Chapter Text
Balancing two bags between occupied arms in the rush hour of Tokyo’s subway required ability not many could muster. The young man knew when and where to move before anyone else did. He always knew. One leg ahead of the other, head ducked or lifted, and maneuvering away before a long line of passenger could hit him square on the shoulder. Not to say he enjoyed being stuck in crowds, but Takaba liked the feeling of crisscrossing through quick-moving people and coming out fastest at the end. Reminded him of that racing game he used to play as a boy. It was a little victory he celebrated every time.
Taking the nearest exit, he climbed the stairs two steps at a time. Bright lights, jam-packed streets, and multiple unidentifiable city sounds engulfed his senses above. The night was young. People of various age and status roamed this city, some had just left work and looking forward to a quality time with friends and colleagues, some rushing to get where home is, some, usually younger ones, walked to and from outlet stores without significant purpose beside trying not to get bored.
Humming nonsense all the way through the crowd, ducking here and there once again, Takaba headed uptown. Tonight was a special occasion for him alone. He got promoted to permanent employee earlier in the day. After almost two years drifting afloat from job to job, as a photographer on hire, he was barely able to buy onigiri once a day, let alone pay for his own rent. Kou played a huge role in his survival. Had his friend not generously let Takaba rent a room in his apartment for a mind-blowingly low price, Takaba would accept Daiki’s offer to work in his brothel, or worse, forced to run back home with tail between his legs.
The young man decided, for once, he’d be the one to buy his generous friend dinner.
“KOU!”
In excitement and haste, Takaba slammed open the front door to their shared living space. “Kou! Got some good news for you!”
Said friend was apparently dozing off on the couch a matter of seconds ago. He stared at Takaba with sleepy eyes, bed hair sticking out from odd angles. “What? Motherfucker.”
“Wake up, Kou! Here, for you!”
Three packs of melon bread were dumped on his lap, then sushi, Pocky, curry bowl, and lastly, six cans of beer. It took ten whole seconds for Kou to finally register such oddity. “Fucker. You suddenly rich, man? What up?” He opened the steaming bowl of curry, growing more suspicious by the second, “Man, it’s meat?”
“Well, dude, what the fuck you expect?”
Kou wrinkled his forehead, “I dunno man, some cheaper shit?”
Takaba snorted.
“Don’t fucking laugh, tell me what up?”
Taking hold of one melon bread, Takaba tore open the package. He snickered smugly after taking a bite, “You know, you’ve been kinda nice to me for two years-”
“Damn right.”
“Shut it,” Takaba warned with a playful irk to his tone, “As I said, you’ve been kinda nice, so I thought….”
Kou raised an eyebrow, “Ya thought?”
“I thought ‘Imma buy you dinner for once ‘cause I got hired!”
His friend’s sleepy eyes widened a fraction, before opening even wider a second later, “Man, you serious?!”
“Yeah, man!”
“What the fuck! Come here, man!” Kou abandoned his post on the couch, melon bread and Pocky dropping off his lap. The two of them came together in a tight hug, Kou slapped his back three times, typical of him. “I almost thought you accepted Daiki’s offer!”
“Dude! Gross! You want me to suck some old man’s cock to buy you these?”
“Fuck, no!”
Both men laughed the news away in joy, basking in the glow of the situation. Takaba had known a moment to celebrate when he sees one. They enjoyed what little victory they got, and just like that, as the hours ticked by, six cans of beer were consumed before sunrise.
***
“What do you think?”
Takaba had been whirling around in front of Kou’s standing mirror for almost an hour. First day at work seemed to motivate the young man into dressing properly for once in his life. Kou was busy rummaging through his wardrobe to see whether the shirt he bought last week could fit into Takaba’s slighter frame. He poked his head from his room, judging the Hawaiian shirt his friend was wearing. “You want me to be honest or less offending?”
Takaba gave him a dry stare.
“Honest it is,” Kou almost chuckled, “Looks lame.”
The young man threw his hands up in exasperation. “God damned-” He stared at himself in the mirror for the umpteenth time. Kou was right, he looked like trash. This shirt might look good on his friend but on him? Nah. His shoulder was way too boney.
“Aw, yo! Takaba!”
Still grumbling to himself, struggling to take off the borrowed shirt, he stalked into Kou’s room. “What?!” He was met with a wide grin. Kou shoved another shirt to his face, “Try this one! It’s an old-ass garment but it’s supposed to fit you just right.”
The fabric in Takaba’s hands felt soft. As he looked it over, he sent back to his friend, “I never saw you use this one.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t fit me anymore.”
Shrugging away the response, Takaba put on the new piece of attire on top of his inner t-shirt. He went back to the mirror and checked himself out. The button down had a checkered pattern with three color combination. He contemplated for a while. The hues complimented his eye and hair, it goes with his jeans, and most importantly, it didn’t droop sadly from his shoulder.
“Told you it’d fit.”
Takaba sent a pleasant smile through the mirror. “You think so?”
“Yeah, man. Honest.” Kou made a hasty thumbs up while nodding his approval.
“Alright. I’ll borrow this one.”
His friend rolled his eyes, “At last.” The man picked Takaba’s camera bag, fixing the straps and handing it back to him. “Here you go.” They waved quick goodbye at the door. Kou wished him luck and Takaba thanked him, promising to buy another dinner today as he ran descending the flight of stairs.
It was barely five-past-eight in the morning, but Tokyo had buzzed with life. Takaba was happy that finally! Finally, for once in his life he could (almost) be independent from having to ask others for help. He made a small promise with every step that he took, he’d rent his own place soon, he’d pay back everything Kou had graciously given him for the past two years. Takaba had not the heart to disappoint anyone anymore. Determination flared up to life inside him today, and he’d put it to good use.
Despite not needing to rush, Takaba jogged excitedly through the streets. He couldn’t wipe the genuine yet dumb smile off his face. As per usual, the young man ducked here and there to avoid crashing into another pedestrian. People might see him odd for the noticeable bounce in his steps, but Takaba couldn’t care less. It was his first day as a permanent employee. Anyone would feel entitled to some excitement.
It took him around thirty minutes to get to his workplace: a moderately reputable production house that focused on content creation and photography for several monthly magazines. Kemushi Studio, as written in its minimalistic logo at the entrance, was located thirty minutes downtown from where he and Kou lived, right between Akihabara and Tokyo’s financial district, Marunouchi.
Everything sported an air of casual professionalism right from the welcome mat to the reception desk behind the main entrance. Takaba entered quietly despite the closed sign on the glass door, he was immediately greeted by a young lady at the desk. “Takaba-san!”
Takaba bowed slightly with the brightest smile on his face, “Kobayashi-san! Good morning!”
Kobayashi marched to him from her station, she patted him on the shoulder, “Heard you got hired last week! Congratulation! I knew Shunsuke would concede one day.”
“Kobayashi-san, you’re flattering me.” Takaba’s smile turned shy, he could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks.
Said woman laughed, “Oh, no! Your work ethics deserves more than a permanent staff status, trust me. And come on, call me Miyuki, we’re on the same team now.”
Takaba bowed lightly once more, “Thank you, Miyuki-san. Please take care of me.”
Miyuki Patted him some more before herding Takaba to their supervisor’s room, Itou Shunsuke. She knocked on the door thrice, loudly, almost yelling at the equally yelling voice from inside, asking what she wanted. “The new guy’s here, Shun! Come greet him.”
Silence.
Then, abruptly, the door opened, revealing a man clad in similar attire as Takaba whose face he’d barely known. They had met once, long before this Itou guy deemed him skilled enough to join the production crew. He was a decent looking man in his thirties. They stared at one another a second too long before Itou decidedly broke the ice by conjuring a hand to shake.
“Takaba Akihito, nice to meet you.”
The younger man immediately shook his direct supervisor’s hand, again, bowing slightly in the process. “Nice to meet you, Itou-san. Thank you for hiring me as part of your team.”
Just like Miyuki did previously, Itou gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, “It was long overdue, Takaba. I should’ve hired you two years earlier.”
The three of them continued to communicate with one another throughout the day. Takaba was shown around by another junior employee, Hiromu Araki, made acquaintances with two more of his six personnel team, Kuroda Megumi and Takahashi Hattori, and ended up in a studio that he’d often be working in as a photographer. Miyuki gave him some details on the current project they were taking, along with miniscule details like which models from which agencies they’d be dealing with today and how to cooperate with them.
Takaba’s first job was fulfilling but none the less draining. After a brief two-hour introduction before lunch, he was thrown into Kemushi’s everyday workflow full force. He had worked himself to the bone by eight that night. The work had consisted of taking photographs on four models from three modeling agencies for a biweekly teen lifestyle magazine, choosing and refining the best results for submission to his supervisor, and lastly attending a meeting regarding contents of the article they were handling. He gave everything he got, even ransacked his brain to give the best ideas he could offer. Those efforts were not unheeded because he knew Itou and Miyuki were pleased with his performance at the end of his shift.
He was in for a good record, it seemed.
***
Days went by unnoticed at Kemushi, but Takaba’s memories of the first day was still fresh, as was his kindred spirit and determination to work tirelessly. He was so close to the independence he direly sought for. Within a month, he’d received the first decent salary as an official part of Kemushi’s production team. He wouldn’t worry about buying dinner or having to trouble Kou or Takato any time soon. He’d found a decently prized apartment waiting for his arrival next week. Life had been going smoothly lately and Takaba was ecstatic he even felt like calling home.
Surfing the subways between stations had become a habit for Takaba. Ever since he worked for Kemushi, he’d been going through the same routes every single day, occasionally taking a detour to browse goods they sell in various stores. He’d skimmed almost every commodity that caught his attention, most of them were either menswear or food. At the end, though, when he possessed the ability to do something about it, he dropped by a particular camera store.
Tonight would be the tenth time he visited, too often coming and going empty handed that the clerk shot him a bored stare the moment he entered. Takaba smiled sheepishly and awkwardly waved his palm at him. He purposefully ignored the clerk’s stare boring onto his back to come face to face with the object of many of his fantasies.
A macro camera lens.
The latest from Nikon, his preferred brand.
Oh, how long he had been saving just for this baby. Finally, today would be the day that his budget was fulfilled.
Proudly, he sauntered to the clerk who’d long ignored his presence like a bug. Said stocky man was leaning against the glass counter when Takaba waved to get his attention. The clerk lazily turned his head toward him, “Yea?”
With a smile as bright as that which he wore on the first day of work, Takaba pointed firmly to the lens. “I want-”
Less than a second, the clerk got right up and walked to him. Takaba brightened up as he saw a welcoming smile on the usually stoic clerk’s face.
“I want that-”
Then the clerk walked past him.
Toward another customer.
Slightly humiliated, Takaba turned around. He was pissed royal, sparing a single glance against his competitor, and it almost made him double over. He was torn between wanting to chase the clerk for ignoring him right away and staring agape, for something much more interesting caught his attention.
The other customer had golden irises, in the most intense color he had ever come across, and those molten metal was staring right back at him.