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rikke_leonhart) wrote2010-09-11 04:40 pm
Fic: Anywhere Is 7/8
Pairing(s): Ohno/Nino, Ohno/OFC, Nino/OFC
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Unfortunately.
Word count: ~4,300
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: It's almost the end! Huge thank yous to all the crazy Mods ♥
| Earlier chapters |
*
The glances he received from Sho and Aiba during the next few days were expected, and Nino couldn’t even bring himself to care. He didn’t know what Jun had told them about Miho, and he didn’t even care.
He cared more about the fact that he might just have ruined all chances of Ohno ever returning to them, because even if Nino was tired of Ohno’s constant evasiveness, he knew that the others hadn’t given up hope yet. And he didn’t think they should, either – he just didn’t want them to discover how he had possibly burnt that bridge. For good.
He hadn’t talked to Ohno for days (and to be honest, Nino hadn’t even tried to call), but he’d listened when Sho had informed them of his whereabouts, even as Ohno seemed to be pulling further away.
Aiba’s unhappiness was tangible even if he was trying to hide it, and Nino felt like an ass. If everything had seemed impossible before this, it was nothing compared to the chaos of the present reality.
“I’m alright,” Nino said, cradling a cup of coffee. He didn’t feel awake.
Jun looked at him as if he didn’t believe a word that was coming out of his mouth. “Really.”
At most points in their lives and careers, they’d respected each others’ privacy, but now was not one of those times.
Nino sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”
Jun shrugged. “How about the fact that you don’t want to talk about Ohno-kun?”
Trying to stifle a wince, Nino looked squarely at Jun. “I’m just tired of everything revolving around him.”
At least that wasn’t a lie.
“What if we get him back?” Jun pressed, leaning forward, “Then you’d have to talk to him.”
“That’d be different, because then I’d have him here, facing me, and seriously, I don’t want to talk about ghosts anymore.”
Jun’s look was unreadable and Nino desperately hoped that Jun wasn’t looking right through him, cutting to the core of the matter with a surgeon’s precision like he almost always did.
“Do you believe?”
Nino looked down at his coffee, swirling the black liquid up the sides, over and over. “I want to.”
He was sure that if he looked right now, he’d see Jun’s eyes softening. “We can get him back,” Jun said softly. “We can and we will.”
Nino wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or foreboding. Could he ever work with Ohno again, knowing that Ohno regretted and hated everything they’d done and shared? “I need a break from everything.”
“I know it’s hard for you,” Jun started but didn’t continue further, and Nino couldn’t help but think no, you don’t. If Jun thought that it was only Miho haunting his thoughts, then Nino had the power to rectify it, but he didn’t want Jun to know.
He didn’t want Jun to look at him as if he were a stranger.
“Yeah,” he said, mouth dry. “It’ll get better.”
It had to. Every other option and possible outcomes were unacceptable.
*
Ohno was appearing as if nothing was wrong with the world in general, and Nino fiercely envied his acting abilities.
“A drink, Satoshi-kun?”
Ohno waved Sho off with a shielded smile, quiet words of bad things happen when I drink, and Nino furrowed his brow.
Throat tight, he ignored Ohno’s words. They didn’t have to mean what he thought they did.
He supposed that it was a part of Ohno’s guarded mind, it could just be an attempt at keeping his tongue in check.
It could be so much more.
But Nino was only now noticing a lot of things, he’d only just realized today how Ohno didn’t really drink alcohol with them, how he always stayed near enough for them to catch him if he stumbled, but not near enough for the arms that had been slung over shoulders like second nature. He seemed just out of reach, just far enough to stay out of too close vicinity.
He was further from them than ever. Aiba, of course, was ignoring the defense mechanisms the best way he’d learnt, scooting closer when Ohno moved away, crowding when Ohno pushed for space.
“How are rehearsals coming along?”
It didn’t escape Nino’s notice that Sho and Jun exchanged a glance that meant more than Nino could discern at that moment in time.
“Better,” Jun said carefully, obviously remembering how Ohno had run from them during the practice he’d been invited to. “We’re doing our best.”
Ohno nodded and then smiled wryly. “Good thing I’m not there to distract you.”
That wasn’t what they’d meant, Nino wanted to say, but he kept his silence. All the words he said came out wrong recently, destroying more than he could gain, leaving him with less than he’d started out with. It was such a dangerous territory, one he wasn’t the least comfortable with travelling in at all.
“Oh-chan, it always feels weird now, without you,” Aiba mended cautiously; “we work better in fives.”
For the first time, united as five, the topic had been breached. By some tacit understanding they’d only gone one on one until now, but they could all feel it; things were changing, faster than they’d expected and wanted, and they didn’t even know why. But it was different.
Ohno didn’t respond immediately, just looked at his fingers for a long moment, silent, waiting. “I don’t want this. I know you all want it, I know you feel that everything will turn back to what it was, but it won’t. Everything isn’t like before. You just need to realize this – I don’t want this.”
Nino felt more than heard Jun’s sharp intake of breath.
Ohno’s smile was wistful, his eyes kinder than they’d felt in a long time. “This kind of world isn’t for me anymore. It’s your world, not mine.”
Sho’s jaw squared and Nino recognized the stubbornness as it kicked in. It’d been a long time since he’d seen it and Sho had been strangely passive in this game of push and pull with Ohno’s resolve, but now it seemed that Sho’s tenacity had woken.
“That’s not true,” Sho’s words were calmer than his expression, though that didn’t say much, “and you know it. You know everyone is waiting for you to come back. If you don’t want it, that’s fine, but you can’t control the wishes of others.”
He looked like a cornered animal for a brief instant, Nino thought, gazing unashamedly at Ohno simply because he could. It already seemed like years since he’d looked properly at him even if it had only been a little more than a week.
“But it’s my choice in the end.”
Sho confirmed that with a curt nod, but the slant of his lips was contrary. “I respect your decision even if I don’t know why and I respect your decision to come back, but I don’t respect that you won’t give us a valid reason.”
Sho might not be saying it, but Nino had no doubts that Ohno heard the or is it that you can’t? loud and clear.
“I’m getting married,” Ohno said, then, briefly glancing at them all, “and I don’t want to have to split my life in two.”
Nino still expected the sharp stings and he welcomed them as they arrived in time with Ohno’s words. “You don’t have to. It has worked for others.”
Ohno’s eyes darted to Nino’s for a split second, so briefly that Nino could’ve sworn he’d imagined it, and something moved in him. Nino had known Ohno so well, in some aspects better than himself, and in some ways, Ohno was more obvious than ever even as his secretiveness had increased in others.
Jun nodded his agreement. “You’re hardly the first to get married in this business.”
Ohno subtly moved inches away and Aiba scooted closer accordingly, not letting him escape. He might be able to escape mentally, but physically he would be no match for Aiba’s long limbs backed with the strength of his unshakeable beliefs.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” Sho suggested, eyeing Aiba’s firm attachment. “This is hardly the right place.”
Nino could hear Ohno’s mind screaming YOU STARTED IT, but he didn’t care. He was being backed up and he prayed it would last without either of them saying things they’d regret. Nino didn’t want more regret to taint his thoughts and he didn’t want more lies on his shoulders. They already felt heavy enough to fold him in two.
As they stood, Aiba’s arm went around Ohno’s shoulder, effectively trapping him even if Ohno couldn’t move quickly from them. Aiba wasn’t taking any chances. Nino wished he’d held that firmly on to Ohno that night.
They left and Ohno didn’t have any choice but to follow and Nino chanced walking closer, trying to prove Jun wrong. He could handle this even if the distance between them was expanding with each shuddering breath – widening painfully with each step they took even if their steps were parallel.
It was terrible missing someone who was walking right next to him.
“Not so fast,” Ohno murmured and Aiba slowed. Jun’s head snapped up and Nino would’ve been murderous if he’d been the one on the receiving end of the pity he found there. Ohno either didn’t see it or ignored it indefatigably. Nino was inclined to believe the latter.
“You see,” Ohno continued in the same low voice, “It’s been more than a year and I can only just walk. I’m a useless idol.”
More than a year. Something nudged at Nino’s thoughts, several pieces were showing clearer, but not quite clear enough yet, still blurry, and Nino inched even closer.
“You’ll never be useless,” Jun returned strongly. “Never to us.”
Ohno chuckled and a shiver ran down Nino’s spine. He looked up to see that Sho was feeling the same - the chuckle was dry and without any trace of amusement.
“I’ve given up on so many things I can’t get back and I’ve said things that can’t be unsaid,” Ohno said, finally shrugging Aiba’s arm off. He turned and looked at them, stepping backwards. “When everything is said and done, come and tell me you still want me here.”
Nino’s traitorous heart thundered, his breath was short, because Ohno couldn’t possibly be thinking of –
But Jun was stepping towards Ohno before Nino could finish that thought, and Jun was angrier than Nino had ever seen him be - Ohno was backing up even as Jun seemed to compose himself.
“You,” Jun spat but never continued that string of words. “Don’t ever say that again. We want you here because you’re one of us, no words, no facts, no pieces of ugly truth can ever change that.”
Jun’s hands gripped Ohno’s shoulders, tightening to the point that even in the dim light of the darkening night, Nino could see his knuckles whitening. Jun stared at Ohno, intently, silently daring him to contradict him or oppose him in any way that he could.
Ohno was looking back, steadily, but Nino thought he saw him tremble, just a bit –
“Matsujun,” Ohno said gently. “There’s nothing to say now. I’m honored and happy that you want me here. But I can’t accept it.”
Aiba shuffled closer, and even if Nino knew that discussing this on the street was no better than discussing it in a bar, they all knew it, he didn’t hold Aiba back, didn’t make any move to stop him.
“Is it because of Fukumori-san?”
Ohno looked sharply at Aiba and Nino had his suspicions as good as confirmed. Nailed it. “I told you, I don’t want to split my life.”
“Who says you have to split it in two? Does Fukumori-san?”
They were all looking at Aiba now, curiously surprised at his words.
Ohno looked carefully neutral. “She doesn’t ask me to give this up,” he said cautiously.
“But why,” Nino said, tired of treading so lightly and walking on eggshells, tired of waiting for the moment and opportunities that won’t come. This question was personal, and he didn’t give a damn if the others didn’t understand it. “If only to run, then why?”
Ohno gave him no answer, just looked more and more like he wanted to be anywhere else than here. Anywhere else would be a better place.
And Nino was so tired. “I’m going home. See you tomorrow.”
“Nino,” Sho called after him as he turned, but Nino didn’t care. He just waved over his shoulder and walked off.
He heard the others speak up, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying, and just for the moment, he didn’t care at all and it felt wonderful and so horrible.
*
He was sweating slightly and his arms ached, but he welcomed it. The kind of ache that settled in your muscles, made them sore and left a dull throbbing, and Nino thought he knew why Ohno tended to stay in the gym for too long.
The feeling of physical exhaustion was a welcome change from the mental one he’d been battling for months now.
He’d been moving his furniture all day, moved it around, tried it in every corner of the apartment. He’d packed all Miho’s things down, packed them neatly in boxes and stacked them away for her to get when she steeled her courage or maybe forgave him enough to come by, just for long enough to pick up the rest of the pieces of what they’d had.
The apartment felt less like the funeral of a strained relationship and more like something he could call his home now.
He sat back and let himself rest for a moment.
It looked different in a good way, he decided. He was tired of coming back to the apartment and feeling he was stuck in between, like something that could’ve been his apartment but wasn’t, something that could’ve been his and Miho’s home, only it wasn’t. It wasn’t even close to that. Drastic measures had to be taken, and Nino had decided that moving everything around to erase the fundament of the routines they’d had established between them.
It felt good.
Even if he might regret it tomorrow – depending on how much his muscles and the rest of his body were protesting by the time he awoke, because no matter how he still didn’t look his age, his body certainly felt age – it felt good to get things done.
The apartment as it was now had potential. Finally. Now he just needed the rest of his problems to have potential.
He frowned. The other really good thing about being so physically busy was that he hadn’t spared Ohno, or rather, everything between them, a thought since he’d woken up with the resolve of trying to start again. Now though, it came back to him, but he was too tired to even consider getting annoyed all over again.
Ohno had made it pretty clear last night where he stood on all this and Nino was tired of fighting and struggling for something that Ohno obviously didn’t want to discuss, remember or tell everyone else. If Nino were in Ohno’s position, he might understand why Ohno did this and went to such extreme lengths to ensure nothing would happen from this. As it was, though, Nino was so done with his own denial.
Damn if he wanted Ohno, still, even if Ohno was being the biggest jerk in the world at the moment. Even if the chance of anything coming out of this was well in the minus right now.
Nino chuckled dryly and rolled his eyes. Pathetic and not surprised. He still didn’t want to face Jun, though, telling him straight on that he and Ohno had ruined everything that day and night so long ago. He had a feeling that Jun would be less than impressed with him.
And he feared that Jun would change his mind about getting Ohno back with them. As it was, he was sure that Sho at least suspected something, and maybe Aiba, too, but he wasn’t sure. It was hard to tell because they never interfered with each other’s private lives. That they were taking such an interest in Ohno’s was an oddity that Nino blamed on the fact that Ohno wasn’t working with them right now, so it couldn’t possibly hurt them more than what had already come to pass.
It was a bad excuse, Nino knew that, but he was grasping at straws.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to be feeling about the entire Ohno-thing, but he knew that if anything, he wasn’t going to confront Ohno at his apartment anymore. Nothing good had ever come from that – in fact, everything had turned from bad to worse every time he’d gone there.
So his pulse rightfully skyrocketed when someone knocked on the door, and he got up, opened it, and Ohno stood there, looking lost and uncertain.
All alarm bells blared at the back of Nino’s mind.
“Nino,” Ohno said but nothing else, and Nino was so tired.
All attempts from his side had been shot down without mercy; all that could be said had been said already, Nino was sure. What did Ohno want now?
“You asked,” Ohno said vaguely, looking down, maybe looking for something to grip, to lean on, but he found nothing. He looked up. “I wanted to.”
Nino raised an eyebrow.
“I wanted to,” Ohno repeated earnestly and Nino’s jaw slackened as he understood. “I wanted to and I’d wanted it for such a long time.”
Ohno’s eyes were so sincere it hurt. Nino tried to keep his breath even. His first impulse was to turn Ohno away, just like Ohno had turned Nino himself away so many times now, but he found that he just couldn’t. He somehow couldn’t.
“Then why?”
It was the heavy question that had lingered between them for so long now that Nino craved an answer to, above all, but Ohno didn’t say anything. Nino saw his jaw clench for a moment before he stepped closer, almost crowding, and he crossed the threshold, into Nino, and they tumbled into each other, Nino’s mind reeling as his lips met Ohno’s again and again.
No traces of alcohol – Nino could only taste Ohno, and he’d been denied that taste for so long. He had no idea he’d craved it so much.
He arched into every touch Ohno pressed to him, and somehow, they managed to close the door and stumbled through the apartment, only with pauses to breathe and avoid walls and sharp edges. Nino couldn’t really think clearly – nothing besides this is so, so right, why so long, and he clung to Ohno so fiercely and so long that Ohno stopped moving. He chuckled breathlessly into Nino’s ear, and it was so easy to get lost.
“Why aren’t you stopping me?”
“I’d never stop you,” Nino returned, seriously, pouring every ounce of honesty and determination he had into it. He needed Ohno to know and understand that.
Ohno’s chuckle and mirth faded, and he looked breathtaking in the dark of the bedroom as they came to stand still. “You’d tell me if I was too close? You’d tell me if it was too much, right?”
Nino’s breath hitched and he nodded, out of breath, and he tilted his head up, pressing his mouth to Ohno’s again.
“You can’t get too close,” Nino promised with a breathy whisper and Ohno shuddered, fingers clenching in the fabric of Nino’s shirt. “I can’t get you close enough.”
Ohno closed his eyes and Nino could’ve sworn he saw regret.
*
Nino’s fingers danced across the thin white lines of scars over Ohno’s knee, and he didn’t even as much as chuckle when his breath made Ohno’s leg jerk instinctively.
“So many,” Nino breathed in confused wonder; he wasn’t sure how he was feeling about it now that he was faced with the raw and irrefutable evidence of Ohno’s immobility. Only seeing Ohno with crutches could just have been, in Nino’s mind, a trick to convince them that he didn’t want to be with them anymore.
He felt more than heard Ohno’s sharp intake of breath when his lips ghosted over the scars. He looked up at Ohno’s carefully hooded eyes. “Does it hurt?”
Ohno shook his head. “Only when I use it too much or too sudden.”
Something rattled in his chest, softening. Beautiful Ohno that had thought of himself as a dancer; he was a different man now, such as the circumstances had demanded him to change, and Nino realized with a horrible jolt that Ohno had been forced to say goodbye to a huge part of his identity. It really was no wonder that he didn’t want to return to them at all. He’d be reminded every day of what he’d lost.
“What really happened?”
Ohno hummed. “When?”
He couldn’t bear looking at Ohno so he kept his eyes fixed on the fine white lines. He traced them with his thumb and knew that Ohno would understand.
“I was drunk,” Ohno started, his slender fingers finding Nino’s hair. They tightened. “I’d seen something earlier that made me want to drink, and later I misjudged some stairs. I woke up in hospital and was told I’d never dance again. Or run, for that matter.”
Nino pressed closer, trying to imagine being alone in a foreign country, knowing no one, and then be told that your life as it had been was over. For good. He couldn’t. All he could do was to crawl closer and tighten his arms around Ohno’s torso, holding him firmly in place. For all Ohno had exiled himself, Nino wished that he could’ve been there. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d wanted to go back and change the past.
If he’d had his way, Ohno wouldn’t even have had this problem now.
“What made you drink so much?”
Ohno shifted, looking at him with eyes softer than Nino ever remembered being looked at. It made him want to squirm; it made him shudder in delicious ways. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Nino wanted to protest that, but he felt tired and sated and too comfortable to start something that might turn into an argument, and he wanted to savor these moments in time with all he had. They’d argued enough about everything else.
“You can walk.”
Ohno nodded slowly. “I’m happy I can walk. I’m sad I can’t run.”
Nino’s heart forgot how to beat when he finally saw past the carefully built defensive walls. Ohno’s pain was tangible, and more than ever, the regret was staggering. Ohno’s entire world had been changed beyond recognition. Nino felt like a jerk for not thinking sooner about how Ohno was feeling about everything.
So much could’ve been avoided.
“You were alone…”
Ohno nodded, closing his eyes and lying back. “But I’m not alone now.”
No, you’re not, Nino’s mind whispered its agreement, because he didn’t dare say the words out loud. The dim light of darkened bedroom was absorbing all their spoken words and the air between them was clearer than it had been in a long time. Nino wanted it to stand still, to remain in this state. It felt fragile, but so very precious. He savored it.
Ohno looked glorious – built in an entirely different way than Nino remembered. Ohno’s legs were strong but weak at the same time, and Nino strained not to push the knee too much. His upper body was more defined than ever, slick and slender, muscled just the right amount. Strong arms had held Nino as if he was the most precious thing in the world.
Nino remembered loving every inch of exposed skin from years ago.
Years between them hadn’t changed that.
“And then– and then, in that hospital room, you met Fukumori,” Nino said softly, involuntarily tightening his grip when Ohno went rigid beside him.
“Don’t – let’s not talk about her,” Ohno pleaded and Nino let him skirt the subject. However, his thoughts were running wild. What would Ohno do now? It couldn’t be this easy; nothing ever was. This had to have consequences, but as it was, he couldn’t even begin to think what it could be. All the what-ifs were killing him. He was torn between wanting to know, and then at the same time, he really didn’t want to know at all.
If only he could stay here, suspended in this moment with Ohno forever where they didn’t have to think about what would happen tomorrow. He didn’t ever want to have to think about the problems and people that expanded with the rising sun of the new day. In this kind of darkness, he could keep pretending, and he could keep pretending that Ohno’s touch would linger.
“Don’t think too much,” Ohno whispered, touching the pads of his fingers to Nino’s temples. He sunk gratefully and obediently into Ohno’s arms, drowned in his kisses and soft exhalations against his skin. The last he remembered was whispering stay, but he knew no more, he just clung to Ohno with all he had.
He hoped it was enough.
*
Nino stared at the envelope between his fingers. He shifted it, turned it several times before staying his hands. He watched his hands open it, slowly, slowly, gingerly, and he shook when he read it;
"Ninomiya Kazunari, you are invited to the wedding between Ohno Satoshi and Fukumori Er-”
The invitation fell from his hands and reached the floor with soundless impact.
He laughed and felt so empty.
*
Everything had to have an end, and Nino decided that Sho wouldn’t kill him after everything was said and done. When he called to ask for advice, he never got further than hello before Sho clipped him off and informed him, curtly, toneless, that Ohno had left Japan, had gone to China to bring Fukumori-san home for their wedding.
Nino hung up and breathed deeply.
It had to end.
*
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