darkilk | [Sakumoto Fic]: Thunderstorms and Tempest Cloud 6.1: Muddied Waters (Reply)

Pairing: Sakumoto, other members “guest star” cos I can’t bear to leave anyone out

Rating: G

Word Count: 5,061 words

Genre: Warning of Major angst

Disclaimer: Purely a figment of my imagination; the fic, that is. Not them, of course. :)

Summary: Jun and Sho are ready to resolve the misunderstanding, but fate has other plans in mind.

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Nino punched in a series of numbers as he made his way out of the building, waiting for quite a few rings before the line connected. “Sho-chan. Where are you?”

“I’ve left already. Due for my next filming in about an hour’s time.”

“You sound… almost cheerful,” his voice was laced with suspicion. “Are we giving you too little work?”

The laughter that resounded was almost foreign, its absence noted acutely in recent days. “All’s well.”

“And by ‘all’, you mean…” Nino still recalled, with some merriment, the sickeningly saccharine male he’d left behind in the green room just some minutes ago.

“Everything’s good.”

“Is THAT how you want to be?” The hurt in his voice was almost chiding, but there was also a trace of mockery behind it. However, the smile waned a little when Sho failed to respond, caught up in a fit of almost-violent sneezes. Nino stopped in his tracks, holding the handset away from himself, as if the cold was contagious over the phone.

As the severity of the attack tapered off, Nino was only too ready to voice his disapproval. “Is the hay fever getting worse? Can’t Manager-san get a postponement on your filming?”

“No need to inconvenience everyone,” Sho’s words were interspersed with more sniffles he tried to get under control, “I’ll just finish this off and head home for some rest.”

“You sure? You really don’t sound too good,” Nino’s voice losing its usual sardonic bite.

“You offering to cover my load?”

“You know how much we need you Sho-chan,” Nino wryly admitted. “Without fail!Sho, it’d get boring if my superior aptitude was always glorified against Aiba,” he bit back a grin here. “The audience only appreciates so much Aimiya interaction, you know.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Seriously, you should take something for that before your filming.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Well, someone needs to.”

The barely audible ‘Ma-chan already did’ shed enough light that Nino could not help the smile that took up residence on his face. “Hai? I didn’t quite catch that?”

A little cough before Sho simply said, “Jun passed me something for it already.”

“And it hasn’t taken effect yet?”

“Well… kind of hard for it to do so… considering I haven’t taken it yet,” Sho sounded almost sheepish at the admission.

“Sho-chan...” The teasing note disappeared as real concern coloured Nino’s words.

“Right, ok. Just… let me look for it in my… argh… bag. Hang on,” Nino heard a gentle click in the background and the sounds of shuffling. “Ah… It’s in the backseat. Just let me ge-”

The sudden disconnection and resulting dial tone forced a crease in Nino’s forehead. Hitting the re-dial button did not bring Sho back on the line despite several tries. When similar attempts to reach Sho’s manager Takamura-san also brought no fruition, Nino could not dispel a growing sense of unease.

Making a sharp U-turn, he forced himself in the direction that would bring him to the band member whom he hoped had not yet left the building.

His footsteps picked up pace, along with the hammering within his chest.

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Jun heard the words that exited Nino’s mouth, but he didn’t believe things could be such a coincidence. Couldn’t believe it. Not when he was finally working things out with Sho. Things couldn’t be that twisted. “You’re just paranoid Nino. I JUST spoke to him.”

“No. You’re not listening. I was just on the line with him when the line got cut. For no good reason.”

“Maybe they went into a tunnel.”

As the silence dragged out, heated stares clashed across the green room. A stalemate of simmering anger against adamant denial, frustration at each other’s obstinacy threatening to bring out the worst in fraying tempers.

When Nino’s handphone came to life, both idols recoiled in shock. Nino seemed almost fearful to take the call, but the sickening-pale expression that finally crossed his face only confirmed Jun’s worst fears that something was wrong with Sho.

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Get out. Get to the car. Get to the hospital.

Jun just needed to concentrate on moving. To get to where he could get answers. He didn’t want to hazard any guesses on how bad things could get… if they were even that bad in the first place. No. No more groundless assumptions.

It took the sight of Sho lying quiet on the bed to practically freeze the beating in his chest. It didn’t matter that Nino failed to stop in time and crashed awkwardly into his back; it didn’t matter when Aiba approached from beside Sho to reach out and offer a hug; it didn’t matter that Ohno was a quiet observer to the side, offering neither comfort nor signs of his own emotions.

“Sho.” The name came not from Jun’s lips, but from a pale, dazed-looking Nino when he finally peeked around Jun to set eyes on the man lying on the stark white sheets.

This cannot not be Sho, Jun thought. Sho was all bright eyes that laughed wholeheartedly at the members’ antics, not hidden behind closed, too-still lids. Sho was white teeth and wide grins, quivering lips in embarrassed smiles at his own failed attempts at humour, not… this. This Sho seemed too fragile to be touched, left arm and chest completed wrapped in bandages, hooked up to all manners of too-loud, beeping machines. While his head was free of the white cloth, garishly purplish bruises marring the left side of his face only added to the sallow shadows beneath his shuttered eyes. All these only served to accent his already rest-deprived body of the vitality he’d come to associate with the man.

With a stuttered breath, Jun was already reaching a badly shaking hand out to touch Sho, to make sure the man was still solid before it hovered in hesitation. The quiet tone of Sho’s manager from the other side of the room was a painful reminder that here was where he would get the answers he needed.

Jun made his way over to the couch where Sho’s parents and Ohno were already seated with Tamakura-san (left arm heavily bandaged with some scratches on his chin, but otherwise unharmed). His heart sank upon hearing how Tamakura-san had had to slam on the brakes to avoid a car that mistakenly turned into their lane. That he’d only sustained minor injuries as he still had his seatbelt on. That Sho had suffered more severe injuries when he apparently unbuckled his seatbelt to retrieve cold medicine from his bag placed in the backseat.

Medicine that Jun had given him.

The rest of the conversation faded into the background as the fingers Jun had wrapped around his forearms began to dig crescent shapes into the flesh. He almost jolted in surprise when he felt a warm palm pat lightly but reassuringly on his back. Turning with a muffled half-choke lodged in his throat, Jun looked into the quietly worried eyes of the oldest member beside him.

He’s worried about me, Jun thought as he fought to squelch the bubbling note of hysteria. Even when it’s Sho who’s injured.

It registered somewhere in his logic that Ohno was probably out of his own comfort zone, trying to do his best in Sho’s stead under the given circumstances. It helped remind Jun that they needed to make Sho the focus of their attention, and this kept his self-recriminating guilt at bay… somewhat. Swallowing past the stomaching-churning knot, Jun concentrated on the rest of what Tamakura-san was saying.

“It didn’t really help though, that reporters started to turn up before the ambulance arrived.”

“And management? What’s their take on this?” Ohno’s composed words were unexpected, considering how little he usually said. Then again, Sho was usually the one to take the lead… Jun forcibly willed his mind to not to linger on what would likely send him on another downward spiral.

“It really depends on how Sakurai-san… progresses.” Tamakura-san’s tentative words only signalled how uncertain he was.

“And that’s something that we have to wait and see.” The newly-arrived, authoritative voice offering the opinion made the heads of all swivel around to see the white-coated figure leaning over Sho. As the doctor did some checks on Sho’s vital signs, all moved closer to the bed.

“How bad is it?” Jun asked falteringly, wanting to know yet wishing to hold back hearing the words that could drop him off a precipice. “I mean, his head doesn’t seem to be… badly injured. That’s a good sign right?”

“That may well be the case, but seeing how he hasn’t regained consciousness since the accident, (Jun’s heart went out to Mrs. Sakurai as she barely stifled a muffled sob here) we will have to monitor and see if he awakes within the next 48 hours. Then we’ll have to watch for any signs of confusion, headaches, nausea or vomiting, blurred vision. We have to be prepared for all possibilities.”

Jun knew that the doctor’s prognosis had been meant to be objective and informative, but to see the pained expressions on each of his bandmates’ faces as the implications sunk in did not encourage stability in his own turmoil.

“Sho-chan’s strong,” the brave front Aiba put up brought a bitter smile to Jun’s lips. “He’ll bounce back. Just like when he broke his thumb.”

No one else seemed willing to point out the marked difference in the two situations in question. In the silence that followed, Aiba pressed on even as his voice seemed to be wavering a little. “We’re known for performing miracles afterall.”

“That’s right. How else to explain the ever-continuing resilience of our Aibaka?” Nino said with a half-smile and gentle whack to the man who had seated himself on one of the chairs in front of him.

Aiba’s semi-woeful protest at being hit brought a weak smile to Mrs Sakurai’s mien, but only forced Jun to turn away as the suddenly irrational fear crested in his mind. What if Sho never gets a chance to see Nino poke fun at Aiba again?

“Sorry. Need a trip to the gents,” was Jun’s attempt to escape the room even as he felt his neutral expression give way to a tightness in his cheeks, the growing lump in his throat threatening to choke – or was it release? – the scream he felt building up inside of him.

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Click here for Cloud 6.2.