Mercurial Dreams – Chapter Nineteen

OMG, I GOT BRICKED SO BADLY FOR THAT CLIFFHANGER! Your protests were well-heard, alright. I tried not to leave this chapter hanging again. It’s not exactly a cliffhanger, but I assure you, it ends on a happy note! As you can see, I’m trying to redeem myself here. :D

BTW – it only took me one week to write&edit&publish this chapter up! Aren’t you proud of me? 8Dv

ADDITIONAL NOTE:
This chapter is written from Sho’s point of view. I thought it would give a fresh perspective on Sho and Hiroki’s relationship, and also gives you readers a glimpse of Sho’s true feelings towards Hiroki. Tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: Lyrics of ‘Blue’ are credited to TaijiProject. Translations are found here.

~

Author: tashiichaan
Rating: T
Genre: Romance, angst, humour
Featuring: Sakurai Sho
Banner designed by: tashiichaan
Story Summary: Hiroki never holds expectations for anything. She never expected to be promoted just 6 months into her job; she never expected her housemate to be a little more sane; but of all those damned unexpectations, she didn’t expect to find herself drawn into the life of Sakurai Sho. She didn’t expect to fall in love with him. And it all starts with a can of Coke.

- – - – - -

Mercurial Dreams
Chapter Nineteen

(time: 00:18; sender: Sho) Where did you go? I couldn’t find you after the shooting. Mao’s sister said you were with her. Please call me back. Sho.

(time: 01:03; sender: Sho) I can’t get through you at all. Why did you turn off your phone?

(time: 02:48; sender: Sho) I’m going crazy wondering if you’re okay. If it weren’t for your weird friend, I would be at your doorstep right now. I’m contemplating if I should wake Aiba up just to go check on you.

(time: 04:07; sender: Sho) Are you trying to avoid me? Are you angry at me? Did I do something that made you mad?

(time: 05:31; sender: Sho) Hiroki… I’m leaving for Fukuoka in an hour, and I can’t call you till the tour is over. How am I going to live through 2 weeks thinking of nothing but you and your deafening silence?

(time: 06:12; sender: Sho) I asked everyone and they said you seemed fine last night. I even asked if I did anything wrong and they said no. Please, I don’t give a damn if you don’t want to talk to me ever again, but at least just tell me what I did wrong!

(time: 06:50; sender: Sho) I’m boarding the plane now. I want to let you know that… whatever I did, I’m really sorry. Please forgive me. I hope we can talk again when I’m back in Tokyo. Take care. Sho.

~

As Sho found out, he was pretty good at putting on a detached, indifferent mask.

If there were something he’d learned in more than ten years of idol-work under Johnny’s, it was hiding his true feelings deep within the barred confines of his heart. He had always been unhappy and disgruntled by this – as a young Junior he had called it – the art of pretending. But in such a situation he was involuntarily plunged into right now, he found myself being overtly grateful for it.

Since arriving in Fukuoka, Sho never allowed himself to feel. He worked and worked and worked: practising dance sets, rehearsing his solos, going through his lines for the MC, doing anything – anything – but allowing himself to be wrapped up in his thoughts. He stood aloof from the crewmembers and the backup dancers, and in front of his groupmates and his manager, he was upbeat and focused on the concert. He tried to keep a distance from everyone, pretending he was giving a hundred-and-ten percent concentration on doing his best… pretending his mind wasn’t in a disarray… pretending his heart wouldn’t sometimes palpitate with uneasiness, anxiety, or fear.

During the first concert, everything went fine, thank god. Surprising even to himself, Sho found it easy to bury everything within him and just focus on making the concert a success. To those unbeknownst to his current mental state, he might even seem like his usual cheerful, upbeat, Sakurai Sho-like self.

However, during the second concert, things didn’t go as smoothly.

While waiting for Nino’s solo performance to end, he just had to be the world’s stupidest fool… and give Hiroki a call. Standing alone in his dressing room, he had unwittingly grabbed his phone, flipped it open, pressed speed dial 5, dialled the number, and pressed the phone to his ear – all within five unconscious seconds.

Of course, Hiroki wouldn’t pick up. The ringing went on forever until it finally went to voicemail, and Sho didn’t hesitate to leave a message. As if he had done this a thousand times, because truthfully he had.

“Hey, Hiroki… I thought I’d call you. I’m in Fukuoka now, in fact I’m in the middle of the concert.” He let out a soft, bitter chuckle. “I don’t even know why I called you… Have you eaten? Are you well? I know you won’t call me back, or reply my texts… but, erm… please take care of yourself, okay?”

Suddenly the door swung open, and Kikukawa-san, one of the concert ADs, barged in, headset in place around his head, a clipboard in hand, and an anxious expression on his face.

“Sakurai-san! You’re up in five!” he informed.

“Hai!” Sho replied. He sighed tiredly, and said into the phone, “I have to go. Hope we can talk soon. Bye.”

He shut his phone and chucked it onto the leather sofa before he stepped out of the dressing room, adjusting his costume as he made his way towards the main stage area. He spotted Matsumoto near the east stage, getting ready for his entrance while a few stylists fixed the velcro straps on his costume.

“Don’t mess up!” Matsumoto called out, and gave a confident, two-finger salute, wearing a smug look on his face. He must have had a very successful solo performance.

“You don’t mess up either!” Sho shouted back, grinning and waving, and walked off.

He hated how he suddenly felt sick to the stomach, the moment the grin was wiped off his face. Great, talk about timing. Just when their next song was a ballad.

Sho sat at the white grand piano and waited for his cue as the platform was slowly raised onto the stage. The moment Nino finished singing his song, he began playing the intro of Blue.

“Awai buruu no sukaato ga, yuugure no oka ni tanabiku; bonyari to kangaete mita eien tte konna mon ka naa.”

The soft, instrumental melody, combined with Nino’s gentle voice, suddenly brought a sharp pang to Sho’s heart. The hurt was physical, and so large was its magnitude that he visibly winced. He bit his lip to subdue the pain.

“’Koi wa itsuka owaru yo’ to tooi me de kimi ga tsubuyaku,” Ohno next sang, “kikoenai furi o shiteta no kizuite kureta ka naa.”

This was his cue. Sho took a deep breath, before he sang.

“Nandomeka no sakura no hanabira ga yurari kaze ni matta…”

He shuddered involuntarily as her smile, lightly playing on her lips, suddenly appeared in his mind. No, no, please not now, he pleaded inwardly, but it was too far gone. Her smile disappeared, and now the image was replaced by her eyes, rounded and tinged with hazel brown flecks in the irises, it was her eyes that held her innocence, her heart, her soul.

Hiroki.

“Toki ga tatte mo kawaranai omoi ga koko ni aru…”

And it was as if the floodgates burst open; his vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes.

“Aitakute aitakute; Yume de kimi o dakishimete miru. Oikakete oikakete; fukai meiro o samayotteru.”

He managed to hold back the tears, but inadvertently, one tear escaped and slid down his cheek in forlorn.

“Aitakute aitakute; Yume ja nai honmono no kimi ni. Aenakute aenakute; Ikiba no nai omoi ni oboreteru.”

Sho closed his eyes shut, and continued gliding his fingers over the keys, playing with more vigour, almost as if with a sudden flare of raging passion. But in the darkness of his own mind, he only saw Hiroki’s face, and the only words that crossed his mind were:

Sorae… I miss you.

To Sho, he kept those tears to himself, and continued the performance as if nothing happened. But to the fifty-thousand people in the audience, and the other four people on the stage, they were not mistaken: they witnessed the tears in Sakurai Sho’s eyes.

~

After the concert, Sho didn’t speak to anyone.

He didn’t speak much even as Jun gave a rousing congratulatory speech, backstage after the last encore performance; he could barely muster a stiff smile. He didn’t speak much as they rode the tour bus back to their hotel room; in fact, he didn’t even speak at all as everyone filed to the hotel lobby restaurant for a buffet dinner. Sho decided to just skip dinner altogether, and retired to his room.

He dumped his bag on the floor, quickly stripped off his clothes and dragged his feet into the bathroom. He stepped under the shower and turned the tap to the coldest water temperature possible; he shivered violently as the ice-cold water hit his face.

He stood silent and unmoving for the longest time, his palms pressed against the tiled wall, his chin almost touching his chest; the only movement in the bathroom was the water raining down his bent head and his back. A million things ran through his mind, all of which brought a wave of sadness and uncertainty that the water could not wash away, even though he wished it could.

He jumped a foot when someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Sho?”

It was Ohno.

“Coming,” Sho called out.

He turned the tap off and stepped out of the shower, droplets of water running in rivulets down his body. He wrapped a fresh towel around his lower body and stepped out of the bathroom, but he stopped in his tracks at Ohno and Nino sitting on the double bed.

“Hey,” Nino greeted.

“We brought you dinner,” Ohno said, pointing at the plate wrapped in aluminium foil that was placed on the dressing table.

“Thanks,” Sho mumbled, “but I’m not hungry.”

Sho crossed the room to the sliding door, unlocking it and stepping out onto the balcony. He shivered at the cold breeze that blew against his naked upper body, but he didn’t really care. The coldness would take his mind off things. He leaned against the metal railing and stared wordlessly at the skyline of Fukuoka city: amidst the bright city lights, Fukuoka Tower and Sky Dream ferris wheel stood out against the colourless background of the dark night sky. Standing on the 28th floor of the hotel, at close to 360 feet above sea level, Sho had never felt so isolated and alone.

Nino silently came up next to him. He, too, leaned against the railing and gazed at the horizon.

“We know, you know.”

“I don’t know what you know,” Sho snapped, a little too harshly. His eyes widened in realisation, and apologetically he bowed his head. “Sorry.”

“Don’t know if you noticed, but fifty-thousand other people saw you crying on stage.”

Sho whirled around. “I wasn’t crying,” he retorted in stubborn defense.

“It was pretty damn obvious actually, when your face is on a thirty-feet-wide screen,” Nino chuckled, his tone dark and bitter.

“Are you okay?” Ohno asked gently. He was sitting on the wicker chair with his arms crossed, though not disapprovingly. He was the empathetic one who never failed to bring some form of comfort. “It’s about Hiroki, isn’t it?”

Sho didn’t reply. He felt that familiar stab of heartache in his chest at the sound of that name.

The room door suddenly burst open, and Aiba and Jun trudged into the room. Judging by the glazed look in his eyes and the slightly crazed smile on his lips, Jun definitely had had a few drinks already. As Jun leaned against the door – how did he manage to stay so sexy even if he was drunk? – and waved, “Yo!”, Aiba tried to convey a non-verbal message to the three men at the balcony from behind Jun’s back. He pointed at Jun, and mimicked a large swig of beer, then he pointed at Sho, formed an X with his arms, then smashed his fist into his palm.

Well, that was pretty self-explanatory.

But of course, Aiba tend to exaggerate beyond all humanely possible points of exaggeration.

“Erm, Matsujun, you okay?” Nino asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jun walked over to the side of the bed that faced the balcony and sat down, his arms crossed. “You,” he pointed to Sho, “start talking.”

Perplexed, Sho could only blink. “What?”

“I gotta say, those tears worked wonders for the performance,” Jun nodded proudly, “but of course, we know damn well it wasn’t fake. So, tell us. What the fuck did Hiroki do to you to screw you up so bad?”

“Does anyone not know about this?!” Sho exclaimed hotly.

“Nope,” Jun smiled serenely – a serene smile only those half-drunk could pull off so well. “Now, talk.”

Sho sighed, and sat down heavily on the wicker chair opposite Ohno. He told them about Hiroki ignoring his texts and his calls, and how it was driving him insane because he didn’t know why she was ignoring him, and how he had been wracking his brain trying to figure out if she was mad at him, or if she was disappointed in him, or if she decided he just wasn’t good enough for her; what went wrong, or what he did wrong.

When Sho was finished, he slumped down in his chair in defeat. The crestfallen look in his face was as bad as if his beloved pet dog died.

“Okay,” Aiba nodded, and stood up. “You’ve got to replay back your memory. When did this happen?”

“A few days ago, the night before we left Tokyo,” Sho answered. “I just don’t know… we were fine before the NEWS ZERO shooting! We were in the dressing room, and we almost kissed and–”

“Wait, WHAT?” Nino exclaimed. “You kissed?!”

“Almost,” Sho retorted.

“Maybe she freaked out?” Ohno suggested.

“If she did freak out, that says a lot about your kissing,” Jun remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sho glared at Jun, sitting with his leg crossed demurely over the other and with a mad, sadistic glint in his eyes. “Not helping,” Sho growled.

“Anything else after that?” Aiba prompted.

“Shooting went smoothly. I saw her at the back at the studio, watching. After shooting was over, I waved at her and she smiled back at me. She smiled at me,” he repeated in sheer, wide-eyed disbelief.

“Is that the last time you saw her?” Nino asked.

“Yes! Why do you think it’s making me go crazy? I keep replaying it in my head, trying to remember something, but all I can recall is that smile of hers and how beautiful she looked and how it made me so happy… and… and… aaaaargh!” Sho groaned in frustration and ruffled his hands in his wet hair wildly like a madman. Now his hair stood up at odd ends.

“Well.” Nino sat on the arm of Ohno‘s chair. “Considering that, you must have done something bad.”

“Well, you finally figured that part out,” Sho said bitingly.

“I mean after the smiling-at-you-and-making-you-all-gooey part.”

“Think, Sho-chan!” Aiba nudged, giving a small, encouraging smile. “There’s got to be something!”

Sho closed his eyes and tried to recall the event. “I was making my way to her, Kobayashi-san was right in front of me when she tripped over a cable. I caught her in time when she fell and I–” Sho’s eyes suddenly sprung open and he straightened up to his feet so suddenly that the wicker chair fell backwards. “OH MY GOD!”

Jun snickered under his breath. It was so evident to him – and the others, in fact – and it dawned on them the moment Sho mentioned his fellow newcaster’s name, even though their reaction wasn’t as explosive as Sho’s. “Took you that long, didn’t it?” Jun smirked.

“So Hiroki thought there’s something going on between you and Kobayashi?” Ohno asked, a little dumbfounded.

“That woman… that woman!” he exclaimed furiously. He started pacing the length of the balcony, his movements impatient and furious. “Is she crazy?! I hold another woman in my arms for five seconds and she thinks I’m in love in her?!”

“This coming from the guy who cried about it in front of fifty-thousand people,” Jun pointed out.

“Did not!” Sho retorted indignantly.

“Did too.”

“Matsumoto, I swear…!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll shut up.”

Aiba rolled his eyes and smacked Jun on the back of his head. Of course, Jun spun around and silently cursed the tall man, but Aiba only gave him a meaningful glare.

“So… now what?” Aiba asked.

“I’m going to have to set the record straight.” With a determined look, Sho strode into the room and grabbed his phone from his bag, but Nino stopped him.

“You can’t call her,” he said, shaking his head.

“Why not?!”

“Because you’ve called her a million times and probably sent her a billion texts, another one isn’t going to change her mind,” he explained.

An angry guttural growl left Sho’s lips, and he almost crushed the gadget in his balled fist. “Then what?!” he practically shouted.

“Go see her, obviously,” Jun said.

“But we’re going to Osaka tomorrow!”

“We don’t have much activities in our schedule tomorrow, so we’ve got the day off. Look, I can explain to Manager-san and Takaya-san. I’ll come up with something – they’ll accept anything if I told them. We’ll cover for you, but you’ve got to be back by Thursday.”

Sho stared weirdly at Jun for the longest time, and then his face broke into a broad grin. He swung an arm around Jun’s shoulder, and he was pretty much just one step from kissing him. “You’re a nice guy after all, aren’t you?”

“Whatever,” Jun said gruffly.

“You should sleep,” Ohno advised, “and take the train back to Tokyo in the morning.”

Sleep, Sho definitely tried. After everyone retired to their rooms, Sho delved under the sheets and tried to sleep, but he was wide awake. He couldn’t help but feel rejuvenated, vigorous, energised, alive. He got out of bed and did fifty push-ups, hoping it would tire him out, but he was more alert than before.

Finally he gave up. He changed into jeans and a simple T-shirt and packed his bag. Returning to Tokyo now wouldn’t change anything right? At least, it would give him a peace of mind, knowing he was closer to Hiroki. He smiled to himself, thinking of her. He was going to explain to her, even beg for forgiveness, if that was what it would take for her to finally take him back. If all else failed, he would win her back, simple as that.

Sakurai Sho was now a man on a mission to win the heart of the woman he loved.

~