Author's note: This one-shot is not related to the 'Whither my love' series. It is not meant to be taken seriously at all.


That which lies behind the Door


Sakurai Sho was closely examining the decorative motif carved into the door before him. It would be more accurate to say, however, that he was scrutinising a small void in the decorative motif. Why should not he marvel at it? A particularly intricate coil of carved vines and floral creepers, no bigger than the size of a small coin, had come loose from the door, and was now lying on the woodgrain floor at his feet.

He was studying something with such intensity that he neither blinked nor took stock of his surroundings. So engrossed was he in his study that he did not notice a figure drawing up to him.

“Sho-chan!” Aiba Masaki cried out, extending a cheerful wave from his long arm as he approached. “I’ve been looking for you! Can I eat your Calibee prawn crackers? What are you doing? Can’t remember where you put your newspapers? Are you still trying to find if they have the Nihon Keizai Shimbun here?”

“As a matter of fact,” Sho said thoughtfully, as he straightened up, put an arm around his friend’s shoulders and walked in step with him. “I was looking for a copy of that. It’s astonishing how one can theoretically follow the performance, structure, and behaviour of any given economy with a regression model and the GINI index, but one never really manages to successfully grasp the concept until one sees it in practice or in the flesh, so to speak. It demonstrates the ultimate difference between theory and practice, as well as the gap between praxis and phronesis…”

Aiba nodded, and smiled a longsuffering smile at his friend’s rambles on economic theory.

“You can have the prawn crackers,” Sho added, “I must speak to the owners of this place for its lack of decent newspapers.”

The two men parted company at the next intersection, whereupon something dawned upon Aiba. It was rather startling that someone with Aiba's hyperactive nature should pause in his steps. He paused because he was in the process of contemplating what he should do next. Something Sho mentioned had stuck in his head and it served to provide him with the impetus to make up his mind. Thus resolved, Aiba retraced his steps to the place by the corridor where he had encountered Sho and peered through the fissure in the door.

Unbeknownst to Aiba, one his closest friends, Yokoyama You was at that moment striding briskly along the corridor, yukata rustling slightly as he walked. Well, well, there was Aiba from Arashi staring at a door with a rather disbelieving look with his jaw dropped in an un-idol like manner, and an un-idol hand in a packet of potato crisps. Indeed, if the upper management of the Jimusho were wandering about, they would inform you that Aiba, as he appeared before the door, was a picture of laxness and incompetence and sheer laziness. Yokoyama approached, mentally forming several pithy remarks as a form of teasing criticism on his long-time friend.

As if warned by some protective instinct natural to those of the hyperactive and inevitably troublemaking persuasion, Aiba turned his head towards Yokoyama in a friendly smile as he approached. The Kanjani8 member raised an eyebrow at the unvoiced greeting and made a vague sound of salutation. His rationale was that if he allowed Aiba to speak, he would perhaps, as was wont to happen only too frequently, confess to an embarrassing peccadillo that would render it easier for him to be the butt of jokes at the formal dinner later.

Aiba beamed unabashedly. “Yoko-chan! Good morning!”

“It’s afternoon,” pointed out Yokoyama blandly.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Aiba continued to smile so broadly that it was obvious to his interloper that he was not dampened by his sudden loss of time-telling ability.

“You’re cheerful today, Kappe.” Yokoyama began, believing that Aiba’s happy appearance must have had its roots in something very naughty. And if it was naughty, Yokoyama was eager to find out what it was.

“Very!” Aiba twittered in a giggle. “I’ve just been thinking about how white, you know, boiled chicken is, and how delicious it looks when covered in gravy or even soy sauce. The thought makes me happy, excited and ready for the next challenge.”

“Go get something to eat, man! You’re not making any particle of sense.” Yokoyama shook his head at his inability to extract anything useful or embarrassing from Aiba. He remained where he was for the briefest moment, and while watching Aiba skip down the corridor, he wondered yet again what was going on.

As no one was in the vicinity, he deftly stepped forward to investigate that which had so captivated Aiba’s attention.

While Yokoyama You was engaged at peering into the spot that Aiba had lately vacated, Ninomiya Kazunari shuffled down the corridor in the manner favoured and patented by the game otaku. That is to say, he was ambling in a slight slouch, his eyes framed by black plastic rimmed glasses, his face hidden behind the screen of the Nintendo DS presently in his hands, and an un-idol like cigarette drooping at the corner of his mouth.

However, as he approached this particular corridor, Nino looked up with the blandest of interest. To his game addled mind (that had been engaged in the latest game for the past six hours and counting), it was entirely reasonable that his esteemed colleague within the Jimusho should be standing in the corridor which he had just turned into. The thought that the non-Arashi member should not be obstructing the passageway had dimly crossed his mind, but his game was far more important than wasting time with the trifling matter of Yokoyama’s presence along the corridor. However, Nino was acutely aware that it was somewhat irregular for Yokoyama to be thoughtfully staring at a door halfway down that corridor with glasses misted with steam, and his skin tinged with a hint of pink.

Nino coughed, just to see how the man would react.

Yokoyama did not disappoint. He turned towards Nino, moving with a child’s grace as it fell stumbling from the swing. He caught himself before he could fall, and gave Nino the partial bow that his current, more exalted standing in the Jimusho deserved.

Nino curled his lips into a speculative smirk, and cocked his head, waiting to see if Yokoyama would do anything interesting. Other than the DS game, the afternoon had been tediously humdrum so far.

Yokoyama blinked once and then once more when he said in the manner worthy of a poet:
“Quiet afternoons
Doth conceal the blooming
Of ivory blossoms.”

He then paused, bowed, and left.

Unaware that the Jimusho had such a poetic talent in its midst, Nino was mildly surprised. He made a mental note that he needed to catch unsuspecting lurkers in isolated corridors more often, if it yielded such interesting reactions. Nino then paused his game, and walked over to see what his colleague had been examining.

Meanwhile, Ohno Satoshi was at that moment stalking gloomily down the corridors of the onsen, towel around his neck somehow billowing behind him. As he ignored the murmurs of the Juniors’ that he passed, he idly wondered what kind of a place this onsen was if there was nothing that provided with him with artistic inspiration. How could an onsen be said to soothe its guests and cater to their needs if there was nothing that was worthy enough for him to expand his artistic vision upon? It was so depressing, and rather disheartening.

Turning into a corner, he nearly walked over a slender figure peering at the carving on a door. He executed a flawlessly elegant two-step dodge, and was prepared to accept the near-victim’s apologies with casual indolence, when he abruptly realised whom he had nearly walked into and nearly stumbled over. Reacting from pure instinct, his brain cautioned him to retreat slowly. He did not want Ninomiya Kazunari to be interested in him that afternoon. He really, really did not want Nino to be interested in him that day. It was too soon for him, even if it was titillating and enjoyable. All of Arashi, nay, all of Johnny's Entertainment knew what happened to Ohno Satoshi when Ninomiya Kazunari was interested in him. In fact, Ohno was still sore from his exertions last night when Nino was extremely interested in him, and his curves and crevices.

As he was frantically wondering whether to try walking backwards around the corner again and pretend that he had never been there in the first place, the younger man turned, curled his lips into a knowing self-satisfied smirk, and fixed him with a look. Steam had misted Nino’s glasses, and the smoke curled from the cigarette that dangled, forgotten, from the corner of his mouth, presented a most disarming picture to the highly vulnerable Ohno.

Oblivious to the inner turmoil of Arashi’s titular leader, Nino put a finger to his lips and beckoned him by crooking a finger.

Ohno swallowed hard, lit his own cigarette, and followed the directing finger over to the gap in the door. What he saw gave him reason to pause, and it certainly gave enough reason to observe with more than casual interest. Now, here was the inspiration he had been searching for all day.

Satisfied that he had been of assistance, Nino walked away with a catlike smirk, sparing a moment to pat Ohno’s well-formed posterior en route.

A few moments later, Aiba and Sho found Ohno skipping down a corridor. They needed him to taste-test something that the chef had brought in. As it was greyish-green and moving somewhat, their manly courage failed them, effectively culminating in their decision to find a brave soul to determine whether the pulsating new dish was indeed edible. However, finding Ohno was no easy task. For one, there wasn’t the usual trail of fascinated members from the junior bands following him about. Under these circumstances, it had taken them some searching before they found him.

Oddly enough, Ohno was radiating pure joy when they came upon him. This was a remarkable turn of events, given that he had been complaining in sighs that there was nothing worthy of catching his artistic eye since their arrival at the onsen.

“It’s amazing how everyday things can be so simple and yet beautiful,” he began, smile still on his face, as they fell into step beside him. “You know, like how one can turn down a corner, and find something pure as rain, smooth as silk, white as lilies. Isn’t it wonderful to appreciate that kind of natural loveliness? Isn’t it wonderful that its innocent sensuality is able to lift up one’s heart?”

”He’s cracked,” Aiba whispered in an aside to Sho, further illustrating his point by rolling his eyes and making a highly informative gesture involving his forefinger drawing circles in the air above his temple.

“Perhaps he has been deprived of wacky food for too long. It’s made him ga-ga,” Sho readily agreed. “A taste of that strange greyish-green fish dish we have in our room is just what he needs.”

As he was not paying attention to this exchange skilfully occurring behind his back, Ohno whistled cheerfully as he strolled along, accompanying Sho and Aiba to their room.

Not long after that illuminating exchange, Matsumoto Jun emerged from the bathroom, tugging at his hair fretfully. It was dreadfully inconvenient for him that the stupid KAT-TUN buffoons had to wreck the bath in his room. He had a good mind to file a complaint with the Jimusho for organising a company retreat where drunken junior groups went around breaking bathtubs in other people’s rooms on drunken bets. Who would have thought that plumbing could be destroyed so completely? A part of Jun’s mind was amazed by the feat, though he would never admit it.

Well, he, MatsuJun, was not going to go without a daily bath. It would be disgusting, dirty, impure, unsanitary, and make him worse than Aiba, who did not know how to pick up after himself, and whom (Jun privately reflected) enjoyed rolling in his own filth. There was nothing like a nice hot bath. It was cleansing, relaxing, and invigorating. However, he had decided that it would be bad form to let KAT-TUN’s latest act of drunken antics be publicly known. Blackmail was much easier to execute when the matter was only known to the potential victims and the blackmailer. It was with that thought in mind that he quietly made his way to one of the private baths in the general quarters. Well, the main reason was – of course, everyone had their own private baths in their rooms and he was least likely to run into anyone knew out there.

At least, he thought he wasn't likely to run into anyone he knew out there.


~~~~~ Finis ~~~~~

LOOOOOOOOLLL
THAT WAS PURE GOLD.
I was wondering what MatsuJun's reaction was going to be and then came the end...it makes sense that he would be their source of inspiration.
XDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
Once again, a fanfic full of awesomeness. Sasuga Okashii-sama! XDDDDD

(P.S. Hentai Aiba is chooo kawaii. XDD)

*snort* Lol, looks like Jun's gotten himself into a mess!! Ha!

Great job!!

you are on a roll honey!

It takes me ages to write crack. I tend to go with introspection and character development. However, the editing process takes up a lot from me (considering that I already do it for a living).

Well, well, a one-shot accomplished, two fics completed, one being edited and shortly to be released, one being rewritten, and another being conceptualised...

Still, I am very glad to have drawn a smile.

do you plan to ever publish your stuff? i think you have great potential lol i wouldn't be surprised if you already have stuff out there

Your writing totally amazes me. I especially like the Ohno segment. XD I really liked this one-shot... but the end kind of confused me. *goes backs to read again* Thank you for writing.

I still adore you for writing this.

it's so funny and I can't believe you thought it up. <3

I wish I had birthdays more often, lol.



(bows)

Your birthday one was more suggestive than this, I think...

hai, but still.

both combined, made for a nice time. -nods-

sweeeet.
it was jun all along! lol. i was kinda wondering where he was all this time... so thoughtful of nino-chan to share jun-kun with riida

Dear Shoko of AraShe,

I know this is meant to be crack but unfortuanately due to your heavy use of language, i didn't even manage to giggle. it pains me that my English is not quite up to your standards to understand this story. Basically, from what i understand is the people that is sho, aiba, ohno etc saw kattun breaking jun;s bathtub. am i right? sorry to disappoint you.

fare thee well

cheers,
jl2020

The language for this is considered mild and straightforward by my standards. I did tell you that I do talk like Sho on a daily basis, and I do suffer daily when people do not understand my words in whatever language I choose to utilise. In my Victorian novel (only in private circulation), the language is true to the period and far more obscure than this, and the humour is drier and much darker.

Now, the premise for this story is that JE is on a company retreat at an onsen. In this onsen, each person has his own room; and each room has its own bathroom. However, Jun had to use the public bath because KATTUN broke his tub. Subsequently, each member and one kanjani member espies (read: peep at) Jun bathing in the public bath - general mayhem ensues as they wax lyrical on what they see.

Unaware of what was going on outside, Jun closes the story by bitching about what led him to use the public bath in the first place (cf. the premise of the story as stated above).