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Who: Oshitari Yuushi and Oshitari Yuna
What: A not so chance encounter. STD test gone wrong and Yuushi sort of accidentally fakes his own death. The kindness of strangers.
Rating: PG-13 kinda disturbing in some spots. Plots get ridiculous when I'm bored at work. Read at your own risk.
Oshitari waited patiently in the clinic waiting room. The office was a small, professional health facility that would easily take cash for STD testing. He made the payment on his previous visit, and was now here to pick up the results.
Normally, the results didn't require picking up. Just a phone call notifying of a clean bill of health. He drummed his fingers nervously against his thigh. Given his track record, he could've easily picked up something.
I should've gotten tested the minute I got back from Mexico... he chided himself. Though he was in habit of safe sex, nothing was foolproof.
"Tanaka-san," a nurse approached him. Oshitari noticed her nipples pressing against her scrubs, then managed to get his eyes back up to her face. Thank you air conditioning. "Please come this way," she smiled at him, and he was happy to follow her into one of the patient rooms. His gaze continued to be on her until they reached the room and she bid farewell, locking the door behind her.
Locking the door behind her?
"Tanaka Junichirou," a flat, deep woman's voice said. A shiver went down Oshitari's spine. He knew that voice.
"Yuna," Oshitari didn't even pretend to smile as he turned around. His sister was as tall as he remembered. Taller than him, plus heels gave her a good few inches on him. Seconds later he was shoved into the wall and manicured fingers took a vice grip around his throat. He decided against calling her amazon woman. "You haven't aged a day," he choked out. She squeezed down tighter. Her eyes, midnight blue like his own, glared back at him narrow and sharp, like the point of a dagger. Yuna's glasses were real.
"It figures that I'd find you because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants," she sneered. "You really think we wouldn't be able to track down your writing? I thought those hippy drippy romance novels might be yours. Thanks so much for providing the DNA to prove it."
I'm so glad you read my work, he wanted to bite back, but her grip barely allowed him to breathe, let alone speak. Not a single movement was made to defend himself, but Yuushi's glared back at his older sister with defiance. Yuna saw it as the same defiance present to her when Yuushi was four and she was eight and she put his hair in pigtails for the first time. This was bigger than pig tails. Maybe not bigger than the frilly dresses, Yuushi thought, I might have been more upset about that.
"Why did you leave?" she demanded in a voice that was dangerously quiet.
More staring, and a choked gasp for air.
"I know why you left," in a fit of anger, Yuna stepped on his foot with her heel. A strangled whimper, but he didn't turn away from her accusatory expression. "Because you wanted to taunt me. Because no matter how hard I try, I'm just not a genius. Because Dad is sick. Did you even know that? Even though I'm the one leading the board of directors, even though I'm the one that's older..." she growled, lost in her anger. "You're the one he's asking for!"
Everything she ever wanted, everything she worked for, Yuushi didn't want. Their father wanted him to have it, because he was the man. Yuushi had never seen Yuna lose it like this before. The fingers digging into his throat were suffocating and his knees felt wobbly.
"I don't want you back," Yuna said, as Yuushi turned blue, "But we need you back." I can't do it without you went unsaid. She had enough of the invisible competition. Yuna required a rival that was actually present to compete with her. For her to beat the crap out of.
For Yuushi, his own passions and desire for individuality reigned over his family obligations. They did not take mere respect to them, and since Yuushi wasn't willing to hand over his future, he ran. As far as he could to as many places as he could. The name that meant so much to them, Yuushi threw to the wind to be forever forgotten. In his opinion any person he made up could be just as legitimate, if not more genuine, than one Oshitari Yuushi.
Though Yuna held the power to end that life, and all of his lives right here and now. Yuushi refused to stop her. Only when he started to shake, back slipping and sinking against the wall, did Yuna let go with an expression of disgust.
"Why can't you just fight back," she was trying so hard to scare him back to where he 'belonged', but Yuushi could tell she was about to cry. "Why do you always have to run away?"
For a long minute Yuushi stared up at her from the floor, rubbing his neck. Already a huge mottled bruise seeped through into his skin. A handprint. "....My test?" he said finally.
Yuna looked completely flabbergasted, somewhere between laughing aloud and kicking him in the face. "Congratulations. You're pregnant, what the hell do you think?!" she settled for glaring at him.
"That wasn't exactly the information I had in mind," Oshitari straightened his clothes and stood. Yuna eyed him warily, circling to put herself between Yuushi and the already locked exit.
"The only information you need to know is this," her expression was schooled. Yuna looked more like the businesswoman that appeared as the speaker for Oshitari Group, and doing a damn good job of it. When he said she hadn't aged a day, he lied. The heaviness in her gait betrayed a decade. Maybe he really is sick, Yuushi thought. He didn't put it past her to lie to him about that. "You can come home with me. We will work together, and as you prove yourself trustworthy, opportunity will increase. You will have power, money and a rivalry for the top."
"Option two?" Oshitari inquired. If there was any desire for option one, his face did not exhibit it.
"I have you arrested. You go to jail until you agree to option one, upon which time you will work for me under house arrest until I deem you worthy enough to even bear the name Oshitari." Yuna's tone of voice suggested his worthiness would always be in question.
Oshitari considered. "What about option three?"
"There is no option three," Yuna's eyes narrowed.
"You're offering me everything," Oshitari said. "Except the most important thing in the world."
Yuna deadpanned. "It better not be love. I will hit you."
Oshitari kicked out the window, setting off the building alarm. "For freedom, there's always an option three," he lept out the window, ignoring the gut wrenching scream of a sister who thinks she's about to see her brother die.
YUUUSHIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!! the sound didn't seem real. He stared up as he fell further and further away from the look of utter horror on her face. The hot nurse held her back.
Free fall wasn't so bad. If this had to be his way to go. He thought about the nurse's hot boobs. He thought about Tezuka's dinner, still in the fridge and waiting for Yuushi to come back and put it in the oven. The Hello Kitty underwear he and Yanagi never donned to torment Oishi. Ohtori's fair blush as they teased the shit out of him. The fan lessons he swore he would give Atobe's girls. All the haircuts he could have had with Yukimura. He thought about the slopes of Yagyuu's neck craned against the shower as they made love. The massage he promised him. The novel about Chinese assassins that he never finished.
Best to leave life incomplete, he thought, thinking about all the people who would think about him as he fell into something hard and foul smelling that yielded to his weight.
There was no white light. His world went black for awhile.
"WE HAVE TO FIND HIM!" Yuushi heard as he came to, the most foul smell he ever beheld assaulting him from every side.
"Oshitari-san, we've searched everywhere. We are trying everything we can. Somehow he must have survived in condition well enough to run away. He's not here."
"Are you kidding? No one could survive that fall," another officer argued. "Let alone in condition well enough to run away."
Yuushi had never heard his sister so hysterical.
"Search more. You are obviously not trying everything you can. Find my baby brother, or I will have your job," if Yuushi could see beyond the garbage pit, he would see his sister looming over the chief of police.
Yuna loved Yuushi the only way she knew how. And she would never stop looking for him.
The voices ran off to check the grounds of the nearby shrine. Yuushi knew it was now or never. He mustered up the strength, breathed through his mouth, pushed open the latch and landed out of the garbage with a hard smack on the ground. Briefly he looked up at the window and down at the large garbage receptacle. From the drop, it did look rather incredible that he managed to land inside; it was so close to the wall, and the lid must have slammed down upon impact of his landing.
Option three might have knocked him on his ass, but it was viable. He was alive and free.
Though his every bone ached from the fall, Yuushi ran. He ran all the way to the other side of Shinjuku to a capsule hotel where no one would ask him questions. No one would care why he smelled so foul. He itched absolutely everywhere. No one would remark of the handprint around his neck.
I'll tell everyone I tried the new masturbation fad, he chuckled to himself and ran a hand through his hair.
And felt that. Something moving. He was no neat freak...but bugs were something he feared. Spiders were okay. Ants were okay. Many legged things and big bulbous insects were not okay.
That was why, when he reached into his normally soft and cleaned hair and pulled out a cockroach, Oshitari shrieked. He cast it to the floor and jumped on it, hands flailing and wandering all over more skin, convinced that there were more. Before he even received his towel or picked up a change of clothing he ran to the shower room. Even if he included the time with the two gorgeous, well endowed German women, Yuushi had never stripped so fast as he did now.
"...Get them off get them off get them off..." he repeated like a mantra as he scrubbed every inch of his body, carding and pulling through his hair. No more bugs emerged, but he still felt as if they were crawling all over him. Crawling and writing against his scalp. Furrowing into his brain and turning his thoughts to mold.
"Scissors," he demanded to the crowd of men in the bath who were watching him with the same curiosity one would give a dirty hobo in the street. "Get me scissors!" a young man darted out, fearful of the dark, aggressive look in his eyes and fetched a pair from the front desk. Yuushi had other things on his mind than his want to know whether or not he ran there naked.
In huge hunks he lopped off his hair. Scratching each bit of bared scalp and spraying it with water. No bugs. No bugs. He poured half the shampoo bottle on his almost barren head. Sobs escaped as he scrubbed, fingers digging into the scalp and toes curling into the dirty hair at his feet.
Footsteps behind him. "Do you want some help?" a deep voice sounded, in the Osaka accent. He was reminded of a more rustic version of his father. Most of the other curious people had left the bath by now; the remaining patrons of the bath were disinterested in the bruised and freaked out youth. Yuushi nodded and dropped his shaking hands. "My name is Saotome," he disclosed, gently washing his hair. It felt nicer than his own fearful touch. "I have a son about your age," he continued, "Going to Tokyo University. He's majoring in science. Showed me all the museums in town. I didn't understand a damn thing, but it was worth the trip to see him so happy."
Saotome held the shower head over his hair, washing away suds and the last of the cut off strands.
"Wash it again," Yuushi said. Not quite convinced that there was nothing there.
Nodding, Saotome filled his hands with shampoo and started scrubbing again. "I own a soba shop," he disclosed, "And I find that the soba from Tokyo just isn't as good...." he went on and on about the many kinds of soba he sold at his shop in Osaka, and how all of them were better than what they had in Tokyo. If Yuushi were actually listening, he might have believed him. He liked the sound of the calming voice and let the words drift in and out until he was asked a question.
"Did someone beat you up?"
"No," he replied. "I fell."
"Sure you did," Saotome said slowly. He didn't believe that answer, but he would accept it because the real answer wasn't his business.
Yuushi chuckled, because it was true.
"You really ought to go to the barber," he rinsed off Yuushi's hair again, water and soap pouring over his face and down his back. "Your hair looks terrible."
"Can you fix it?"
Saotome shook his head. "No. My wife does mine. But my train isn't until tomorrow morning and you look like you need some sake even more than a haircut."
A full on laugh. "I do."
"I don't reckon they'll fit perfectly, but you can have my spare set of clothes."
Yuushi nodded, sighing gratefully. What was left of his hair finally felt clean. Saotome took the stool next to him and they spoke while cleaning themselves. About life. About Saotome's son. About soba and about Osaka.
After sake that evening, Yuushi promised to go to Saotome's shop someday. Though he certainly believed in the superiority of Osaka noodles, he simply had to try for himself.
Drunk enough to feel warm in his belly and numb to the pain in his back, Yuushi folded himself up in the capsule that was too small for him and went to sleep. Tomorrow he would go back to his life. The life of freedom that he had been willing to die for. Option three hadn't failed him yet.
That night, he dreamed of having a wig that looked exactly like Oishi's hair and being pregnant with a crack addicted baby.
What: A not so chance encounter. STD test gone wrong and Yuushi sort of accidentally fakes his own death. The kindness of strangers.
Rating: PG-13 kinda disturbing in some spots. Plots get ridiculous when I'm bored at work. Read at your own risk.
Oshitari waited patiently in the clinic waiting room. The office was a small, professional health facility that would easily take cash for STD testing. He made the payment on his previous visit, and was now here to pick up the results.
Normally, the results didn't require picking up. Just a phone call notifying of a clean bill of health. He drummed his fingers nervously against his thigh. Given his track record, he could've easily picked up something.
I should've gotten tested the minute I got back from Mexico... he chided himself. Though he was in habit of safe sex, nothing was foolproof.
"Tanaka-san," a nurse approached him. Oshitari noticed her nipples pressing against her scrubs, then managed to get his eyes back up to her face. Thank you air conditioning. "Please come this way," she smiled at him, and he was happy to follow her into one of the patient rooms. His gaze continued to be on her until they reached the room and she bid farewell, locking the door behind her.
Locking the door behind her?
"Tanaka Junichirou," a flat, deep woman's voice said. A shiver went down Oshitari's spine. He knew that voice.
"Yuna," Oshitari didn't even pretend to smile as he turned around. His sister was as tall as he remembered. Taller than him, plus heels gave her a good few inches on him. Seconds later he was shoved into the wall and manicured fingers took a vice grip around his throat. He decided against calling her amazon woman. "You haven't aged a day," he choked out. She squeezed down tighter. Her eyes, midnight blue like his own, glared back at him narrow and sharp, like the point of a dagger. Yuna's glasses were real.
"It figures that I'd find you because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants," she sneered. "You really think we wouldn't be able to track down your writing? I thought those hippy drippy romance novels might be yours. Thanks so much for providing the DNA to prove it."
I'm so glad you read my work, he wanted to bite back, but her grip barely allowed him to breathe, let alone speak. Not a single movement was made to defend himself, but Yuushi's glared back at his older sister with defiance. Yuna saw it as the same defiance present to her when Yuushi was four and she was eight and she put his hair in pigtails for the first time. This was bigger than pig tails. Maybe not bigger than the frilly dresses, Yuushi thought, I might have been more upset about that.
"Why did you leave?" she demanded in a voice that was dangerously quiet.
More staring, and a choked gasp for air.
"I know why you left," in a fit of anger, Yuna stepped on his foot with her heel. A strangled whimper, but he didn't turn away from her accusatory expression. "Because you wanted to taunt me. Because no matter how hard I try, I'm just not a genius. Because Dad is sick. Did you even know that? Even though I'm the one leading the board of directors, even though I'm the one that's older..." she growled, lost in her anger. "You're the one he's asking for!"
Everything she ever wanted, everything she worked for, Yuushi didn't want. Their father wanted him to have it, because he was the man. Yuushi had never seen Yuna lose it like this before. The fingers digging into his throat were suffocating and his knees felt wobbly.
"I don't want you back," Yuna said, as Yuushi turned blue, "But we need you back." I can't do it without you went unsaid. She had enough of the invisible competition. Yuna required a rival that was actually present to compete with her. For her to beat the crap out of.
For Yuushi, his own passions and desire for individuality reigned over his family obligations. They did not take mere respect to them, and since Yuushi wasn't willing to hand over his future, he ran. As far as he could to as many places as he could. The name that meant so much to them, Yuushi threw to the wind to be forever forgotten. In his opinion any person he made up could be just as legitimate, if not more genuine, than one Oshitari Yuushi.
Though Yuna held the power to end that life, and all of his lives right here and now. Yuushi refused to stop her. Only when he started to shake, back slipping and sinking against the wall, did Yuna let go with an expression of disgust.
"Why can't you just fight back," she was trying so hard to scare him back to where he 'belonged', but Yuushi could tell she was about to cry. "Why do you always have to run away?"
For a long minute Yuushi stared up at her from the floor, rubbing his neck. Already a huge mottled bruise seeped through into his skin. A handprint. "....My test?" he said finally.
Yuna looked completely flabbergasted, somewhere between laughing aloud and kicking him in the face. "Congratulations. You're pregnant, what the hell do you think?!" she settled for glaring at him.
"That wasn't exactly the information I had in mind," Oshitari straightened his clothes and stood. Yuna eyed him warily, circling to put herself between Yuushi and the already locked exit.
"The only information you need to know is this," her expression was schooled. Yuna looked more like the businesswoman that appeared as the speaker for Oshitari Group, and doing a damn good job of it. When he said she hadn't aged a day, he lied. The heaviness in her gait betrayed a decade. Maybe he really is sick, Yuushi thought. He didn't put it past her to lie to him about that. "You can come home with me. We will work together, and as you prove yourself trustworthy, opportunity will increase. You will have power, money and a rivalry for the top."
"Option two?" Oshitari inquired. If there was any desire for option one, his face did not exhibit it.
"I have you arrested. You go to jail until you agree to option one, upon which time you will work for me under house arrest until I deem you worthy enough to even bear the name Oshitari." Yuna's tone of voice suggested his worthiness would always be in question.
Oshitari considered. "What about option three?"
"There is no option three," Yuna's eyes narrowed.
"You're offering me everything," Oshitari said. "Except the most important thing in the world."
Yuna deadpanned. "It better not be love. I will hit you."
Oshitari kicked out the window, setting off the building alarm. "For freedom, there's always an option three," he lept out the window, ignoring the gut wrenching scream of a sister who thinks she's about to see her brother die.
YUUUSHIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!! the sound didn't seem real. He stared up as he fell further and further away from the look of utter horror on her face. The hot nurse held her back.
Free fall wasn't so bad. If this had to be his way to go. He thought about the nurse's hot boobs. He thought about Tezuka's dinner, still in the fridge and waiting for Yuushi to come back and put it in the oven. The Hello Kitty underwear he and Yanagi never donned to torment Oishi. Ohtori's fair blush as they teased the shit out of him. The fan lessons he swore he would give Atobe's girls. All the haircuts he could have had with Yukimura. He thought about the slopes of Yagyuu's neck craned against the shower as they made love. The massage he promised him. The novel about Chinese assassins that he never finished.
Best to leave life incomplete, he thought, thinking about all the people who would think about him as he fell into something hard and foul smelling that yielded to his weight.
There was no white light. His world went black for awhile.
"WE HAVE TO FIND HIM!" Yuushi heard as he came to, the most foul smell he ever beheld assaulting him from every side.
"Oshitari-san, we've searched everywhere. We are trying everything we can. Somehow he must have survived in condition well enough to run away. He's not here."
"Are you kidding? No one could survive that fall," another officer argued. "Let alone in condition well enough to run away."
Yuushi had never heard his sister so hysterical.
"Search more. You are obviously not trying everything you can. Find my baby brother, or I will have your job," if Yuushi could see beyond the garbage pit, he would see his sister looming over the chief of police.
Yuna loved Yuushi the only way she knew how. And she would never stop looking for him.
The voices ran off to check the grounds of the nearby shrine. Yuushi knew it was now or never. He mustered up the strength, breathed through his mouth, pushed open the latch and landed out of the garbage with a hard smack on the ground. Briefly he looked up at the window and down at the large garbage receptacle. From the drop, it did look rather incredible that he managed to land inside; it was so close to the wall, and the lid must have slammed down upon impact of his landing.
Option three might have knocked him on his ass, but it was viable. He was alive and free.
Though his every bone ached from the fall, Yuushi ran. He ran all the way to the other side of Shinjuku to a capsule hotel where no one would ask him questions. No one would care why he smelled so foul. He itched absolutely everywhere. No one would remark of the handprint around his neck.
I'll tell everyone I tried the new masturbation fad, he chuckled to himself and ran a hand through his hair.
And felt that. Something moving. He was no neat freak...but bugs were something he feared. Spiders were okay. Ants were okay. Many legged things and big bulbous insects were not okay.
That was why, when he reached into his normally soft and cleaned hair and pulled out a cockroach, Oshitari shrieked. He cast it to the floor and jumped on it, hands flailing and wandering all over more skin, convinced that there were more. Before he even received his towel or picked up a change of clothing he ran to the shower room. Even if he included the time with the two gorgeous, well endowed German women, Yuushi had never stripped so fast as he did now.
"...Get them off get them off get them off..." he repeated like a mantra as he scrubbed every inch of his body, carding and pulling through his hair. No more bugs emerged, but he still felt as if they were crawling all over him. Crawling and writing against his scalp. Furrowing into his brain and turning his thoughts to mold.
"Scissors," he demanded to the crowd of men in the bath who were watching him with the same curiosity one would give a dirty hobo in the street. "Get me scissors!" a young man darted out, fearful of the dark, aggressive look in his eyes and fetched a pair from the front desk. Yuushi had other things on his mind than his want to know whether or not he ran there naked.
In huge hunks he lopped off his hair. Scratching each bit of bared scalp and spraying it with water. No bugs. No bugs. He poured half the shampoo bottle on his almost barren head. Sobs escaped as he scrubbed, fingers digging into the scalp and toes curling into the dirty hair at his feet.
Footsteps behind him. "Do you want some help?" a deep voice sounded, in the Osaka accent. He was reminded of a more rustic version of his father. Most of the other curious people had left the bath by now; the remaining patrons of the bath were disinterested in the bruised and freaked out youth. Yuushi nodded and dropped his shaking hands. "My name is Saotome," he disclosed, gently washing his hair. It felt nicer than his own fearful touch. "I have a son about your age," he continued, "Going to Tokyo University. He's majoring in science. Showed me all the museums in town. I didn't understand a damn thing, but it was worth the trip to see him so happy."
Saotome held the shower head over his hair, washing away suds and the last of the cut off strands.
"Wash it again," Yuushi said. Not quite convinced that there was nothing there.
Nodding, Saotome filled his hands with shampoo and started scrubbing again. "I own a soba shop," he disclosed, "And I find that the soba from Tokyo just isn't as good...." he went on and on about the many kinds of soba he sold at his shop in Osaka, and how all of them were better than what they had in Tokyo. If Yuushi were actually listening, he might have believed him. He liked the sound of the calming voice and let the words drift in and out until he was asked a question.
"Did someone beat you up?"
"No," he replied. "I fell."
"Sure you did," Saotome said slowly. He didn't believe that answer, but he would accept it because the real answer wasn't his business.
Yuushi chuckled, because it was true.
"You really ought to go to the barber," he rinsed off Yuushi's hair again, water and soap pouring over his face and down his back. "Your hair looks terrible."
"Can you fix it?"
Saotome shook his head. "No. My wife does mine. But my train isn't until tomorrow morning and you look like you need some sake even more than a haircut."
A full on laugh. "I do."
"I don't reckon they'll fit perfectly, but you can have my spare set of clothes."
Yuushi nodded, sighing gratefully. What was left of his hair finally felt clean. Saotome took the stool next to him and they spoke while cleaning themselves. About life. About Saotome's son. About soba and about Osaka.
After sake that evening, Yuushi promised to go to Saotome's shop someday. Though he certainly believed in the superiority of Osaka noodles, he simply had to try for himself.
Drunk enough to feel warm in his belly and numb to the pain in his back, Yuushi folded himself up in the capsule that was too small for him and went to sleep. Tomorrow he would go back to his life. The life of freedom that he had been willing to die for. Option three hadn't failed him yet.
That night, he dreamed of having a wig that looked exactly like Oishi's hair and being pregnant with a crack addicted baby.
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This just gives him an excuse to taunt everyone with wigs that look like their hair.
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