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arashics Title: At Once: Masaki
Rating: PG
Pairings: Arashi/Nino throughout the series.
Warnings: I recast Nino as a girl? Cuz genderbends are fun!
Aiba was her first kiss.
They were still juniors, part of Johnny's and Janey's respectively, and spent almost as much time at the studios as they did in school.
Puberty hit the juniors at the agency hard. Aiba was awkward with it. Lanky and clumsy, he was perpetually wide-eyed in dismay that he wasn't quite Johnny's material and that every crack in his voice proved it.
Kazumi found him silly and strange and fascinating. How did he not notice that all the other Johnnys sounded and looked and acted just like him? Zits and body odor and surprise boners and all.
Well, not just like him.
Aiba never had an ulterior motive when he tried to sneak over to the Janeys' side of the complex. He really did just want to give her the latest edition of the manga they were reading together. And when she poked and prodded and acted the tsukkomi at him, he gamely played along. Every time. When she'd confessed to a teeny crush on one of the older boys, he'd happily conspired with her to orchestrate an elaborate crossing of paths to rival the most popular TBS drama.
He was easily her best friend by the time Nino had her one year anniversary with the agency.
The day it happened had begun so mundane.
School. Janeys. Dinner. Train Home.
That day was rainy and the sky dark, despite the early evening hour. Her umbrella was huge and kept catching in the wind, obscuring her view. They'd gotten ramen after rehearsals and Nino had helped him with an assignment.
It was just so very normal.
Even what happened next had probably happened between them before. It must have. If she thought hard enough, she could probably remember another time when he'd pulled her back from some calamity or another. Or, probably more likely, she had done the rescuing.
The signal for walk lit up, and Nino stepped off the curb, distracted by a sudden gust of wind that threw her umbrella inside out.
She said something. Probably about the uselessness of the thing. The next thing she knew, he had grabbed her by the hand and yanked her back hard enough to send her stumbling into him.
Just in time for the spray of water as a red sports car pealed around the corner right where she'd been about to walk.
Shaking the rain from his eyes, he'd looked away from her in the direction the car had gone. He said something. She probably had too.
She gave up on the umbrella, resigned to being soaked.
She didn't stop holding his hand.
He didn't let go either.
Kazumi kept thinking of the sheet of water and grit that was now dripping into her shoes. The car had been close enough to feel the lacquered paint--she imagined, anyway.
If her umbrella hadn't been flailing in the wind.
If Aiba had been two steps further behind her.
A gentle tug started her walking again. A few blocks further and they were at the station.
What kind of sound would she have made when her body hit the bumper?
Thud.
Squitch.
Crack.
It was going too fast. Bones would break.
Would she feel it? Or would she go into immediate shock? If she lived at all.
Who would have to tell her mother?
It could have driven right over her. Dragged her along the concrete behind it.
Tiny rolls of fragile skin would grind away with each revolution of the tire.
Who would turn in her homework?
She was tiny though.
She could go flying at impact. A rag doll through the air.
Oh God.
Her mother.
The train lurched into motion under her feet and she blinked rapidly, remembering that nothing had happened. There was only the rain. And Aiba's hand in hers.
She didn't notice, not really, when he didn't get off at his stop.
Someone would have to fill in for her at tomorrow's filming.
Meisa-chan, probably.
She'd pretend to care that Kazumi was hurt, or worse dead, but she would relish the few extra seconds of screen time. She'd savor every stupid moment with her big stupid face.
Her stop arrived and she met his reassuring gaze and shrugged, pulling him toward the exit.
Who would help Aiba with his math?
Her throat tightened. Who would help Aiba? The fool would think it was his fault she got hit by a car.
He'd probably drop out of Johnny's. Go to work at his family restaurant and never fulfill his dream.
All because she was too ditzy to look both ways.
Would her mother be the one to tell her sister?
She had been too young to remember when the police had come to their front door in the night. Ai-chan did.
Only, it had been raining.
She was sure of it.
The droplets clinging to the brim of the officers cap had caught the porch light enough to dazzle a four-year-old.
The dancing lights were all she remembered of her father's last day on earth.
"Kazu-chan."
She blinked tragedy away like a fog from her vision. She was home and on her porch, the downpour continued but they were out from under it.
"No more morbid thoughts," he said. She just stood there, staring at him and nodding.
The longer she stared the better she felt. His face was just so sweet and dumb and earnest.
He squeezed her hand, and this time when he pulled her toward him it was with barely any force at all. His lips were cool and damp from the rain, but she hardly noticed. A wave of pure affection took the place of slow simmering panic.
She swayed into the kiss, just a little.
"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered when they parted, sounding like he didn't trust his voice to speak any louder.
"Me too."
She took his hand and pulled him in through the door. "C'mon, idiot." They were both smiling too big and blushing. "You can't go home looking like you jumped in the ocean. Your Kaa-san will blame me and she'll never make me her spring roll special again."
She tried to go on like normal after that, but Masaki had a piece of her heart from then on.
Rating: PG
Pairings: Arashi/Nino throughout the series.
Warnings: I recast Nino as a girl? Cuz genderbends are fun!
Aiba was her first kiss.
They were still juniors, part of Johnny's and Janey's respectively, and spent almost as much time at the studios as they did in school.
Puberty hit the juniors at the agency hard. Aiba was awkward with it. Lanky and clumsy, he was perpetually wide-eyed in dismay that he wasn't quite Johnny's material and that every crack in his voice proved it.
Kazumi found him silly and strange and fascinating. How did he not notice that all the other Johnnys sounded and looked and acted just like him? Zits and body odor and surprise boners and all.
Well, not just like him.
Aiba never had an ulterior motive when he tried to sneak over to the Janeys' side of the complex. He really did just want to give her the latest edition of the manga they were reading together. And when she poked and prodded and acted the tsukkomi at him, he gamely played along. Every time. When she'd confessed to a teeny crush on one of the older boys, he'd happily conspired with her to orchestrate an elaborate crossing of paths to rival the most popular TBS drama.
He was easily her best friend by the time Nino had her one year anniversary with the agency.
The day it happened had begun so mundane.
School. Janeys. Dinner. Train Home.
That day was rainy and the sky dark, despite the early evening hour. Her umbrella was huge and kept catching in the wind, obscuring her view. They'd gotten ramen after rehearsals and Nino had helped him with an assignment.
It was just so very normal.
Even what happened next had probably happened between them before. It must have. If she thought hard enough, she could probably remember another time when he'd pulled her back from some calamity or another. Or, probably more likely, she had done the rescuing.
The signal for walk lit up, and Nino stepped off the curb, distracted by a sudden gust of wind that threw her umbrella inside out.
She said something. Probably about the uselessness of the thing. The next thing she knew, he had grabbed her by the hand and yanked her back hard enough to send her stumbling into him.
Just in time for the spray of water as a red sports car pealed around the corner right where she'd been about to walk.
Shaking the rain from his eyes, he'd looked away from her in the direction the car had gone. He said something. She probably had too.
She gave up on the umbrella, resigned to being soaked.
She didn't stop holding his hand.
He didn't let go either.
Kazumi kept thinking of the sheet of water and grit that was now dripping into her shoes. The car had been close enough to feel the lacquered paint--she imagined, anyway.
If her umbrella hadn't been flailing in the wind.
If Aiba had been two steps further behind her.
A gentle tug started her walking again. A few blocks further and they were at the station.
What kind of sound would she have made when her body hit the bumper?
Thud.
Squitch.
Crack.
It was going too fast. Bones would break.
Would she feel it? Or would she go into immediate shock? If she lived at all.
Who would have to tell her mother?
It could have driven right over her. Dragged her along the concrete behind it.
Tiny rolls of fragile skin would grind away with each revolution of the tire.
Who would turn in her homework?
She was tiny though.
She could go flying at impact. A rag doll through the air.
Oh God.
Her mother.
The train lurched into motion under her feet and she blinked rapidly, remembering that nothing had happened. There was only the rain. And Aiba's hand in hers.
She didn't notice, not really, when he didn't get off at his stop.
Someone would have to fill in for her at tomorrow's filming.
Meisa-chan, probably.
She'd pretend to care that Kazumi was hurt, or worse dead, but she would relish the few extra seconds of screen time. She'd savor every stupid moment with her big stupid face.
Her stop arrived and she met his reassuring gaze and shrugged, pulling him toward the exit.
Who would help Aiba with his math?
Her throat tightened. Who would help Aiba? The fool would think it was his fault she got hit by a car.
He'd probably drop out of Johnny's. Go to work at his family restaurant and never fulfill his dream.
All because she was too ditzy to look both ways.
Would her mother be the one to tell her sister?
She had been too young to remember when the police had come to their front door in the night. Ai-chan did.
Only, it had been raining.
She was sure of it.
The droplets clinging to the brim of the officers cap had caught the porch light enough to dazzle a four-year-old.
The dancing lights were all she remembered of her father's last day on earth.
"Kazu-chan."
She blinked tragedy away like a fog from her vision. She was home and on her porch, the downpour continued but they were out from under it.
"No more morbid thoughts," he said. She just stood there, staring at him and nodding.
The longer she stared the better she felt. His face was just so sweet and dumb and earnest.
He squeezed her hand, and this time when he pulled her toward him it was with barely any force at all. His lips were cool and damp from the rain, but she hardly noticed. A wave of pure affection took the place of slow simmering panic.
She swayed into the kiss, just a little.
"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered when they parted, sounding like he didn't trust his voice to speak any louder.
"Me too."
She took his hand and pulled him in through the door. "C'mon, idiot." They were both smiling too big and blushing. "You can't go home looking like you jumped in the ocean. Your Kaa-san will blame me and she'll never make me her spring roll special again."
She tried to go on like normal after that, but Masaki had a piece of her heart from then on.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-11 06:57 pm (UTC)