Chapter Text
There was only a day left before the group was off for the winter holidays.
Jo opened the door to the day's set, nodding to the immediate staff and exchanging morning pleasantries. The schedule for the day was leisurely; a group photo shoot in the morning for Myojo and promotional recordings for Naniwa Danshi's next single throughout the afternoon.
He was grateful for the lax schedule. After months of perpetual touring, interviews, and recordings—not to mention the New Year's Day concert and festivities—he could finally take a moment to relax. First thing tomorrow morning, he would be flying to L.A. to see the Dodgers play on their home field. His heart pounded in excitement, imagining the players on the grass. Ohtani would be on the roster. Jo had timed it perfectly.
He glanced around the room, looking beyond the gathered cameramen and managers. Naniwa Danshi were scattered about, each attending to their own matters. Kyohei was playing mobile games in the corner while Ryusei did his makeup, consulting a sparkling hand mirror in his palm. Daigo was grabbing at Ryusei greedily while Kento stood in the corner, fussing over the positioning of his necktie. Micchi rested on a chair, paradoxically drinking coffee to keep himself awake, but also slumping down in an almost slumber.
At the sight of Ohashi's absence, Jo suppressed a sigh, figuring he was in the washroom again. He couldn't deny that he was somewhat grateful that Ohashi wasn't around yet. He couldn't help but feel guilty whenever he was around.
Jo knew Ohashi had feelings for him—there was no denying it. He had had suspicions of it for a very long time. It wasn’t entirely obvious at first. While Ohashi was anything but subtle, he was unmistakably firm with his boundaries. Jo knew better than most people how devoted Ohashi was to being an idol. If it took swearing off dating, he would do so.
But Jo knew that didn’t stop Ohashi from taking an interest in anyone. It was getting harder for Jo to ignore the timid glances in his direction, the brushes against his shoulder, the hesitant invites to restaurants after work. Sure, Ohashi acted invasive and touchy with everybody, but there was a limit to how much he could do it off-camera before it started to feel serious.
Jo didn’t necessarily have a problem with it. He just didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it. There was no denying that he didn’t exactly reciprocate his feelings. They had known each other for nearly two decades. If feelings were ever going to develop, he figured they would have by now.
But Ohashi didn’t seem to have any plans to confess. Jo couldn't tell if it was crueler to know about Ohashi’s crush and not do anything about it, or to confront him before he was ready.
The door to the studio burst open, and Ohashi rushed in, wearing his usual grin. He bowed his head to the nearby staff and pressed his hands together, addressing every member with an apology for the delay. At his appearance, Daigo sat up from beside Ryusei, and the rest of the group took it as a sign to gather.
“You done your toilet break?” Jo asked as Ohashi sidled up to the group.
“I almost thought you guys started without me,” he laughed, although he didn’t really seem to believe they would.
They all started to form a lopsided circle, pocketing their phones and fidgeting with their bangs as the staff began preparing the cameras for the shoot. Micchi fumbled with his clothes, patting down his pant pockets as if in search of something.
“Where are my glasses?” he mumbled, asking so quietly that Jo was sure he was asking himself. Jo couldn’t help but break out into a choked cackle, nudging Ohashi in the side. Micchi’s glasses were perched precariously on his head, tucked lightly into his styled curls.
Ohashi laughed more politely than he normally would, and Jo found himself thinking again about Ohashi’s feelings. Things weren’t working the way they were supposed to. Jo joked, and Ohashi laughed loudly. Their banter was supposed to be easy. The two of them were supposed to be able to laugh and joke and flirt, because in the end, nothing between them would ever change. They were Jo and Ohashi, partners and rivals—nothing could ever disrupt that. How was he supposed to handle the fact that Ohashi wanted something more?
Daigo and Ohashi were kinder than Jo and gently referred Micchi to the top of his head. Micchi’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he glanced at the reporters from Myojo like he knew that it would end up in a behind-the-scenes tweet later on.
They all began to line up for the first photo, following the directions from the staff. Ohashi stared at Jo from the back of the huddle, his eyes eerily trained on his face. Jo shivered and looked away. He could chalk up the look to Ohashi's habit of zoning out. The group was no stranger to his tendency to stare off into the ether, seemingly present but with eyes devoid of life. But this stare was too intentional.
In any case, the shoot went smoothly. It didn’t take Jo much effort to zone out and let muscle memory take over. Twenty years of experience in the idol industry left him numb to the strain of bright smiles for a camera and intimate hugs with his coworkers. Maybe Ohashi’s feelings left him a bit on edge today, but he couldn’t do anything about it.
Jo scooped up his tote bag from a table near the exit, rummaging through it to make sure he had his things. It would be a pain to leave something behind when he’d be leaving the country tomorrow. The rest of Naniwa Danshi were largely doing the same, gathering their belongings and checking their phones for texts from the managers. Ohashi was lingering closely by his side, eyeing him as he collected his own leather satchel, wrinkled from wear and tear.
When Jo began to exit the room, Ohashi not far behind, Daigo hurried up to the two of them, holding out a hand as if he were ordering them to stop in their tracks. He panted—a detail Jo ribbed him for—exaggeratedly taking in a few breaths before grinning.
“You two free for a drink after rehearsal? The three of us haven't gone out together in a while.”
“I’m free,” Ohashi replied immediately.
Jo sent him a wary glance, surprised by his immediate assent. He knew Ohashi usually checked over his schedule before agreeing to any plans. Most of the time, he was the busiest member of the group. The anomaly itched in the back of his mind.
“I have–”
“Your flight tomorrow morning, right? C’mon, it won’t hurt to get one drink,” Ohashi interrupted.
Jo eyed him, unsettled by his eagerness. Was Ohashi desperate for a chance to hang out with him outside of work?
“Where are we going?” Jo asked, turning back towards Daigo.
“There’s a bar that was on a variety show the other day. It’s in some haunted area by a temple. They say once you're in there, you lose all sense of time,” Daigo replied, waving his hands in front of his face like a ghost.
“Because you're drunk,” Jo deadpanned.
“You’re no fun,” Daigo sighed, shoving Jo’s shoulder.
“Do you really believe there are spirits there?” Jo asked, raising an eyebrow at Ohashi.
“As long as I get to drink spirits, I don’t mind,” Ohashi shrugged.
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The bar was quaint, tucked into a hidden nook of the already discreet neighbourhood. The wooden walls were old and withered, peeling in thick strips and splintering at the edges. Ginkgo trees surrounded the building, their branches heavy with golden leaves. The aftermath of the pungent smells of autumn lingered in the air, and Jo cringed at the residue.
Daigo turned to Ohashi, as if to confirm that this was the correct place. Both Daigo and Jo were masked up and covered by a bucket hat and baseball cap respectively, but Ohashi was scarily bare.
“You're not going to wear anything?” Jo asked.
“No one comes around here,” Ohashi replied, waving a hand dismissively.
“Are you sure?”
“A hundo percent,” he said, grinning the stupid smile he did when he was wrong, but knew Jo would fix things later anyway.
The three of them entered the bar, ducking to fit under the short doorway. The building was composed of a single room, lit in the corners by heavy metal lanterns. The flames within flickered sporadically, dousing the room in darkness before blinking back to life with a shallow glow. There were a few tables nestled together in the tight space, and the accompanying stools left little room for stepping space.
A daruma doll sat on the shelf behind the main counter, followed by a yellowed calendar, a beckoning cat, and a heavy slab of wood, inscribed with a swooping kanji character. Thick bottles of sake lay by its side, hints of dust collecting along the glass. An old man stood below the low-hanging shelf, wiping an already polished glass with an equally undirtied washcloth.
The three of them made their orders—a beer for Daigo, a highball for Ohashi, and a ginger ale for Jo—and the old man by the counter got to work slowly, clinking glasses together as he grouped their orders in front of them. Ohashi ordered a large bowl of dried raisins as tsumami, insisting he couldn't drink without it.
The man briskly handed over Jo’s drink, and the ginger ale frothed, foam sizzling up to the rim. Jo watched the bubbles within float up from the bottom, running in shaky lines. He took a sip, and the carbonated liquid burned going down.
Ohashi took a heavy sample of his own drink, setting the glass down with a large huff. He started fanning himself like he was drunk already, and immediately began laughing when he caught Jo’s unimpressed gaze.
“Is my face red?” he asked.
“Ohashi, you just started drinking. Nothing is showing on your face.”
Daigo chuckled at the exchange, merrily sipping on his beer.
“You two are so cute,” he sighed, placing a hand over his heart.
Jo scoffed, but he wasn’t really annoyed. He felt somewhat relieved that Daigo was teasing them as usual. At least something was staying the same. If Daigo had made that statement with weight, it would have made everything feel too real.
Ohashi made steady progress on his highball. His high tolerance for alcohol left him barely incapacitated, his cheeks only sparingly flushed. Jo had enough experience drinking with Ohashi to know that he didn’t change much even when he was drunk. Ohashi didn’t need alcohol to be loud and shameless.
Speaking of shameless, Ohashi was fiddling with Jo’s fingers on the counter. Ohashi didn’t seem to be thinking too hard about it. He raised one of Jo’s fingers at a time, rubbing it with a thumb before gently plopping it back down on the hardwood. When Jo made eye contact, Ohashi only gave him a toothy grin.
Daigo rambled on by Jo’s side, talking about an outing he had gone on recently with Ren and Masakado. Daigo was definitely getting drunk. He was babbling and both fishing for and spewing out compliments. He paid no heed to Ohashi’s fidgeting with Jo’s hand.
Daigo continued, “We got so drunk that we didn’t know where we were anymore. It was bad. Ren almost tripped and fell into some trash cans by a conbini. The cashier ran outside to make sure he was okay. Watch that get on the tabloids.”
Ohashi snickered appropriately, and Jo joined him with a short giggle. Ohashi finally stopped playing with Jo’s hand and finished by gripping it firmly.
“You trying to get us on the tabloids too?” Jo asked, lifting their locked hands.
“Think of the headline, Jo-kun and Hassun’s secret love affair,” Daigo joked with delight.
“Yeah. Jo and Ohashi's secret love affair. Oh, and Daigo was there too,” Jo said with a roll of his eyes.
“It's okay, Jo-kun. I know how much you want to be alone with me. We can have a date, just you and me next time, alright?” Ohashi said.
“Like hell I do,” Jo groaned.
The three of them descended into laughter, Ohashi and Daigo's chortles punctuated by their inebriation. Ohashi let go of Jo's hand, but still huddled close to Jo's side, letting his body heat seep into Jo's Orix jersey. As Ohashi's laugh tapered off, his head came close to dropping on Jo's shoulder, a vestige of his giggle ghosting over Jo's face.
Jo gently pushed Ohashi back to his drink, which Ohashi gratefully gulped down. He ordered another highball, pressing his empty glass back towards the old man.
Was Daigo seeing this? Jo glanced at him warily, struggling to ignore Ohashi’s presence at his opposite side. Even though he had created some distance, he could still feel Ohashi’s shoulder bumping against his and the occasional bump of Ohashi’s foot against his under the bar. It was impossible to escape Ohashi’s touch when he was beside you.
Jo swallowed. Would it be too much to confront Ohashi now? Ask him what’s been going on? No. It wouldn’t be fair while Daigo was sitting right there. He didn’t even know what he’d say. Jo wasn’t ready himself.
The three wandered around small talk for the rest of the night. Ohashi and Daigo got drunker while Jo remained somberly sober. It didn’t help that there was so much going on in his head while Ohashi and Daigo lost control over any thought in theirs. Ohashi’s relentless flirting didn’t do much good either.
Ohashi harshly downed the last of his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the liquid sank down.
“I think I’m going to head out,” he said, jerking a thumb shakily towards the doorway.
“This early? You’re not going to have another drink?” Daigo asked, raising his own in confusion.
Jo frankly didn’t see how Daigo could be thinking Ohashi was leaving too early; they had already been going at it for a few hours.
“Nah. I don’t want a headache tomorrow,” Ohashi shrugged.
Ohashi brushed his hand across Jo’s shoulder before taking his leave. He noticeably didn’t take a moment to pay for his drink, prompting a knowing snort from Jo. Of course, Ohashi would take advantage of any opportunity he could to save money.
Jo swallowed down another mouthful of his ginger ale. He felt a bit more at ease now that Ohashi had left. The thought gave him a sour feeling in his stomach, and he almost wished he really had gotten drunk with the rest of them. At least then he wouldn’t have to be feeling this way. He looked to Daigo, who seemed to be waiting for Jo to speak up. It must have been obvious that Jo had been thinking over something. Daigo was smart enough not to prod him in front of Ohashi.
Jo sighed. He figured it was better now than never.
“I think… Ohashi has a crush on me.”
Daigo sputtered on his drink, coughing a few times to clear his throat. He clearly hadn’t been expecting Jo to be that blunt about it.
“What makes you think that?” he finally replied.
“I don’t know. Did you see him? He was pretty touchy,” Jo said.
“Hassun is always touchy.”
“I know that. It’s just– It feels like more than that. It’s the way he talks to me. The way he looks at me like I hung the stars every time I walk into a room. I’m not imagining it. He’s got feelings for me,” Jo insisted.
“Do you like him back?”
“No,” he said firmly.
Jo didn’t like the way that Daigo looked at him as if he were lying. It wasn’t fair. Jo would know himself better than anyone. Daigo looked like he was about to seriously press Jo on his answer, before the alcohol seemingly took over, and his mood shifted with a playful smile.
“Are you sure you don’t like him? We all know your camera roll is an Ohashi fan book,” Daigo mused.
Jo scowled. “I’m sure,” he took another sip of his ginger ale, “I don’t… see him in that way. We’ve been friends forever. I just don’t know if I could change that.”
“You don’t have to change anything if you don’t want to,” Daigo said.
“I know. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to act around him.”
“Well, you’re leaving for Los Angeles tomorrow. You can figure it out after then,” Daigo pointed out.
Jo heaved a sigh and pushed his glass away from him on the bar.
“I guess you’re right.”
Jo paid the bill—after some arguing with Daigo about the cost—and thought nothing of the rest of the night.
The train ride back to his apartment flowed smoothly. He had just managed to avoid missing the last train, and the late hour left the cars destitute of people. He remembered the one other person in his car, a drunk salaryman who wore a garish green tie, littered with silver stripes. It made him think of Ohashi. When he got home, he was grateful to remember that his suitcase was already packed and placed by his front door, paired with his sizeable backpack. Jo changed into his pyjamas and called it a night.
He didn’t have to handle Ohashi’s feelings anytime soon. He could take his time.