Work Text:
The news breaks in the middle of a class trip to Okinawa, so Juri learns about Koki's departure at the same time as the rest of the world. By the time his mother calls with the details, the story has already spread like wildfire across the hotel, mutating ever so slightly with every retelling.
“I heard he got a tattoo on his dick,” one of the pricks in Amuse Inc snickers right as Juri walks past. “What a loser. He deserved to get kicked out.”
“I don’t even like Johnnys, but KAT-TUN is better off without him,” his asshole friend agrees, pointedly making eye contact with Juri as if daring him to respond. “So trashy.”
Juri’s ears burn.
Over the next few days, Juri gets a crash course on what it means to be persona non grata.
It's one thing for kids from rival agencies to talk shit, but Juri naïvely doesn't expect the same from other Johnnys. So it's an understatement to say he's caught off-guard by the casual callousness, the fucking ease with which people turn on him.
It's like Koki isn't a person anymore. He's just a punchline for unfunny jokes, a caricature stripped of the right to make mistakes.
Juri gets into more fights in three days than he has in five years.
—
Unexpectedly, Shota ends up being the voice of reason.
"If you want to quit, that's fine." He drops a can of cold coffee in Juri's hands before sitting down next to him. "For your lip, it'll help with the bruising. Anyway, if you want to quit, that's fine. But don't give them a reason to fire you."
Juri laughs, bitter. "What's the difference?"
Shota doesn't say anything for a minute, then two.
"Getting fired means those assholes were right," he says, finally. "And they're not."
Juri breathes for the first time all week.
Shota sighs. “They’d be stupid to let you go anyway. Not that it would be the first time,” he mutters. He puts his coffee down and thumbs the rim absentmindedly. “What are you up to tonight?”
Juri leans back in his chair, shrugs. The tension leaks out of his shoulders.
“Let's get dinner. I want to try the new ramen place down the road.”
—
The dust settles at work. Or, more accurately, some other, more interesting scandal distracts the peanut gallery and they lose interest in the Tanakas. It’s shitty, but Juri will take it.
Dinner with Shota slowly becomes a semi-regular thing. Once in a while turns into every other day; by the time Juri gets into university, it’s six times a week.
“I can’t believe you’re going to the same university as me,” Shota beams. “Juri, please take care of me~”
Juri laughs so hard he chokes on his dim sum. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that? You’re the senpai!”
“So?”
“So you should take care of me!”
Shota scrunches his face in distaste. “That doesn’t sound realistic.”
"Right," Juri laughs.
Some days are easier than others, but for now, Juri is content to take life one dinner at a time.