Banany's fic journal

Title: Voices (Part 7/?)
Pairings: Koyama/Shige, Tegoshi/Masuda
Word count: 3,501
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Following an accident, the members of NEWS are left in hospital in comas. Upon awakening, their memories have been replaced with those of being other people, from another world.



Nishito Akira sat across the table from his girlfriend, watching her devour a double beef burger and large french fries. His own iced tea sat almost untouched, and he was content to leave it that way. Eating and drinking, he found, was troublesome. His family and friends – false friends, most of them – thought it was because of pressure from his modelling agency, from insistence that he stay thin. It suited him that they think that way, but really, the reason was that he hated it.

Food became a horrible mush in your mouth after a couple of chews, and he found it disgusting. After all, if you took out your half chewed food and looked at it, you wouldn't want to swallow that. So why, he reasoned, should you want to swallow it just because it's already in your mouth and you haven't seen it? He ate to survive. But he never enjoyed it.

His girlfriend Eri, on the other hand, loved to eat. She was a tiny thing, slim and short – shorter than him, though not by much – but had such a fast metabolism that it looked as though she barely ate at all. She was pretty, an actress – dramas and commercials, but no movies yet – and had a wholesome sort of image that his agency and mother approved of. Not that that was the reason he stuck around. He loved her, sort of, but more importantly, he liked her. There were really not that many people in the world he liked.

He liked his little sister, and he liked Eri. He didn't really like his father, but he admired the man to a degree, and thought he had good sense, mainly for divorcing his mother. Although if he thought about it, he'd needed to marry her in the first place to be able to divorce her, and marrying her was not what he'd call good sense.
Nishito hated his mother.

"So my agency pretty much turned down the role for me. I mean, the character was interesting, and the drama is bound to be popular, but... I guess the role was a little too sexy for me. And I guess I'm not really the glamorous type that it takes to pull that off, am I?"
Nishito shrugged, "I guess so. Why else would they turn down a role for what promises to be a popular drama?"
Eri pouted. "Akira, are you saying that I'm not sexy?"
"I guess so." He said again, then took a small sip of his iced tea.

Eri kept pouting for a while, but then sighed and quit. Nishito was the blunt type, and she'd accepted that a long time ago. He didn't believe in white lies or twisting words. Couldn't be bothered with them. He could fake smiles, but that took little effort. Sometimes he worried her. It was almost like he thought of life as something to be endured, something not worth putting effort into, and the sooner it was over the better.

"Can't believe my own boyfriend doesn't find me sexy." She said, trying to turn it into a joke. She was mostly used to his behaviour by now, but sometimes his words still stung.
"I didn't say that." He replied. "But you're not the sexy type. You're the cute type. And I prefer that. All the girls I work with, all those models. They're all the public's perceived sexy type, and they're all empty, plastic whores who'd fuck anyone it took to get their names down in print."

Eri tried hard to keep from smiling. She knew that if she did, he'd tell her that he hadn't been paying her a compliment – he'd just been saying what he thought. But regardless, it made her happy. And it was true. She was the cute type. Her hair was undyed, and though stylish, it wasn't glamorous. She dressed the same way – cute, stylish, but not at all revealing, and certainly not sexy.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that?" She asked, teasing him. She knew he wouldn't tease back. He never did.
"You know I'm not." He replied, and pushed his not even half empty glass away from him. He'd had enough.
"But how can I be sure?" Eri replied, making fake worried eyes at him. "What if you're lying to me?"

His lip twitched a little – not into a smile, but rather into a smirk – and his eyes gleamed. "What have you got planned for the rest of the day?" He asked, and Eri thought for a moment, then replied that she was free.
Nishito chuckled. "Well, why don't I show you just how cute I find you?" He asked.
Eri blushed, but the smile she'd been holding back finally spilled across her face. "I'd like that." She said.


Nishito liked sex. He liked the way it felt, and the raw animalism and honesty of it. He especially liked the way he wasn't expected to show any sentimentality, nor was he condemned for it. Just hold the girl and kiss her once you’ve finished, as she's breathlessly pledging her eternal love to you, over and over again.

When it was Eri, he could even manage a gruff, "I love you too", because it wasn't really a lie. He didn't really mind the aftermath with her, because she was a realist and never promised him forever and a day or the whole of her heart for the rest of their lives. It was always just, "I love you, Akira", and only ever once at that. It was that quality of hers that made him think that maybe he wouldn't mind marrying her one day.

Nishito's favourite test for finding a girl who he wouldn't mind marrying was to imagine how he'd feel about still being with her if she became ugly, fat and decrepit. If he didn't mind, he figured that must mean that they were marriageable material. Beauty was a blinding force. Sometimes, if someone was beautiful enough, it could take you years to realise that you actually hated them, and by then it was too late.

Eri was the first girl to pass this test, so Nishito guessed that maybe she could be The One. Though to be fair, only time would tell. That was alright with him, though. He had the whole rest of his life, full of time, to find some woman to marry before he died.

He woke up the next morning to an empty bed and the sound of his phone ringing. It rang three times before it was answered, and a fully dressed Eri came to deliver it to him.
"I've got to go and re-do a photo shoot. I'll see you later." She told him quickly, then kissed his forehead and handed him the receiver.
"Hello, Nishito Akira speaking." He said groggily, as Eri disappeared, leaving only the smell of her perfume behind.
"Akira, I still haven't gotten my check for this month." The voice from the other side of the phone answered, in lieu of any kind of greeting.
Nishito gritted his teeth. "Hello mother." He replied, not trying to dull down the distaste and bitterness in his voice. He doubted his mother would notice. She probably expected this kind of tone from him now.
"Hello." Ms. Nishito finally said, though it seemed reluctant. "Your payment is overdue by a week, you know. Am I going to get my money or not?"
He sneered at the receiver, wishing she could see his face. "I'm sorry, has the money from father already run out?"

"Don't take that tone with me, will you?" His mother snapped at him, though he hadn’t sounded any less disgusted than he usually did when they spoke to each other. "I raised you and fed you and clothed you this whole time, and now it's your duty to repay me. I'm sure you can't spend the bucket loads of money you get from your job, which may I remind you, is thanks to me, by yourself. So, stop being greedy and send me my check."

After some grumbling and eventual grudging reassurances that yes, he'd get around to sending it this week, she finally relented and hung up. As soon as he heard the dial tone, Nishito flung the receiver across the room, hoping that if it broke, maybe – just maybe – his mother would shatter into pieces along with it. When it hit, the phone didn't even crack, and instead the wall dented where it had impacted.
Somehow, it made him feel like he'd been beaten.

He lay back down in bed. At first he thought he'd be far too on edge and angry to be able to fall asleep again, but it seemed he'd underestimated himself, because soon his eyes wouldn't stay open, and his thoughts became less and less clear, and he dozed off again.

~*~*~*~

You're scowling. Even though you didn't tell your face to scowl, you're not really surprised, because when you don't have to smile and look pretty for society, that's the expression you usually sport.
It's when a brown haired boy, significantly taller than you, sticks his face right up close into yours and tells you, "Ryo-chan, smile!" that you start to feel bothered. You're not 'Ryo-chan', and although he seems familiar, you don't know who this boy is. You are, however, pretty sure he isn't your photographer, and since he isn't, he has no right to be telling you what to do with your facial muscles.

You intend to feel annoyed, and try your hardest to achieve it, but for some odd reason, the feeling doesn't come.
"You're wasting your time." Says another guy you don't know, and yet another with the most intense eyes you've ever seen, starts to laugh. The rest of them join in, laughing loud and raucously in a way that you know should make you angry, but strangely enough, you just feel at home.

"He's just a sourpuss, Uchi. You know that. I still can't figure out why we like him so much."
"I love him!" Uchi declares, and just like that the argument is dropped in favour of watching the guy who called him a sourpuss hitting another guy who, for some reason, is wearing a skirt.

You realize that you're surrounded by 7 complete idiots, and you've never ever felt quite as happy.

~*~*~*~

Koyama smiled when Shige came jogging up to the spot where he was standing outside of the karaoke building.
"Sorry for making you wait." He said after catching his breath. Koyama shook his head, and his smile only seemed to widen. It made Shige's heart leap. Only a week ago, Koyama had barely been able to look at him, and now he was smiling just because Shige had shown up.

"I haven't here long." Koyama replied. "Are you ready for today's Shige-lesson?"
Seisuke laughed. "What, this is a Shige-lesson?" He asked.
That was the special name they'd given to the little sessions where Koyama taught him how to be himself again. It was their own private joke, and though small, it felt like a large stepping stone in building – or perhaps rebuilding – their friendship.
"Yup," Said Koyama, "Shige-lesson number 16. NEWS song practice at karaoke!"

Once they arrived in their room, Koyama handed him a microphone, looking serious.
"Now, you have to remember." He said in his best teacher like voice, "When we go to karaoke together, we never sing NEWS songs. It's important that you don't forget that fact. But today is a special day to make sure that you know the lyrics properly. So we're going to sing with our backs to the machine so you can't read them, okay?"

Shige cracked up.
"That's ridiculous." He said, laughing so hard he almost dropped the microphone. Koyama looked wounded.
"I thought it was a good idea." He said.
"It is a good idea." Shige answered after he'd calmed down. "It's just that if anyone sees us, they'll probably think that we’re insane."

As it turned out, Shige did know most of the lyrics to their songs. He only had a couple of moments where he forgot them or mixed them up. But, as Koyama said, even people like the Revered Yamapi or the Very Famous Kamenashi Kazuya, who Seisuke admittedly still got mixed up with Akanishi and Taguchi, made slip ups.
If Shige screwed up, it wasn't like it was the end of the world; no one was perfect. And fans thought that kind of thing was cute – it'd be the news of the week, and then be largely forgotten, only to be mentioned every once in a while when the topic became relevant.
All in all, Shige was able to feel pretty accomplished and positive about his progress.

"Also," Koyama reminded him, "It's not like you're suddenly going to be asked to get up on stage and sing a medley of every single one of our tracks in existence, all by yourself. If we do a performance any time soon, it'll only be one or two songs, and you'll have so much time to memorise those that before you know it, you'll be singing them in your sleep."
Shige chuckled. "I'm not sure I want that. I have to take my work home enough as it is."
"Yeah." Koyama replied, still smiling. Shige's heart felt warm. "Hey, want to get dinner now? All that singing made me hungry."
"Sure." Shige agreed, trying not to sound too eager.

They walked the streets as the last of the sunlight trickled away, and the transition from day to night began. Little lights sprung up around the city, and Shige was reminded of a dream he'd often had in his other life, in which he'd looked down on a changing city from a hotel room window. It was probably because of this dream that he would always associate Koyama with city lights.
They eventually came across a hole-in-the-wall pizza-pasta place that neither of them had known existed, and they took a booth as close to the back of the room as they could. They'd have to remember this place if the food was good, Koyama said and if it was, they'd come again.

Seisuke loved pasta; it was probably his favourite food. He desperately wished that it was still rice cutlet or omelette or whatever it was that Koyama had said that Shige had liked to eat before the accident. He felt like he was betraying Koyama by being different, having different favourites, having to switch all their old haunts for new ones because his tastes had changed. It made him feel like he didn't belong here. But if he thought about it, he didn't in his old world either. Maybe he just didn't belong anywhere.

As Koyama chattered away to him, about how the food was good, and his sister's children and all sorts of things in between, Seisuke's mind began to mull over what Dr. Leone had told him earlier that day. Her theories were completely insane, and he didn't want to believe any of them. But then again, he'd been wondering for a while if perhaps he too was completely insane, and maybe all of this was just an illusion. Even so, he had no choice but to keep the ball in the air and keep progressing with life. Society wasn't going to stop for him, and if he didn't keep his head above water, he'd be swept away by the tidal pull.

"Hey Koyama." He said, tone so cautious that it almost seemed hesitant. "Have you ever wondered about life on other planets? Like, whether or not it exists?"
Koyama gave him a funny look; a puzzled kind of quizzical smile. "You mean like aliens? Come on, Shige. That's crazy talk."
Seisuke laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess so." He agreed. "Crazy."
Koyama laughed along with him, and reached over to give him a fond pat on the wrist before resuming normal conversation.
'Crazy talk, huh.' Seisuke thought. He took another bite of pasta, then chewed it until it turned into a mushy paste in his mouth before swallowing.

~*~*~*~

In the evenings, Yamasaki tutored his fellow classmates for spare cash. He'd known that he wanted to have a career in computers since his last year of middle school, because he was told that big money could be made there.
Sometimes, though, he regretted not working harder at English. When he heard about how much money English conversation tutors made, it made him feel like the amount of money he made from tutoring IT was a mere pittance.

However, he told himself, he was planning for the future. One day soon, once he'd graduated and got to work, he'd be able to make enough money to give his mother the comfortable life she deserved. And so, if he could help out now with money from his part time job and from tutoring his peers, it would suffice until that day came.

Tonight, he was tutoring Kaori, one of the less capable students in the class. Although she was talented, gifted even, in the field of graphic design, Kaori and computer programming didn't mesh well. And because the course they were taking together had involved web design at a more-than-basic-level, Kaori had known that she'd find it useful.

Unfortunately, she hadn't counted on it being quite so technical, and was now struggling to keep up. This explained her presence in a class that consisted of 95% boys. Kaori had long, styled hair, immaculate make-up, and a whatever's-in fashion sense, which gave off an aura that just screamed 'popular girl'.

Truth be told, Yamasaki hadn't even dreamed of approaching her to offer his expertise as a tutor, although he imagined a bucket load of other boys had. He'd known where he stood in the world. Kaori was a beauty queen, who probably went through boyfriends faster than she went through socks, and Yamasaki was a shy, reserved boy, who was gifted with computers.
That's why he'd nearly fainted when she'd come up to him after class one day, and had asked if she could possibly request his services, because she was worried about being faced with a very real possibility of failing the class.

Now that he thought about it, he'd probably been the logical person to ask; a good number of their other classmates had large, plastic rimmed glasses, or buckteeth that could've put a jack rabbit to shame, or spat when they spoke. There were others who had so much acne on their face it could've been counted as another facial feature along with their eyes, nose and mouth, ones who wouldn't have recognised social skills even if they'd been beaten over the head with them, and more with any assorted number of these ailments.

Yamasaki wasn't under the misconception that he was cool or anything, but he knew that he was relatively attractive, and since he was more than likely the only boy in the class who hadn't approached Kaori to offer her 'extra tuition', he was also a safe choice for her.
And so now, they had sessions together twice a week. She always thanked him before he left, flashing him a sweet smile and a little too much breast as she did. He was relieved to see that she was making progress after a month or two. Occasionally, as she worked away, he'd find himself staring up her too-short skirts, trying to catch a glimpse of her milky-white thighs, but always averting his eyes after a while to avoid getting caught.

She had a boyfriend, over protective and jealous, who already hated Yamasaki for the sole reason that he spent two hours a week alone with his girlfriend in her room.
"Don't mind him." Kaori told Yamasaki, after a particularly tense meeting with him. "I'm thinking about breaking up with him soon anyway." And then she giggled, and leant forward in a way that allowed him to see into her shirt, all the way down to her bra. He briefly wondered whether she was flirting with him, but quickly brushed the notion away.

He certainly wasn't her type. Her current boyfriend was sports-oriented, muscle bound, and barely knew how to work a computer for any reason other than looking up porn on the internet. Yamasaki, on the other hand, could barely run, and the first and only time he'd seen pornography, it had been quite traumatic for him.
All in all, he wasn't the sort of guy that someone like Kaori was interested in. That wasn't to say he didn't want her to be interested, of course. It was just that he was sure she couldn't be.

And so the reasons for her constant offers to stay for dinner, or invitations to hang out outside of his tutoring sessions went unquestioned, and he continued on with his usual routine, the same way as he always had.
Perhaps it was true that things always seem the most monotonous right before the most life changing events occur.
~*~*~*~