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jasonbehrs · 1 year

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🚃 visualise the ending 🚃

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

The warning notification sounds, the doors close, the train continues onwards.

fandom: arashi characters: aiba masaki, ninomiya kazunari ship: ninoai genres: friendship, romance themes: first meetings, subways, getting to know each other, slow burn, romance implied, open ending word count: 5.2k+ rating: T+

read it on ffnet, aff, wattpad, ao3, or below!

~~~

A/N (3.3.2023): Happy Ninoai Day (in Japan)! 🔰💛💚 This story is tagged as romance, but you can definitely read this as platonic if you want to.

I started shipping Ninoai back in March 2022 (literally like a few days after Ninoai Day haha), and oviparous' works are a large part of why I am still here. This story and its title are entirely inspired by a plot point in the fic 'The non-fiction of you and me' (available on AO3), which I highly recommend to all Ninoaiers if they haven't read it yet! There are no spoilers for oviparous' fic if you happen to read this first.

~~~

Aiba's feeling green today.

He noticed he gets better results when he wears something other than the standard, penguin-suit, salaryman costume to work, so the professional side of his closet is filled with button ups and ties in bright colours that make him happy to look at; and the morning's beautiful sunshine has him feeling like he should wear green. Once that decision is made, he finishes the rest of his morning routine in record time and heads for the Makuharihongo Station.

As soon as he boards the Sobu Line, he can tell the commute this morning isn't going to be very pleasant. He's lucky that he was able to find a seat, but by the next station there were already enough commuters that people had no choice but to hold onto the ceiling handrail in front of him. In one more stop, they were all packed like sardines.

If not for one flash of pale yellow somewhere between him and the closest exit, the blacks, grays, and whites of suit jackets and collared shirts swarming before him would certainly fit the sardine analogy. He is extra glad for his spring green shirt today.

As the train continues onwards to Mitaka, Aiba indulges in his favourite subway hobby: observing people and guessing their niche personality traits. It's something he's always done; he can't tell if it's a byproduct of his profession, or maybe it's the reason he's so good at his job.

For example, the man crossing into his personal space likely ice skated in middle school, a conclusion entirely drawn from how he is able to maintain his balance in the crooked posture he's in. What appears to be the sole woman in the entire subway car probably is the middle child of a large litter of boys.

The fellow in yellow? Well, it's not a personality trait, but he's definitely about to fall.

Standing where he is and surrounded as he is, he has no good bars or straps within arms reach to moor himself. He's entirely relying on adjusting his balance between his two planted feet and apologising when he overcorrects. All it'll take is one particularly bad jostle, and—there.

In the time it takes him to blink, Aiba's already out of his seat, one hand punched through the wall of bodies to reach where he knows a handrail should be and the other wrapped around the upper chest of the nearly-horizontal man.

Leave it to the Tokyo commuters to only create space just for a man to bruise his dignity.

"Are you okay?" he asks reflexively as he sets the Fellow in Yellow upright. Aiba guides the man's closest hand to follow his arm until it reaches the rail, and they smoothly exchange positions so the other is holding on instead.

"Your seat…" The Fellow's pitying-yet-incredulous voice is clear despite the mask he's wearing.

Aiba doesn't have to turn to know someone else had occupied his vacant spot on the bench, likely as soon as he got up. In fact, it's probably the figure skater. "Don't worry about it. This is my stop!" he lies just as the next station rolls into view.

"Take care today!" Aiba waves cheerily as he gets caught up in the throng of people rushing on and off the train. He waits until the doors close before he looks around the platform to figure out just where he ended up.

Ah, Ichigaya! Not bad! It's only one stop off from his typical Yotsuya. He can walk the rest of the way to work, easy. Besides, today's a beautiful day.

~~~

Nino ducks as soon as he boards the Sobu, raising his briefcase up to hide his face as he scoots deeper into the car and farther away from his source of discomfort. He chants "shit, shit, shit" to himself the entire way, desperately hoping he wasn't seen. (At least he isn't wearing that godawful yellow shirt again today. If he ever needed a reminder to do laundry on a regular basis, that was it.)

He doesn't let his briefcase down until he grabs a spot on the complete opposite side of the train car from where he entered, but he only does so so that he can surreptitiously peer over the edge.

The Guy in Green—who isn't wearing green today, but too much time has passed for Nino to call him any other moniker at this point—seems to be completely ignorant of his presence, and Nino finally slumps over in relief.

As grateful as he felt to be saved last time, he's embarrassed that he had to be saved at all. He's usually so good at the subway-surfing thing, a skill he honed so that he could play video games while standing during his commute home. To anyone else, it may not be a big deal, but the Guy in Green's existence will serve as a constant reminder that he didn't just fail, he failed noticeably. His ego is a sensitive, mercurial thing.

He tries valiantly to stick to his morning routine of reviewing the news when movement makes him refocus his eyes and attention. The Guy in Green is getting off.

He doesn't mean to trail his eyes after the other, but something Nino is choosing to call bored curiosity encourages him to observe him. He didn't get a good look last time; besides Nino's refusal to meet the Guy's eyes, he wound up disembarking the train less than a minute later. Now, Nino can plainly see how tall the man is and how his suit jacket and slacks decidedly fit his figure.

He can also see how the Guy's rail pass flutters out of his pocket as he side-steps a woman pushing a stroller.

Nino gets to his feet. No one else on the platform seems to notice what happened, which means it's up to him to act…

… But being a good samaritan will make him late for work, and he has a major client meeting first thing this morning…

… But Guy in Green saved him from face-planting last week; and as embarrassed as Nino is to have been saved at all, he is still grateful for it.

He squeezes off the train at the last second, narrowly avoiding the automatic doors closing on his briefcase. "Wait!" he calls ineffectually, considering how far the Guy made it while Nino was too busy making up his mind.

He stoops to pick up the rail pass and bounds after the Guy in Green. "You there, wait!"

A bunch of people stop and stare after him; and after a third cry, the Guy in Green is one of them. His eyes widen as Nino hurriedly approaches him with the rail pass outstretched. "You dropped this," Nino pants as soon as he is within normal-volume-of-speaking distance.

The Guy in Green launches into his rendition of the pocket-patting dance that everyone does to verify something needs to be on their person. "Oh my god, I did. Thank you so much!"

Nino waves away the thanks easily and pulls out his phone to check the time. He's only at Yotsuya. If he boards any next train bound for Shinjuku, he'll still be late, but forgivably so. Bonus: he never has to feel awkward about meeting the Guy again; with this, they're even in the balance sheet of Nino's mind. The day is still salvageable.

"I would have gotten into trouble at my job if I lost this card!" the other continues as he rifles through his pockets. Did he drop a second thing? Nino can only do so much!

He pulls out his wallet, and Nino raises an eyebrow. "I know it's not much, but please take this as an expression of my thanks."

Instead of the money Nino expected to see, the Guy offers him a piece of cardstock with two outstretched hands. He takes it out of curiosity, and it's a half-way punched out Dotour Coffee loyalty card.

Nino sweatdrops. He's more of an indie cafe kind of guy, and he would have much preferred money besides.

He's about to politely refuse the gift when the Guy jumps in shock. "Ah, I'm gonna be late! Thanks again." He offers a hurried, partial bow then turns on his heel, leaving Nino standing on the platform and staring after the man's lithe form running for the turnstiles.

Nino looks down at his phone again and makes a decision. If he's going to be late anyway, he might as well be extra late with some coffee and sweet bread for everyone at the meeting.

If he happens to get them from Dotour, too, well… that isn't anyone's business.

~~~

Aiba will admit he didn't think much about the Fellow in Yellow at first. Shortly after the near-fall, he had already forgotten it had happened. It is only because of their second encounter that Aiba can remember that he had offhandedly noticed the other's round nose, an impression Aiba could gain because he wasn't fully wearing his mask that first time and then wasn't wearing a mask at all the next time. If it weren't for how he saved Aiba's rail pass last week, Aiba definitely wouldn't have thought of him any further.

But he did, and Aiba does. He can now add a short but lean frame and a high, nasally voice to the list of things he knows about the Fellow in Yellow, and he isn't that surprised to realise he wants to learn more.

As the one who gets on the Sobu Line first, the onus is really on him if he wants to see the other again; and Aiba doesn't question it (as he doesn't with most things) before he devotes himself headlong to this endeavour.

Their commutes home are likely too erratic to align by accident, so the mornings are his only chance. He starts by systematically trying combinations of train times and car numbers to get a sense of the Fellow's boarding habits. At every stop after Makuharihongo, Aiba scans the commuters on the platform to see if he could recognise the person he's looking for among them.

Luckily for Aiba, humans are creatures of habit. It takes him only one business week to figure out that the Fellow boards at Shin-Koiwa, one week more to discern which cars he prefers, and just a few days afterwards to work out the timing.

It is worth it for the look of pure shock on the Fellow's face when he gets on, plops onto an available seat facing the doors, and sees Aiba sitting directly across from him. The Fellow hesitates before offering a weak wave then promptly looks down at his phone, but Aiba still considers that a win.

The same thing happens the next day, except Aiba is standing.

On the third day, the Fellow in Yellow finally looks at him with suspicion instead of surprise, and all Aiba can do is smile.

~~~

They don't really talk much, which bothers Nino more than history suggests it should bother Nino.

Actually, a lot of things about this new, unlikely, yet easy arrangement bothers Nino, chief of which is that for all their commiserations over train delays and silent acknowledgements of funny people they see in their cars, he still doesn't know the Guy in Green's name; and it additionally bothers him that that even bothers him to begin with.

The Guy hasn't even worn green at all since that first time (today, the prominent colour is a citrus-adjacent level of orange), so the nickname feels disingenuous with every passing day. Nino hasn't the first clue about how to broach the topic now, though. He thinks it might be too long since the first time to cover the basis of names.

"By the way, I'm Aiba! Aiba Masaki."

Or not. Unlikely but easy, indeed. "Ninomiya Kazunari," he offers with a curt bow of his head.

"It's nice to formally meet you, Ninomiya-san."

"Nino."

Aiba-san jerks his head forward in astonishment. "'Nino'?" He looks like he's fighting very hard not to let a smile overtake his face and losing, and Nino can't begrudge him for it. His own coworkers haven't been given permission to call him anything less formal than 'Ninomiya-kun', but Aiba-san gets the privilege after barely two weeks of acquaintance?

He resolves not to look too deeply into it. In any case, it's not something he can take back now. "You can call me Nino," he affirms.

Aiba-san fully surrenders the battle with his smile. "You can call me Maa-kun!"

"I'm not going to do that."

He pouts. Aiba-san has got to be at least thirty, maybe even thirty-five, and he's pouting in broad daylight. "What are you going to call me, then?"

"Aiba-san." An answer and an admonishment.

"The least you could do is drop the -san!" Aiba whines; and just like that, Nino has begun eschewing the -san even in his own mind.

"We'll see about that," he retorts for the mere sake of being obstinate.

~~~

In the stops before Nino arrives, Aiba frets.

He constantly entertains thoughts of asking Nino about his commuting home habits, but he's worried it might be overstepping some unseen boundaries. Their conversations, while enjoyable and easily the highlight of his day, don't get very personal; and he displayed enough stalkerish tendencies to force them into this tentative yet burgeoning friendship to begin with. Every time, he has to resign himself to the fact that Nino's company must remain a once-a-day kind of deal.

Even the topic he's broaching today is a strong departure from their typical terms of engagement, but he would feel so bad if he let it go undiscussed. He's still nervous about it, though. He wore yellow today, a colour he has started associating with good luck.

Nino boards, and they exchange routine pleasantries before he's nose-deep into his phone. Aiba has since gathered that whatever Nino reads every morning is a part of his morning routine and not a conversation avoidance tactic, so he typically honours that unless he has a funny observation to make.

Today, however, he will gladly take it as an excuse to postpone the conversation he wants to have.

He doesn't muster up the courage to say anything until Ichigaya, and it comes out in a rush. "I'm leaving on a business trip today."

"Hm? Where to?"

"Sapporo." Aiba anxiously watches the tunnel zip pass as they get closer and closer to his stop.

"Nice. I hope the crab is still in season," Nino comments distractedly, still reading whatever he reads on his phone.

Finally Yotsuya's platform comes into view, and Aiba can't hold it back anymore, even if Nino didn't ask. Even if Nino didn't want to know. "I'll be back on Tuesday."

"Oh. … Oh!"

Aiba's strange relief that Nino had any reaction at all coincides with the conductor announcing their stop. "Yeah," he says apologetically as he stands up, even though he doesn't know exactly what it is he's apologising for.

Nino opens his mouth to say something, but the doors open then, and Aiba gets caught up amongst the throng of people trying to board and disembark at the same time. He casts desperate eyes to meet Nino's, but he only gets a glimpse before he finds himself staring at the Sobu train continuing on its way to Mitaka. Aiba is left on the rapidly un-crowding platform, still and empty.

They didn't even get to say goodbye.

~~~

He doesn't have to look to know Aiba is about to start a conversation. Maybe he's just become more sensitive to it as a defense mechanism, but he swears something in the air changes. The weight of his focus is heavy.

"Hey, Nino. Have you always taken the Sobu?"

Nino hides a snort. He knows what Aiba is asking. In the past several weeks, he's discovered that the logic part of the time-honoured Japanese art of subtlety is lost on Aiba.

"It's very likely that we've ridden in the same car before. I've been at my company for a couple of years already, but I got promoted a few months ago, so now I can come in later than I used to."

Aiba exaggeratedly checks his watch, peeking behind a patterned red shirt. "This is late for you?"

Nino shrugs. "That's life when you work in finance."

"Finance! Fancy." Nino doesn't get to dwell too long on the fact that after all this time Aiba didn't even know what he spent his daylight hours doing, that he should probably do a better job of telling Aiba more about himself, or that maybe it's weird that he wants Aiba to know more about himself, before Aiba continues. "I'm a pollster!"

"Like, during elections?"

"No, no, like… Have you ever watched News Zero? You know how sometimes the hosts talk about statistics that you didn't realise anybody was even tracking?"

Unbidden, Nino remembers one such weird statistic from last Monday's episode. "Like how fruit popularity varies between prefectures?"

"Exactly! My company does analysis like that, and I poll for the data. I love ranking things, I always have. Even though I don't get to do the ranking myself, I'm happy that I even get to contribute." Aiba punctuates the thought with a bright grin.

It is such a niche job, but Aiba seems to be such a niche person, so Nino supposes it works out. Besides, it's better that someone like Aiba is doing that work than someone like Nino. Aiba just has the kind of face that makes you want to tell him things. Nino would know; he's on the receiving end of its power every workday. He finds that he must actively refrain from blurting out absolutely ridiculous things like "I saw a movie yesterday, and the lead character reminded me of you" or "Wanna head to an izakaya after work?", a show of restraint he's never had to display before.

He realises with a jolt that he hasn't really replied to Aiba yet; but before he could save face, Aiba abruptly points to the sky. So unlikely. "I rank this job as Number 1 in the country!"

Nino bypasses gratitude for sardonicism in the way it has been increasingly difficult to do lately. "I possess no knowledge that would impel me to disagree with you."

Aiba laughs. So easy. "I don't even know how to draw the word 'impel'!"

~~~

Nino boards the train looking like death in motion. "Had a call with Los Angeles," he preempts the question as he sits down, then he promptly lolls his head onto Aiba's shoulder and passes out.

Like with most things, Aiba doesn't question the sudden show of skinship and instead tries with all his might to make his bony shoulder the most comfortable pillow on the planet. For the rest of the trip, he glares at people who bump into the knees of his sleeping charge, he curses the volume of the conductor's announcements that make his eyebrows furrow even in sleep. Aiba keeps as still as possible, regardless of how the turbulent subway ride is more likely to rouse Nino than any movement Aiba makes. In any case, he was trusted with a responsibility, and he's not going to mess this up.

Nino isn't wearing a mask again today. The softness of his face is more prominent in his sleep, squished as it is against his blue-clad shoulder. He hates to wake Nino up, but he knows Shinjuku is next. (Between Nino's profession and their months of early morning camaraderie, it was easy to pick up that Nino alights the metro a few stops after his.)

"Nino, your stop is coming up."

"Wha—?" His voice is bleary with unvoiced yawns, and something inside of Aiba yearns. He wishes that the train would malfunction, that a small fire would break out on the tracks and cause a slight delay, that anything would let the moment last a moment longer. Nino clearly needs the rest.

But the conductor announces Shinjuku all too soon, Nino jumps into alertness, and Aiba's side goes cold.

"Holy shit!" Nino frantically searches his surroundings, searching for something that Aiba can't help him with. It isn't until the train slows enough for Nino to read the signs outside that he calms down. "Oh, thank god. I thought I missed my stop."

"I wouldn't have let you." Belatedly, Aiba remembers to smile. "No worries."

Nino pats Aiba on the shoulder with the patronising affection only someone like him could pull off. "That's because you're a good person, Aiba-shi."

When the doors open, Nino joins the crowd of people disembarking with a jaunty salute in Aiba's direction. He must have been really frazzled if he forgot to act like he and Aiba aren't friends.

Then the warning notification sounds, the doors close, and the train continues onwards.

Aiba lets out a deep sigh of relief. Just as well. If Nino is still high on adrenaline and gratitude, he can't think about how Aiba was around to wake him up on time in the first place. If he makes the connection anytime today, he'll have to bring it up tomorrow; and Aiba will surely have an excuse lined up by then. For the first time, he's grateful that they never exchanged LINE information.

He only rides until Okubo, one stop past Shinjuku, before getting off. While he waits for a train headed in the opposite direction, he gets a call from his boss asking where he is; and he smoothly makes up a white lie about sleeping on the subway and missing his stop.

~~~

"Nothing to read on your phone today, Nino?"

Nino startles back into awareness. Has Aiba been trying to get his attention for long? "Um, not today. No."

Aiba's eyes take on an excited shine. "Okay, I have a story to tell you. It's kind of long, so I held onto it for a morning you weren't busy reading." Nino elects to refrain from mentioning that Aiba has frequently interrupted his morning reading in the past. "Last year, my family and I went on vacation to New York…"

While Aiba goes on about the city's own crowded metro system, Nino's mind wanders back to the reason he can't focus enough to read the news on his phone.

The Dotour Coffee loyalty card burns a hole in his wallet with its call to action. It only needs one more visit to redeem the reward—a dessert of the customer's choosing—and it has for a few weeks now. Nino has had plenty of opportunities to stop by the Dotour by his office in that time, but he can never make himself go inside.

He tells himself it's because the desserts at Dotour suck; but sitting here and half-listening to Aiba embellish his story with unnecessary details he believes to be funny, Nino can only be honest with himself.

He wants to redeem the reward with Aiba.

He has imagined the conversation so many times in his mind. He'd casually go, 'Hey, when's your lunch? I'm going to Dotour to redeem the loyalty card thing. I was gonna go by myself, but I figured it's only fair that you come with me since we both contributed to it.' Aiba would probably vibrate out of his seat in excitement, and Nino would carefully hide his satisfaction with a bent head as they compare schedules on their phones.

"... And that's how I learned that passenger pushers are not a thing in other countries!" Aiba erupts in giggles as he finishes, and Nino wants to roll his eyes. Aiba sucks at telling stories. Nino wasn't even paying attention, and he could already tell what happened.

Instead he tampers a frown. Indeed. He could already tell Aiba would be happy to join him, but it's just not enough for some reason. Their friendship is supposed to be easy, but he's the one making it difficult.

The conductor announces Yotsuya, and Aiba jumps up from his seat with a stretch. "I've been holding that in forever. Now I have to think of another story to tell you on a morning you aren't busy!"

"I'll, uh, I'll look forward to it," Nino says, just because it's been too long since he's said something.

Aiba bows shallowly, his cheeky little "Yoroshiku~" getting lost in the din once the train doors open. He bounds off to his fabulous job as a pollster, and Nino doesn't say a damn thing.

He sighs to himself. There's always next time.

~~~

In the stops before Nino boards, Aiba frets.

He's known for almost two weeks now, but he could never figure out the right time to say it, and it's almost too late. If not today, then never. He knows he has to say something. He wants to say something, but he cannot find the courage.

The train pulls into Shin-Koiwa, and Aiba's heart hurts. Just like those early days, Nino is waiting on the platform with his face buried in his phone. Habit and hope have him standing at the same pillar every work day because it faces the door that opens into the car where he knows he'll find Aiba. The conflict between how happy Aiba is to see him and how much he dreaded facing him peaks with this subtle representation of the relationship they've built.

The train was kind of full this morning, so Aiba had elected to hold onto one of the overhead grab handles right in front of the doors instead of taking a seat and leaving Nino to stand. When Nino boards, he easily takes his place right next to Aiba, one arm reaching up for balance and the other managing his phone and briefcase. As far as he is concerned, today is just another day in the monotony of capitalism.

The same obstacle that prevented him from confessing the truth every time before emerges once again: His life is changing, but he wants to preserve the Nino whose life doesn't have to.

He's a coward. He knows he's a coward, and now he is also a thief. He has robbed Nino of the time and chance to process, but there's nothing he can do about it now except tell Nino his truth.

Before long, they depart from Ichigaya, and it is Aiba's last chance.

"Hey, Nino?"

"Hm?" Nino acknowledges distractedly, scrolling as ever.

Aiba takes a deep breath, one last delaying tactic before everything changes. He almost wants to cry from the anxiety; but instead of tears, words spill out of him, jumbled and in one breath.

Aiba takes a second to start his thought. This strikes Nino as odd because Aiba is not the kind of man who puts forethought into anything, especially his own thoughts; but he just waits. His industry is very dependent on other industries' actions, and failing to prepare is preparing to fail. That's why he diligently reads the news every morning even though he'd really rather talk to Aiba.

Then: "I'm being transferred. The Hokkaido trip I told you about a few months back? It was a success. My company wants to open a new branch there, and I was specifically picked to find and train new pollsters. It's a great opportunity…"

Nino nods along absentmindedly while Aiba talks, and then his thumb stills. His head snaps up then over, his eyes wide and entirely focused on his visibly stressed friend.

Aiba's hand grips the handle tighter. "I'm, um, I'm not going to be taking this train anymore," he ends weakly.

"Yeah, no shit," Nino snarks on impulse, but there's no heat in it. In fact, Nino feels ice cold.

"Yeah, no shit," Nino snarks, but it's mild, reflexive, almost calming. If Nino can still snark, Nino must be okay.

The calm distorts into hurt before Aiba can stop it, and he berates himself. He always intended for the reveal to be a factual exchange of information, merely a notice—he reminded himself time and again and even now that Nino's life will not be impacted by his announcement; it's not supposed to be—but his chest still goes tight with anticipation, waiting for something more from Nino. He's wanting something more from Nino.

Instead, the next voice he hears is the conductor's on the loudspeaker. "This stop: Yotsuya."

Nino, for his part, is very, very still.

With these last seconds at his disposal, Aiba wonders if he should fill the empty air. He has so much to say, actually, but he doesn't think he can give voice to any of them without said voice absolutely breaking. Instead, he looks into Nino's unblinking eyes, hoping his own can convey enough for him.

I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. The best thing that ever happened to me was meeting you. Thank you for your company all these mornings.

Goodbye.

"This stop: Yotsuya."

Aiba is looking at him so earnestly, waiting for his reaction, like he always is, like Nino is always making him do. He knows he has to say something, he wants to say something, but he is frozen with emotion. Anxiety, confusion, anger, desperation—what does he do with these things?

He can't pull his eyes away from Aiba's face, but the rest of their surroundings still come into hyper focus. The rumble of the subway car, people shuffling to get ready to disembark, too many different kinds of cologne in the air—he is aware of them all, yet his senses still feel dulled. It's like a movie playing at one frame a second. Every detail is apparent to him, but perceiving them is meaningless.

Pushing through the overstimulation, his brain gets flooded with visions instead. They are not memories, no, because they never happened. Drinks in his favourite izakaya. Lunches spent commiserating over coworkers. Train rides home.

They never happened because he never asked for them. Why didn't he? And what could he possibly ask from Aiba now?

(He could feel something clawing its way from his subconscious to his tongue, but it doesn't make any sense. Aiba has no reason to stay, and Nino has no reason to convince him.)

He doesn't know what he can do, what he can say. He's running out of time.

Sooner than he is ready for it, the train stops. The automatic doors pull apart before them. His head snaps toward the offensive opening, his eyes glaring with the full force of the injustice and his fear.

The automatic doors pull apart before them, and that's it. His time on the Sobu is over.

Aiba forces himself to let go of the grab handle, and the arm drops limply to his side now that it no longer has a purpose. There is nothing left tethering him to this moment.

Nino isn't even looking at him anymore, and Aiba steels himself. If that's as much of an answer as he's going to get, he will accept it. He deserves nothing better for how he let this relationship end. He is a coward, he is a thief, and he is just another commuter.

With one last glance at Nino's passive profile—still waiting, still hoping, still not knowing why—Aiba moves forward and blends in with the ensuing flurry of activity that accompanies every train stop. His face is forward, his steps are unwilling, and his tears are swift; but at least this time he got to say goodbye.

A two-toned caution echoes in the car behind him, a call for attention, a warning of finality.

"Please stand away from the closing doors."

Nino gets to his feet.

~~~

A/N (3.3.2023): If you're so inclined, follow me on twitter. :)

#arashi #ninoai #aimiya #ninomiya kazunari #aiba masaki #jpop #arashi fanfiction #jaso*

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jasonbehrs · 2 years

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🌞 syzygy 🌝

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

an arashi fanfic about being careful what you wish for

A lonely sun, a jealous moon, and a hellish Jun.

fandom: jpop, arashi characters: aiba, nino, ohno jun sho in supporting roles ship: ninoai genres: angst, humour themes: mutual pining, personification, second pov, pov switch, pre-relationship word count: 2.2k+ rating: T+

A/N (8.24.2022): @futarinokinenbi did a trope ranking thing, then I made her pick 3 of her favourite tier 1-2 tropes so I could write her a fic, and she chose mutual pining, angst, and crack because 'what would that kind of fic even look like'... Well, this. :)

Title is pronounced 'siz-eh-gee', and rating is for liberal cursing.

read it on ffnet, aff, ao3, wattpad, or below!

~~~

You hear that for your unfailing, seemingly never ending energy, days on earth are measured in suns. Consistent, dependable, relentless.

You're happy to play the role—there is honestly nothing else you'd rather be or do other than this—but the thing about being the main source of light for several lightyears around is that you have to get used to the darkness.

It fascinates you; it always has. For all that light you exude, you still cannot brighten up everything. There are things that will remain hidden no matter how hard you try to illuminate them. Where there is light, there must always be shadows.

That must be why you're so captivated by the earth's moon.

He darts in and out of your rays like he's playing a game with you that only he knows the rules to. Somehow you do not feel like you're losing. As the earth goes around the sun, and the moon goes around the earth, you follow along the circlicue of motion like it's the most interesting dance in the cosmos.

Maybe it's because the moon is the largest non-planetary satellite in the inner system. Comets and asteroids are pretty, but they're always just passing by. The planets are cool and all, but they literally revolve around you.

Maybe it's because the moon cannot simply exist; he has other preoccupations. He has his own role for the earth that he plays as tirelessly as you do yours. Is it so out of this world to think that makes the two of you kindred spirits? Do the people of earth see the two of you as a set the way you do?

You'll never know.

What you do know is that there's nothing else you can do with the eons of energy stored inside you but let it all out. You do not have to shine the brightest, but you do have to keep on shining… And if the moon can feel your earnest light too, then it's even more worth it.

~~~

You hear that for your many faces, worn in rotation and whimsical without whim, months on earth are measured in moons. Cyclic, dynamic, radiant.

Damn straight.

You're the motherfucking moon. You don't just control the tides, you demand poetry, you inspire dreams. You're constantly switching it up, and you delight at every turn. You give the earthlings a reason to look up at the sky even when the darkness of space takes over. The other planets may be bigger or more colourful, but they don't do shit for the earth the way you do.

You love being the moon—there is honestly nothing else you'd rather be or do other than this—but the thing about being a planet's only satellite is the fact that you're a fraud, and you can never forget it.

You are described with delicate beauty, but you know that there is nothing inherently beautiful about you. Whatever side of yourself you show the earth does not matter because it does not look at you for yourself, it looks at you for what you reflect.

The odes, the pining, the hope in the darkness; they are not testaments to your pockmarked skin but to the remnants of a sun that do not not let the earthlings be lonely even when he must leave them. What would they call beautiful if they could not even see you?

If the best part about you is that you're an acceptable replacement for someone else, that you're getting credit for something that someone else does, is it any wonder that you're seriously bitter?

So yeah, fuck the sun.

You can't catch a break with that guy around. You feel his light on some part of you for every single whatever-counts-as-a-measurement-of-time in your immortal existence. The few times you manage to pass through the earth's own shadow, you're darkened to the red hues of anger you truly feel; but even this is a byproduct of the sun's work. Because of course it is. Your existence is so directly tied to that burning hunk of gas' it's like the Asteroid Belt itself was linking you together.

(Sometimes, you resent the earth, too. They could stand to appreciate you more, yes, but they also force you into their orbit. Entire civilisations would fall to ruin even if you managed to break free. That's a pressure of responsibility no celestial body should ever feel, atmosphere be damned.)

So you're angry, bitter, (kind of jealous, if you're being honest with yourself)—but at least you're pretty, right?

~~~

Eclipses technically don't take place all that often, but things like frequency matter less when lifespans are measured in millenia. In any case, eclipses sneak up on them with a rhythm that the two of them have grown used to. The sun thinks that's what makes it special, knowing that they have to wait but never for too long. (The moon thinks he could stand to continue waiting.)

When the next eclipse lines up, the sun lets out a little solar flare of delight. Hello, Moon!!!

The moon remains silent, playing every part of a rotating rock in the vacuum of space.

The solar winds swirl with energy, eagerness writ clear across his surface. So many things have happened since we last saw each other! I currently have two (2) black spots; can you see them? And a few lightyears away from Jupiter there was a meteor shower, sooo pretty—but, ah, too far away for you to see, I think… Meteor showers are overrated, anyway, and they make me kinda sad, too. All those poor asteroids, burning up into practically nothing, and all I can say about them is that they were pretty as they withered away.

If the moon were capable of conveying interest on his stony facade, he would. For the first time in a long time, the sun has said something that actually inspires him to continue a conversation. When he reflects the sun's light, he sends a message back. What do you mean, 'they're pretty as they wither away'?

The sun is so overjoyed to hear from the moon that the halo of his corona fluctuates with excitement, subject matter notwithstanding. Oh! Like, meteors don't really make their own light, you know? A moving meteor glows because it passes through a planet's atmosphere so quickly that the friction literally burns the rock. The meteor leaves the planet's atmosphere smaller than it was when it entered. That'll keep on happening until the meteor disintegrates into nothing or collides with something else.

It is only because the sun was radiating so brightly before that the moon notices him dim. It makes me glad you're here, Moon, he says. You don't need to zip past the planets and lose yourself in the process for a temporary shine. I can just keep giving you my light! The solar prominences are back. Sirius knows I have enough to spare!

The moon has never thought about it like that before. Is the sun's light actually a gift instead of a tease, a burden, a stolen glory?

The moon has always been difficult for the sun to read, and nothing about that changes now. He never ends up saying anything back, leaving the sun to wonder if maybe he said too much. (What's new?) In any case… Aw, it looks like it's time for you to go. I'll see you at the next eclipse. Right, Moon?

The sun always asks even though he must know the moon physically has no choice but to be there. It used to be annoying before, but now he's thinking he can't wait. See you, Sun, the moon responds just as his orbit pulls him out of alignment.

With communication lost between them, the moon can only be amused as the sun's light sharply dims in surprise before slowly increasing in happy luminescence. Far be it for him to pass such judgment, but the sun looks kind of pretty like that.

~~~

"Aiba? Nino? Get up; we're almost ready to start."

The two of them blink into awareness at Ohno's gentle but insistent call, unsurprised to find him dressed like an astronaut.

Despite their bulky costumes, Aiba and Nino had managed to slump against each other for a nap on a green room couch while waiting for Waku Waku Gakkou dress rehearsals to start. They're doing an astronomy skit primarily centered on the earth, but other prominent celestial bodies would make an appearance—all portrayed with the typical Arashi charm.

Jun walks by in his unflattering-but-somehow-it-works inflatable Earth costume just as Sho finishes a sit-up. "Aiba Sun, Nino Moon, Sho Rising. We're on stage in 15," he directs with a finger pointed accordingly before following a staff member out of the room.

Ohno helps Sho coordinate his limbs into the proper places of his generic, round, red outfit (he's Mars), and they walk out together.

Aiba and Nino are still on the couch, reeling from the very weird dreams they had while napping. Nino chances a glance over at Aiba, his already tan skin glowing even more from the shimmery gold face paint the make-up team applied on him to match his character.

It was an easy assignment at the time—who else of Arashi would be fit to play the sun than their resident sunshine incarnation himself?—but something about seeing Aiba like this makes him uncomfortable in a way it didn't before he had fallen asleep.

By the way Aiba is looking at his face, similarly sparkly from the silver face paint, Nino surmises Aiba is feeling much the same way.

One of the stylists pops their head into the room. "Aiba-san, Ninomiya-san. Is there something wrong with your make-up?" they ask out of concern from how intensely the two of them are still looking at each other.

Their comment startles the two members out of their reveries. "I think we should change roles!" they shout at once as they scramble off the couch.

"Eh?!" The stylist has no choice but to watch the two of them frantically struggle out of their costumes, desperate to pass the huge, puffy fabric suits off to each other.

"Yeah, I think it's a great idea! It'll surprise the audience, wouldn't it?"

"Besides, my member colour is yellow! Aiba can't believably play the sun."

Aiba rescues himself first then aims to help Nino out of his own costume, but many hands make heavy work. The zipper gets stuck.

"You idiot! Are we sure your brain isn't the thing that disintegrated into nothing? Get me out of this!"

Aiba stills at Nino's word choice. He was on his way to convincing himself that it wasn't possible, but Nino just confirmed it. They've shared a lot of things before, but a dream as immersive as this one is a first.

Nino realises his mistake and stops struggling with the costume just as Jun storms back into the room.

The tableau is this: Nino's moon is mostly zipped and stuck up above his head. His face is peeking out one of the arm holes while both of his arms are extending straight out of the neck hole. Aiba's arms are awkwardly bent in an effort to gain leverage on the zipper. The costume-matched morph suits they're wearing leave nothing to interpretation. The stylist is heaving from the exertion of finding someone capable of stopping the madness. Jun is so visibly furious it's like he's trying to represent global warming using only his skin tone.

"I would ask what the fuck is going on here, but frankly I don't care. Aiba, get back in costume. Nino, if you're on stage in the next 5 minutes, then I won't leave you stuck in that thing even after rehearsals are over. And for god's sake, would it kill you to eat a vegetable?"

There is no response from the disaster duo, so Jun rolls his eyes. "Five minutes!" he reminds as he stalks out of the green room.

Nino sneers at Jun's retreating form as he resettles himself into the moon costume. "If I were the real moon and he were the real earth, I'd eject myself out of orbit and let him drown in his own oceans." He leaves without another word.

It's much easier to get back into a costume with a calm demeanour than it is to get out of one while panicking, so Aiba catches up to Nino easily. He wants to say a clever thing he would do to Jun's Earth if he were the real sun, but it's too hard to think of one. Instead he asks, "Where would you go?"

"Jupiter so I could get more stupider. It's tiring being the smartest person in every room I walk into."

Aiba hums. "Jupiter is pretty far away, even from the sun."

Nino stops walking, and Aiba follows suit. His make-up is smeared, the hallway they're in is poorly lit, and the triangular rays on his costume are bent, but Aiba still seems to glow.

Or maybe it's just the smile Aiba gives him, seeming to read something in Nino's posture that he didn't say out loud. "Well, I'm glad you're here, Moon."

Aiba grabs his hand and leads them to walk again towards the stage. Nino looks down at the joined hands and wonders if he heard the last syllable correctly.

~~~

A/N (8.24.2022): The final line refers to the fact that the words for moon and liking someone romantically are pronounced the same in Japanese. Also, I was so obsessed with the realisation that the kanji for days and months were the same as the kanji for sun and moon. This parallel is seen in English as well, so I shouldn't have been surprised, but !!!

With this, it should be the end of my Arashi as inanimate objects fixation, haha! Actually, I am legitimately quite proud of this one. I haven't seen anyone have this take on the moon before, where it's a pompous and angry figure. (If you know of one - fanfic or poem or short story - drop it in the comments! I'd love to read it.)

#arashi #arashi fanfiction #aiba masaki #ninomiya kazunari #ninoai #aimiya #jpop #jaso*#futarinokinenbi

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