Fic: Anywhere Is 6/8

[rikke_leonhart]

Title: Anywhere Is 6/8
Pairing(s): Ohno/Nino, Ohno/OFC, Nino/OFC 
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Unfortunately.
Word count: ~5,300
Warning(s): Slash, het, angst in large doses
Summary: Two years ago, the world tilted. Now with the world almost having forced itself upright, it tilts again. Can four people make up for the five they used to be? 
Author's Notes: Updates might be irregular. Huge thank yous to all the crazy Mods ♥

| Earlier chapters |

*
The pictures on the pages weren’t lying.

The pictures weren’t even that clear, but there was no mistaking the hunched figure on them, a woman walking next to him in some of them. Nino remembered more than a year ago, in early March, when it had been him and Miho on those pages, and he felt both relief and pity at seeing these now.

Nino resolutely and stubbornly shoved any stray thoughts away, he couldn’t bear it. Not yet. Miho’s tear-stricken face showed on his eyelids every time he closed his eyes.

“I hope Leader’s alright,” Aiba said softly, sinking down on the couch. “I can’t imagine how it feels.”

“Aiba-chan, you’re in the spotlight every single day,” Nino felt the need to say even though he knew what Aiba meant. Aiba threw him a look that said that he was well aware that Nino was just being a dick.

“I wonder how Fukumori-san is handling this,” Aiba mused, ignoring him, “it has to be a shock.”

Nino grunted. He tried not to think about Ohno’s fiancée, since that didn’t feel any less painful than thinking about Miho, for some reason. It just hurt to think. And feel. Maybe he should just stop doing both.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it.

“She knew the risk,” he said finally, conceding that he couldn’t avoid thinking about it. “Of dating Ohno Satoshi, I mean. Especially when they returned to Japan. I’m certain he told her about it, I can’t imagine that he didn’t.”

Aiba shrugged. “I didn’t expect them to be spotted so quickly. I hope they’ll get through it.”

“If she’s serious about this, then she’ll stick to him,” Nino lowered his eyes. He didn’t know why he said that or why it hurt.

“I really hope so,” Aiba said, sighing. “He seems so happy with her.”

Nino perked up at that. “You know, you mentioned that about something being weird about her…”

Aiba looked vaguely guilty. “It’s not nice to think that, not with how happy he seems. That has to be first priority, you know?”

“But I agree with you, something seems off,” Nino said, then, wondering how to approach this in the best way without sounding too much like a scorned lover. “I went to see him some time ago,” he started, and that was safe enough. “And Fukumori-san was there, of course. They were busy planning the wedding.”

His phone vibrated again.

“And?” Aiba prompted.

“I kind of interrupted them, but they were good about it and let me in. We talked a bit, and just, suddenly, I knew what you meant about something not being quite right.”

Aiba furrowed his brows. “I don’t know why…”

“Me neither,” Nino admitted. “But it was weird.”

“What were you talking about?”

“Fitting his clothes,” Nino deadpanned. It was the truth and Aiba looked vaguely disappointed. “It wasn’t anything dramatic.”

“It’s difficult to talk to him when she’s there,” Aiba then said, “I mean, I don’t know what to say. Does she know about us?”

Nino frowned. “He told me she knows about us, about all the silly things we did, but I don’t think she cares particularly.”

Aiba appeared to mull that over for a long moment, and then he looked up at Nino. “Wait,” he said, “you said you interrupted them. You mean, you hadn’t planned on going there?”

Nino felt his palms get sweaty. “There were just some things I wanted to talk to him about and I forgot to call him beforehand.”

The door to the dressing room opened, and Sho walked in, looking stressed. “Why aren’t you answering your phones?”

“We’re happy to see you, too,” Nino said with a frown, because this wasn’t typical Sho behavior.

“I forgot mine,” Aiba said apologetically, and Nino shrugged when Sho looked at him.

“I ignored it.”

“Unbelievable,” Sho muttered, shaking his head. Nino flipped his phone open just as Sho said, “Jun is bringing Satoshi-kun with him today and he messaged you guys to let you know. They can be here any moment.”

Nino stared at the screen.

Leader is coming with me today, is that okay?

And; Nino, seriously, will you be okay with that?

His fingers tightened on the phone. “Okay.”

Aiba’s fingers squeezed his shoulder. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

You have no idea, Nino thought and didn’t even bother to force a smile he knew both of them would see right through. “I’m fine.”

The door opened and Jun stepped in, looking weary. No Ohno in tow. He stopped and looked at their searching gazes. “Just a moment.”

He walked over to them and beckoned for all of them to gather.

“How is he really doing?” Sho asked softly.

Jun shook his head and he stared at Nino. “I think shit has hit the fan,” he hushed, “they were arguing when I got there last night. Go easy on him, I’ll be surprised if you can get two words out of him.”

Nino’s stomach jolted in a not entirely painful manner. “Seriously?”

“Apparently, Fukumori-san wasn’t entirely prepared for the media attention,” Jun elaborated, throwing a glance at the door, as if expecting Ohno to stand there listening to them. “Or, that’s what I think. I didn’t hear what they were saying. I think she’s fled to China for the time being, until everything cools down a bit.”

“Fuck,” Sho hissed, “that can’t be easy. So he’s on his own now, with his knee and everything?”

Jun nodded, biting his lip.

“We can help him,” Aiba said, and in that moment, Ohno walked in, obviously reluctant. He hadn’t been back in this room in years. Aiba grinned, and it was genuine. “Leader!”

Ohno’s lips tilted into a tight smile, and Nino’s chest hurt. It had to be hard being back here with so many memories, but just as he thought that, it hit him that bringing him here today of all days had been a very bad idea.

“Jun-kun,” he started, eyes darting from Ohno to Jun, “I really don’t think that-”

But Jun silenced him with a look that clearly said later. Everything in him was screaming that this is wrong, that this would hurt Ohno more than sitting at home, brooding would, and he could only hope that Jun had realized this and considered it carefully before taking that decision. Or maybe, he hoped that Jun hadn’t realized it and was blissfully unaware of what this day could possibly do to Ohno.

“We should head down, then,” Sho said, getting to hit feet.

Nino couldn’t still his racing heart, every beat intimidating with worry and a touch of dread. This couldn’t be good for Ohno, not when he had so much to think of already. He stayed back as much as he could when the others filed out, but Sho had an arm slung around Ohno, motioning for them to go ahead.

“We’ll keep together,” Aiba insisted and Nino didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Jun and Aiba walked slightly in front and Nino fell in step with Ohno and Sho, and he glanced over at Sho before addressing Ohno.

“Oh-chan, you know, it might not be the best idea coming with us today,” he tried softly, and to his surprise, Ohno nodded his agreement readily.

“I know,” he returned, “but it’s this or sitting at home.”

Ohno’s voice told Nino that Ohno wasn’t even sure which the worse option was. He didn’t know if he’d be rejected, but he bravely reached out to touch Ohno’s hand, maybe to lend him some strength when Ohno didn’t want to reach for it, and he smiled when one of Ohno’s fingers hooked around his own.

*
None of them were focusing properly, even when reprimanded more than once. All of them kept stealing glances at Ohno who sat by the mirror, looking at them, and Nino couldn’t read his expression. Was this a good thing? He didn’t know.

Nino had no idea how it felt to be unable to join them in dance rehearsal – dancing that had once been Ohno’s life. Ohno, who’d rather seen himself as a dancer than an idol.

Nino had no idea how it felt.

When Ohno slowly stood up, head bent, Nino knew it’d been too much. He hurried over to Ohno who was heading for the door, but Ohno just turned to him, obviously having heard his footfalls, saying quietly; “It’s enough.”

It was enough.

Nino realized it’d been enough for a long time.

*
Ohno wasn’t answering his phone, but Nino wasn’t worried, not really and not yet. He’d been right all along; bringing Ohno back with them like this hadn’t been right, but he also hoped he was right in thinking that Ohno would pull through. Besides, Nino was on a mission. He needed to convince Ohno to return to them, and he thought his chances were a lot better now that Fukumori had left Japan for the moment.

He wasn’t sure how to go about it now, though. It was obvious that Ohno needed time and space now, but Nino wasn’t ready to give it, not when Nino just had given up one of the most stable presences in his life.

He didn’t regret letting Miho go, but he regretted being the cause of her tears, and he strongly wished that one day, she’d look back and not hate him, maybe come to see that Nino had done the right thing. He wished he could stop hating himself.

But he didn’t want to think about this now, even though the alternatives weren’t much better. Thoughts of Ohno were a constant, be it worries for his health or trying to think up arguments that would hold solid when Ohno countered their attempts of getting him back. It exhausted him.

The silence of his apartment wasn’t helping. When he’d lived here alone before Miho moved in, it’d felt like home, hours of gaming, laughter and words having been absorbed by the walls and thrown back at him, but when Miho had moved in, it’d become another place. The infamous woman’s touch, but honestly, Nino hadn’t felt it. He’d assumed that it was because it’d been his space before it became theirs, but now he understood what his mind subconsciously had been screaming at him for so long.

He didn’t know if he’d expected the apartment to magically revert back – he didn’t know if he’d actually thought that far at all, somehow he doubted it – but the empty spaces seemed even more wrong now. It’d been all wrong with Miho in it, and now it was also wrong without her.

Could he do anything right?

He figured he could. He could do his very best, for all their sakes, for Arashi’s sake. He’d have to keep fighting, because Arashi was and had always been, best with five people, or else their songs had been a mockery, and Nino honestly couldn’t bear that thought.

Even if Ohno didn’t want to talk about it, they had to, because Nino had a feeling that nothing was going to come out of tiptoeing around it forever. Perhaps they would only have a real chance of Ohno coming back if all cards were on the table, and they had to give it their best. Wasn’t that what Ohno had said?

That if he couldn’t give it his best, then he shouldn’t?

Nino was going to fight tooth and nail to get him back. Even if he was angry, even if he was confused and also hurt, he would keep to that, doing absolutely everything he could. If that meant coming clean, then he’d have to do that.

Again, Nino wished he could just write a song about it, get it out and move on, but he knew that it’d be the world’s longest song – he had a lot to say on the subject. However, he’d have to keep his silence for now, because Ohno had chosen silence and distance once again.

Nino could respect that. And if Ohno hadn’t come to his senses in a couple of days, Nino would pay him a visit.

*
“I hate location shooting,” Jun grumbled, but Nino knew he didn’t mean it.

“It’s just because it’s too early,” Nino said, but he knew what Jun meant. It was away from their turfs, away from what they knew and they couldn’t just step away and take a moment to themselves if they cameras were too much. That was much easier when they were working in their home environment

But Nino was also relieved to be away from Tokyo. Tokyo meant Ohno and he wasn’t quite ready for that yet, because Ohno was still keeping distance and Nino’s resolution was wearing down. Every time he sat in his car, he had to force himself not to drive in direction of Ohno’s apartment, he had to think of nothing else than the place he was supposed to be driving to.

Being in another town away from Tokyo was good.

In Tokyo, Ohno was hiding from the press conference that told that yes, Ohno was in Tokyo, yes, Ohno was with a woman, and no, Ohno wasn’t returning to Arashi as far as Arashi and Ohno were informed.

Stop thinking.

“Tomorrow,” Jun said with a sigh, “and we’ll be home.”

Home. Nino tried not to think about it. It was still an open wound and it would be a long time from now before he could think of it.

“Yeah,” he settled for, noncommittally, and he hoped Jun wouldn’t follow up, but he wasn’t that lucky.

“I bet Miho is enjoying the silence for a few days,” Jun continued with a grin, but when faced with Nino’s forced smile, his merriment faded as quickly as it had come. “What’s wrong?”

Nino supposed he had to come clean about other things as well. “We – we broke up.”

Jun had clearly not been expecting this, and Nino couldn’t blame him. He doubted that anyone had seen it coming when he himself had only realized it because he’d talked to Ohno.

Ohno. Damn.

The comforting touch on his upper arm, an inquiry he could quell if he wanted. “Nino, what happened?”

How much could he say, how many secrets could he reveal that weren’t his to tell? The words felt heavier than ever, despite the relief he’d felt when he’d said it the first time. It had been a brief respite, something he didn’t know if he’d deserved.

“Things weren’t working out,” he forced out and it wasn’t even a lie. He could see how Jun wasn’t satisfied with that, but it was difficult and he had to tread carefully, because he had to talk to Ohno first. He didn’t want to face Jun alone when Jun found out how the two of them had single-handedly ruined Arashi as they’d been.

“But I thought –” Jun started and then stopped, and Nino chuckled humorlessly.

“Yeah, so did I.”

Jun’s hand slid in place on his shoulder, meant to soothe but it felt weighty and uncomfortable. Nino couldn’t bring himself to shrug it off.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jun said eventually. “Do Sho and Masaki know?””

Nino shook his head. “Oh-chan knows.”

Jun frowned, and with good reason, Nino thought. How would Ohno, who hadn’t been a close friend for years, know about such a serious matter before the people who had stayed?

“I went to talk to him,” Nino revealed, carefully retelling the night. “Because I was thinking about something Miho-chan’s father had said. Ohno-kun helped me think.”

Jun looked like he was failing to comprehend how that worked out.

“I figured he’d know about marriage,” Nino said then, throwing Jun a look. Jun got it. “He talked about things I knew I’d never be able to commit to.”

“Honestly,” Jun said carefully after a stretching silence. “I can’t imagine you in a marriage.”

Nino snorted, he couldn’t help it. “You’re not the only one. Kaneyama-san got that right, at least.”

He’d been afraid of Jun’s pity, but he should have known better. Jun was steady beside him, offering support if he needed it, and just once more, Nino would be selfish and hold on to the lifeline Jun had thrown him.

“Has she moved out, then?”

Nino shrugged. “I haven’t seen her since. Her things are still there, but she hasn’t been back to get them.”

“Nino, that’s awful,” Jun breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing you can do about it,” Nino shrugged again. “I put myself in this situation, now I have to live with it.”

Jun was silent for long moments after this and Nino was grateful.

*
While they’d been gone, Ohno had crawled out from his hiding.

Nino was relieved that Ohno had stopped barricading himself away from them, but he was also infuriated, because Ohno was avoiding him. Not that Nino himself had done much to get Ohno alone so they could talk, no, he was still trying to figure out how to talk about it and what he wanted out of it.

What was he really trying to achieve? He wanted Ohno back with them, he wanted them to be able to talk and joke like they’d used to do, but he simply didn’t know if that was possible. So much had happened, too much, for them to just revert back.

Nino felt his cheeks flush. He didn’t know if he could back to everything before they’d slept together, not when he’d had Ohno so close.

He thought back to what Ohno had said. Are you what she wants?

What did he want? He’d been trying for so long to please Miho, be what she wanted and needed, but now that he wasn’t, was it finally time to think about what he wanted for himself?

If he was going to be honest, he wouldn’t mind a repeat of what had happened between him and Ohno, it was just that after Ohno had left, he’d never considered it a possibility. He’d never bothered to think twice about it. He’d never allowed himself to think twice about it. And then Miho had come along, and he had gladly let all thoughts of sex with Ohno fade into the background.

But he’d never regretted it, even if he’d thought that Ohno had. And Ohno did regret it, evidently. Nino still couldn’t bring himself to. He could believe it if Ohno had been scared of destroying Arashi, but if only Ohno had stayed, if he hadn’t left…

Life was filled with so many what ifs, but it wouldn’t do to dwell on them, everything wouldn’t magically turn out alright if he stayed focused on the what could’ve beens.

He had to move forward, and he had every intention of bringing Ohno with him in whatever way he could.

But that in itself proved to be an obstacle that seemed almost impossible to overcome.

Fukumori. The more time Ohno spent with them, the more he seemed to come back to them, being the man they’d once known, but Nino feared the day Fukumori decided to return from China and face the music. Would Ohno let himself be reminded of the way he was with Fukumori, the life he’d crafted without Arashi in it? Could Ohno even be Arashi if he was married to her?

It was a shock when he realized quite suddenly that he knew what it was that he thought was off about Fukumori. He also knew that he had to talk to Aiba about it.

“What have you been talking about when Fukumori-san suddenly comes off as weird to you?”

Aiba looked startled that he wasn’t greeted with a good morning. “Ehm, what?”

Nino tapped his foot impatiently. “I’m serious. Do you remember?”

“Not really,” Aiba started, but seeing Nino’s tense look, he rushed; “I mean, we talked about…”

“Come on,” Nino encouraged. “It’s important.”

“I just remember that it was difficult to talk to him properly when she was there,” Aiba shrugged. “She didn’t seem like she was interested in what I had to say. She seemed politely bored.”

“So you were talking about Arashi?”

Aiba nodded, arching his brows, and he looked as if he was remembering things. “Always, whenever I mentioned something we used to do, she looked away or left.”

Nino didn’t know if he should laugh or cry at his triumph. He nodded, instead, mind reeling with the revelation. “She doesn’t like Arashi.”

The expression on Aiba’s face would’ve been priceless if it had been in any other situation than this, but as it was, it wasn’t funny at all. It was confusion and quiet devastation. “She doesn’t like us?”

Nino nodded. “She doesn’t like Arashi – what we were and what we could be with Oh-chan back with us. It’s so obvious. She’s holding him back.”

“Nino, I don’t think – I mean, are you sure?” Aiba sounded skeptic, but even if Nino conceded that Aiba had a point, he was also very convinced that he was right about this. It made so much sense.

“It’s obvious,” Nino returned, “when I went to see him, we were talking about fitting the clothes, right? And when I mentioned him getting married in a concert costume, she left.”

Aiba wrinkled his nose. “With the risk of sounding like Jun, I think you could be wrong.”

Nino felt like stomping his foot in frustration. “It makes sense!”

“No, Nino, it doesn’t,” Aiba said with a sigh. “It really doesn’t. What if she’s really not holding him back? What if he wants this life?”

Even being well aware of the fact that Ohno had changed a great deal during the past two years, it just didn’t sit right with Nino. Something in this entire situation had gone horribly wrong, and Nino had no idea if it could be corrected. He’d hoped that he’d have Aiba’s support in this, because Aiba’s support meant everything when he felt like giving up.

But he wasn’t ready to give up, not yet, not when he’d barely gotten started. “But just think about it – if, if she’s holding him back, how can we make him see that?”

“Maybe it’s not really our business,” Aiba began hesitatingly, and even if Nino wanted to refute that, he knew he couldn’t. No, it wasn’t their business, not since Ohno had left willingly. Or not so willingly, Nino’s mind supplied, because he’d only left because of something they’d done together. He wondered if he could make Ohno believe that when Ohno seemed so hell bent on punishing himself for something that wasn’t his fault in the first place.

Yes, Ohno had been the one to kiss him, but Nino hadn’t pushed him away, the thought hadn’t entered his mind at all. He’d wanted it, welcomed it with open arms when the opportunity presented itself. If he’d known what it’d cause he might have thought twice, but he wasn’t sure. He’d wanted it so much that he remembered feeling the desperation through the drunk and otherwise pleasant haziness.

“Nino, Nino,” Aiba said but didn’t offer more.

Nino really wished he knew what he wanted now.

Besides Ohno.

*
Nino didn’t like going home to his apartment anymore, he realized as he closed the door behind him, stepping into the silence.

Miho’s things were still scattered around the place, trinkets and clothes, shoes and imprints and teasing hints of a future he could’ve had.

No, he told himself truthfully. It couldn’t have happened. However, the knowledge of the inevitable did little to quench the stony and stale silence, and Nino wished that Miho would come back and retrieve her things, because maybe when she’d done that, he could drive the last taunting ghosts away. But until then, what could he do? She wasn’t answering his texts (not that he’d written her a lot, but still) and he didn’t want to call her, knowing that he’d be faced with voicemail.

He could do little else than apologize and apologize, and he hoped one day that it would be enough, but even knowing that he deserved it, he was fed up with it. Apologies were running through his mind so often that he had to be careful not to spew them out at random times.

He didn’t want to think about this any longer, he was sick of it; he wanted to push it away so he could pull it forward someday when he didn’t hate himself so much anymore.

There was so much he also needed to think about, things that were more important as it were.

Like Ohno.

But thoughts of Ohno eventually led back to Miho and what he’d left behind, because no matter how much he tried to quell it, he couldn’t help but feel the extreme guilt. The relationship with Miho hadn’t worked because he couldn’t be himself, truly and fully with no pretences, and he couldn’t tell her all his secrets, not like he’d been able to talk to Ohno about everything.

Or, almost everything, as it’d turned out.

But he had a sneaking suspicion that he’d been chasing Ohno’s shadow in Miho the entire time. When Ohno had left, he’d been hurt and confused to the moon and back, and he’d spent such a long time and lonely nights trying to figure just what had gone wrong that night. Almost a year. And on top of that, Arashi had been trying to steady their feet with two fewer, and it’d been hard. When he’d met Miho, it’d felt like being rescued, and he’d repaid her with this; unconsciously comparing her to someone she couldn’t possibly measure up to.

Guilt was gnawing at him.

He still wasn’t entirely sure he knew exactly what had happened, or what exactly that had made Ohno flee (because Nino simply refused to believe it had just been freaking out).

But if it was, he had a lot to do now with convincing Ohno he hadn’t done anything that Nino hadn’t wanted him to. He couldn’t do anything from here, though, from the apartment full of memories that could’ve been but never came to be, and he didn’t know what he could do. He’d already spent nights back in his mother’s house (and his room had felt small and cramped and reminded Nino of all the reasons why he’d moved out in the first place, but it was warm and safe and home), and he didn’t want to trouble her more than necessary.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t tell any of the others, not yet.

He still feared their disappointment so much it made him shiver just from thinking about it.

He wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, or even a sensible thing. He highly suspected that he was out of his mind for even considering it, but he wanted to take advantage of Fukumori not being in Japan and being able to hold Ohno back.

Grabbing a few things, Nino left the apartment faster than he’d arrived there.

*
The last time he’d arrived here uninvited, he’d ended up so confused and yet so clearheaded, and he had single-handedly thrown his world out of order. The last time he’d been here, he’d met Fukumori-san, Ohno’s fiancée, and he’d been so annoyed at her for reasons he’d only just begun to understand.

Ohno was still politely avoiding him, and even if it wasn’t fair play to corner him, Nino didn’t care. He wanted answers, and he didn’t care if he came across as rude or bratty. Ohno had known him for more than a decade, so he’d have to be used to it by now even if space and time had expanded between them.

He was surprised when Ohno let him in on the first try – he’d been fully prepared to coax or shout, but that wasn’t necessary.

Ohno wasn’t saying anything, and it was just the same, because Nino didn’t know how to start either. Nino was spared from thinking of a subject when he glanced back at Ohno, who was walking slower than normal.

“Are you alright?”

Ohno nodded tersely.

“Liar,” Nino spat out lowly, stopping and turning fully to Ohno, stepping over and slipping an arm around him, ignoring how Ohno stiffened against him.

He didn’t resist, though.

“Did you go overboard,” Nino said, mostly to himself, “or are some days just worse than others?”

Ohno eased off of him and sank down into a chair with a wince. He shrugged. “I’ve been there a lot.”

That explained it; a lot of everything. Instead of sitting alone in the apartment, Ohno had been heading out, taking everything out on his body instead. If there was one thing Nino both admired and loathed, it was Ohno’s relentless discipline of himself. It was horrible to have missed it and also hating it for how hard Ohno always pushed to be better.

Something they’d talked about weeks ago (or was it already months? Time was passing scarily fast) and he looked around. “You have crutches somewhere, right?”

Irritation flashed across Ohno’s face for a moment, so fleeting Nino could’ve imagined it.

“Let me guess,” Nino sighed, “you don’t like using them.”

“I don’t like feeling like an invalid,” Ohno said sharply and even if it was far from a cheery subject, Nino relished in getting a reaction from Ohno other than the carefully constructed avoidance he’d become acquainted with since Ohno came back.

“That’s stupid,” Nino frowned. “You’re not invalid.”

Ohno shook his head like Nino couldn’t possibly understand, and how could he? “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Nino repeated the words. “You don’t want to talk about it. That’s all you ever say. Then what can we talk about?”

“I don’t know,” Ohno sighed, “you keep showing up here, demanding to talk. I’m fine with not talking.”

That was such an Ohno thing to say.

“I’m so tired of being angry with you and arguing with you,” Nino admitted, “can we stop?”

“I don’t know,” Ohno shrugged, looking up at him where Nino was still standing. “Can we?”

“There’s still so much we need to talk about, but you don’t want to. How can that solve anything?”

Ohno heaved a breath and he looked down, lowered his eyes. “Maybe,” he said slowly, almost dreadfully reluctant, “maybe we don’t have anything to talk about. Not anymore.”

“Shut up, don’t say that,” Nino warned him, feeling cold. “Don’t even think of saying that.”

Ohno glared defiantly back at him.

Nino didn’t know what he was doing, but he closed the small distance between them, reached down and held on to Ohno’s shoulders, pressing forward, but Ohno turned his head and Nino’s lips touched the side of Ohno’s mouth instead of full on.

Ohno pushed at him, back, back, back, frantically, “Fuck, Nino, let me go –”

“Don’t you see,” Nino breathed, trying to catch Ohno’s flailing arms, “that I wanted this? That you didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, let go –”

Nino hadn’t counted on Ohno actually being that much stronger, but Ohno hadn’t been joking when he said he’d been to the gym often. He pushed at Nino, seriously, and Nino stumbled back.

“This isn’t a drama, Kazu,” Ohno said, brokenly and out of breath. “It doesn’t work like that. Maybe it would be better if you left.”

Nino stared at him as emptiness, bitter and acidic emptiness, settled in his stomach, and even if he’d realized before this that Ohno had changed, this was it. This wasn’t the Ohno he’d grown up with.

“Maybe it would.”

*