[Arashi] Homecoming (2/2)
Feb. 13th, 2014 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
neko_kirin3104<<<<< Part 01
Mother died just before the ninth year ended.
And what broke Jun’s heart about it was not because it happened too early, or that it happened at all, but because it served as a heart-wrenching validation of what Sho had been trying to make him understand all those years ago.
That he could only ignore the war for so long, until it came around to bite him in the ass, drive him to his knees and force him to look the enemy in the eye.
This was exactly what he was doing, on that early morning of the day when his whole life fell apart.
He had just watched a green-skinned bastard shoot his mother in the head point blank, sending blood and brain matter spattering on the walls like some form of organic tapestry.
Mother had been saying for weeks how she wanted to paint the walls a different color. Jun found it both harrowing and offensive how he could think of nothing else but this right now.
His mother had just died.
And the enemy was pressing the muzzle of the deplorable alien gun on his forehead, searing his skin with the lingering heat from its previous kill.
In the face of an almost sure death, Jun did not see a montage of his own life pass through his vision. Instead, he saw the Green Skin’s bug eyes sheening with something that resembled tears, dimmed by a veil of emotion that could almost be taken for regret.
The sight of it stunned Jun for a while, his mind drawing on a total blank, until he heard the deafening crack of a gunshot, and for a split-second thought for sure that he was dead.
But he could still see the Green Skin crumpling to its knees before him, could still feel something cold and viscous running in thick trails down his face, could still hear someone calling out to him, telling him to get up, hauling him rather violently by the arm when he failed to respond appropriately, and pulling him outside to treat his still blurry sights on the large scale devastation happening beyond the walls of his house.
A discordant strain of gunshots and screams, interlaced with the subtler cacophony of crackling fire and mournful sobs of disbelief and loss—a rather fitting requiem to a once peaceful and modest town suddenly crumbling into ashes.
“Hurry up! Come on! Move!” the man who saved his life screamed into his face, his voice sounding almost comically squeaky and boyish as he dragged Jun along while randomly firing the assault rifle he held expertly in one hand.
For one brief moment Jun thought it was Sho—he wished that it was Sho—gripping his arm like letting go would have been an unforgivable crime. But his sight cleared up soon enough to help him realize that it wasn’t.
This guy was far from being Sho, but Jun did all his best to follow his lead anyway.
He kept running, tripping on his own feet and almost falling flat on his face countless times, but the uniformed man kept pulling him up, telling him to keep moving, to never stop for anything at all if he valued his life.
Jun didn’t really feel like valuing his life anymore, but there was something in the way that the man held him tight and persisted on taking him along that made him feel obliged to keep going.
For some reason, he felt like he could trust this man with his life.
And for some reason, he ended up being right.
Razing human settlements to the ground was the alien conqueror’s final retaliation, their last desperate spurt of madness, before they completely laid down their arms, packed up the remnants of their once proud race, the debris of their staggering downfall, and willingly boarded their ships to head off into the stars, presumably to the next planet feebly structured enough to willingly bow down to their feet.
Selfish as it may seem, the human race didn’t really care anymore. As soon as the visitors had shot themselves off into the stratosphere, they immediately set off to pick up the pieces of their lives, though it would take years before they could completely recover from everything that they had had to suffer through.
The weight of it all did not hit Jun until after the war was over. When he was finally breathing normally enough, thinking clearly enough to look around him and see the degree of death and devastation with which the war had left his town. He creased his brows as hard as he could to keep his tears from flowing without much luck, pressed his fist to his lips to stop the screams from spilling out, only to end up whimpering like a little child who had just lost everything.
For a moment he felt nothing but hatred for the rebel army, for if they hadn’t gotten it into their heads to wage war against the conquerors, this would never have happened. What was the point of it all, really? If they could’ve co-existed together peacefully, never mind that they were denied much of the natural, industrial and technological resources that rightfully belonged to them, never mind that they had to bow down to rulers that did not even originate from the dregs and sweat of this world, never-fucking-mind everything else, would it not have been all right to just let things be?
What was the point of it all, seriously?
“We’re free,” he heard his savior mumble beside him. “We’re free and that matters. That’s the whole point. We’re just... free.”
Jun did not even realize that he had been lamenting his thoughts loud enough for the uniformed man to hear. He had almost forgotten he actually had a representative of the rebel army he hated so much close enough for him to pound his fist into until he was relieved of the searing anger buzzing through his skin.
But what kept him from doing so was the fact that the man was crying just like he was. The same trail of tears, the same expression of anger and regret in his eyes, as though he, too, was gradually, finally realizing just how much had been sacrificed, how much had been lost for the sake of winning this war.
Jun swept his gaze again at the expanse of the ruins that was once his town, his heart breaking anew at the sight of his own house charred beyond recognition, as it did over and over again at the memory of his mother dying right before his very eyes.
He would’ve seriously crumpled to his knees, if his sights hadn’t landed on a vision that completely and quite fiercely cut through the final layer of his self-indulgent mourning.
His feet were already moving long before he could figure out what he was doing, or what he was supposed to do once he reached the girl sobbing quietly on her dead mother’s chest.
But his own grief allowed him to act by mere instinct. He sat down on the ground, beside the girl, and began rubbing her back comfortingly as more tears fell from his own eyes. He was suddenly remembering Sho’s words about fighting for a better world for their children, their grandchildren, and he was once again having mixed feelings about it all.
On one hand, this girl would undoubtedly have a better life now that they were free, provided that she got over losing her mother first.
“Fuck you, Sho-kun,” he muttered under his breath, the lump of anguish in his throat almost choking him. “Fuck you, you stupid bastard. Fuck you...”
“Jun-nii!”
The girl’s little arms wrapping around his neck stunned him for a moment, even as her plaintive wails kept pounding painfully at his heart.
By the time he managed to move and wrap his own arms around her trembling frame, he had already decided to take responsibility for this girl for as long as he lived. Not because he felt like he had to, but because it suddenly felt like it was the right thing to do.
Jun didn’t know it yet right then, but being Seiran Kobayashi’s guardian would be one of the most fulfilling things that ever happened to his life.
Rebel army soldiers prowled the devastated town, offering assistance and comfort wherever it was needed.
Jun watched the languid movements all around him with sightless eyes, listened to the sounds of grief with an already numbed up heart, as he gently brushed his hand through Seiran’s hair. The girl had already fallen asleep on his lap, her tear-streaked face buried to his chest. He wished it was just as easy for him to shut everything out and nod off like that.
The uniformed man to whom he owed his second life was suddenly crouching down beside them, telling him in a quiet, strangely calming voice that he would take care of everything from here. That he, himself, would give the girl’s mother, as well as Jun’s mother proper burials at the cemetery, which, ironically enough, was the only part of town that was spared.
Jun didn’t even make an effort to protest, or to insist that he should be the one burying his own mother. He felt like he could trust this man with anything right now. Never mind that he was shorter than him, or that, as soon as he took off his drab-colored combat helmet, he looked more like a laidback fisherman who had just been yanked out of his boat in the middle of an afternoon nap than a war-beaten soldier.
“They’re putting up lodging tents on the other side of town,” the man added, his reassuring gaze making a part of Jun’s heart sigh pleasantly. “You should take the girl there and try to get some rest.”
“Thank you,” Jun said, sincerely grateful for more than just the new lease on his life.
The man’s rather aristocratic nose crinkled slightly as he let out a goofy-sounding snort, before his round face shortly contorted into a soft grin, genuine though a little restrained, and just one of many that would be gracing Jun’s life from now until many years later. “I owe Sho-chan my life, you know. It’s just fitting that I saved his beloved in return, right?”
The rush of emotions that burned through Jun’s nerves was hard to identify at first. Should it make him feel happy, relieved that he’s finally talking to someone who had been in contact with Sho, and who could tell him, once and for all, whether the guy was dead or not?
Or did he even want to know at this point?
“Is he...?” he began to ask, his head already throbbing from the weight of all the unshed tears he had been caching up for Sho.
“Yes,” the man replied, reading the rest of Jun’s question in his eyes. “He’s alive.”
For that brief moment nothing else mattered in the world other than the fact that Sho Sakurai, stupid bastard that he was to Jun’s eyes right now, was going to make good on his promises after all.
Satoshi Ohno, along with a couple dozens of his fellow soldiers, stayed back to help them rebuild their town.
At first the rebel army tried to persuade them to move into the safe confines of the walled city that the aliens had just vacated.
But Jun firmly kept his feet on the ground, and in the process persuaded the rest of his townspeople to do the same.
“This is where I promised to wait for Sho-kun,” he insisted. “This is where I’ll stay even if I have to be here on my own.”
Sho apparently had risen through the ranks to become an indispensable official in the Rebel Union. Even though he had fought tooth and nail to join the troop sent out to protect his town, to the point that his senior Junichi Okada had to lock him up to keep him from running away and getting himself mindlessly killed in battle, he failed miserably in his bid to come home for Jun, just when Jun needed him to be here.
“I understand,” he said, because Ohno looked like this bothered his mind more than it did his. “Sho-kun’s done so much more on a larger scale, right?” He bent down to pick up a blackened palette knife from the rubbles of his mother’s sweets shop.
“He did,” Ohno smiled fondly, not ashamed at all to show pride for a close friend’s success. He had volunteered to help Jun clean out the debris from the burned down shop, and Jun was only too happy to accept an extra pair of hands. “It’s his and Nino’s strategic planning that helped us gain ground and eventually win the war.”
Although he was still on the fence about everything that concerned the war, Jun felt his heart flutter proudly at this, like it was his own achievement to claim. “I always knew he’s bound for great things.”
“He couldn’t have done it if it weren’t for you,” Ohno said, looking at him as though he, too, should be applauded for just being himself, causing a slight flush to burn on Jun’s cheeks in the process. “He could seriously talk in length about you, you know? That’s why I knew where you lived, how you looked. Like I knew you for years even before I actually did. And I understand now how you can inspire him so much.”
Jun cleared his throat and carefully laid a shard of broken glass into the garbage bin beside him. “Don’t you have anywhere to go back to, Ohno-san?” He felt like a change of topic was in order.
Ohno sighed and added another shard of glass into the bin. “Not anymore.”
Jun stopped for a while to offer his companion an empathic glance. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Ohno shook his head, his smile never faltering for a second. “I might actually learn to like being here.”
Jun found himself snickering at that. Of course! He had noticed the way the man had been looking at the Mayor’s daughter, Becky, like he could actually consider living the rest of his life in this town.
And to think that Jun had almost proposed marriage to that ballsy and vibrant woman back when he dared Fate to try and change his mind about Sho, and Becky walked into the shop barely a minute later.
“If you can wait for my shop to get back in business, I’ll gladly make your wedding cake for free,” he said, somehow managing to sound both earnest and teasing.
An embarrassed chuckle rolled in Ohno’s throat as he threw a deformed fork into the bin. “I haven’t even talked to her yet, but I’ll take you up on that offer.”
It took five years for Sweet Tempest, the sweets shop that Jun now owned, to be rebuilt from the ashes and resume its curtailed operations.
The town itself took just as much time to regain a semblance of order and normalcy.
Masaki Aiba, one of the army soldiers who used to be a teacher before he got himself enlisted, willingly took on the responsibility of putting up and running an educational center for the children.
Seiran-chan had taken quite a shine to that amiable and naturally goofy man, who had provided both assistance and valuable advice to Jun in raising the girl he had now come to treat as his daughter.
Ohno finally did find the courage to strike up a conversation with Becky, and by some miracle the laidback man had actually convinced the spirited woman, five years later at Sweet Tempest’s opening day, to become his devoted wife.
Everything was going smoothly now at this point that Jun could not help but marvel at the resilience of the human spirit.
Memories of the war descending unbidden on their town will forever be etched in their minds, but they were not going to mope and sulk over it for the rest of their lives. The pain and grief would never go away, but instead of allowing themselves to be burdened by it, they chose to draw as much strength and inspiration from it as they could to keep moving forward with their lives. Just as they knew their departed loved ones would’ve wanted them to do.
Jun had also been getting more regular updates on what Sho Sakurai had been up to, first through the communication devices that Ohno and Aiba had, then later on through daily radio broadcasts after the Rebel Union had gradually figured out the workings of the wireless transmission equipment behind the walls.
He had not spoken to the man himself for years, and the letter he had written for Jun before he went away, and which was perpetually tucked safely in the pocket of Jun’s pants, remained as the most precious reminder of his equally valuable, but now virtually untouchable existence.
Or so, this was what Jun thought, until one unsuspecting day in summer when Sho Sakurai finally walked back into his life.
He was deeply absorbed in drafting out the design for Ohno and Becky’s wedding cake while occasionally popping truffle balls into his mouth.
Seiran-chan was not due home from Aiba’s center for another couple of hours, and it had always been pleasantly idle in his shop at this time of day so he had told his two assistants to take a half-hour break.
He was sitting on the outer side of the counter, his back turned to the door, his pencil lazily moving through the lines and curves of the cake design in his head being gradually translated on paper. There was a bowl of truffles to his left, a half-filled glass of water to his right, and nothing but peace and calmness in his heart.
He actually almost missed the tinkling of the bell at the door and didn’t even bother turning his head until he heard a jarringly familiar voice say, “Excuse me?”
He dropped the pencil in his surprise, the sound of it rolling on the counter and dropping with a ‘plink’ to the ground was magnified ten-folds in his ensuing numbness.
His heart had already beaten a hundred different ways before he actually managed to glance over his shoulder at the guy he had been waiting for for what seemed like an eternity.
And it wasn’t really the sight Jun had expected to see. This Sho Sakurai was dressed in a plain brown shirt, plain gray pants, and was reeking all over with his boringly plain fashion sense that reminded Jun of those days in the past when he used to pick on everything that Sho wore and did without fearing the consequences.
He was also clean-shaven, too, but Jun figured that was a given for a guy, a man who had been voted as one of the twelve Chief Executives of the New World Government.
“They told me I can find the best-tasting chocolates in here,” the older man said, his smile faltering into a disappointed frown when Jun did not respond. “This place doesn’t seem to have the warmest staff, though.”
Jun wordlessly turned his attention back to his draft, his whole body buzzing from the overwhelming blend of pleasant and not-too-pleasant emotions streaking through his nerves. He did not really know how to deal with this man right now. What was he even doing here at Jun’s shop, looking like he had just left a seat in the government empty?
Wait, DID HE...?!
His peripherals told him that Sho had already made his way to the counter and was now leaning an elbow on its surface, his gaze fixed firmly on Jun.
“Macchan...” he called out in a surprisingly small voice that gripped painfully at Jun’s heart.
“What are you doing here, Sho-kun?” Jun did not really mean to sound too angry, but he had never really been good at keeping his temper under control. This was not the way he had imagined things to be. He guessed, without even realizing it, he had already given up on the chance of ever seeing Sho again.
Sho let out a nervous chuckle. “This is... really... kind of... sort of... unexpected.”
Jun almost broke though his own defenses and laughed. Oh, how he had missed hearing Sho sputtering like that! Fifteen years did not really make this man all that much different from the boy that Jun remembered falling madly in love with all those years ago. “Are you staying, or are you just here to see if I’m still alive?”
Sho did not feel the need to respond to that begrudging question with mere words. Instead, Jun saw the man grab a truffle from the bowl moments before he found his face cupped steadfastly in a pair of warm hands, his lips caught in a kiss that started out light and uncertain, gradually gaining grit with each small twitch of Jun’s lips, and eventually taking full rein as soon as Jun opened himself up to it, surrendered himself fully to its chocolate-flavored invasion, their lips and tongues moving together to the mutual beats of their allied hearts.
Jun’s fingers gripped Sho’s wrists tightly, as though he was afraid the man would pull away and run off as soon as he let go. He felt Sho’s fingers slip into the thick tuft of his hair, gripping and pulling for a better angle, a deeper leverage for his desperate need to feel every hidden corner of Jun’s mouth.
The kiss lasted for only half a minute, but Jun felt like it had reaffirmed the entirety of his life, each gust of breath shared making their insides tremble with the implicit knowledge that they’re never going to part again.
Sho pulled away and pressed their foreheads together, his hands on Jun’s cheeks never letting up, Jun’s fingers tightening around Sho’s wrists in response.
“I’m home,” the older man sobbed, the heat and draft of his breath making Jun’s eyes flutter, the warmth of his tears merging with the lush trail already streaming down Jun’s face.
Jun reached out a hand to thumb a trace of melted chocolate from the corner of Sho’s lips. “Welcome back,” he whispered before bridging the waning distance between them with another kiss.
***Because I’ve been LSS-ing|on|these|songs for a totally different reason. xp
Because I need to know that you are safe right here so that I can stay alive out there...
Mother died just before the ninth year ended.
And what broke Jun’s heart about it was not because it happened too early, or that it happened at all, but because it served as a heart-wrenching validation of what Sho had been trying to make him understand all those years ago.
That he could only ignore the war for so long, until it came around to bite him in the ass, drive him to his knees and force him to look the enemy in the eye.
This was exactly what he was doing, on that early morning of the day when his whole life fell apart.
He had just watched a green-skinned bastard shoot his mother in the head point blank, sending blood and brain matter spattering on the walls like some form of organic tapestry.
Mother had been saying for weeks how she wanted to paint the walls a different color. Jun found it both harrowing and offensive how he could think of nothing else but this right now.
His mother had just died.
And the enemy was pressing the muzzle of the deplorable alien gun on his forehead, searing his skin with the lingering heat from its previous kill.
In the face of an almost sure death, Jun did not see a montage of his own life pass through his vision. Instead, he saw the Green Skin’s bug eyes sheening with something that resembled tears, dimmed by a veil of emotion that could almost be taken for regret.
The sight of it stunned Jun for a while, his mind drawing on a total blank, until he heard the deafening crack of a gunshot, and for a split-second thought for sure that he was dead.
But he could still see the Green Skin crumpling to its knees before him, could still feel something cold and viscous running in thick trails down his face, could still hear someone calling out to him, telling him to get up, hauling him rather violently by the arm when he failed to respond appropriately, and pulling him outside to treat his still blurry sights on the large scale devastation happening beyond the walls of his house.
A discordant strain of gunshots and screams, interlaced with the subtler cacophony of crackling fire and mournful sobs of disbelief and loss—a rather fitting requiem to a once peaceful and modest town suddenly crumbling into ashes.
“Hurry up! Come on! Move!” the man who saved his life screamed into his face, his voice sounding almost comically squeaky and boyish as he dragged Jun along while randomly firing the assault rifle he held expertly in one hand.
For one brief moment Jun thought it was Sho—he wished that it was Sho—gripping his arm like letting go would have been an unforgivable crime. But his sight cleared up soon enough to help him realize that it wasn’t.
This guy was far from being Sho, but Jun did all his best to follow his lead anyway.
He kept running, tripping on his own feet and almost falling flat on his face countless times, but the uniformed man kept pulling him up, telling him to keep moving, to never stop for anything at all if he valued his life.
Jun didn’t really feel like valuing his life anymore, but there was something in the way that the man held him tight and persisted on taking him along that made him feel obliged to keep going.
For some reason, he felt like he could trust this man with his life.
And for some reason, he ended up being right.
Every hero needs someone to keep him anchored to the value of his own life, the invaluable weight of his sanity.
I am far from being a hero, Macchan, and I doubt I will ever be one...
I am far from being a hero, Macchan, and I doubt I will ever be one...
Razing human settlements to the ground was the alien conqueror’s final retaliation, their last desperate spurt of madness, before they completely laid down their arms, packed up the remnants of their once proud race, the debris of their staggering downfall, and willingly boarded their ships to head off into the stars, presumably to the next planet feebly structured enough to willingly bow down to their feet.
Selfish as it may seem, the human race didn’t really care anymore. As soon as the visitors had shot themselves off into the stratosphere, they immediately set off to pick up the pieces of their lives, though it would take years before they could completely recover from everything that they had had to suffer through.
But I do need you to keep my feet anchored to the ground...
The weight of it all did not hit Jun until after the war was over. When he was finally breathing normally enough, thinking clearly enough to look around him and see the degree of death and devastation with which the war had left his town. He creased his brows as hard as he could to keep his tears from flowing without much luck, pressed his fist to his lips to stop the screams from spilling out, only to end up whimpering like a little child who had just lost everything.
For a moment he felt nothing but hatred for the rebel army, for if they hadn’t gotten it into their heads to wage war against the conquerors, this would never have happened. What was the point of it all, really? If they could’ve co-existed together peacefully, never mind that they were denied much of the natural, industrial and technological resources that rightfully belonged to them, never mind that they had to bow down to rulers that did not even originate from the dregs and sweat of this world, never-fucking-mind everything else, would it not have been all right to just let things be?
What was the point of it all, seriously?
“We’re free,” he heard his savior mumble beside him. “We’re free and that matters. That’s the whole point. We’re just... free.”
Jun did not even realize that he had been lamenting his thoughts loud enough for the uniformed man to hear. He had almost forgotten he actually had a representative of the rebel army he hated so much close enough for him to pound his fist into until he was relieved of the searing anger buzzing through his skin.
But what kept him from doing so was the fact that the man was crying just like he was. The same trail of tears, the same expression of anger and regret in his eyes, as though he, too, was gradually, finally realizing just how much had been sacrificed, how much had been lost for the sake of winning this war.
Jun swept his gaze again at the expanse of the ruins that was once his town, his heart breaking anew at the sight of his own house charred beyond recognition, as it did over and over again at the memory of his mother dying right before his very eyes.
He would’ve seriously crumpled to his knees, if his sights hadn’t landed on a vision that completely and quite fiercely cut through the final layer of his self-indulgent mourning.
His feet were already moving long before he could figure out what he was doing, or what he was supposed to do once he reached the girl sobbing quietly on her dead mother’s chest.
But his own grief allowed him to act by mere instinct. He sat down on the ground, beside the girl, and began rubbing her back comfortingly as more tears fell from his own eyes. He was suddenly remembering Sho’s words about fighting for a better world for their children, their grandchildren, and he was once again having mixed feelings about it all.
On one hand, this girl would undoubtedly have a better life now that they were free, provided that she got over losing her mother first.
“Fuck you, Sho-kun,” he muttered under his breath, the lump of anguish in his throat almost choking him. “Fuck you, you stupid bastard. Fuck you...”
“Jun-nii!”
The girl’s little arms wrapping around his neck stunned him for a moment, even as her plaintive wails kept pounding painfully at his heart.
By the time he managed to move and wrap his own arms around her trembling frame, he had already decided to take responsibility for this girl for as long as he lived. Not because he felt like he had to, but because it suddenly felt like it was the right thing to do.
Jun didn’t know it yet right then, but being Seiran Kobayashi’s guardian would be one of the most fulfilling things that ever happened to his life.
So please stay safe, and don’t do anything stupid while I’m away...
Rebel army soldiers prowled the devastated town, offering assistance and comfort wherever it was needed.
Jun watched the languid movements all around him with sightless eyes, listened to the sounds of grief with an already numbed up heart, as he gently brushed his hand through Seiran’s hair. The girl had already fallen asleep on his lap, her tear-streaked face buried to his chest. He wished it was just as easy for him to shut everything out and nod off like that.
The uniformed man to whom he owed his second life was suddenly crouching down beside them, telling him in a quiet, strangely calming voice that he would take care of everything from here. That he, himself, would give the girl’s mother, as well as Jun’s mother proper burials at the cemetery, which, ironically enough, was the only part of town that was spared.
Jun didn’t even make an effort to protest, or to insist that he should be the one burying his own mother. He felt like he could trust this man with anything right now. Never mind that he was shorter than him, or that, as soon as he took off his drab-colored combat helmet, he looked more like a laidback fisherman who had just been yanked out of his boat in the middle of an afternoon nap than a war-beaten soldier.
“They’re putting up lodging tents on the other side of town,” the man added, his reassuring gaze making a part of Jun’s heart sigh pleasantly. “You should take the girl there and try to get some rest.”
“Thank you,” Jun said, sincerely grateful for more than just the new lease on his life.
The man’s rather aristocratic nose crinkled slightly as he let out a goofy-sounding snort, before his round face shortly contorted into a soft grin, genuine though a little restrained, and just one of many that would be gracing Jun’s life from now until many years later. “I owe Sho-chan my life, you know. It’s just fitting that I saved his beloved in return, right?”
The rush of emotions that burned through Jun’s nerves was hard to identify at first. Should it make him feel happy, relieved that he’s finally talking to someone who had been in contact with Sho, and who could tell him, once and for all, whether the guy was dead or not?
Or did he even want to know at this point?
“Is he...?” he began to ask, his head already throbbing from the weight of all the unshed tears he had been caching up for Sho.
“Yes,” the man replied, reading the rest of Jun’s question in his eyes. “He’s alive.”
For that brief moment nothing else mattered in the world other than the fact that Sho Sakurai, stupid bastard that he was to Jun’s eyes right now, was going to make good on his promises after all.
I promise to come home as soon as I can.
You’ll see.
You won’t even notice I’m gone...
You’ll see.
You won’t even notice I’m gone...
Satoshi Ohno, along with a couple dozens of his fellow soldiers, stayed back to help them rebuild their town.
At first the rebel army tried to persuade them to move into the safe confines of the walled city that the aliens had just vacated.
But Jun firmly kept his feet on the ground, and in the process persuaded the rest of his townspeople to do the same.
“This is where I promised to wait for Sho-kun,” he insisted. “This is where I’ll stay even if I have to be here on my own.”
Sho apparently had risen through the ranks to become an indispensable official in the Rebel Union. Even though he had fought tooth and nail to join the troop sent out to protect his town, to the point that his senior Junichi Okada had to lock him up to keep him from running away and getting himself mindlessly killed in battle, he failed miserably in his bid to come home for Jun, just when Jun needed him to be here.
“I understand,” he said, because Ohno looked like this bothered his mind more than it did his. “Sho-kun’s done so much more on a larger scale, right?” He bent down to pick up a blackened palette knife from the rubbles of his mother’s sweets shop.
“He did,” Ohno smiled fondly, not ashamed at all to show pride for a close friend’s success. He had volunteered to help Jun clean out the debris from the burned down shop, and Jun was only too happy to accept an extra pair of hands. “It’s his and Nino’s strategic planning that helped us gain ground and eventually win the war.”
Although he was still on the fence about everything that concerned the war, Jun felt his heart flutter proudly at this, like it was his own achievement to claim. “I always knew he’s bound for great things.”
“He couldn’t have done it if it weren’t for you,” Ohno said, looking at him as though he, too, should be applauded for just being himself, causing a slight flush to burn on Jun’s cheeks in the process. “He could seriously talk in length about you, you know? That’s why I knew where you lived, how you looked. Like I knew you for years even before I actually did. And I understand now how you can inspire him so much.”
Jun cleared his throat and carefully laid a shard of broken glass into the garbage bin beside him. “Don’t you have anywhere to go back to, Ohno-san?” He felt like a change of topic was in order.
Ohno sighed and added another shard of glass into the bin. “Not anymore.”
Jun stopped for a while to offer his companion an empathic glance. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Ohno shook his head, his smile never faltering for a second. “I might actually learn to like being here.”
Jun found himself snickering at that. Of course! He had noticed the way the man had been looking at the Mayor’s daughter, Becky, like he could actually consider living the rest of his life in this town.
And to think that Jun had almost proposed marriage to that ballsy and vibrant woman back when he dared Fate to try and change his mind about Sho, and Becky walked into the shop barely a minute later.
“If you can wait for my shop to get back in business, I’ll gladly make your wedding cake for free,” he said, somehow managing to sound both earnest and teasing.
An embarrassed chuckle rolled in Ohno’s throat as he threw a deformed fork into the bin. “I haven’t even talked to her yet, but I’ll take you up on that offer.”
And I’d like a piece of that chocolate you love making when I return.
I promise I’ll eat it then and give you a straight answer...
I promise I’ll eat it then and give you a straight answer...
It took five years for Sweet Tempest, the sweets shop that Jun now owned, to be rebuilt from the ashes and resume its curtailed operations.
The town itself took just as much time to regain a semblance of order and normalcy.
Masaki Aiba, one of the army soldiers who used to be a teacher before he got himself enlisted, willingly took on the responsibility of putting up and running an educational center for the children.
Seiran-chan had taken quite a shine to that amiable and naturally goofy man, who had provided both assistance and valuable advice to Jun in raising the girl he had now come to treat as his daughter.
Ohno finally did find the courage to strike up a conversation with Becky, and by some miracle the laidback man had actually convinced the spirited woman, five years later at Sweet Tempest’s opening day, to become his devoted wife.
Everything was going smoothly now at this point that Jun could not help but marvel at the resilience of the human spirit.
Memories of the war descending unbidden on their town will forever be etched in their minds, but they were not going to mope and sulk over it for the rest of their lives. The pain and grief would never go away, but instead of allowing themselves to be burdened by it, they chose to draw as much strength and inspiration from it as they could to keep moving forward with their lives. Just as they knew their departed loved ones would’ve wanted them to do.
Jun had also been getting more regular updates on what Sho Sakurai had been up to, first through the communication devices that Ohno and Aiba had, then later on through daily radio broadcasts after the Rebel Union had gradually figured out the workings of the wireless transmission equipment behind the walls.
He had not spoken to the man himself for years, and the letter he had written for Jun before he went away, and which was perpetually tucked safely in the pocket of Jun’s pants, remained as the most precious reminder of his equally valuable, but now virtually untouchable existence.
Or so, this was what Jun thought, until one unsuspecting day in summer when Sho Sakurai finally walked back into his life.
He was deeply absorbed in drafting out the design for Ohno and Becky’s wedding cake while occasionally popping truffle balls into his mouth.
Seiran-chan was not due home from Aiba’s center for another couple of hours, and it had always been pleasantly idle in his shop at this time of day so he had told his two assistants to take a half-hour break.
He was sitting on the outer side of the counter, his back turned to the door, his pencil lazily moving through the lines and curves of the cake design in his head being gradually translated on paper. There was a bowl of truffles to his left, a half-filled glass of water to his right, and nothing but peace and calmness in his heart.
He actually almost missed the tinkling of the bell at the door and didn’t even bother turning his head until he heard a jarringly familiar voice say, “Excuse me?”
He dropped the pencil in his surprise, the sound of it rolling on the counter and dropping with a ‘plink’ to the ground was magnified ten-folds in his ensuing numbness.
His heart had already beaten a hundred different ways before he actually managed to glance over his shoulder at the guy he had been waiting for for what seemed like an eternity.
And it wasn’t really the sight Jun had expected to see. This Sho Sakurai was dressed in a plain brown shirt, plain gray pants, and was reeking all over with his boringly plain fashion sense that reminded Jun of those days in the past when he used to pick on everything that Sho wore and did without fearing the consequences.
He was also clean-shaven, too, but Jun figured that was a given for a guy, a man who had been voted as one of the twelve Chief Executives of the New World Government.
“They told me I can find the best-tasting chocolates in here,” the older man said, his smile faltering into a disappointed frown when Jun did not respond. “This place doesn’t seem to have the warmest staff, though.”
Jun wordlessly turned his attention back to his draft, his whole body buzzing from the overwhelming blend of pleasant and not-too-pleasant emotions streaking through his nerves. He did not really know how to deal with this man right now. What was he even doing here at Jun’s shop, looking like he had just left a seat in the government empty?
Wait, DID HE...?!
His peripherals told him that Sho had already made his way to the counter and was now leaning an elbow on its surface, his gaze fixed firmly on Jun.
“Macchan...” he called out in a surprisingly small voice that gripped painfully at Jun’s heart.
“What are you doing here, Sho-kun?” Jun did not really mean to sound too angry, but he had never really been good at keeping his temper under control. This was not the way he had imagined things to be. He guessed, without even realizing it, he had already given up on the chance of ever seeing Sho again.
Sho let out a nervous chuckle. “This is... really... kind of... sort of... unexpected.”
Jun almost broke though his own defenses and laughed. Oh, how he had missed hearing Sho sputtering like that! Fifteen years did not really make this man all that much different from the boy that Jun remembered falling madly in love with all those years ago. “Are you staying, or are you just here to see if I’m still alive?”
Sho did not feel the need to respond to that begrudging question with mere words. Instead, Jun saw the man grab a truffle from the bowl moments before he found his face cupped steadfastly in a pair of warm hands, his lips caught in a kiss that started out light and uncertain, gradually gaining grit with each small twitch of Jun’s lips, and eventually taking full rein as soon as Jun opened himself up to it, surrendered himself fully to its chocolate-flavored invasion, their lips and tongues moving together to the mutual beats of their allied hearts.
Jun’s fingers gripped Sho’s wrists tightly, as though he was afraid the man would pull away and run off as soon as he let go. He felt Sho’s fingers slip into the thick tuft of his hair, gripping and pulling for a better angle, a deeper leverage for his desperate need to feel every hidden corner of Jun’s mouth.
The kiss lasted for only half a minute, but Jun felt like it had reaffirmed the entirety of his life, each gust of breath shared making their insides tremble with the implicit knowledge that they’re never going to part again.
Sho pulled away and pressed their foreheads together, his hands on Jun’s cheeks never letting up, Jun’s fingers tightening around Sho’s wrists in response.
“I’m home,” the older man sobbed, the heat and draft of his breath making Jun’s eyes flutter, the warmth of his tears merging with the lush trail already streaming down Jun’s face.
Jun reached out a hand to thumb a trace of melted chocolate from the corner of Sho’s lips. “Welcome back,” he whispered before bridging the waning distance between them with another kiss.
I love you, Macchan.
I guess you already know that by now...
#####
I guess you already know that by now...
#####
***Because I’ve been LSS-ing|on|these|songs for a totally different reason. xp
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-02-13 08:59 pm (UTC)Thank you for sharing such story..
Kitten=3
no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-14 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-14 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-14 06:30 am (UTC)<3
15 years? XD
no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 02:30 am (UTC)I am really glad you liked it. Thank you very much for reading and for sharing your thoughts~! ♥
no subject
Date: 2014-02-15 05:04 am (UTC)It's so heartbreaking you know.. XDD
thank's for sharing.. <3 <3
no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 02:31 am (UTC)I am really glad you liked it. Thank you very much for reading and for sharing your thoughts~! ♥
no subject
Date: 2014-02-17 09:28 am (UTC)I really <3 the ending part. :D Ahehe!
Thank you! Thank you sooo muuccccccccccch! =)
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3
no subject
Date: 2014-03-05 02:31 am (UTC)Thank you very much for reading and for sharing your thoughts~! ♥
no subject
Date: 2014-03-23 09:34 am (UTC)I so love it <333
thank you, rin-chan :)
no subject
Date: 2014-06-03 02:45 am (UTC)Thank you very much~!
And I super love your Sakumoto icon! <333