i am the question to all the answers (maiaide) wrote in stage1902,
i am the question to all the answers

Ohmiya: Reverse

Title: Reverse
Pairing: Nino/Ohno
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,123
Summary: Nino makes a mistake and it costs him everything.
Notes: Inspired by Utada's "Come Back to Me" and it's probably really obvious.  I don't care.  I played with a new style/format and I hope that is interesting at least.  Just something short for fun though it's really angsty.  The ending is kind of weird but I like it.


            Nino sits on couch of their green room.  The television is on but he isn’t watching it; the new magazines out for May are on the coffee table but he isn’t looking at them.  Sho is sitting at one of the make-up counters, reading a newspaper in the good light.  Aiba is flipping through the script for his play on the other couch. 

            The door opens and Jun returns from the vending machine at the end of the hall with a can in each hand.  Ohno follows close behind but stops short in the doorway.  The smile on his face that is all too rare these days slips away with a cursory glance of the room.  He touches Jun’s elbow, speaks a low good-bye and leaves.

            “He really is an amazing actor,” Nino mumbles when Jun joins him on the couch.  “He can act like nothing is wrong.”

            Jun presses a can of coffee into Nino’s hand.  “It’s going to take time.”

            “It’s been over a month.  He won’t even look at me, let alone be in the same room.”

            “It’s hard enough pretending in front of management and the camera.”

            “I wish he would let me explain what happened.”

            “Do you really think you have a right to?” Jun asks, turning to look Nino in the face.  There is a flash of anger in his eyes despite the patient expression on his face.  “You’re pretty lucky any of us are talking to you.”

            “It was just… nothing.  It meant nothing.  I just need him to see that.”  Nino takes a deep breath and exhales slowly through his nose.  He swallows the bitter taste that’s been in his mouth for weeks and drops his chin to his chest and plays with the tab of the can. 

            “I just want it to go back to the way things were, Jun.”  Nino’s voice sounds childish, even to his own ears.  Seeing them all like this, uncomfortable and unfamiliar—broken—makes his chest hurt.




Sent 3/25 Weds 00:40

To: Oh-chan

I’m sorry. 


Sent 3/25 Weds 00:56

To: Oh-chan

Please tell me what to do.


Sent 3/25 Weds 01:03

To: Oh-chan

I don’t know how to fix this.


Sent 3/25 Weds 01:29

To: Oh-chan

How many times do you want me to apologize?


Sent 3/25 Weds 02:16

To: Oh-chan

Haven’t you punished me enough?  I’ve learned my lesson. 


Sent 3/25 Weds 02:59

To: Oh-chan

I’ve never regretted anything before but I do regret what I did to you.


Sent 3/25 Weds 03:07

To: Oh-chan

I can’t change what I did.  But I’ll never do it again.  I promise.


Sent 3/25 Weds 03:26

To: Oh-chan

Please forgive me. I don’t know what to do without you.


Sent 3/25 Weds 04:20

To: Oh-chan

Please come back.


Received 3/25 Weds 04:21

From: Postmaster@ezweb.ne.jp

Each of the following recipients was rejected by a remote mail server.

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            “Just let me—”

            “No!” Ohno shouts.  Ohno gets angry like anyone else, but it’s always in short flashes.  Never has Nino seen Ohno’s anger simmering so close to the surface before.  He feels like he has been hit in the face. 

            “You don’t get to explain, Nino.  You don’t get to try and talk your way out of this, like you do with everything.  There isn’t anything you can say that can make this better.”

            Ohno stands in the doorway of his bedroom in his parent’s house; his mother let Nino in like she always has, without question.  Ohno stands there in his old pyjamas, the ones that make him look smaller than really he is and are faded and comfortable.  His sleeves cover his knuckles and are wrinkled and wet.  His eyes are red from crying. 

            Nino steps forward, reaching for Ohno’s hand.  Nino speaks in a rush, all his words colliding together as they tumble out; he wants to get as much as he can said before Ohno cuts him off again.  “I don’t have any excuses.  I didn’t mean to do it.  It was a mistake.  A horrible, stupid mistake.”

            Ohno recoils from Nino’s touch.  “Why did you do it?”

            “I don’t know!” 

            “You knew!  There was only one thing I asked you to promise me.  You broke that promise.  You broke us.”  Ohno’s eyes are cold and distant.

            “I’m sorry.  I’ll do anything; I’ll make it up to you.”  Nino drops to his knees, the sound of bone on hardwood loud in the narrow hallway. 

            “Just go away.  I don’t want to see you anymore.”  Ohno closes the door with an unexpected softness harsher than any slam.  In the quiet of the house, Nino can hear Ohno’s mother treading lightly from the kitchen to the top of the stairs and he knows that she is going to politely suggest he go home.




            Ohno sits on the side of the bed, just close enough to reach.  Nino sneaks his hand up the back of Ohno’s shirt; a small grin forms as the skin puckers under his fingers.

            “Your hands are like ice,” Ohno comments, flinching.

            “Then you’ll just have to warm them up for me,” Nino’s replies.  He shifts across the mattress, closer, nudging Ohno’s waist with his cold nose. 

            With Nino curled around him from behind like the laziest of cats, the only place for Ohno’s arm to rest is on Nino’s shoulder.  Playing with the hair on the back of Nino’s neck is an old habit that he can’t bring himself to break.

            “You would warm up faster in the shower, Kazu.  Jun is going to be mad if we’re late for dinner.”  

            “You could take a shower with me.  I think I would warm up twice as fast.”

            Ohno smiles fondly at the younger boy.  “I am already showered and dressed.  Look, cufflinks even.”

            “Well, there’s no arguing with cufflinks.”

            When Nino comes out of the shower, the bed is half-made: the sheets are pulled taut and tucked on the left side—Ohno’s side—while Nino’s is still undone, the crisp white wrinkled and looking grey in the lamplight.  Ohno sits on the edge, almost exactly where Nino had left him, with an empty condom wrapper in his hand.

            “What’s this?” Ohno asks.  His voice is quiet and edged with something dangerous.


            “It’s not mine.  And this isn’t the kind you use.”  Nino has never heard Ohno sound so hysterical.

            “I don’t—”

            Ohno raises his head and the look on his face is as broken as it is beautiful.  His cheeks are pale and his nose pink, his lips do not tremble though tears fall from his eyelashes when he blinks.

            “We haven’t used condoms in five years.”





Tags: #one-shot, p: nino/ohno, r: pg, x: angst
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