempted to find the answer from her anxious face. No success.
”I don't know how I should say this,” she said, her voice trembling, making Kame shiver as dark thoughts started crossing his mind, each one worse than other. She was dying? She was cheating on him? She wanted to break up? He tried to prepare himself for whatever was coming.
It was easy. With his willpower, he could endure many things, including bad news. He was actually almost always prepared for the worst, for the maximum endurance.
But nothing could have prepared him for the shaky whisper following her words.
”I'm pregnant.”
His mind went blank.
There was one thing you wanted to avoid in Johnny's. One thing above everything else, above drug scandals, fights, girlfriends, snoopy paparazzis and stalkers, drunken nights and being caught naked. One thing.
Getting someone pregnant.
It was so avoided the whole topic was forming into a taboo. A horror story amongst innocent juniors. No one dared to talk about it, and everyone made sure their asses wouldn't be on Kitagawa's target line after a stupid one-night stand or a crazy gold digger girlfriend they weren't even engaged with. And now, Kamenashi Kazuya, the Golden Boy, had managed to do it.
Asuka wasn't even psycho, goddamn it.
Panic began to rise in his chest like a wave. What would happen now? Would she want to keep it, would she want to leave and never see him again and get all his money? What would he say to Johnny then? What would happen to his career? Would he be suspended? Would he have to marry her? What about the kid, could he raise one? And what about his family, his mother would behead him for sure!
Oh Lord. He couldn't do this. It was so simple it nearly made him cry; he artlessly couldn't do this, not now, not probably ever. There was no mental strength or preparement in him for this. There was no way he could ever go through everything. Or this moment, to be exact. This was partly why he stayed silent for a good ten seconds, Asuka's stare burning his skin, and then said something that would surely change his life. Make this moment stick to his memory. It was a mistake, one of those you rewinded all over again in your mind, feeling anguished for not being able to change them. Those words.
”It's not mine.”
As soon as he had said them, he wanted to take them back. It was mostly because of Asuka's face, those shocked, stunned eyes that were looking at him like a complete stranger. He felt the burn of guilt in his chest. She didn't deserve any of this, he could tell by the silence following.
Because that silence – it was deep. For a moment Kame was certain the time had stopped. They just sat there, both not believing those words had been said aloud, that from all the people Kame had said them. The ever-gentle Kame, who with all his flaws and perfectionism didn't want to really hurt anyone. Shock was more than obvious on Asuka's face, her features and appearance. She didn't want to believe it. Neither did Kame, but they didn't have a choice.
Her shocked phase didn't last long. Soon her eyes started to turn angry. Furious, even. She was trembling again, from completely different reasons this time, wakening worry in Kame to live with the growing guilt.
”Fuck you,” she spat so suddenly it made Kame flinch. ”Fuck you, Kamenashi. I knew you were a workaholic, cold-hearted, self-centered bastard, but at least I thought you could be a man and take your responsibility. Fuck you.”
Before Kame could answer, take the long sentence in, she had stood up, taken her coat and turned her back to him. Not that he would have – he didn't have anything to say. For the very first time in so many years he was actually left speechless.
The sound of her footsteps and the loud, raw bang of the door were slowly strangling him.
When you're young, you don't realize what's out there. You never do. You notice something lurking behind the corner, waiting for you to grow up and understand what a cruel place the world can be, but never pay real attention to it. You have troubles, but when you later remember them with warmth, they seem so small and vain your youth gets a silver lining.
When young, Kame was the worrying kind. He was dorky, he was gawky, everything a normal teenage boy should be and more. But secretly inside the depths of his mind, the ones not filled with awkward sexual encounters and fantasies, he worried. A lot. About everything, to be truthful – from his mother's health to his future. From the closing times of his local shop and the exact returnal day of his rental video to the Kame ten years later.
It was easy to tell when he was worrying. There was a frown between his brows, making his face look dark and unflattering. His lips were pursed and he was usually cracking his fingers unconsciously. There were some little twitches on the corners of his mouth, and his muscles were tense yet absolutely unaware of all movements and happenings around him.
Jin always knew when he was worrying. Different to others, the boy knew something else, too. How to soothe him, how to make him feel better, make him forget.
That was the first thing about Jin Kame really fell in love with. His concern. The way his breathing tickled Kame's neck, the way he brushed Kame's bangs aside and blinded his eyes with that bright smile of his. His voice, the soothing words falling from his lips – Kame never paid attention to his words, because Jin often sounded a lot less cooler with them, but his voice was a different thing. Kame could have kept listening to it for eternity.
Jin was his drug, his addiction, his own silver lining of youth. The memory of happiness and long summer nights. The memory he wanted to go back to.
When he thought about it, he hadn't been lonely in ages. It was weird, actually. Even when he was alone in the dark corners of his luxurious apartment, he never felt empty. Never felt like something was missing. That was probably because he always had company. If it wasn't a good bottle of wine or a friend, it was work. He never had time to notice he was alone when it was already time to go act social and professional again, time to get out of his home.
But now it was different. He didn't feel like wanting alcohol, even though the lulling blur would have felt pleasant. He didn't feel like working or practicing either, and all the papers – files, scripts, whatever – were sprawled on his kitchen table, looking so painfully aversive he couldn't look at them without feeling anxiety brushing his sides.
The floor was cold. It always was, he just hadn't paid attention to it before. His apartment felt huge, like an endless series of rooms with high ceilings and wide windows. When he looked outside, he could see the lights of Tokyo, the city pulsing around him. He was too small, too weak for its speed.
When one doesn't know what to do, instincts take control. It's the reason why we run when it feels like our legs aren't working, why our lungs keep fighting for air when the last thing we want to do is to breathe. It was one of those instincts that made Kame grab his cell phone. It had to be.
Because there was no way, just no fucking way he would call Jin in the middle of the night or whatever time it was in Los Angeles otherwise, absolutely no way. They didn't do that, Kame didn't do that, it wasn't acceptable or--
The monotone ringing in his ears made him stop and press the phone harder against his ear. Fuck it.
In the end he wasn't sure how long it took Jin to pick up. Maybe thirty seconds, maybe a few minutes. Kame didn't think about it, he just stared the city lying beneath him, leaning his forehead against the cold glass of his kitchen window. Even kitchens were confusingly heartless and chilly on midnight, he noticed.
”Yes?” a sleepy, mumbled voice said, a bit hoarse but loud enough to hear.
”Jin?” Kame asked, feeling shivers going down his spine, not even realizing the other one was speaking English.
”Yeah,” the voice answered, obviously confused and still hazy from sleep, but finally changing to his native tongue. ”Who is this?”
”It's me,” Kame whispered and immediately felt like hitting himself. ”Kamenashi, I mean.”
”Oh,” Jin said simply, sounding a little too surprised. ”Oh.”
”I just. I wanted to say hi.”
”Right. Um... Hi.”
”How's L.A.?” Kame asked, pressing the phone slightly closer to his ear. Coldness was creeping in.
”It's fine,” Jin stated, and he would have shrugged if they could have seen each other. Kame knew it. ”Just like four years ago. I like it here.”
”Oh. That's... that's good.”
”Is there a reason you're calling? It's eight in the morning here, so in there it's... what, midnight?”
”No. Or, well. Yes.”
”Is something wrong?”
Because you don't call me otherwise, Kame ended Jin's sentence in his mind. It felt so bittersweet it was almost too hard to bear.
”Asuka... She's...”
”Did something happen?”
”Asuka's pregnant.”
Was it right to tell Jin? Was it a wrong move? Kame didn't know, and he was certain he wasn't going to get any straight answers. It was already obvious from the way the line went silent for a few seconds. Maybe there just wasn't anything to screw up anymore. Only damaged people and dust.
”Wow. That's just... Wow. Congratulations, I guess.”
”You don't sound too congratulative.”
”You don't sound too happy about it.”
”You alright?”
It was Jin. Kame turned his head to look at him and felt a smile creep its way on his face. He nodded and watched Jin sit on the chair next to him.
”You're finished?” Kame asked, tilting his head curiously.
”Yup,” Jin grinned and tugged the collar of his black school uniform. ”Soon off to change.”
”Let's go somewhere then,” Kame smirked and stood up. ”I'm finished too.”
”You wrapped the scene with Nakama?”
”Would I be here if I didn't?”
There were some advantages when filming a drama. For example sliding work hours when everything went well enough. They left the shooting location after changing, ignoring the fact they had own arranged rides home. They were still young, they could walk. At least to the closest bus stop.
Jin was pretty with his dark, curly hair. He really was, though Kame knew the boy would punch him if he ever said it aloud. Kame liked his own hair, too – being a redhead was quite fun, actually. Ryu's role included multiple benefits, nice hair being one of them.
Walking aimlessly around the streets was relaxing. To passersby they looked like any random teenagers, perhaps coming back from school or work, if they used their imagination. Kame laughed automatically but genuinely at a joke Jin made, although he didn't really listen to the joke itself – Jin's gags were generally lame. What made Kame laugh wholeheartedly was Jin's smile, the one with a mischievous edge to it and sparkles in his eyes. It was Kame's ultimate favorite by far.
Usually on free afternoons they went to quiet cafés, the ones where customers were as old as time, and no one could recognize them even if their lives depended on it. This afternoon was a different one. It was warm and sunny, not a cloud in the sky – kind of rare, considering how low temperatures were. Days like these couldn't be wasted. It would've been wrong. Therefore they walked into a park close by, a small and cozy one with birds and old ladies feeding them, the kind of park you see in Western films all the time. It was a secluded place, no one around, noises of the city drown out.
Kame laughed again when instead of sitting on a bench Jin threw himself over the rather well-maintained grass, limbs sprawled in different directions. As he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, Kame sat next to him, feeling sunbeams on his neck. It was liberating. Kame loved it when all he had to do was to lay back and be himself. When he wasn't Kamenashi from Johnny's, but another good-for-nothing boy without anything better to do than lazing around parks.
”You love this, don't you?”
The voice came so out of nowhere it made Kame turn his head rapidly. The speaker was Jin, of course. He had opened an eye and was smiling again, his expression annoyingly knowing. It didn't fit him, Jin was better off with a clueless face.
”You love this freedom.”
”So do you,” Kame said quietly and laid down, grass tickling his back.
For a moment there was utter silence. All they could hear was birds, traffic somewhere far away and wind howling high above them. Silence.
”Don't we have a scene like this?” Jin suddenly asked, his voice wondering.
”What do you mean?” Kame answered with a question, looking at Jin from the corner of his eye.
”Where Ryu and Hayato lie on the ground,” the latter explained, ”on grass or something. I remember at least reading about it.”
”Might be.”
”Ka-me, you're no fun,” he complained and turned on his side so he could face his friend. ”You should talk more!”
”You're just too loud,” Kame rolled his eyes.
”That's not a nice thing to say,” Jin protested and huffed. ”Kamenashi, you should have people skills. If you stay like this, I'm going to take all the attention from girls. Even Nakamaru will have more fans than you.”
”That's not nice either,” Kame shot back and grinned. ”But don't worry about me, there's no way any girl would ever like you, Bakanishi.”
”Hey, take that back! And don't use that name!”
Jin's exclaim didn't have the desired effect. Instead of complying, Kame exploded in laughter and started to repeat the mock name over and over again in different tones, drowning all protests under his voice. They had to be a strange pair to look at, Kame shouting the same name and Jin screaming absurd objections, trying to make his friend stop.
When he couldn't use words, the latter soon got fed up with wasting his voice. He pouted and grabbed Kame's wrists, straddling him without much difficulties; the other boy was completely defenseless. Even the actions made Kame only laugh harder, and his attempts to pull his wrists free were vain.
”Bakanishi!”
”Shut up!”
His screams didn't do any significant difference. Jin grew frustrated, and felt already desperate when another mocking Bakanishi found its way to his ears. There was only one thing left to do, to make Kame finally shut up. To get Jin win.
When he pressed his lips against Kame's, every noise seemed to quiet down. No birds, no wind, no traffic. The kiss was clumsy, all awkward lips and shaking limbs, hair tickling neck and cheeks. But it was a kiss, and when Jin realized what he was doing, he quickly pulled away from Kame, feeling both stupid and embarrassed.
It was still quiet. Jin could feel Kame's shocked stare and the hotness of his flushed face. The silence was horrifying, like standing on an edge of a cliff, waiting for falling – and Jin had never liked falling, the feeling of his heart pounding so hard he feared it might come out of his chest.
Kame opened his mouth and then closed it again. A smile started to form on his lips, curling them and making him look less stunned, less terrified.
”Jin,” he said peacefully, completely ignoring what a trembling mess the boy was above him, ”you're a bad kisser.”
There are moments in your life when you realize something much bigger than you is beginning. This was one of those moments, and Jin knew it. The feeling resembled falling, to his surprise. He had jumped – or more like someone had pushed him.
”Then teach me.”
”You alright?”
Kame could barely suppress a flinch, when those words registered in his conscious. He didn't look at the person talking, only shrugged. The backstage was a busy storm of stress, loud noises and hairspray everywhere. He felt Koki's weight on the couch as the other man sat on it.
”Have you talked to Asuka?” he asked, sounding both worried and curious.
”No,” Kame answered heartlessly and kept staring insistently on the surface of the table in front of them.
”It's your kid. If I was you, I–”
”Koki, please leave me alone. I don't need your advice.”
It wasn't Koki's fault, Kame reminded himself as the man left without a word, obviously at least irritated, if not more. It wasn't, and he didn't deserve the treatment either. But Kame was too weak, too powerless to listen. He couldn't deal with any of this. Koki should have known that.
The lack of Jin in the dressing room was remarkable.
Kame had never been skilled in the art of dating. There had been some girls, but there was absolutely no way to rehearse for secretly dating your bandmate who was, accordingly, a member of the same sex. Kame hated the feeling of being lost, simply hated it, but with Jin it was a little better. That was the point. With Jin.
There was lots of risks. Many things on stake, most of them ones not a single person in their right mind wanted to lose. It was exciting, intoxicating, but also intimidating. The thought of being caught didn't leave his mind for a minute, but the difference was, it wasn't the only one.
Jin still looked pretty. They hadn't cut his hair, and it was still dark, messy locks creating a contrast against white sheets. Yes, Jin was pretty in anything and anywhere. Especially asleep, when all his resistance and energy was gone, when he looked peaceful and calm for once. It had to be a little creepy, actually – Kame watching him sleep. Very creepy if you didn't know them. But Kame liked, enjoyed watching Jin, his own small bubble of voyeurism.
The room was cozy – no surprise, considering Jin had a habit of making himself home anywhere he stayed. Posters on the walls, messy sheets (not caused by them, at least) and clothes all over. It was like he used his floor instead of his wardrobe. But Kame still felt warm and at home – it certainly wasn't the first time he was at Jin's or slept over. Nowadays it was just a little bit different, but the feeling was the same. They didn't have sex, they never did and Kame couldn't say he really felt like it, so they weren't lovers, but they weren't only friends either.
”Whatcha lookin' at?”
The murmur was so low Kame almost missed it. He snorted and ran his fingers through Jin's hair, nearly sure he heard something resembling a purr.
”You're drooling,” he snickered and poked his friend's cheek.
”'m not,” Jin protested weakly, but wiped his mouth anyway, curling an arm around Kame's waist and pulling him closer. ”Liar.”
”Idiot,” the latter mumbled, but couldn't bring himself to sound that angry or annoyed. Instead he nuzzled against Jin, breathing in his scent and trying to take advantage of his warmth.
”You're clingy,” the dark-haired boy complained. ”It's so not hot.”
”Bakanishi,” Kame whispered in his neck and kissed his earlobe.
”Shut up.”
Jin's retort was, again, powerless as he properly wrapped his arms around Kame.
Kame was usually good at handling crisis. His ability to fight stress made his mind always clear and rational. He was Kamenashi, and his professionalism in pretty much everything made him strong – like said, he was always prepared like a twisted boy scout.
Except for this, among other things. When he looked at Asuka, her seemingly withdrawn eyes and tense being, he could not help but wonder how they had gotten there. Next to Asuka was sitting a man in his early forties, dressed in a suit, his hair put down with what seemed to be a few liters of gel. Kame hated him from the very beginning, Asuka's lawyer Makoto and his monotone voice, serious face and soulless eyes. And that damn suitcase he carried around like it was a family jewel.
Kame's own lawyer was no better, though. A woman named Yamane, approximately a bit older than Makoto. Kame hadn't seen that many female lawyers around, but Yamane worked under Kitagawa. He had heard her name before, connected to different scandals and law suits over the years. They said she was the best their company had, and Kame sincerely wanted to believe so.
So far she seemed good. Not that Kame would have known, since his experience with lawyers was extremely limited. She was strict and professional and didn't give him the bad eye everyone else seemed to do. They didn't have much defense yet because Asuka hadn't told what she wanted. Now was the time, and it made Kame nauseous, nervous thoughts pressing his mood.
As he sat there and tried to catch a glimpse of the Asuka he knew, guilt began to burn his insides again.
After that night everything had happened fast. When Kame didn't apologize or contact her, Asuka took action. It was understandable. That was what he had always liked about her, the way she took priorities and acted with sense even when the situation was critical. Many mistook her as an optimist for her usually sunny attitude and undying smiles, but he knew better. She was a realist. And a realist wanted as good conditions for her child as possible with any ways she could use.
In good old Johnny's fashion, the company wanted to solve everything quietly and as obscure as possible. With money and contracts. They wanted to make Asuka disappear. Kame still remembered the silence after his announcement in the management room. Still remembered the blind fear he had felt when they made him see Kitagawa alone, like he was a helpless prey being pushed into a predator's cage.
”We wish to settle,” Yamane's sharp voice broke the silence in the conference room.
Whatever was going to happen, it had now begun.
Jin could literally feel the coldness radiating from Kame.
No, not coldness – ignorance, nonchalance. He was sure that if he tried, he could touch the mental barriers and walls the younger one had set around himself. That closed face, empty, glassy eyes, completely calm appearance and yet such a distant aura. And did he want to. He wanted to break in, see if everything was still intact, still waiting for him.
But the answer was already clear on Kame's face.
There was nothing left anymore. Only ruins and ashes.
Of course they had a chance of building something new together, or so Jin wanted to believe. Something fragile and sensitive, something that could be broken down by a single breeze of wind or collapsed by a soft touch. It could last for a while, but the fact was, ashes didn't support anything new.
It would fall down again in time.
Jin flinched at the cold, drone voices around the table. He had to rip his gaze away from Kame and set it to the wooden surface of furniture. Every look was dangerous, like standing on a cliff, ready to jump, fall into eternity.
At that time, Jin honestly wanted to just jump.
Kame should have expected it sooner. He should have taken the initiative himself, to be exact – if he was a good, soulful person, which he didn't feel like at all. He didn't how she knew, but he wasn't surprised when he got a call from his mother. He was rather lucky for not having to deal with the press, for having contacts so reliable not one outsider knew a thing. But his mother wasn't an outsider. No one from his family was.
When the call came, he was currently in his kitchen. Lying on his kitchen floor, if you wanted to get on details. He had stopped using such vanities as tables or chairs whenever he was alone after admitting nothing was alright. He didn't feel like sitting or keeping his posture. He only wanted to lie down, close his eyes and wait for a hundred years of dreamless sleep.
He felt his phone vibrating in the pocket of his denim jeans and pulled it out, lazy and slow, opening it and pressing it against his ear.
”Hi,” he said without a clue of who was on the phone. He didn't really care either. He had opened a few cans of beer earlier and the warm, cozy haze of alcohol was covering his world.
”Kazuya,” a familiar voice whispered from the other line and Kame could feel blood freezing in his veins.
”Mom,” he startled, sitting up unconsciously, ruffling his hair.
”I got a call from Asuka,” she sighed. It was a certain type of sigh: not content, not disappointed either. An exhausted one. One telling she had given up before beginning.
”I see,” Kame mumbled, trying to clear his vision and collect his thoughts.
There was a silence. He was starting to get used to them. It was almost like his whole life was formed by silences. Silences with different lengths and feelings, silences separating time.
”She sounded very serious,” his mother said suddenly. ”Even more determined than usual. A little angry too. And speaking straight, I understand her well.”
”Yeah,” Kame answered lowly. He couldn't think up anything to say.
”Can you tell me what happened?”
”She didn't?”
”Oh, she did, but... I want to hear your version. Of everything. She told me you said some horrible things to her and that's not like you, Kazuya. I know you.”
”I did say something,” he took the turn to sigh. ”And when I didn't take it back even in time, she... well. You know.”
”And you haven't tried to stop her? Talk to her?”
”No.”
Another silence. This time it was short, almost like a long pause, but still identifiable as a silence.
”Explain it to me,” his mother finally said, and surrender had never been so blatant in her voice.
Kame did. Partly out of responsibility, partly out of the need to let everything out. To talk to someone, even if it was his mother – someone he had, with love and respect of course, never counted as a person to open up to.
He told her everything. Everything from the first moment, of how Asuka told she was pregnant – and how he answered, simply and coldly. And how he was afraid, so fucking afraid it sometimes felt like he couldn't breathe. And how everything had happened so fast he still wasn't sure it was real. How he hated Asuka's lawyer, hated the fact Asuka had turned her back on him the moment he felt hesitation. Even though he knew she had her reasons.
It didn't feel good to talk. It made him face his own fears and thoughts, and he couldn't believe he was actually telling them to someone at the same time. No, it didn't free him or whatever it was supposed to do. But it didn't damage him either, and it cleared his mind, as much as he wanted to keep it blurry and unreasonable. He had always wanted kids, but not right now.
He said it aloud, his voice shaky and weak, and then it hit him.
It wasn't the timing. It wasn't the abruptness: he did want children.
Just not with Asuka.
When Kame first met her, he felt nothing.
It was during his One Pound Gospel shooting. He couldn't remember much details from that time: the stress level of those months was overwhelming even to him, and all the memories were hasty and blurry, like shaken photographs in the back of your book shelf. He couldn't remember the color of her shirt or what she was holding in her hands.
Yes, holding. Kame's and Asuka's first meeting was like from a mushy romantic comedy. He had ended shooting for that day, and was trying to push through staff on a crowded hallway. They turned out for him, of course – he was Kamenashi, after all. He was tired, almost exhausted, and on a rather snappy mood. Not really because of his fatigue though, but because he was actually tired enough to admit it to himself.
And then it happened, that classic move always played by glamorous Hollywood actors who held plastic smiles on red carpets and got paid with millions of dollars. When Kame was about to turn left, something coming from behind the corner hit him. Someone. With a surprised yelp he took a few steps back, but maintained his balance. The other party wasn't as lucky and suddenly Kame had an armful of what turned out to be co-writer on him. Later he couldn't remember if he caught her voluntarily or if she just fell on his arms, but the difference wasn't big.
”You okay?” he asked self-actingly, and she nodded, standing up on her own. He caught a glimpse of her face, then – that he could remember well.
There was always something mismatching on Asuka's face. Her features were soft: full lips, small and cute nose, low cheekbones. Her eyes were an exception: they were sharp and intelligent, framed by thin eyebrows and black, straight hair falling on her shoulders. She wasn't beautiful, no, not by any means, but on the other side, someone calling her ugly obviously didn't have eyes.
”I'm sorry,” she said and bowed deeply, then dropping to her knees. It wasn't until then Kame noticed she had been carrying something. It might have been papers, or books, or maybe CDs – he couldn't tell, not anymore. Nonetheless he dropped down, too, and wordlessly started to help her out. He could feel her incredulous stare, but didn't care.
After a moment and ten unidentified objects later he stood up, followed by her.
”What's your name?” he asked suddenly. He couldn't really explain it to himself. He didn't usually ask things like these, mostly because people often mistook it as flirting. So did obviously this woman, but he didn't bother to correct her. He needed a friend, weird accusations could be made later.
”Fujimoto Asuka,” she answered, blinking and staring at him like an alien.
She didn't seem like one of those innocent, gentle girls you see in mangas – the ones that can't believe the ikemen has talked to them, only them. He could see what she was thinking about. She was wondering what his motives were, what did he want – was it money, a contract? Why would a Johnny's star want something from her?
”You're going to the same direction?”
That was how it began. It was his own damn fault.
Maybe it was out of loneliness again. It was the best excuse he had after ending the call with his mother. Naturally it was weird to feel lonely when you had just talked to someone, but with people such as her he tended to get only more isolated and distant. He still hadn't gotten up from the kitchen floor, and didn't bother now either. Instead he fell to lie on his back again, stomach slightly rumbling and alcohol still blurring his vision.
Yes, it definitely was out of loneliness. And booze. There was no other way he could have picked Jin's number from speed dial (why was he in the speed dial anyway?) and pressed the phone against his ear once again, waiting silently.
“Hi,” a familiar, soft voice said. It was obvious Jin wasn't nearly as surprised about Kame's call as the last time. Almost like he had been expecting it.
“I don't want to be here,” Kame whispered, not sure if Jin could hear him.
It didn't make sense, and he had just called and probably woken him up and didn't even say hi and oh God, it was Jin, once so close and warm, now only a person in Kame's own private history book, dusty, old, painful memories. It was Jin, and Kame had absolutely no right to call him from across the world on inhuman hours and start whining.
“I know,” a patient, still soft answer came, and Jin was being so calm it was depressing. “Kame, are you drunk?”
Fuck, so the bastard still knew him after all. And called him by nickname. It felt good, and Kame wanted to smack himself for that.
“No,” he protested straight away, but after a few seconds sighed quietly. “A little bit. But... It has nothing to do with this. I'm not that drunk.”
“I know.”
It was almost like being stabbed in stomach. And it didn't make sense either, because it wasn't Kame's fault. Kame didn't break them, tear them apart, and why was he thinking about stuff that had happened years ago and wasn't thinkable or fixable anymore? He should have drunk tea instead.
“I want to go home,” his murmur sounded pathetic even in his own ears.
“Where are you?” Jin asked, his tone worried now, and it was so wrong because Jin had no right to this phone call either. To be truthful, his rights were more narrow than Kame's.
“At my apartment,” the latter answered. “But I'm not home.”
“Neither am I,” Jin mumbled, and it made Kame stop everything for a moment. Thinking, breathing, processing. Everything. It was probably the first time Jin ever admitted aloud that his beloved L.A. wasn't entirely a paradise. To Kame, at least.
He hummed, feeling the alcohol prickle in his veins, and opened his mouth, saying the first thing coming from his lips.
“Where are you then?”
It was a stupid, obvious question with a possibly stupid answer. Kame didn't mind that much, not after he heard the response.
“Somewhere I don't want to be,” Jin said, his voice low and worn. It made Kame startle: he didn't get confused very often, but somehow Jin had always held the ability to make him fall off track.
“But you love America,” he blurted out.
“Does it matter anymore, Kame? Do you think anyone cares?”
“Yes,” his response came slightly late. “I do.”
It was a bit like being sucked into a vacuum. Not that Kame had the prior experience, but still. He could feel how Jin tensed, how the man didn't know how to answer. He still knew from thousands of miles away. It should have been a good thing, even flattering, but considering the circumstances Kame was only disappointed in himself. He didn't need this.
“You shouldn't,” Jin stated the obvious.
“That's probably true,” Kame tried to sound as neutral as possible. “But I'm a fool, you know that.”
“You're not a fool.”
“I wish I was.”
The vacuum appeared again, sucking in all thoughts, all responses, absolutely everything from both of them. Kame had no idea where the seemingly pointless conversation was going, but he didn't have the desire to hang up either. That was already one thing making him a fool, since the phone call wasn't exactly cheap.
“I miss you,” Jin's quiet voice echoed in Kame's kitchen.
There it was. The line. The words both of them thought about, serious or not, but weren't allowed to say. Not by themselves or anyone else. It actually made Kame a little angry: he had kept himself collected for so long, hidden behind the masks and actually tried, but what did Jin do? He was like a small child on a playground, no sense of reality. Which was, in this case, harder than it should have been.
“Bye.”
Before he could even process the reaction through his brain, Kame had already hung up on Jin. Loneliness started to creep back to him, scratching him with long nails and sending shivers down his spine. The floor was icy cold, and alcohol was now turning against him, making his mind blurry in a completely wrong way.
The screen of his cell phone told the dour truth.
Call duration: 4 minutes, 26 seconds
“Just stand straight and stop squirming,” Asuka snarled sharply, tugging on Kame's bow tie anxiously.
Her hands were trembling, he could feel it, and there was a drop of sweat on her temple, right next to her hairline. She looked beautiful, he had to admit it, though Asuka wasn't usually someone you would call that. She had put on more make-up, curled her hair and was wearing possibly the best dress she owned. It was red, embracing her body line and flattering her curves.
“You look nice,” Kame pointed out, trying to calm her down. Asuka was rarely nervous. She seemed to be almost cold to outsiders, even with those smiles of hers, and seeing her losing control was making him flustered too.
“Thanks,” Asuka mumbled while trying to straighten the bow tie. “Even though I don't have fancy stylists and hairdressers,” she snapped.
Kame wasn't offended. He closed his hands around her own, pulling her close and making her forget about the bow.
“Who will surely fix my clothing,” he informed, sounding calm and assured. He was. Professional mode was striking again, and he couldn't be happier about it. “Relax. It's not my first award ceremony.”
“But now I'm going to be there,” Asuka huffed and bit her lip. “What if someone notices... something? What if they get pictures? Or someone talks? They--”
“Unless you're going to ravish me in public, I don't see high possibilities for that happening,” he snorted. Asuka was almost as freaky with her self-control as he was, so such things weren't bound to happen. Never, in any circumstances, especially when she was rather prudish even at home.
When he sat on the backseat of a limousine, his mind started going back and forth. Asuka wasn't there, they had gotten her another car – why not, since she was just a friend who lived nearby. Just a friend. Right.
Kame wasn't one to mess with his company or get in trouble. He most certainly wasn't in love with Asuka, but she was a decent girl. They had started dating four months ago, and Kame didn't want to scare either her or his supervisors by telling anything. They just had to keep it a secret. She wasn't a girl he could make big sacrifices for, but he liked her enough to bother hiding for her. It was weird dating someone who wasn't a gold digger or as famous as he was. Asuka had been a co-writer for One Pound Gospel, a geeky, smart girl, not a bimbo fashionista. She was ordinary, to be realistic.
It was a nice change.
When the car started to move, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was Kamenashi, with or without a normal-standard girlfriend. Maybe in time he'd learn to love her, to feel true attraction towards her. Maybe she would help him forget.
If Kame would have bothered to look at his personal cell phone, he would've known exactly how many missed calls he had. The fact stood, the last thing he wanted at the moment was to know. He didn't want to spend his time wondering what they had to say, what they wanted to tell him and how they felt. He wanted to pretend he was the only person alive and his kitchen was the only room existing in the universe.
So far he had done a good job.
It was almost pathetic how he kept reading them. Continued to stare at the inked headlines, like he could telepathically change them or make them disappear. They were gruesome, mocking, disgusting. Large red kanjis printed all over them. Kamenashi Kazuya breaks down, Kamenashi in a scandal: angry ex-girlfriend wants benefits, the Golden Boy shows his true face. It was stupid to read gossip magazines' versions of his own life, but he couldn't help it.
Media hated him.
It had been everywhere for the last two fays. He still didn't know who was the leak or the first one to sell the story out. It had come unexpectedly, so fast it was still hard to process. For a while he had thought he was safe. Yamane had convinced him there was no way it could come out. He had been careless, and now, without a warning, he was the most disliked man in Japan. His assistants didn't tell him, but he knew his mail came in late because they had to sort out the death threats and angry fanmail. Information and the rumors had been mixed in the media, and the truth the whole country knew was a drastically colored one.
Could he ever leave his house again? Or would he become one of those people who couldn't step outside and ordered groceries in their homes? Usually those people were just really fat, though.
He knew his supervisors were angry. Their calls were the only ones he answered. Johnny was furious, and his anger made Kame almost feel sorry for the person who had sold the information. Once Johnny would get his hands on him or her, that person would be in big trouble. After all, ruining the best product he had on the market cost a lot.
Product. The word made Kame shiver. What effect would this have on his career? Would he get suspended, fired, even? Was his image ruined forever? What about KAT-TUN, how would it mirror on them?
The future didn't look sunny. Kame knew there were some difficult ways to enlighten it, but this was his life. His future. He didn't want to sound selfish, but there was only a limited amount of things he could do without ruining it.
His work phone rang again. A check on the screen told it was Yamane. Hesitantly he picked up, gulping and trying to calm his erratic breathing.
“Hello,” he answered and felt like bashing his head against the nearest wall for sounding so weak and small, like a lost little child.
“So you are alive,” Yamane's dry voice commented. “Get yourself together. You sound like someone just ate your kitten.”
“Angry?” Kame asked curiously.
“No, turned on,” Yamane spat and he could vividly imagine her rolling her eyes in that dusty office. “Your life is not over yet, Kamenashi, unless you're considering ending yourself. It's the only comfort I can give to you right now.”
“What will we do?” he threw in a question, ignoring the so-called comfort part.
“Well, the situation is pretty bad,” she explained. “Your fanbase is confused. Some think you're the biggest jerk on this side of the planet, some are defending you with their lives. You should hold a press conference as soon as possible. Ignoring your work duties doesn't help either, this really is effecting KAT-TUN and your solo activities.”
The mention of KAT-TUN made Kame press his cheek against the cold surface under him and curl up, hand around his knees.
“Press conference?”
“Yes. Where you apologize for everything and explain yourself. Contacting Asuka wouldn't hurt you either.”
“I'll hold the conference.”
“And Asuka? She didn't take the settlement, probably wants more money. Or you, but now that it's public, I think money is her main motivation. She's a nice girl, but definitely not an idiot.”
“We'll meet her in court.”
Dark corners were growing together.
It was true and admittable: Kame spent way too much time alone in his apartment nowadays. He didn't feel like going out much, besides for work, and his supervisors were breathing on his neck for even visiting a convenience store. They had reasons, so Kame couldn't directly blame them.
Kitchen floor had become his new best friend, his new bed. Its coldness helped him think, cleared his mind. It was hard, so he never got too comfortable. Most important, it was steady and strong under him: he knew it would support him no matter what. The knowledge had a calming effect on him, had him breathe steadily and close his eyes safely without drifting off to sleep.
Actually lying on the kitchen floor was at the moment one of his main activities. He couldn't leave his house before holding his conference, and he didn't want to read his mail or watch TV. He didn't want to see anything possibly connecting with media. He knew he'd soon enough clash into his own scandal, his own life made into a derisory puppet show with voiceless actors. So kitchen floor, his new friend, was the closest thing to him for most days. He realized acting like a hopeless shut-in didn't help, that he should just get up and be strong, but somehow he couldn't. It was weird, because he was used to taking advantage of even the last shreds of his energy, dancing on the edges of his endurance. He was Kamenashi, just like he kept repeating to himself.
Door summer's vague sound woke him up from his thoughts.
It was probably Yamane. Or his assistant. His security system let in only chosen people – mostly friends and family. And work. It was safe, and he didn't have to bother checking every time someone came in. So far his apartment he'd move into a few years ago was completely fangirlproof.
Kame got up, eyes flickering towards his mirror. He looked decent enough, never mind all those hours spent on the floor. He wasn't pathetic enough yet not to shower or change once in a while. Other things were unnecessary. Kame ruffled his hair and made his way to the door, unlocking it without bothering using the eye sight on it. He yawned, fatigue getting to him as hours were passing towards the night, and opened the door. He was stopped halfway, though, when the sight in front of him was something he couldn't have expected.
Jin.
It felt like time stopped. Not on a romantic way, though. An absolutely horrified way. Kame couldn't even process all the confused, terrified questions rising in his mind. He could only stare. It was Jin, seemingly in a good condition, healthy and hair still curly and perfect. He was still taller than Kame, and he still had the same scent that slowly started to entice Kame, pull him into its own world.
Jin was beautiful. He had his flaws, and he most certainly wasn't perfect on any way possible, not from outside or inside. But yes, he was beautiful. On a twisted way Kame had no power of getting rid of.
The thing was, no matter how beautiful one looked, it didn't mean he was wanted. Or a good person in least.
“You're back,” Kame said without a moment of thinking. It just slipped. Jin didn't nod or shake his head, no response. Only a shrug.
“For a while. I wanted to see you.”
There was a strange look in his eyes, one Kame couldn't identify. It wasn't surprising, since the last time he'd been engrossed with Jin's eyes wasn't exactly in the near past. But it didn't matter, because Kame was alone and everything was going in the wrong direction and everything was changing and oh God, Jin was there and---
And Kame kissed him.
Thinking afterwards, it was only natural. It was his last attempt to seek something familiar, something comforting when everything and everyone were turning their backs on him. And Jin was familiar, if Kame bothered to ignore their past, and his body was warm and soft, calling Kame in.
The taller one answered without a moment's hesitation, and Kame pulled him in, closing the door with his hand. The kiss was wary at first, experimenting and slightly awkward, like the ones they had shared years ago, when they still were innocent and pure and had stars in their eyes. The phase didn't last long, just like then, and soon Kame could feel Jin's arm wrapping around his waist, his teeth biting his lower lip and tongue seeking for entrance.
As he buried his hand in Jin's hair, tugging on the soft locks, Kame could feel his brain start functioning again. It was Jin he was kissing. Jin, who was in America, and Jin, who had destroyed so much without really meaning to. Jin, who missed him. Kame hadn't kissed anyone but Asuka in over a year, and it sounded cruel, but it felt fucking good. So good actually that Kame broke the kiss with Jin only to pull on his hair, making him stretch his neck and then pressing lips, tongue and teeth against the milky skin.
Maybe he had a thing for forbidden fruits, at least considering the effect Jin's shaky moan had on him.
For a minute they were all wandering hands, clashes of fingers, teeth on skin and low, meaningless sounds. Then Kame could feel Jin moving, pushing him, and obediently he let the other man lead him towards his own bedroom. It felt right and wrong at the same time. This was Jin, and nothing was supposed to happen – he didn't want anything to happen, not with this person.
But Jin was there. He was there, only for Kame, wanting only him.
So Kame let it happen. He let Jin kiss him, undress him, press him against the mattress, demanding lips and hasty sighs. He let the other man explore his body once again, moaned into his touch, back arching and hands clenching on his sheets. He let Jin mark him as his own, his property. It wasn't true or honest, but it still comforted him..
(The reassuring, sweet nothings Jin whispered in Kame's ear while pushing inside him didn't matter, because in the morning he was gone. Gone with a memory and an unwillingly given piece of Kame's heart he still refused to give back.)
It felt rude, like invading on someone else's property. Kame sat next to his cell phone for an hour, biting his lip and trying to decide whether to do it or not.
But he wanted his heart back. His life back. And he wanted to know, before it was too late.
He wasn't someone to call back a person, not even after such an incident. It was an accident, an expected and self-caused one. He felt nervous. This could mean a change or a heartbreak. He just wanted to live.
His fingers shook when he finally pressed the name on his speed dial.
The phone rang exactly three times. Then someone picked up, voice hasty, almost scared. Lost.
“Why are you calling?”
Kame's surrendering sigh was only a lonely echo.
“Asuka?”
“Yes?”
“I'm sorry.”
author:
awesomechick15 pairing: Jin/Kame, Kame/OC
rating: R
genre: romance, angst, drama, fluff-ish, flashback
disclaimer: I don't own anyone from JE, but I do own all the other characters and the story.
word count: 8,632
warnings: -
summary: It was almost like his whole life was formed by silences.
Kame's life takes a drastic turn to hell, and takes him back down the memory lane.
A/N: I know it's not good promotion to say you dislike or hate your own fic. But OH MY GOD DO I HATE HIS ONE, SERIOUSLY. We didn't synch from the start, somehow, and for real - if this fic was a person, I would beat it to death with my bare hands and a toothbrush. Anyway, this is a prompt from my friend Aliisa and even though there's a little chance she'll read this, FUCK YOU WOMAN, FUCK YOU. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP ME? YOUR PROMPT. :----------------( (Though she deserves credit for the prompt word, pregnant, and being the target of my aggression while writing this. Poor girl sits next to me in our history class.)
As a warning, there's going to be lots of silences. And Kame on his kitchen floor. And no plot whatsoever. And LENGTH I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING BUT DRABBLES IN, LIKE. AGES.
Oh dear God. Here we go.
* * *
2010
2010
”Kazu, I need to talk to you.”
He took the hint as soon as it left her lips. He dropped the files and scripts he was working on and turned around on his chair. It wasn't really her phrase that made him move, but the tone of her voice - it was slightly frantic, yet she was obviously trying to sound and appear as calm and collected. A clear sign of trouble. Her eyes were frantic, searching for a spot to stick to, and Kame could see a tracing line of sweat on her neck.
The sight was rather unnerving. There wasn't many times Kame had seen her like this.
”What is it?” he asked, almost suspicious, and attempted to find the answer from her anxious face. No success.
”I don't know how I should say this,” she said, her voice trembling, making Kame shiver as dark thoughts started crossing his mind, each one worse than other. She was dying? She was cheating on him? She wanted to break up? He tried to prepare himself for whatever was coming.
It was easy. With his willpower, he could endure many things, including bad news. He was actually almost always prepared for the worst, for the maximum endurance.
But nothing could have prepared him for the shaky whisper following her words.
”I'm pregnant.”
His mind went blank.
There was one thing you wanted to avoid in Johnny's. One thing above everything else, above drug scandals, fights, girlfriends, snoopy paparazzis and stalkers, drunken nights and being caught naked. One thing.
Getting someone pregnant.
It was so avoided the whole topic was forming into a taboo. A horror story amongst innocent juniors. No one dared to talk about it, and everyone made sure their asses wouldn't be on Kitagawa's target line after a stupid one-night stand or a crazy gold digger girlfriend they weren't even engaged with. And now, Kamenashi Kazuya, the Golden Boy, had managed to do it.
Asuka wasn't even psycho, goddamn it.
Panic began to rise in his chest like a wave. What would happen now? Would she want to keep it, would she want to leave and never see him again and get all his money? What would he say to Johnny then? What would happen to his career? Would he be suspended? Would he have to marry her? What about the kid, could he raise one? And what about his family, his mother would behead him for sure!
Oh Lord. He couldn't do this. It was so simple it nearly made him cry; he artlessly couldn't do this, not now, not probably ever. There was no mental strength or preparement in him for this. There was no way he could ever go through everything. Or this moment, to be exact. This was partly why he stayed silent for a good ten seconds, Asuka's stare burning his skin, and then said something that would surely change his life. Make this moment stick to his memory. It was a mistake, one of those you rewinded all over again in your mind, feeling anguished for not being able to change them. Those words.
”It's not mine.”
As soon as he had said them, he wanted to take them back. It was mostly because of Asuka's face, those shocked, stunned eyes that were looking at him like a complete stranger. He felt the burn of guilt in his chest. She didn't deserve any of this, he could tell by the silence following.
Because that silence – it was deep. For a moment Kame was certain the time had stopped. They just sat there, both not believing those words had been said aloud, that from all the people Kame had said them. The ever-gentle Kame, who with all his flaws and perfectionism didn't want to really hurt anyone. Shock was more than obvious on Asuka's face, her features and appearance. She didn't want to believe it. Neither did Kame, but they didn't have a choice.
Her shocked phase didn't last long. Soon her eyes started to turn angry. Furious, even. She was trembling again, from completely different reasons this time, wakening worry in Kame to live with the growing guilt.
”Fuck you,” she spat so suddenly it made Kame flinch. ”Fuck you, Kamenashi. I knew you were a workaholic, cold-hearted, self-centered bastard, but at least I thought you could be a man and take your responsibility. Fuck you.”
Before Kame could answer, take the long sentence in, she had stood up, taken her coat and turned her back to him. Not that he would have – he didn't have anything to say. For the very first time in so many years he was actually left speechless.
The sound of her footsteps and the loud, raw bang of the door were slowly strangling him.
* * *
0000
0000
When you're young, you don't realize what's out there. You never do. You notice something lurking behind the corner, waiting for you to grow up and understand what a cruel place the world can be, but never pay real attention to it. You have troubles, but when you later remember them with warmth, they seem so small and vain your youth gets a silver lining.
When young, Kame was the worrying kind. He was dorky, he was gawky, everything a normal teenage boy should be and more. But secretly inside the depths of his mind, the ones not filled with awkward sexual encounters and fantasies, he worried. A lot. About everything, to be truthful – from his mother's health to his future. From the closing times of his local shop and the exact returnal day of his rental video to the Kame ten years later.
It was easy to tell when he was worrying. There was a frown between his brows, making his face look dark and unflattering. His lips were pursed and he was usually cracking his fingers unconsciously. There were some little twitches on the corners of his mouth, and his muscles were tense yet absolutely unaware of all movements and happenings around him.
Jin always knew when he was worrying. Different to others, the boy knew something else, too. How to soothe him, how to make him feel better, make him forget.
That was the first thing about Jin Kame really fell in love with. His concern. The way his breathing tickled Kame's neck, the way he brushed Kame's bangs aside and blinded his eyes with that bright smile of his. His voice, the soothing words falling from his lips – Kame never paid attention to his words, because Jin often sounded a lot less cooler with them, but his voice was a different thing. Kame could have kept listening to it for eternity.
Jin was his drug, his addiction, his own silver lining of youth. The memory of happiness and long summer nights. The memory he wanted to go back to.
* * *
2010
2010
When he thought about it, he hadn't been lonely in ages. It was weird, actually. Even when he was alone in the dark corners of his luxurious apartment, he never felt empty. Never felt like something was missing. That was probably because he always had company. If it wasn't a good bottle of wine or a friend, it was work. He never had time to notice he was alone when it was already time to go act social and professional again, time to get out of his home.
But now it was different. He didn't feel like wanting alcohol, even though the lulling blur would have felt pleasant. He didn't feel like working or practicing either, and all the papers – files, scripts, whatever – were sprawled on his kitchen table, looking so painfully aversive he couldn't look at them without feeling anxiety brushing his sides.
The floor was cold. It always was, he just hadn't paid attention to it before. His apartment felt huge, like an endless series of rooms with high ceilings and wide windows. When he looked outside, he could see the lights of Tokyo, the city pulsing around him. He was too small, too weak for its speed.
When one doesn't know what to do, instincts take control. It's the reason why we run when it feels like our legs aren't working, why our lungs keep fighting for air when the last thing we want to do is to breathe. It was one of those instincts that made Kame grab his cell phone. It had to be.
Because there was no way, just no fucking way he would call Jin in the middle of the night or whatever time it was in Los Angeles otherwise, absolutely no way. They didn't do that, Kame didn't do that, it wasn't acceptable or--
The monotone ringing in his ears made him stop and press the phone harder against his ear. Fuck it.
In the end he wasn't sure how long it took Jin to pick up. Maybe thirty seconds, maybe a few minutes. Kame didn't think about it, he just stared the city lying beneath him, leaning his forehead against the cold glass of his kitchen window. Even kitchens were confusingly heartless and chilly on midnight, he noticed.
”Yes?” a sleepy, mumbled voice said, a bit hoarse but loud enough to hear.
”Jin?” Kame asked, feeling shivers going down his spine, not even realizing the other one was speaking English.
”Yeah,” the voice answered, obviously confused and still hazy from sleep, but finally changing to his native tongue. ”Who is this?”
”It's me,” Kame whispered and immediately felt like hitting himself. ”Kamenashi, I mean.”
”Oh,” Jin said simply, sounding a little too surprised. ”Oh.”
”I just. I wanted to say hi.”
”Right. Um... Hi.”
”How's L.A.?” Kame asked, pressing the phone slightly closer to his ear. Coldness was creeping in.
”It's fine,” Jin stated, and he would have shrugged if they could have seen each other. Kame knew it. ”Just like four years ago. I like it here.”
”Oh. That's... that's good.”
”Is there a reason you're calling? It's eight in the morning here, so in there it's... what, midnight?”
”No. Or, well. Yes.”
”Is something wrong?”
Because you don't call me otherwise, Kame ended Jin's sentence in his mind. It felt so bittersweet it was almost too hard to bear.
”Asuka... She's...”
”Did something happen?”
”Asuka's pregnant.”
Was it right to tell Jin? Was it a wrong move? Kame didn't know, and he was certain he wasn't going to get any straight answers. It was already obvious from the way the line went silent for a few seconds. Maybe there just wasn't anything to screw up anymore. Only damaged people and dust.
”Wow. That's just... Wow. Congratulations, I guess.”
”You don't sound too congratulative.”
”You don't sound too happy about it.”
* * *
2004
2004
”You alright?”
It was Jin. Kame turned his head to look at him and felt a smile creep its way on his face. He nodded and watched Jin sit on the chair next to him.
”You're finished?” Kame asked, tilting his head curiously.
”Yup,” Jin grinned and tugged the collar of his black school uniform. ”Soon off to change.”
”Let's go somewhere then,” Kame smirked and stood up. ”I'm finished too.”
”You wrapped the scene with Nakama?”
”Would I be here if I didn't?”
There were some advantages when filming a drama. For example sliding work hours when everything went well enough. They left the shooting location after changing, ignoring the fact they had own arranged rides home. They were still young, they could walk. At least to the closest bus stop.
Jin was pretty with his dark, curly hair. He really was, though Kame knew the boy would punch him if he ever said it aloud. Kame liked his own hair, too – being a redhead was quite fun, actually. Ryu's role included multiple benefits, nice hair being one of them.
Walking aimlessly around the streets was relaxing. To passersby they looked like any random teenagers, perhaps coming back from school or work, if they used their imagination. Kame laughed automatically but genuinely at a joke Jin made, although he didn't really listen to the joke itself – Jin's gags were generally lame. What made Kame laugh wholeheartedly was Jin's smile, the one with a mischievous edge to it and sparkles in his eyes. It was Kame's ultimate favorite by far.
Usually on free afternoons they went to quiet cafés, the ones where customers were as old as time, and no one could recognize them even if their lives depended on it. This afternoon was a different one. It was warm and sunny, not a cloud in the sky – kind of rare, considering how low temperatures were. Days like these couldn't be wasted. It would've been wrong. Therefore they walked into a park close by, a small and cozy one with birds and old ladies feeding them, the kind of park you see in Western films all the time. It was a secluded place, no one around, noises of the city drown out.
Kame laughed again when instead of sitting on a bench Jin threw himself over the rather well-maintained grass, limbs sprawled in different directions. As he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, Kame sat next to him, feeling sunbeams on his neck. It was liberating. Kame loved it when all he had to do was to lay back and be himself. When he wasn't Kamenashi from Johnny's, but another good-for-nothing boy without anything better to do than lazing around parks.
”You love this, don't you?”
The voice came so out of nowhere it made Kame turn his head rapidly. The speaker was Jin, of course. He had opened an eye and was smiling again, his expression annoyingly knowing. It didn't fit him, Jin was better off with a clueless face.
”You love this freedom.”
”So do you,” Kame said quietly and laid down, grass tickling his back.
For a moment there was utter silence. All they could hear was birds, traffic somewhere far away and wind howling high above them. Silence.
”Don't we have a scene like this?” Jin suddenly asked, his voice wondering.
”What do you mean?” Kame answered with a question, looking at Jin from the corner of his eye.
”Where Ryu and Hayato lie on the ground,” the latter explained, ”on grass or something. I remember at least reading about it.”
”Might be.”
”Ka-me, you're no fun,” he complained and turned on his side so he could face his friend. ”You should talk more!”
”You're just too loud,” Kame rolled his eyes.
”That's not a nice thing to say,” Jin protested and huffed. ”Kamenashi, you should have people skills. If you stay like this, I'm going to take all the attention from girls. Even Nakamaru will have more fans than you.”
”That's not nice either,” Kame shot back and grinned. ”But don't worry about me, there's no way any girl would ever like you, Bakanishi.”
”Hey, take that back! And don't use that name!”
Jin's exclaim didn't have the desired effect. Instead of complying, Kame exploded in laughter and started to repeat the mock name over and over again in different tones, drowning all protests under his voice. They had to be a strange pair to look at, Kame shouting the same name and Jin screaming absurd objections, trying to make his friend stop.
When he couldn't use words, the latter soon got fed up with wasting his voice. He pouted and grabbed Kame's wrists, straddling him without much difficulties; the other boy was completely defenseless. Even the actions made Kame only laugh harder, and his attempts to pull his wrists free were vain.
”Bakanishi!”
”Shut up!”
His screams didn't do any significant difference. Jin grew frustrated, and felt already desperate when another mocking Bakanishi found its way to his ears. There was only one thing left to do, to make Kame finally shut up. To get Jin win.
When he pressed his lips against Kame's, every noise seemed to quiet down. No birds, no wind, no traffic. The kiss was clumsy, all awkward lips and shaking limbs, hair tickling neck and cheeks. But it was a kiss, and when Jin realized what he was doing, he quickly pulled away from Kame, feeling both stupid and embarrassed.
It was still quiet. Jin could feel Kame's shocked stare and the hotness of his flushed face. The silence was horrifying, like standing on an edge of a cliff, waiting for falling – and Jin had never liked falling, the feeling of his heart pounding so hard he feared it might come out of his chest.
Kame opened his mouth and then closed it again. A smile started to form on his lips, curling them and making him look less stunned, less terrified.
”Jin,” he said peacefully, completely ignoring what a trembling mess the boy was above him, ”you're a bad kisser.”
There are moments in your life when you realize something much bigger than you is beginning. This was one of those moments, and Jin knew it. The feeling resembled falling, to his surprise. He had jumped – or more like someone had pushed him.
”Then teach me.”
* * *
2010
2010
”You alright?”
Kame could barely suppress a flinch, when those words registered in his conscious. He didn't look at the person talking, only shrugged. The backstage was a busy storm of stress, loud noises and hairspray everywhere. He felt Koki's weight on the couch as the other man sat on it.
”Have you talked to Asuka?” he asked, sounding both worried and curious.
”No,” Kame answered heartlessly and kept staring insistently on the surface of the table in front of them.
”It's your kid. If I was you, I–”
”Koki, please leave me alone. I don't need your advice.”
It wasn't Koki's fault, Kame reminded himself as the man left without a word, obviously at least irritated, if not more. It wasn't, and he didn't deserve the treatment either. But Kame was too weak, too powerless to listen. He couldn't deal with any of this. Koki should have known that.
The lack of Jin in the dressing room was remarkable.
* * *
2005
2005
Kame had never been skilled in the art of dating. There had been some girls, but there was absolutely no way to rehearse for secretly dating your bandmate who was, accordingly, a member of the same sex. Kame hated the feeling of being lost, simply hated it, but with Jin it was a little better. That was the point. With Jin.
There was lots of risks. Many things on stake, most of them ones not a single person in their right mind wanted to lose. It was exciting, intoxicating, but also intimidating. The thought of being caught didn't leave his mind for a minute, but the difference was, it wasn't the only one.
Jin still looked pretty. They hadn't cut his hair, and it was still dark, messy locks creating a contrast against white sheets. Yes, Jin was pretty in anything and anywhere. Especially asleep, when all his resistance and energy was gone, when he looked peaceful and calm for once. It had to be a little creepy, actually – Kame watching him sleep. Very creepy if you didn't know them. But Kame liked, enjoyed watching Jin, his own small bubble of voyeurism.
The room was cozy – no surprise, considering Jin had a habit of making himself home anywhere he stayed. Posters on the walls, messy sheets (not caused by them, at least) and clothes all over. It was like he used his floor instead of his wardrobe. But Kame still felt warm and at home – it certainly wasn't the first time he was at Jin's or slept over. Nowadays it was just a little bit different, but the feeling was the same. They didn't have sex, they never did and Kame couldn't say he really felt like it, so they weren't lovers, but they weren't only friends either.
”Whatcha lookin' at?”
The murmur was so low Kame almost missed it. He snorted and ran his fingers through Jin's hair, nearly sure he heard something resembling a purr.
”You're drooling,” he snickered and poked his friend's cheek.
”'m not,” Jin protested weakly, but wiped his mouth anyway, curling an arm around Kame's waist and pulling him closer. ”Liar.”
”Idiot,” the latter mumbled, but couldn't bring himself to sound that angry or annoyed. Instead he nuzzled against Jin, breathing in his scent and trying to take advantage of his warmth.
”You're clingy,” the dark-haired boy complained. ”It's so not hot.”
”Bakanishi,” Kame whispered in his neck and kissed his earlobe.
”Shut up.”
Jin's retort was, again, powerless as he properly wrapped his arms around Kame.
* * *
2010
2010
Kame was usually good at handling crisis. His ability to fight stress made his mind always clear and rational. He was Kamenashi, and his professionalism in pretty much everything made him strong – like said, he was always prepared like a twisted boy scout.
Except for this, among other things. When he looked at Asuka, her seemingly withdrawn eyes and tense being, he could not help but wonder how they had gotten there. Next to Asuka was sitting a man in his early forties, dressed in a suit, his hair put down with what seemed to be a few liters of gel. Kame hated him from the very beginning, Asuka's lawyer Makoto and his monotone voice, serious face and soulless eyes. And that damn suitcase he carried around like it was a family jewel.
Kame's own lawyer was no better, though. A woman named Yamane, approximately a bit older than Makoto. Kame hadn't seen that many female lawyers around, but Yamane worked under Kitagawa. He had heard her name before, connected to different scandals and law suits over the years. They said she was the best their company had, and Kame sincerely wanted to believe so.
So far she seemed good. Not that Kame would have known, since his experience with lawyers was extremely limited. She was strict and professional and didn't give him the bad eye everyone else seemed to do. They didn't have much defense yet because Asuka hadn't told what she wanted. Now was the time, and it made Kame nauseous, nervous thoughts pressing his mood.
As he sat there and tried to catch a glimpse of the Asuka he knew, guilt began to burn his insides again.
After that night everything had happened fast. When Kame didn't apologize or contact her, Asuka took action. It was understandable. That was what he had always liked about her, the way she took priorities and acted with sense even when the situation was critical. Many mistook her as an optimist for her usually sunny attitude and undying smiles, but he knew better. She was a realist. And a realist wanted as good conditions for her child as possible with any ways she could use.
In good old Johnny's fashion, the company wanted to solve everything quietly and as obscure as possible. With money and contracts. They wanted to make Asuka disappear. Kame still remembered the silence after his announcement in the management room. Still remembered the blind fear he had felt when they made him see Kitagawa alone, like he was a helpless prey being pushed into a predator's cage.
”We wish to settle,” Yamane's sharp voice broke the silence in the conference room.
Whatever was going to happen, it had now begun.
* * *
2007
2007
Jin could literally feel the coldness radiating from Kame.
No, not coldness – ignorance, nonchalance. He was sure that if he tried, he could touch the mental barriers and walls the younger one had set around himself. That closed face, empty, glassy eyes, completely calm appearance and yet such a distant aura. And did he want to. He wanted to break in, see if everything was still intact, still waiting for him.
But the answer was already clear on Kame's face.
There was nothing left anymore. Only ruins and ashes.
Of course they had a chance of building something new together, or so Jin wanted to believe. Something fragile and sensitive, something that could be broken down by a single breeze of wind or collapsed by a soft touch. It could last for a while, but the fact was, ashes didn't support anything new.
It would fall down again in time.
Jin flinched at the cold, drone voices around the table. He had to rip his gaze away from Kame and set it to the wooden surface of furniture. Every look was dangerous, like standing on a cliff, ready to jump, fall into eternity.
At that time, Jin honestly wanted to just jump.
* * *
2010
2010
Kame should have expected it sooner. He should have taken the initiative himself, to be exact – if he was a good, soulful person, which he didn't feel like at all. He didn't how she knew, but he wasn't surprised when he got a call from his mother. He was rather lucky for not having to deal with the press, for having contacts so reliable not one outsider knew a thing. But his mother wasn't an outsider. No one from his family was.
When the call came, he was currently in his kitchen. Lying on his kitchen floor, if you wanted to get on details. He had stopped using such vanities as tables or chairs whenever he was alone after admitting nothing was alright. He didn't feel like sitting or keeping his posture. He only wanted to lie down, close his eyes and wait for a hundred years of dreamless sleep.
He felt his phone vibrating in the pocket of his denim jeans and pulled it out, lazy and slow, opening it and pressing it against his ear.
”Hi,” he said without a clue of who was on the phone. He didn't really care either. He had opened a few cans of beer earlier and the warm, cozy haze of alcohol was covering his world.
”Kazuya,” a familiar voice whispered from the other line and Kame could feel blood freezing in his veins.
”Mom,” he startled, sitting up unconsciously, ruffling his hair.
”I got a call from Asuka,” she sighed. It was a certain type of sigh: not content, not disappointed either. An exhausted one. One telling she had given up before beginning.
”I see,” Kame mumbled, trying to clear his vision and collect his thoughts.
There was a silence. He was starting to get used to them. It was almost like his whole life was formed by silences. Silences with different lengths and feelings, silences separating time.
”She sounded very serious,” his mother said suddenly. ”Even more determined than usual. A little angry too. And speaking straight, I understand her well.”
”Yeah,” Kame answered lowly. He couldn't think up anything to say.
”Can you tell me what happened?”
”She didn't?”
”Oh, she did, but... I want to hear your version. Of everything. She told me you said some horrible things to her and that's not like you, Kazuya. I know you.”
”I did say something,” he took the turn to sigh. ”And when I didn't take it back even in time, she... well. You know.”
”And you haven't tried to stop her? Talk to her?”
”No.”
Another silence. This time it was short, almost like a long pause, but still identifiable as a silence.
”Explain it to me,” his mother finally said, and surrender had never been so blatant in her voice.
Kame did. Partly out of responsibility, partly out of the need to let everything out. To talk to someone, even if it was his mother – someone he had, with love and respect of course, never counted as a person to open up to.
He told her everything. Everything from the first moment, of how Asuka told she was pregnant – and how he answered, simply and coldly. And how he was afraid, so fucking afraid it sometimes felt like he couldn't breathe. And how everything had happened so fast he still wasn't sure it was real. How he hated Asuka's lawyer, hated the fact Asuka had turned her back on him the moment he felt hesitation. Even though he knew she had her reasons.
It didn't feel good to talk. It made him face his own fears and thoughts, and he couldn't believe he was actually telling them to someone at the same time. No, it didn't free him or whatever it was supposed to do. But it didn't damage him either, and it cleared his mind, as much as he wanted to keep it blurry and unreasonable. He had always wanted kids, but not right now.
He said it aloud, his voice shaky and weak, and then it hit him.
It wasn't the timing. It wasn't the abruptness: he did want children.
Just not with Asuka.
* * *
2008
2008
When Kame first met her, he felt nothing.
It was during his One Pound Gospel shooting. He couldn't remember much details from that time: the stress level of those months was overwhelming even to him, and all the memories were hasty and blurry, like shaken photographs in the back of your book shelf. He couldn't remember the color of her shirt or what she was holding in her hands.
Yes, holding. Kame's and Asuka's first meeting was like from a mushy romantic comedy. He had ended shooting for that day, and was trying to push through staff on a crowded hallway. They turned out for him, of course – he was Kamenashi, after all. He was tired, almost exhausted, and on a rather snappy mood. Not really because of his fatigue though, but because he was actually tired enough to admit it to himself.
And then it happened, that classic move always played by glamorous Hollywood actors who held plastic smiles on red carpets and got paid with millions of dollars. When Kame was about to turn left, something coming from behind the corner hit him. Someone. With a surprised yelp he took a few steps back, but maintained his balance. The other party wasn't as lucky and suddenly Kame had an armful of what turned out to be co-writer on him. Later he couldn't remember if he caught her voluntarily or if she just fell on his arms, but the difference wasn't big.
”You okay?” he asked self-actingly, and she nodded, standing up on her own. He caught a glimpse of her face, then – that he could remember well.
There was always something mismatching on Asuka's face. Her features were soft: full lips, small and cute nose, low cheekbones. Her eyes were an exception: they were sharp and intelligent, framed by thin eyebrows and black, straight hair falling on her shoulders. She wasn't beautiful, no, not by any means, but on the other side, someone calling her ugly obviously didn't have eyes.
”I'm sorry,” she said and bowed deeply, then dropping to her knees. It wasn't until then Kame noticed she had been carrying something. It might have been papers, or books, or maybe CDs – he couldn't tell, not anymore. Nonetheless he dropped down, too, and wordlessly started to help her out. He could feel her incredulous stare, but didn't care.
After a moment and ten unidentified objects later he stood up, followed by her.
”What's your name?” he asked suddenly. He couldn't really explain it to himself. He didn't usually ask things like these, mostly because people often mistook it as flirting. So did obviously this woman, but he didn't bother to correct her. He needed a friend, weird accusations could be made later.
”Fujimoto Asuka,” she answered, blinking and staring at him like an alien.
She didn't seem like one of those innocent, gentle girls you see in mangas – the ones that can't believe the ikemen has talked to them, only them. He could see what she was thinking about. She was wondering what his motives were, what did he want – was it money, a contract? Why would a Johnny's star want something from her?
”You're going to the same direction?”
That was how it began. It was his own damn fault.
* * *
2010
2010
Maybe it was out of loneliness again. It was the best excuse he had after ending the call with his mother. Naturally it was weird to feel lonely when you had just talked to someone, but with people such as her he tended to get only more isolated and distant. He still hadn't gotten up from the kitchen floor, and didn't bother now either. Instead he fell to lie on his back again, stomach slightly rumbling and alcohol still blurring his vision.
Yes, it definitely was out of loneliness. And booze. There was no other way he could have picked Jin's number from speed dial (why was he in the speed dial anyway?) and pressed the phone against his ear once again, waiting silently.
“Hi,” a familiar, soft voice said. It was obvious Jin wasn't nearly as surprised about Kame's call as the last time. Almost like he had been expecting it.
“I don't want to be here,” Kame whispered, not sure if Jin could hear him.
It didn't make sense, and he had just called and probably woken him up and didn't even say hi and oh God, it was Jin, once so close and warm, now only a person in Kame's own private history book, dusty, old, painful memories. It was Jin, and Kame had absolutely no right to call him from across the world on inhuman hours and start whining.
“I know,” a patient, still soft answer came, and Jin was being so calm it was depressing. “Kame, are you drunk?”
Fuck, so the bastard still knew him after all. And called him by nickname. It felt good, and Kame wanted to smack himself for that.
“No,” he protested straight away, but after a few seconds sighed quietly. “A little bit. But... It has nothing to do with this. I'm not that drunk.”
“I know.”
It was almost like being stabbed in stomach. And it didn't make sense either, because it wasn't Kame's fault. Kame didn't break them, tear them apart, and why was he thinking about stuff that had happened years ago and wasn't thinkable or fixable anymore? He should have drunk tea instead.
“I want to go home,” his murmur sounded pathetic even in his own ears.
“Where are you?” Jin asked, his tone worried now, and it was so wrong because Jin had no right to this phone call either. To be truthful, his rights were more narrow than Kame's.
“At my apartment,” the latter answered. “But I'm not home.”
“Neither am I,” Jin mumbled, and it made Kame stop everything for a moment. Thinking, breathing, processing. Everything. It was probably the first time Jin ever admitted aloud that his beloved L.A. wasn't entirely a paradise. To Kame, at least.
He hummed, feeling the alcohol prickle in his veins, and opened his mouth, saying the first thing coming from his lips.
“Where are you then?”
It was a stupid, obvious question with a possibly stupid answer. Kame didn't mind that much, not after he heard the response.
“Somewhere I don't want to be,” Jin said, his voice low and worn. It made Kame startle: he didn't get confused very often, but somehow Jin had always held the ability to make him fall off track.
“But you love America,” he blurted out.
“Does it matter anymore, Kame? Do you think anyone cares?”
“Yes,” his response came slightly late. “I do.”
It was a bit like being sucked into a vacuum. Not that Kame had the prior experience, but still. He could feel how Jin tensed, how the man didn't know how to answer. He still knew from thousands of miles away. It should have been a good thing, even flattering, but considering the circumstances Kame was only disappointed in himself. He didn't need this.
“You shouldn't,” Jin stated the obvious.
“That's probably true,” Kame tried to sound as neutral as possible. “But I'm a fool, you know that.”
“You're not a fool.”
“I wish I was.”
The vacuum appeared again, sucking in all thoughts, all responses, absolutely everything from both of them. Kame had no idea where the seemingly pointless conversation was going, but he didn't have the desire to hang up either. That was already one thing making him a fool, since the phone call wasn't exactly cheap.
“I miss you,” Jin's quiet voice echoed in Kame's kitchen.
There it was. The line. The words both of them thought about, serious or not, but weren't allowed to say. Not by themselves or anyone else. It actually made Kame a little angry: he had kept himself collected for so long, hidden behind the masks and actually tried, but what did Jin do? He was like a small child on a playground, no sense of reality. Which was, in this case, harder than it should have been.
“Bye.”
Before he could even process the reaction through his brain, Kame had already hung up on Jin. Loneliness started to creep back to him, scratching him with long nails and sending shivers down his spine. The floor was icy cold, and alcohol was now turning against him, making his mind blurry in a completely wrong way.
The screen of his cell phone told the dour truth.
Call duration: 4 minutes, 26 seconds
* * *
2009
2009
“Just stand straight and stop squirming,” Asuka snarled sharply, tugging on Kame's bow tie anxiously.
Her hands were trembling, he could feel it, and there was a drop of sweat on her temple, right next to her hairline. She looked beautiful, he had to admit it, though Asuka wasn't usually someone you would call that. She had put on more make-up, curled her hair and was wearing possibly the best dress she owned. It was red, embracing her body line and flattering her curves.
“You look nice,” Kame pointed out, trying to calm her down. Asuka was rarely nervous. She seemed to be almost cold to outsiders, even with those smiles of hers, and seeing her losing control was making him flustered too.
“Thanks,” Asuka mumbled while trying to straighten the bow tie. “Even though I don't have fancy stylists and hairdressers,” she snapped.
Kame wasn't offended. He closed his hands around her own, pulling her close and making her forget about the bow.
“Who will surely fix my clothing,” he informed, sounding calm and assured. He was. Professional mode was striking again, and he couldn't be happier about it. “Relax. It's not my first award ceremony.”
“But now I'm going to be there,” Asuka huffed and bit her lip. “What if someone notices... something? What if they get pictures? Or someone talks? They--”
“Unless you're going to ravish me in public, I don't see high possibilities for that happening,” he snorted. Asuka was almost as freaky with her self-control as he was, so such things weren't bound to happen. Never, in any circumstances, especially when she was rather prudish even at home.
When he sat on the backseat of a limousine, his mind started going back and forth. Asuka wasn't there, they had gotten her another car – why not, since she was just a friend who lived nearby. Just a friend. Right.
Kame wasn't one to mess with his company or get in trouble. He most certainly wasn't in love with Asuka, but she was a decent girl. They had started dating four months ago, and Kame didn't want to scare either her or his supervisors by telling anything. They just had to keep it a secret. She wasn't a girl he could make big sacrifices for, but he liked her enough to bother hiding for her. It was weird dating someone who wasn't a gold digger or as famous as he was. Asuka had been a co-writer for One Pound Gospel, a geeky, smart girl, not a bimbo fashionista. She was ordinary, to be realistic.
It was a nice change.
When the car started to move, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was Kamenashi, with or without a normal-standard girlfriend. Maybe in time he'd learn to love her, to feel true attraction towards her. Maybe she would help him forget.
* * *
2010
2010
If Kame would have bothered to look at his personal cell phone, he would've known exactly how many missed calls he had. The fact stood, the last thing he wanted at the moment was to know. He didn't want to spend his time wondering what they had to say, what they wanted to tell him and how they felt. He wanted to pretend he was the only person alive and his kitchen was the only room existing in the universe.
So far he had done a good job.
It was almost pathetic how he kept reading them. Continued to stare at the inked headlines, like he could telepathically change them or make them disappear. They were gruesome, mocking, disgusting. Large red kanjis printed all over them. Kamenashi Kazuya breaks down, Kamenashi in a scandal: angry ex-girlfriend wants benefits, the Golden Boy shows his true face. It was stupid to read gossip magazines' versions of his own life, but he couldn't help it.
Media hated him.
It had been everywhere for the last two fays. He still didn't know who was the leak or the first one to sell the story out. It had come unexpectedly, so fast it was still hard to process. For a while he had thought he was safe. Yamane had convinced him there was no way it could come out. He had been careless, and now, without a warning, he was the most disliked man in Japan. His assistants didn't tell him, but he knew his mail came in late because they had to sort out the death threats and angry fanmail. Information and the rumors had been mixed in the media, and the truth the whole country knew was a drastically colored one.
Could he ever leave his house again? Or would he become one of those people who couldn't step outside and ordered groceries in their homes? Usually those people were just really fat, though.
He knew his supervisors were angry. Their calls were the only ones he answered. Johnny was furious, and his anger made Kame almost feel sorry for the person who had sold the information. Once Johnny would get his hands on him or her, that person would be in big trouble. After all, ruining the best product he had on the market cost a lot.
Product. The word made Kame shiver. What effect would this have on his career? Would he get suspended, fired, even? Was his image ruined forever? What about KAT-TUN, how would it mirror on them?
The future didn't look sunny. Kame knew there were some difficult ways to enlighten it, but this was his life. His future. He didn't want to sound selfish, but there was only a limited amount of things he could do without ruining it.
His work phone rang again. A check on the screen told it was Yamane. Hesitantly he picked up, gulping and trying to calm his erratic breathing.
“Hello,” he answered and felt like bashing his head against the nearest wall for sounding so weak and small, like a lost little child.
“So you are alive,” Yamane's dry voice commented. “Get yourself together. You sound like someone just ate your kitten.”
“Angry?” Kame asked curiously.
“No, turned on,” Yamane spat and he could vividly imagine her rolling her eyes in that dusty office. “Your life is not over yet, Kamenashi, unless you're considering ending yourself. It's the only comfort I can give to you right now.”
“What will we do?” he threw in a question, ignoring the so-called comfort part.
“Well, the situation is pretty bad,” she explained. “Your fanbase is confused. Some think you're the biggest jerk on this side of the planet, some are defending you with their lives. You should hold a press conference as soon as possible. Ignoring your work duties doesn't help either, this really is effecting KAT-TUN and your solo activities.”
The mention of KAT-TUN made Kame press his cheek against the cold surface under him and curl up, hand around his knees.
“Press conference?”
“Yes. Where you apologize for everything and explain yourself. Contacting Asuka wouldn't hurt you either.”
“I'll hold the conference.”
“And Asuka? She didn't take the settlement, probably wants more money. Or you, but now that it's public, I think money is her main motivation. She's a nice girl, but definitely not an idiot.”
“We'll meet her in court.”
* * *
2010
2010
Dark corners were growing together.
It was true and admittable: Kame spent way too much time alone in his apartment nowadays. He didn't feel like going out much, besides for work, and his supervisors were breathing on his neck for even visiting a convenience store. They had reasons, so Kame couldn't directly blame them.
Kitchen floor had become his new best friend, his new bed. Its coldness helped him think, cleared his mind. It was hard, so he never got too comfortable. Most important, it was steady and strong under him: he knew it would support him no matter what. The knowledge had a calming effect on him, had him breathe steadily and close his eyes safely without drifting off to sleep.
Actually lying on the kitchen floor was at the moment one of his main activities. He couldn't leave his house before holding his conference, and he didn't want to read his mail or watch TV. He didn't want to see anything possibly connecting with media. He knew he'd soon enough clash into his own scandal, his own life made into a derisory puppet show with voiceless actors. So kitchen floor, his new friend, was the closest thing to him for most days. He realized acting like a hopeless shut-in didn't help, that he should just get up and be strong, but somehow he couldn't. It was weird, because he was used to taking advantage of even the last shreds of his energy, dancing on the edges of his endurance. He was Kamenashi, just like he kept repeating to himself.
Door summer's vague sound woke him up from his thoughts.
It was probably Yamane. Or his assistant. His security system let in only chosen people – mostly friends and family. And work. It was safe, and he didn't have to bother checking every time someone came in. So far his apartment he'd move into a few years ago was completely fangirlproof.
Kame got up, eyes flickering towards his mirror. He looked decent enough, never mind all those hours spent on the floor. He wasn't pathetic enough yet not to shower or change once in a while. Other things were unnecessary. Kame ruffled his hair and made his way to the door, unlocking it without bothering using the eye sight on it. He yawned, fatigue getting to him as hours were passing towards the night, and opened the door. He was stopped halfway, though, when the sight in front of him was something he couldn't have expected.
Jin.
It felt like time stopped. Not on a romantic way, though. An absolutely horrified way. Kame couldn't even process all the confused, terrified questions rising in his mind. He could only stare. It was Jin, seemingly in a good condition, healthy and hair still curly and perfect. He was still taller than Kame, and he still had the same scent that slowly started to entice Kame, pull him into its own world.
Jin was beautiful. He had his flaws, and he most certainly wasn't perfect on any way possible, not from outside or inside. But yes, he was beautiful. On a twisted way Kame had no power of getting rid of.
The thing was, no matter how beautiful one looked, it didn't mean he was wanted. Or a good person in least.
“You're back,” Kame said without a moment of thinking. It just slipped. Jin didn't nod or shake his head, no response. Only a shrug.
“For a while. I wanted to see you.”
There was a strange look in his eyes, one Kame couldn't identify. It wasn't surprising, since the last time he'd been engrossed with Jin's eyes wasn't exactly in the near past. But it didn't matter, because Kame was alone and everything was going in the wrong direction and everything was changing and oh God, Jin was there and---
And Kame kissed him.
Thinking afterwards, it was only natural. It was his last attempt to seek something familiar, something comforting when everything and everyone were turning their backs on him. And Jin was familiar, if Kame bothered to ignore their past, and his body was warm and soft, calling Kame in.
The taller one answered without a moment's hesitation, and Kame pulled him in, closing the door with his hand. The kiss was wary at first, experimenting and slightly awkward, like the ones they had shared years ago, when they still were innocent and pure and had stars in their eyes. The phase didn't last long, just like then, and soon Kame could feel Jin's arm wrapping around his waist, his teeth biting his lower lip and tongue seeking for entrance.
As he buried his hand in Jin's hair, tugging on the soft locks, Kame could feel his brain start functioning again. It was Jin he was kissing. Jin, who was in America, and Jin, who had destroyed so much without really meaning to. Jin, who missed him. Kame hadn't kissed anyone but Asuka in over a year, and it sounded cruel, but it felt fucking good. So good actually that Kame broke the kiss with Jin only to pull on his hair, making him stretch his neck and then pressing lips, tongue and teeth against the milky skin.
Maybe he had a thing for forbidden fruits, at least considering the effect Jin's shaky moan had on him.
For a minute they were all wandering hands, clashes of fingers, teeth on skin and low, meaningless sounds. Then Kame could feel Jin moving, pushing him, and obediently he let the other man lead him towards his own bedroom. It felt right and wrong at the same time. This was Jin, and nothing was supposed to happen – he didn't want anything to happen, not with this person.
But Jin was there. He was there, only for Kame, wanting only him.
So Kame let it happen. He let Jin kiss him, undress him, press him against the mattress, demanding lips and hasty sighs. He let the other man explore his body once again, moaned into his touch, back arching and hands clenching on his sheets. He let Jin mark him as his own, his property. It wasn't true or honest, but it still comforted him..
(The reassuring, sweet nothings Jin whispered in Kame's ear while pushing inside him didn't matter, because in the morning he was gone. Gone with a memory and an unwillingly given piece of Kame's heart he still refused to give back.)
* * *
2010
2010
It felt rude, like invading on someone else's property. Kame sat next to his cell phone for an hour, biting his lip and trying to decide whether to do it or not.
But he wanted his heart back. His life back. And he wanted to know, before it was too late.
He wasn't someone to call back a person, not even after such an incident. It was an accident, an expected and self-caused one. He felt nervous. This could mean a change or a heartbreak. He just wanted to live.
His fingers shook when he finally pressed the name on his speed dial.
The phone rang exactly three times. Then someone picked up, voice hasty, almost scared. Lost.
“Why are you calling?”
Kame's surrendering sigh was only a lonely echo.
“Asuka?”
“Yes?”
“I'm sorry.”
* * *
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-09-17 11:19 pm (UTC)I really loved it. Bittersweet
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Date: 2010-09-18 07:23 pm (UTC)i'm glad you liked - loved - it. i was really unsure if i should post this at all, so thank you tons!
your comments always make my day ♥♥♥ (oh my god WHY ARE MY ANSWERS SO LAME. I'M SORRY.)
no subject
Date: 2010-09-18 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-18 01:24 am (UTC)WHY DID I EVEN READ IT. I KNEW THERE WAS GOING TO BE ANGST. But you talked about this on the phone the other day and I was curious so I kinda had to read.
...I really like it. But it really breaks my heart akjsdfhfdsj ;------; Fuck. Ffuuck.
FUCK YOU, YOU BITCH.
Read: ilu.Ahhh I love Akame's phone calls. I love the silences. I love your OCs. Okay, I don't love them. But you're good at creating OCs.
And I love the kitchen floor. ...Why is it always kitchen floor? ...Seriously, Kame on the kitchen floor can never be anything good ;;_______;
...Moreover, FUCK YOU FOR MAKING ME CRY AT 4AM.
Love you ♥
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Date: 2010-09-18 07:27 pm (UTC)YOU DESERVE ALL THE FIC CRYING IT THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD AFTER ALL THOSE DEATH!AU!UNHAPPY ENDING-AKAMES YOU'VE WRITTEN.
but thank you ♥ andfuckyoutooandilut
there's something enticing about kitchen floors. or i've read too much banana yoshimoto. but i think it's the floors.
♥♥♥
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Date: 2010-09-18 09:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-18 09:42 pm (UTC)BUT I SHALL WRITE FLUFF. BECAUSE I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE ANGST EITHER AND SDSFWRESDHFWAFD BRAIN DAMAGE.
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Date: 2010-09-18 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-18 10:04 pm (UTC)DIFFERENCE? MY KICKING HURTS.
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Date: 2010-09-18 02:55 am (UTC)love it!!!!
thanks for sharing~~~
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Date: 2010-09-18 07:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-18 11:12 am (UTC)Thanks for sharing!~ ^^
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Date: 2010-09-18 07:31 pm (UTC)you've left me speechless hun :( thanks for reading and commenting!
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Date: 2010-09-18 12:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-18 07:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-18 07:19 pm (UTC)I love their caracters, the situation, everything :)
thanks a ton for sharing :D
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Date: 2010-09-18 07:34 pm (UTC)i'm glad you liked it :D i was afraid people would hate me for pairing kame up with a random OC, so this takes a load off my chest!
thankyouuuu wait i said that already, well nevermind ♥♥♥
no subject
Date: 2010-09-19 07:11 am (UTC)the prompt was pregnant...and i so did not expect reading something like this...but its good!
loved how you interpreted kame having to "deal" with a pregnancy.
he didnt act like a perfect lil idol...and he turned to his most "unwanted" person.
jin and kame's roller coaster past...you wrote it beautifully...it wasnt all fluffy...and seemed so...real.
anyways..loved the fic! =)
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Date: 2010-09-19 05:11 pm (UTC)thank you honey ;_________; ♥ you're making me blush! i'm glad their relationship seemed real. i didn't want to make it all shiny cotton candy-type.
♥♥♥
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Date: 2010-09-19 03:44 pm (UTC)IT'S YOUR FUCKING FAULT THAT I'M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK. MY HANDS JUST SHAKE AND I CAN'T MAKE IT STOP.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YOU BASTARD.
THANKS A LOT HUN. ♥ IHATEU & ILUSM
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Date: 2010-09-19 05:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-19 07:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-20 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-21 09:14 am (UTC)Lovely, lovely writing.
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Date: 2010-10-12 06:12 pm (UTC)thank you so much honey ♥ i truly had (and have) my problems with this fic, but you made me like it a bit more. *hug*
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Date: 2010-10-12 09:18 pm (UTC)I know asking for a sequel it's pointless, but I'd really want to read more of this. Guess I'll have to be content with whatever my brain works out tonight.
And I liked it. MAkes me wonder what you can do when you don't hate what you're writing *laughs*
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Date: 2010-10-24 07:15 pm (UTC)But thank you :D And for the record, I tend to dislike almost everything I write. You know the type, always whining and yet publishing. This fic just somehow managed to trigger my hidden violent habits. </3 Longer writing processes make me go crazy.