801rabu

Title: Silent Vow
Pairing: Ohno/Nino
Rating: PG (some cursing in the way)
Genre: Friendship, mild angst, romance.
Chapter: 1/1
Word Count: ~2100
Disclaimer: Don’t own them since apparently, old rotten Jani does.
Summary: Earth quakes under Ohno’s feet. Nino braces himself to survive the aftershocks. He should be more supportive. But.

Notes: Summer’s been awfully busy, but I’m back. With a lil Miyagi Ohmiya no less ≥o≤ There’s a change of POV in the middle of the story, hope it doesn’t seem too shitty, just wanted to dig more into Nino’s feelings.

About the girl thing. I couldn’t care less who the fuck Ohno wants to share his life with as long as he’s happy. Period. What I do care is about those who have made him feel anxious, sad and probably prone to reconsider his staying in the business. Why do some people act as if they had rights over his life choices just cause they’re stuffing money into his Jimusho’s pockets? Why the fuck, you delusional gals? When all he has demonstrated during years of doubt is how willing he is to make sacrifices for the fans - when the only thing he’s delivered us so far is that rainbow smile of his… just… show him a bit of joy and good vibes in return and shut up, fuckers. Chutup.

“So?”

Is the only thing Nino has to say after the magazine comes out. He waits until the shooting is over, till the rest have already left the place.

Ohno just casts his glance down, defeated, as if expecting the other to bring this up. Nino knows he won’t let on how he really feels about all the fuss, but he pushes the issue anyway.

“Is this serious?”

The question is simple. The answer is not, for none of them. They have tiptoed over this matter many times, when the uncertainty of future gripped at their hearts, and both had a hunch of what might happen were they to fall in love. Like, really in love.

Nino had figured it between lines, in the ambiguous words and hidden context he fathomed in their conversations, and consciously or not, he behaved in consonance. It was obvious in the way he chose to invest in even more shallow relationships as years went by. Dating girls had become another of his games, one where he not so subtly played the role of an idol that airily told the world I’m fooling around. Many would deem his behavior towards women as immature, offensive even, but what else was a guy to do in his situation?

He interpreted this attitude as some sort of undeclared compromise. Staying single implied they were willing to keep on. They would stay just the same, living in a perpetual adolescence stage that would allow for Arashi to thrive. On the other hand, being in a relationship would mean their major focus lay elsewhere, and hence, their path together wavered, the future of the band at stake.

Nino tried not to acknowledge what this really translated as in his mind. Ohno staying in Arashi meant having him there, always near albeit intangible. Taboo material. Instead, handing his heart to someone outside their circle of five clearly meant betrayal. To what, he would never attempt to unveil, not even to himself.

Hawaii had been the point of inflection. As soon as Ohno’s words in that documentary reached him, all bells had rang out. They were over thirty now, too old to be playing the child-men act that had defined them so far. Nino had known about Ohno’s dissatisfaction as soon as they became acquaintances, and since that day, despite hearing how glad Ohno was he had chosen this path, the fear of him abandoning anytime had suddenly reignited.

The feelings of unfitting ran deep within Ohno, and no matter how much love he received from everyone, he would never fully believe he was suitable for this whole idol circus.

That’s why each time those shit magazines decided to lash out at their leader, Ohno felt like being beaten. But Nino… Nino felt like his heart had been ripped out. For those bastards were dragging him away, bringing old monsters to life and forcing Ohno to ponder for the hundredth time since he joined the Jimusho. Such times put Nino on the verge of a breakdown, his stomach so unsettled he couldn’t grab a bite in days, wondering when Ohno would give them the speech, never to see him again.

He had felt like walking over thin glass for months, and now, this explodes in his face.

As expected, Ohno clarifies nothing, he just seems to be broken. That much Nino perceives in his body language, but the cause, he can’t identify. He can’t decipher if it is because he’s so done of gossip stalkers meddling in his life, because he’s causing trouble to Arashi… or because.

Because he cares… actually cares about her.

“Nino…” Just an annoyed, hushed word. A plea for the other to leave the matter alone.

As Ohno leaves home, Nino just stands behind, his back hunching as he leans on the gritty surface of the corridor wall.

He apologizes in the next press conference that pops up.

I feel relieved. That surely means he’s chosen to continue with us. But then, why do I feel so rotten? If she was stealing him from Arashi, from our fans, from me… aren’t we all stealing him from her now? Perhaps, stripping him of his own right to live in real happiness? I’m pessimistic enough to be chasing for such a thing myself, the kind of sheer content they present in doramas definitely not something I’ve ever believed in.

As we dance in our new costumes in Miyagi, everyone notices that I cannot tear my eyes from him. I keep monitoring his mood like a fucking cop, analyzing every switch on his face. I feel disgusted at myself, especially when all I detect is utter misery oozing from his tiny form. Sure he laughs, he sings as beautifully as ever, but I know it’s all so fake that his efforts dig like sharp knives in my conscience. Is this what I wanted? To see him trying to pick up his broken self, just in order to stay? Acting remorseful, as if he owed his own life to everyone but himself?

I still don’t know what she meant, what she means to him. And I don’t wanna find out anymore – I just assume he wouldn’t be this crestfallen if she wasn’t important. It’s the way he’s kept her in the dark, what gives it a deeper transcendence.

I couldn’t give a fuck, the world knowing about the shags I collect. It’s my sincere way of conveying how trivial these flings are. But Arashi, or I’m talking about myself here, never heard a thing about her till this day. It stings. Guesses I ended up falling for the we’re more than friends – something akin to brothers slogan.

All of it is irrelevant now. Deep down I know neither our support nor the love most of the fans are showing him today is not enough to soothe the pain he’s feeling. It will never be enough compared to love.

And it just devastates me.

I think about the disaster that took place here years ago, when the earth’s surface quaked to oblivion, turning the lives of everyone inside out. It’s just a joke of destiny, that I finally come to understand how void my relationship with him is in this land of loss.

I’ve been in Tōhoku several times since March 2011. These people have shown such resilience… I’ve witnessed countless examples of struggle, seen people hoping for the future, fighting to keep on, waiting for something better to come. But what else is there to save in our case? The choice he has made sure is nothing but heartbreaking. Me waiting for nothing is… pathetic. I realize now, what I fool I have been for nearly twenty years. I thought everything would be fine as long as it did not change a bit. That he would never need anything aside from us - that I would never need more from him.

I grab his hand at the end of the concert, tightly. I can’t help my heart melting when he holds mine just as earnestly, our fingers interlacing with the usual easiness.

I forgot. This is all about him. I should be supporting, spoiling, shielding him from any more harm, not drowning in my own puddle of selfishness. I turn to him and there it is, that old look I know so well. A display of affinity that got me thinking no one could ever replace me, back in a time when I was young and naïve and saw things as simple as they seemed to reflect in his eyes. He’s searching for the old me, the one who would always be there, overriding his hesitation and holding him safe and steady even in the wildest of storms. The Nino who’s just disappeared, surrendering under the weight of truth, hiding in the hollow left by of unfounded wishes.

I pierce his features with intent eyes just the same, in a gesture that aims to be ailing - but my real meaning, he will never know.

And that’s where we break. When I don’t have a clue of what his feelings towards some woman I don’t even know are - when he’s no longer able to grasp the feelings echoing in my eyes.

Freshly showered and fulfillment present in our tired faces, we head to the rented car. The mood is warm during the ride, we feel appeased, but mostly because we made it. We were able to deliver love once again, even under such a trial. Arashi always prevails, and we are silently proud, our exchanges soft and full of comforting amity.

Minutes later we’re on our way to our rooms, my shoulder bumping with Ohno’s. Nothing new, though it is for me, at the light of how meaningless our siamesism has turned. I always believed our closeness shared body and mind, yet it seems it only involved physical comfort. Or worse, a mere habit. A kink forced upon him by no other than me, who indulged in harassing each centimeter of his body since day one.

When Aiba disappears into his room with a silly gonna have sweet disco star dreams and we’re left alone, I go out of my way and detach myself from him. Was it too forced? Maybe, but I have no time to picture how resentful the gesture looked, for I go into panic-stricken shock when he closes the distance I tried to gain by holding my wrist.

I keep a steady pace towards my door and look at him in faked, aloof curiosity. Hoping, to no avail, that even after long years of friendship he won’t see through, praying for the tautness in my chest not to be showing in eyes that were always open to him. He clenches the wrist in his grasp and tugs abruptly, making us both stop. His hands clasps against mine. It’s touch burns.

“I chose Arashi right?”

His tone is stern, almost scolding. Is he throwing it in my face? Blaming on me that he had to reject her, publicly, because of a foolish promise that was never spoken?

“Don’t keep stirring shit up. I know it was hard enough.”

I try to regain some dignity with those categorical words, dispel the way his annoyed remark is making me feel like utter trash. About to snap, I try to remind my pissed off self that today is all about making him feel better. I hope he buys the harsh voice I just used, my strained smile, are meant to address the hard weekend he’s gone through.

“Kazu…” it’s rasped, tired. “So was it for you too.”

I look at him in sheer terror.

Our hands still joined, my legs suddenly not strong enough to continue, I’m left no subterfuges.

My mask drops as I scan no trace of ambiguity in his face. Don’t know if I should be surprised, glad that he actually understood, or afraid that he finally understood. I go for falsely neutral, cause again, I don’t really know what connotations those words might enclose. He chuckles, and it infuriates me, the fucking clueless fool.

“Stoic. Always so collected. I envy you Nino.”

Just what I expected, telling me I’m a heartless bastard. Guess my obstinacy on playing it cool serves me right.

“But I see past your efforts.” His smile is now kind of fond, his eyes fix mine in a soft caress. “Cut it out already… don’t try to hide it. I know you. I know.”

I’m speechless. My eyes duck down, suddenly unable to hold his gaze. I’m getting flustered, anxious, but it’s only out of utter humiliation. I try to snatch my hand free of his hold, walk away now that I’m still holding some composure, but he just grips me tighter. I feel like crying, impotence consuming me. Is he adamant on making this as blatant as possible?

“I know Nino… about the thing in the shadows. Just as you do. You just don’t believe.”

My blood freezes. My mouth goes slack and my eyes get wide as saucers, but are still unable to face the man in front of me. Am I, perharps, trembling? Sighing in defeat, Ohno pulls my hand towards him and embraces me. It’s a sturdy, manly hug that only lasts for a moment, but his teary words, hushed against my ear, make up for the lack of sentiment.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He lets me go just after, my hand aching at the loss of contact, my whole body shaking under the weight of unvoiced allusions.

He follows into his room, never breaking eye contact with me. Oyasumi he says, and I’m left no time to respond before he’s out of sight.

“Oyasumi… nasai” I answer finally, in voiceless lip movements.

Disasters may come and go, but humans are more than able to overcome. I learned in this land, that we just need to trust each other in order to carry on.

End

There. A bit of Ninomiya to soothe leader’s sadness. A bit of Ohno to soothe Nini’s restlessness ─ ˽ ─ We don’t know what this girl really means for Ohno, so neither does the fic try to clarify it. Guessed I’d rather leave the issue as it is - not fond of making unfounded assumptions.

Just as Nino in this story, I’d like to say I don’t care whether she is or not important, but I’d be lying. I reeeeeally hope for it to be just a fling, cause if not, if he actually cared about her… oh fuck. I can’t even begin to imagine how he must be feeling towards those who forced him to break up and say he’ll never see her again.

Riida, anyways, we’re with ya (and Neens sure also is ♥).

Ah! Also, the real finale of Monster is in the way, promise. Thanks A LOT to those who read, commented and waited for my lazy ass to update. I’m really happy about the feedback I received so far guys, hope the end stands up for the support you’ve given me. Ja-----!