Into your heart   von chicchai
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                                  Kapitel 2: 
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“So,  Ninomiya-san,” the interviewer asks after a long day of photo-shoots
and a lot  of questions, trying to wrap the interview up, “Now, to round this
off, we  could talk a little bit about Arashi. Our readers are great fans of
Arashi, and  excited for any news you could reveal. How would you describe the
atmosphere in  Arashi, among the members? What would you say has changed through
all the years  of being together, and what is still the same? Do you like how
things are  going?”
The  main thing Nino doesn’t like right at this very moment is the fact that
his entire  body is craving nicotine; his manager had made the whole
interview-photo-shoot  appointment sound like it would barely take a couple of
hours, but it is 5PM by  now and Nino feels tired. Both emotionally and
physically, and he really needs  a cigarette. His brain works more slowly than
usual today, but what with that  awful morning he has had, it is not really
surprising.
“The  atmosphere amongst the members is great,” Nino states, though, with a
little  smile. His manager looks down to him worriedly; Iwata has known him for
years  already and it is no surprise he notices that something is off
immediately. “We  are getting along as well as we always have. The other
members are like family  to me. However,” Nino makes a long pause, inwardly
preparing for what he is  going to say next. When he had agreed on the interview
earlier, this moment had been the sole reason for  it, and Nino knows he has to
word it correctly.
“We’ve  come a long, long way until now,” he starts off, pretending like
he has a hard  time finding the right words for it to buy himself more time,
“We are existing  for eight years by now, after all. We’ve started off as
kids—I was sixteen, and  the oldest one, Ohno-kun, he was eighteen. By now,
though, all of us have grown  up. We’re adults; we’ve grown out of being
those playful highschool boys,  clinging to each other all the time and hugging
each other like brothers. I  think that’s the main thing that has changed.
While we are still as close as  ever emotionally, we just treat each other like
adults now and don’t cling to  each other like helpless puppies anymore.”
Nino laughs when he compares them to  puppies, cocking his head back a little,
wrinkles showing around his eyes. “It  has taken a long time, but I think I
can finally say that we’re all adults now.  And it feels good.”
The  man across the table is nodding at every word Nino says and the camera next
to  him is filming the whole time. Nino feels his heart beating hard and fast 
against his ribcage, and his palms turn a little sweaty. His manager has maybe 
not realized yet what exactly Nino is trying to accomplish with such 
statements, but soon enough he will.
“So  you’ve grown up, you say,” the interviewer repeats with a smile, and
Nino nods  enthusiastically. It hurts, it really does—but he doesn’t have a
choice. He  just doesn’t. This morning had been the final proof of how
urgently things need  to change, and in order to avoid talking to Ohno (or
anyone from Arashi,  really) directly about it, he has to trick them all. “And
you don’t hug so much  anymore?” the man continues, sounding a bit bemused.
Nino  nods. The lump in his throat is throbbing heavily, and he doesn’t know
when it  even formed there.
“Yeah,”  he agrees, “Ohno-kun and me, for example. We used to cling to
each other all  the time. We’ve always seen each other like brothers, and
that’s why we hung  out so much together. Nowadays, however, we aren’t as
touchy anymore and don’t  spend that much time with each other anymore,
either. I think, though, that’s  just natural during the process of growing
up, right?”
When  his manager widens his eyes, Nino knows the information was delivered 
correctly.
 
*
 
Nino  is inhaling the much-needed nicotine of the cigarette between his
trembling  fingers in fast and short breaths, his body only slowly coming down
from how  much he has put himself through today. Ohno is gone; he feels
it—Ohno is gone,  the night is gone, the warmth of Satoshi’s body is gone,
and it won’t come  back. Their affair is over, and their friendship will be
over in no time as  well.
Nino  had initiated it earlier after all, and the interview is just the
beginning.
“Why  did you say such things, Ninomiya-kun?” Iwata asks. They are on the
emergency  staircase of the building of the magazine company; Nino is leaning
over the  railing, blowing the white smoke of the cigarette up into the sky.
Iwata is  standing behind him, leaning against the wall next to the emergency
door, his  arms crossed in front of his chest. Nino can almost feel the older
man staring  holes into his back, but he doesn’t really care.
“’Such  things’?” he asks back, playing dumb, and takes another pull on
his cigarette.  Inwardly, his body is throwing a tantrum, and Nino isn’t sure
if he might not  have collapsed already if not for the cigarette between his
fingers, keeping  his emotions barely at bay.
“About  hugging, about closeness,” his manager elaborates, sounding annoyed.
He knows  that Nino knows, and playing dumb doesn’t get either of them
anywhere. “You had  no right to make such statements! The agency will get back
at you, or, well, at me once they see the article, and they will most likely
stop the  magazine from printing any more copies after the first circulation is
out.”  Iwata sounds truly angry and like he has to compose himself a
lot—which is no  surprise, Nino knows. Usually he is easy to work with, but he
does have some personal issues here and  there, and when it is about them, he is
a very difficult person to deal with.
“I  said nothing but the truth,” Nino monotonously responds, though, and
flips the  cigarette stump down into the streets, wondering how high they are
here right  now. Must be fifty metres, at least. “And I didn’t say we
weren’t close  anymore,” Nino continues, now turning around to his manager
and looking at him  with a determined expression in his clear eyes. “I simply
said Ohno-kun and me  are not touchy anymore because we’ve grown up. And
that’s exactly how it is,  and how it will be: Ohno and me will stop
continuing this ridiculous fanservice  all the time when the cameras are
rolling—we will stop acting as if we were  married, or a couple at the very
least. I’m fed up with it, and that’s why it  will stop from this very
second onwards. I delivered you a believable interview  to base all of this on.
If you aren’t pleased with the outcome… well, that’s not  my problem.”
Nino  knows it actually is his problem and  by the way his manager is giving him
a cold and barely restrained, angry look,  Iwata is just about to state the very
same. But Nino simply doesn’t care. He can only take so much  before breaking
completely, and he is sure that if Iwata just knew the whole story, he would be
grateful for  Nino to act this wisely instead of simply leaving Arashi—leaving
Ohno for good.
Thus,  before Iwata can even open his mouth and hiss back an angry answer, Nino
waves  him off and passes him to open the door back in. “Today is my day
off,” he  underlines slowly, “Isn’t it enough that I already came to your
appointment on  my day off and spent more than half  of the day here? If you
excuse me now, I have urgent personal matters to attend. Call me in case my
schedule for  next week changes unexpectedly.” 
And  with that, Nino leaves, ignoring how Iwata’s jaw clenches visibly in
anger.
 
*
 
Jun  would probably explode and insist they talk it out (and forget all of this
has  ever happened), and Sho would worry more than is good for his own health
and  annoy the fuck out of Nino—and in the end he would be suffering even more
than  Nino himself is, because Sho is just that kind of person who takes every
single  band matter to heart and wants everyone to be happy.
Aiba  is a different kind of person, though. On first glance, he is cheerful, 
playful, childish and way too energetic for a normal person to endure for more 
than half an hour at once, but he has a very special place in Nino’s heart. He
 is one of the people he has known for almost his entire life, and maybe it is a
 unique bond only Aiba and Nino share, but he knows that no matter what, Aiba 
would never let him down. He wouldn’t judge him either, and he would certainly
 leave a topic alone if he realizes it is for the best.
And  contrary to what people think, Aiba Masaki is clever and witty, too, and he
knows  exactly how to behave in what kind of situation.
It  is no surprise that Nino writes an SMS to him out of all of Arashi the
second  he has reached his car, and barely half an hour later they meet up in
the  corner of a private restaurant, high up and hidden in one of Tokyo’s
countless  skyscrapers.
Aiba  looks awfully worried when he sits down at the table in a corner of the 
restaurant, and Nino only speaks once the waitress has brought them both a 
glass of water.
“It’s  nothing bad,” Nino tries to calm the taller man down before the
conversation  has even started, and he ignores the fact that he must look pretty
desperate  like this, literally clinging to the cigarette between his fingers as
if for  dear life. “Or,” he corrects, “no worse than the usual,
anyway.”
Aiba  sighs quietly and nips on his glass of water. “Leader?” he asks, not
really  expecting any kind of explanation.
Nino  only chuckles and closes his eyes for a moment while inhaling the
nicotine. It  is ridiculous how addicted he has become to cigarettes all over
these years,  but if there has ever been one time  of his life where quitting
smoking is certainly not an option, it is now.
“Yeah,”  he says, calmly, breathing out the smoke. It is funny because Aiba
and Nino  have never talked about his crush on Ohno that had slowly developed
into a  full-fledged, blossoming, deep love over the years. But Aiba
knows—Nino knows that Aiba knows—and still, as  intrusive and pushy as Aiba
often seems, the taller man knows very well when to  keep things to himself.
Nino  swallows, and he knows Aiba won’t ask any further. Aiba doesn’t expect
 explanations; perhaps he simply thinks that Nino needs some friendly and 
distracting company. 
Only  not—not this time. This time, Nino feels like even Aiba’s energetic
spirit  cannot help pull him out of his deep, deep hole anymore.
“I  need help,” Nino finally admits and looks up to Aiba who is silently
watching  him. 
Aiba  nods without hesitation. “What is it?” he asks.
“I  want you to take care of Oh-chan from now on,” Nino explains further,
and now  he doesn’t quite manage to meet the intensive look in Aiba’s eyes
anymore.  “Because I can’t anymore. I’ll stop.  With—with everything,
actually. I gave an interview earlier and basically said  the fanservice will
stop, too. I just—“ Nino breaks off then and shrugs  helplessly, his facial
expression faltering, his lips trembling, his fingers  squeezing around the
cigarette in his left hand. He feels how his emotions are  just about to boil up
within him—but this is the wrong place and the wrong  company for it. Nino
doesn’t lose his face in public; in fact he doesn’t lose  his face in front
of anyone. Not even in front of Aiba.
“I  just need a break,” Nino finally settles on ending his sentence in a
whisper and  swallows, trying to get his trembling under control. “Could
you—could you just  distract him for a while? So he won’t notice the lack of
my presence around  him. And once he notices, later, he probably won’t even
mind anymore.”
Aiba  is just staring at him, but he doesn’t even look shocked. His eyes
mirror  sadness and empathy, and some part of Nino wants to believe that Aiba
can  imagine exactly what is going on within his soul.
Aiba  opens his mouth then, searching for words, closes it again—and then he
simply  nods, obviously not even knowing what to say.
“Are  you sure?” he asks, though, while Nino is taking pull after pull on
his  cigarette. “Have you—I mean—talked at  least?”
Nino  gives Aiba a look at that says are you  stupid? What do you think of me?,
and then shakes his head. “We haven’t,  and we won’t. Now, can you do me
this favour or not?”
Aiba  seems to ponder for a moment, but then he nods hesitantly, sighing, and
Nino  realizes just how tensed up his body had been up until now as he suddenly,
 instinctively, slumps down into himself in relief. His heart is, again, beating
 hard against his ribcage from nervousness.
“Thank  you, Masaki,” he honestly and truthfully mumbles. “This means the
world to me,  you have no idea.”

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