Samurai Flamenco - Quiet Me [Gotoyoshi]
Sep. 12th, 2014 01:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scriveynerTitle: Quiet Me
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi, Mari, Ishihara
Rating: T
Length: 922
Summary:
There was a television on in the background, which is how he heard about it first. Masayoshi hadn’t been paying attention to it, it was one of many background noises in the busy studio and often completely overwhelmed by Mari’s voice, sickly-sweet and unnatural to him now, her performing personality on in full as she argued playfully with Mizuki and Moe. The name of a prefecture caught his ear though - and it took a few moments to filter through his subconscious. Why was that so familiar?
He swiveled in his seat and looked back at the television, one of many arranged around the set. It wasn’t time for taping yet, they were still working through the staging so there were people milling around everywhere. However, Mari saw Masayoshi go stock-still from halfway across the studio, and curious despite herself, walked over to him. Before she could open her mouth, he stood up. “Ishihara-san!” Masayoshi yelled - he didn’t run, not in the studio, but he moved very quickly past a startled Mari and located Ishihara quickly. She was standing with several other producers, and her sour expression melted from her face at the look on Masayoshi’s face. “I can’t tape today,” Masayoshi said hurriedly. “I’m very sorry, I’ll explain later, I can’t, I’ve got to- I’m sorry!” He bowed sloppily and didn’t wait for a reaction before he turned and almost bolted from the room.
Mari caught up to him at the exit. “I’m coming with you,” she said.
Masayoshi hesitated then - and Moe and Mizuki caught up to Mari at a dead run. “They’ll need you here, it’s a live show,” Masayoshi said, looking desperately to Mizuki and Moe, who had no idea why either of them had bolted. When Mari turned back to glance at the other girls, he slipped out the door, pulling his phone from his pocket as he ran up the street.
There were no texts waiting for him.
#
It wasn’t unusual for Gotou not to text him during the day - some days his shift at the koban would be exceedingly dull and he would text Masayoshi intermittently, other days it would be so hectic he wouldn’t hear from Gotou until he was on his way out, to figure out what they were doing for dinner and if he should pick something up on the way home. All the same, the silence wore heavy, and Masayoshi shortcut around the mail system entirely and called Gotou’s phone. It rang twice, and went to voicemail. When he tried it a second time, it went straight to voicemail.
Frustrated, Masayoshi texted him. Answer your phone.
When he tried a third time - straight to voicemail. He wanted to bounce his phone off the concrete - instead he slipped it into his jacket pocket, one hand wrapped around it tight just in case Gotou woke up and called him back and he didn’t hear it ring over the busy street. He bounced on his feet, waiting among the pedestrians, glancing up and down the sidewalk as if he’d see Gotou walking briskly toward him. Why wouldn’t that idiot answer his phone?
Well, he knew why.
On a hunch Masayoshi skipped the apartment entirely, going straight to the train station. It was busy midafternoon, people milling everywhere but as he fought through the crowd and tried not to get too jostled he spotted Gotou standing by the line, shoulders stiff and looking straight ahead as if he didn’t see anything at all. He was still wearing his uniform trousers but he’d put a hooded jacket on over his button-down, despite the late summer humidity. The name was clumsy in his mouth, but he was permitted to use it, now - he didn’t like to though, because Gotou-san was Gotou-san, that was what he was comfortable with. “Hidenori.”
Gotou jerked like he had been physically struck. Several bystanders looked over - Masayoshi caught Gotou’s sleeve as he whirled around, eyes wide. “You turned off your phone,” Masayoshi said, only slightly out of breath from how much he had run.
“Masayoshi?” Gotou was surprised, or at least his tone was - his face was indescribable. “What are you doing here-?”
"Idiot,” Masayoshi said savagely, surprised at the anger that had built in his tone. “Do you think I would make you face this by yourself?”
He had always known, Masayoshi knew now - in the back of his mind, buried away deep, there was no way that her story would end happily. It would be a relief to have this closure, eventually, but right now the wound was ripped open again, raw and bleeding. Masayoshi grabbed Gotou, crushed him close in a hug and he sagged again Masayoshi, grabbing on to the back of his shirt like Masayoshi was his only anchor. Masayoshi held him tightly and ignored the stares and side-glances from the people around him. “We’ll go together,” he murmured, feeling Gotou shake with relief in his arms. “You don’t have to be alone.”
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi, Mari, Ishihara
Rating: T
Length: 922
Summary:
There was a television on in the background, which is how he heard about it first. Masayoshi hadn’t been paying attention to it, it was one of many background noises in the busy studio and often completely overwhelmed by Mari’s voice, sickly-sweet and unnatural to him now, her performing personality on in full as she argued playfully with Mizuki and Moe. The name of a prefecture caught his ear though - and it took a few moments to filter through his subconscious. Why was that so familiar?
He swiveled in his seat and looked back at the television, one of many arranged around the set. It wasn’t time for taping yet, they were still working through the staging so there were people milling around everywhere. However, Mari saw Masayoshi go stock-still from halfway across the studio, and curious despite herself, walked over to him. Before she could open her mouth, he stood up. “Ishihara-san!” Masayoshi yelled - he didn’t run, not in the studio, but he moved very quickly past a startled Mari and located Ishihara quickly. She was standing with several other producers, and her sour expression melted from her face at the look on Masayoshi’s face. “I can’t tape today,” Masayoshi said hurriedly. “I’m very sorry, I’ll explain later, I can’t, I’ve got to- I’m sorry!” He bowed sloppily and didn’t wait for a reaction before he turned and almost bolted from the room.
Mari caught up to him at the exit. “I’m coming with you,” she said.
Masayoshi hesitated then - and Moe and Mizuki caught up to Mari at a dead run. “They’ll need you here, it’s a live show,” Masayoshi said, looking desperately to Mizuki and Moe, who had no idea why either of them had bolted. When Mari turned back to glance at the other girls, he slipped out the door, pulling his phone from his pocket as he ran up the street.
There were no texts waiting for him.
It wasn’t unusual for Gotou not to text him during the day - some days his shift at the koban would be exceedingly dull and he would text Masayoshi intermittently, other days it would be so hectic he wouldn’t hear from Gotou until he was on his way out, to figure out what they were doing for dinner and if he should pick something up on the way home. All the same, the silence wore heavy, and Masayoshi shortcut around the mail system entirely and called Gotou’s phone. It rang twice, and went to voicemail. When he tried it a second time, it went straight to voicemail.
Frustrated, Masayoshi texted him. Answer your phone.
When he tried a third time - straight to voicemail. He wanted to bounce his phone off the concrete - instead he slipped it into his jacket pocket, one hand wrapped around it tight just in case Gotou woke up and called him back and he didn’t hear it ring over the busy street. He bounced on his feet, waiting among the pedestrians, glancing up and down the sidewalk as if he’d see Gotou walking briskly toward him. Why wouldn’t that idiot answer his phone?
Well, he knew why.
On a hunch Masayoshi skipped the apartment entirely, going straight to the train station. It was busy midafternoon, people milling everywhere but as he fought through the crowd and tried not to get too jostled he spotted Gotou standing by the line, shoulders stiff and looking straight ahead as if he didn’t see anything at all. He was still wearing his uniform trousers but he’d put a hooded jacket on over his button-down, despite the late summer humidity. The name was clumsy in his mouth, but he was permitted to use it, now - he didn’t like to though, because Gotou-san was Gotou-san, that was what he was comfortable with. “Hidenori.”
Gotou jerked like he had been physically struck. Several bystanders looked over - Masayoshi caught Gotou’s sleeve as he whirled around, eyes wide. “You turned off your phone,” Masayoshi said, only slightly out of breath from how much he had run.
“Masayoshi?” Gotou was surprised, or at least his tone was - his face was indescribable. “What are you doing here-?”
"Idiot,” Masayoshi said savagely, surprised at the anger that had built in his tone. “Do you think I would make you face this by yourself?”
He had always known, Masayoshi knew now - in the back of his mind, buried away deep, there was no way that her story would end happily. It would be a relief to have this closure, eventually, but right now the wound was ripped open again, raw and bleeding. Masayoshi grabbed Gotou, crushed him close in a hug and he sagged again Masayoshi, grabbing on to the back of his shirt like Masayoshi was his only anchor. Masayoshi held him tightly and ignored the stares and side-glances from the people around him. “We’ll go together,” he murmured, feeling Gotou shake with relief in his arms. “You don’t have to be alone.”
