[Bernie-Chan] FANFIC: Wasurenai {1/1}
Nov. 15th, 2008 09:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
euphoric_zoneTitle: Wasurenai
Pairing: -
Summary: Arashi has disbanded, but the memories of the times they've spent together will never disappear. No matter how hard he tried to lock them away, they still return to haunt him.
(This was written to convey the feelings of one of the Arashi members. It is based on no one in particular, so you may safely assume that this fanfiction can apply to any one of the five.)
Disclaimer: I do not own any members of Arashi, though I wish I did.
P.S. The following is a work of fiction. This fanfiction is also part of a challenge to myself to write fanfictions based on Arashi song titles (and or their meaning), and was based on the song title "Wasurenai (忘れられない)" and also loosely on it's lyrics.
---
Wasureru (わすれる or 忘れる)
It's not that he missed the entertainment bussiness. He was happy, elated actually, to have left it. Or was he?
When he walked in the streets, whether it was to head to the nearby combini to buy some snacks or to head to the news stand to buy a magazine, people stared. Girls, in particular, stared hard. They would whisper to each other, and give him icy glares.
"There he is, the one who broke up Arashi."
"How could he do such a cruel thing?"
"Why someone would want to leave Arashi is one thing, but causing it to disband is another."
"Selfish bastard."
He could hear their accusing words ringing in his ears, and feel their glares upon his back. Damnit, was it too much to ask just to be left alone!? He didn't want to cause so much upset, heck, Arashi could probably have done as well without him anyway. Trust those idiots to decide that Arashi would not be Arashi without him. It was either he stay or nothing. In a way, it had been a joint decision, but his conscience kept nagging at him that he had been the catalyst. He had been the one to break up the group.
He slammed his fist against the wall. He cursed. Was it too much? Was it too fucking much just to ask for peace? His mailbox contained angry hate mail again, and he flung it to the floor. How fans had reached him where he lived was simple enough to figure out. Most mail had come care of the jimusho, probably sent to him as a cruel joke. He picked up the letters, not bothering to open them (he had received enough to know it contained slander about him; and the occasional photoshopped picture), and ripped each one into tiny little shreds. A small, minuscule more like, smirk appeared on his lips but disappeared almost immediately as he heard an Arashi song played on the radio. He recognized the catchy tune almost immediately.
"Happiness." he whispered grimly as memories flooded back to him.
Flashes of their variety shows played in his mind, of C, D and G no Arashi and the newer ones, VS Arashi, Himitsu no Arashi-chan and Arashi no Shukudai-kun. Flashes of their concerts, of the crowd screaming their names, waving their uchiwas frantically and screaming for encores.
"ARASHI! ARASHI! ARASHI!"
He could hear the shouts clearly in his mind, as if he was standing on the concert stage again, and he remembered how they had fed off the energy of the crowd, of the screaming fans. How they had fed off their presence and gave them one heck of a show. He could remember it clearly, all too clearly. He could picture the five of them dancing, jumping on stage, grining, laughing and having a ball of a time.
He sighed, ruffled his hair (which was as unkempt as it was since he woke up that morning) and plonked down in front of his laptop. He found the days passing by slowly, and had turned to the internet to wittle his hours away. It was difficult to resist the urge to type 嵐 into the search box. What popped up was expected, fans asking for a comeback tour, appeals for Arashi to return and of course, complaints about him. He sighed, surfing through random forums, reading what fans had to say about them.
He found the occasional fan supporting his and the rest of Arashi's decision.
"If they've decided that they've had enough, they've had enough. The paparazzi can be bad enough but if we, their fans do not support their decision, then who will? We have to respect their wishes for a quiet, peaceful life, a life away from the entertainment business. Please stop slandering him for initiating the break up."
But for each supporting comment or post he found, there were dozens more that condemned him, that called him all sorts of names. He felt a growl leave his lips. Was he not human too? Did he not deserve to be respected? He was not trash that was thrown into the streets - he was human and had feelings just like them.
He slammed the laptop shut, the last straw being ten successive direct insults at him and a photoshopped picture of him as Hard Gay poledancing. He was cursing now, slamming his fists against the wall again.
"Those fuckers, why can't they fucking leave me alone!?"
Alone. That was all he had wanted in the beginning, to be left alone,and have quiet and peace. The hectic schedules were torturing, and it felt as if there was a never ending list of things to do.
Filming in the morning. Appearance on a television show. Filming for an advertisement. Another appearance. Interview with a magazine. Dinner with potential partners or sponsors.
There was never time for sleep, alone time, let alone searching for a wife. It was as if no one considered their feelings, their desires as a kid to settle down and have families of their own. It was difficult enough to find someone to like him for himself, not the celebrity he was. It did not help that the paparazzi liked to make up ridiculous stories and scandals that were never based on truth.
He knew that he had been living a facade, all those years. When the cameras were on, it was as if someone has pressed a button and the "celebrity" in him would appear, his own personality passively lying dormant. On camera, every move is exaggerated, and of course, there is need for fan service every now and then. On camera, things you say have to be funny, you need to fit the "personality moulds" that have been created for each member.
Ohno Satoshi - The Riidaa, spaced out and dreaming most of the time; quiet and can eat almost anything.
Ninomiya Kazunari - Game addict, never far from his DS and always touching Ohno. A snarky remark is never far from his lips, and he's stingy as hell, never offering to pay. Never. The prankster of the bunch.
Matsumoto Jun - The 'hime' of the bunch, ever popular and the one who attracts fangirls to Arashi in the first place
Sakurai Sho - The smartest of the bunch, a Keio graduate and the one who acts the most 'leader-like', often the one who has to salvage losing situations (not unlike the Haneru no Tobira SP epic fail of a tragedy)
Aiba Masaki - The most baka and energetic of them all, and undoubtedly the most hentai/perverted of the group. Honestly, who could forget that mushroom incident on Arashi no Shukudai-kun?
The fans want to see them do embarassing things, the fans want to see them when they're high and the fans expect to be entertained. They expect them to be able to dance, to be able to sing and to be able to have the perfect body in photoshoots. They're expected to be gorgeous twenty-four hours, seven days a week.
They're supposed to be prefect, or at least try their utmost to acheive perfection one way or another.
The entertainment industry was fucking screwed up. It was no wonder he had wanted to leave. But would anyone see it his way? No. Would anyone reason with him? No. Would anyone bother to ask if he was alright? No. Would anyone want to keep in his company? No.
His cellphone buzzed and he picked it up, eyes widening as he read the contents of the text. They were having a gathering, for old times sake. Arashi was meeting again.
The ramen shop was noisy, as expected, with five boys crammed into a table and food all spread out and ready to be eaten. The shop wasn't exactly packed, but not empty either, with just the right amount of privacy for them to go crazy with the sake and not have to worry about appearing as an idol.
They weren't idols any more, just shadows of their former popularity.
A glass was raised in the air. A toast.
"In honor of Arashi, and what fun we had back then!"
The clink of glasses rang melodiously in his ears and he grinned. Meeting each other like this, gathering here like this was fun. It was nostalgic too, recalling the times they had been like this, as one whole unit, one group.
It was times like this, times when they were not there as Arashi, but there as a group of friends. A tight knit group of five friends. Friends who had become so close that nakedness was nothing. Please, they had showered and been to onsens together countless times. They even compared underwear brands.
It was good, it felt good, being there as friends and not having the pressure of being Arashi on their shoulders. They could eat, drink and be as rowdy as they wanted.
They talked of what they were up to now, some embarking on solo projects, some deciding to take things easy and try to settle down. He was smiling as he heard of what the rest of them were doing. When they turned to ask him what he was up to, he took a while to reply.
"Nothing much," he began, before realising how empty his life felt. "Nothing at all, really."
He was about to leave it at that, but decided to spill what had been lingering in his mind for the past year.
"It's lonely, being all alone. It makes me feel lost."
The rest of the members, hearing what he had to say, looked back at him, pity and understanding in their eyes.
"I get what you mean. I used to hate being so busy, having so little time to sleep. But now, I miss being busy. I miss filming together, it's like being busy was a fundemental part of our lives. A huge part. It feels like something is missing now, like a crater is there. An Arashi shaped hole."
"It's not fun without everyone. I remember waking up thinking that we've got a photoshoot together, being so happy and looking forward to seeing everyone again. Then I remember that Arashi is no more and I can no longer smile."
"It feels...void, without Arashi, doesn't it?"
"Life used to be for Arashi, with Arashi as the pushing force, but now that what was Arashi is now gone, I don't know what there is to do now, like the meaning to live each day passionately is gone."
He purses his lips, and contemplates for a moment.
"What is life after Arashi?" he asks.
The mood has turned grim, and no one is laughing, or smiling anymore. Trust himself to kill the mood. The beer and sake seemed to dry up quicker than expected as the five boys downed five more rounds. The burning sensation of the sake down his throat is comforting and he thinks naught of the hangover he is likely to have the next morning.
They toast one last time, to discovering a new purpose after Arashi, to a fresh start in life. And then, they say their goodbyes and head their own individual ways.
What used to be one, is now five.
Back home, his gaze lingers on the photo of Arashi he has on the table. All five of them are grinning at the camera, beaming and glowing with pure happiness. Other photos of them are framed and line the shelves in the living room of his apartment, and he gazes wistfully at the reminders of the past. He feels wave after wave of deja vu sweep over him as he looks at each photo.
Finally, his eyes land on an old photo of them, when they had just debuted. Five innocent faces stare back at him, pure joy radiating off their faces. He smiles, tears blurring his vision.
Yes, Arashi is no more. They are now five individuals struggling to find a new way, to find their new path. Arashi is no more, but his life had been Arashi, his life had revolved around Arashi. His life was Arashi.
He placed the photo face down on the shelf. The memories would always remain, and no matter how hard he tried to shut them out, they would remain there, deeply embeded in the crevices of his mind. He may try to forget, but he never will. He wants to forget, but he cannot.
"Wasurenai." he hoarsly whispers, slamming his left fist onto the already well battered wall.
"Wasurenai." he repeats again, and his other fist slams into the wall.
***
A/N: I got this idea whilst doing some chores, totally random, ne? I suppose I was influenced by the angst from a book I read earlier today, so this is what I came up with. I don't know if I did a good job of conveying feelings of anger and slight regret in this, so comments are totally loved and greatly appreciated.
I think I shall make up for all the angst and the sadness from Wish by writing more fluff or happy, 'nothing-is-wrong-in-this-world' fanfictions. All this gloom is getting to me too. =/
Come to think of it after reading it again, I think there is a bit of Ouran High Host Club mixed inside this. Book 11, where Hikaru and Kaoru try and discover themselves. The feeling of the "What used to be one, is now five." and the splitting of one into five is not unlike Hikaru and Kaoru being born from the same seed and blossoming itno two different and unique flowers.
Woah. I'm amazing myself now. O_O
P.S. I've already thought of a sequel to this, and just as a lil bit of a spoiler, the title is "Once Again".
---
Enjoy!~
-Bernie
Pairing: -
Summary: Arashi has disbanded, but the memories of the times they've spent together will never disappear. No matter how hard he tried to lock them away, they still return to haunt him.
(This was written to convey the feelings of one of the Arashi members. It is based on no one in particular, so you may safely assume that this fanfiction can apply to any one of the five.)
Disclaimer: I do not own any members of Arashi, though I wish I did.
P.S. The following is a work of fiction. This fanfiction is also part of a challenge to myself to write fanfictions based on Arashi song titles (and or their meaning), and was based on the song title "Wasurenai (忘れられない)" and also loosely on it's lyrics.
---
Wasureru (わすれる or 忘れる)
- Forget
- Leave behind
It's not that he missed the entertainment bussiness. He was happy, elated actually, to have left it. Or was he?
When he walked in the streets, whether it was to head to the nearby combini to buy some snacks or to head to the news stand to buy a magazine, people stared. Girls, in particular, stared hard. They would whisper to each other, and give him icy glares.
"There he is, the one who broke up Arashi."
"How could he do such a cruel thing?"
"Why someone would want to leave Arashi is one thing, but causing it to disband is another."
"Selfish bastard."
He could hear their accusing words ringing in his ears, and feel their glares upon his back. Damnit, was it too much to ask just to be left alone!? He didn't want to cause so much upset, heck, Arashi could probably have done as well without him anyway. Trust those idiots to decide that Arashi would not be Arashi without him. It was either he stay or nothing. In a way, it had been a joint decision, but his conscience kept nagging at him that he had been the catalyst. He had been the one to break up the group.
He slammed his fist against the wall. He cursed. Was it too much? Was it too fucking much just to ask for peace? His mailbox contained angry hate mail again, and he flung it to the floor. How fans had reached him where he lived was simple enough to figure out. Most mail had come care of the jimusho, probably sent to him as a cruel joke. He picked up the letters, not bothering to open them (he had received enough to know it contained slander about him; and the occasional photoshopped picture), and ripped each one into tiny little shreds. A small, minuscule more like, smirk appeared on his lips but disappeared almost immediately as he heard an Arashi song played on the radio. He recognized the catchy tune almost immediately.
"Happiness." he whispered grimly as memories flooded back to him.
Flashes of their variety shows played in his mind, of C, D and G no Arashi and the newer ones, VS Arashi, Himitsu no Arashi-chan and Arashi no Shukudai-kun. Flashes of their concerts, of the crowd screaming their names, waving their uchiwas frantically and screaming for encores.
"ARASHI! ARASHI! ARASHI!"
He could hear the shouts clearly in his mind, as if he was standing on the concert stage again, and he remembered how they had fed off the energy of the crowd, of the screaming fans. How they had fed off their presence and gave them one heck of a show. He could remember it clearly, all too clearly. He could picture the five of them dancing, jumping on stage, grining, laughing and having a ball of a time.
He sighed, ruffled his hair (which was as unkempt as it was since he woke up that morning) and plonked down in front of his laptop. He found the days passing by slowly, and had turned to the internet to wittle his hours away. It was difficult to resist the urge to type 嵐 into the search box. What popped up was expected, fans asking for a comeback tour, appeals for Arashi to return and of course, complaints about him. He sighed, surfing through random forums, reading what fans had to say about them.
He found the occasional fan supporting his and the rest of Arashi's decision.
"If they've decided that they've had enough, they've had enough. The paparazzi can be bad enough but if we, their fans do not support their decision, then who will? We have to respect their wishes for a quiet, peaceful life, a life away from the entertainment business. Please stop slandering him for initiating the break up."
But for each supporting comment or post he found, there were dozens more that condemned him, that called him all sorts of names. He felt a growl leave his lips. Was he not human too? Did he not deserve to be respected? He was not trash that was thrown into the streets - he was human and had feelings just like them.
He slammed the laptop shut, the last straw being ten successive direct insults at him and a photoshopped picture of him as Hard Gay poledancing. He was cursing now, slamming his fists against the wall again.
"Those fuckers, why can't they fucking leave me alone!?"
Alone. That was all he had wanted in the beginning, to be left alone,and have quiet and peace. The hectic schedules were torturing, and it felt as if there was a never ending list of things to do.
Filming in the morning. Appearance on a television show. Filming for an advertisement. Another appearance. Interview with a magazine. Dinner with potential partners or sponsors.
There was never time for sleep, alone time, let alone searching for a wife. It was as if no one considered their feelings, their desires as a kid to settle down and have families of their own. It was difficult enough to find someone to like him for himself, not the celebrity he was. It did not help that the paparazzi liked to make up ridiculous stories and scandals that were never based on truth.
He knew that he had been living a facade, all those years. When the cameras were on, it was as if someone has pressed a button and the "celebrity" in him would appear, his own personality passively lying dormant. On camera, every move is exaggerated, and of course, there is need for fan service every now and then. On camera, things you say have to be funny, you need to fit the "personality moulds" that have been created for each member.
Ohno Satoshi - The Riidaa, spaced out and dreaming most of the time; quiet and can eat almost anything.
Ninomiya Kazunari - Game addict, never far from his DS and always touching Ohno. A snarky remark is never far from his lips, and he's stingy as hell, never offering to pay. Never. The prankster of the bunch.
Matsumoto Jun - The 'hime' of the bunch, ever popular and the one who attracts fangirls to Arashi in the first place
Sakurai Sho - The smartest of the bunch, a Keio graduate and the one who acts the most 'leader-like', often the one who has to salvage losing situations (not unlike the Haneru no Tobira SP epic fail of a tragedy)
Aiba Masaki - The most baka and energetic of them all, and undoubtedly the most hentai/perverted of the group. Honestly, who could forget that mushroom incident on Arashi no Shukudai-kun?
The fans want to see them do embarassing things, the fans want to see them when they're high and the fans expect to be entertained. They expect them to be able to dance, to be able to sing and to be able to have the perfect body in photoshoots. They're expected to be gorgeous twenty-four hours, seven days a week.
They're supposed to be prefect, or at least try their utmost to acheive perfection one way or another.
The entertainment industry was fucking screwed up. It was no wonder he had wanted to leave. But would anyone see it his way? No. Would anyone reason with him? No. Would anyone bother to ask if he was alright? No. Would anyone want to keep in his company? No.
His cellphone buzzed and he picked it up, eyes widening as he read the contents of the text. They were having a gathering, for old times sake. Arashi was meeting again.
The ramen shop was noisy, as expected, with five boys crammed into a table and food all spread out and ready to be eaten. The shop wasn't exactly packed, but not empty either, with just the right amount of privacy for them to go crazy with the sake and not have to worry about appearing as an idol.
They weren't idols any more, just shadows of their former popularity.
A glass was raised in the air. A toast.
"In honor of Arashi, and what fun we had back then!"
The clink of glasses rang melodiously in his ears and he grinned. Meeting each other like this, gathering here like this was fun. It was nostalgic too, recalling the times they had been like this, as one whole unit, one group.
It was times like this, times when they were not there as Arashi, but there as a group of friends. A tight knit group of five friends. Friends who had become so close that nakedness was nothing. Please, they had showered and been to onsens together countless times. They even compared underwear brands.
It was good, it felt good, being there as friends and not having the pressure of being Arashi on their shoulders. They could eat, drink and be as rowdy as they wanted.
They talked of what they were up to now, some embarking on solo projects, some deciding to take things easy and try to settle down. He was smiling as he heard of what the rest of them were doing. When they turned to ask him what he was up to, he took a while to reply.
"Nothing much," he began, before realising how empty his life felt. "Nothing at all, really."
He was about to leave it at that, but decided to spill what had been lingering in his mind for the past year.
"It's lonely, being all alone. It makes me feel lost."
The rest of the members, hearing what he had to say, looked back at him, pity and understanding in their eyes.
"I get what you mean. I used to hate being so busy, having so little time to sleep. But now, I miss being busy. I miss filming together, it's like being busy was a fundemental part of our lives. A huge part. It feels like something is missing now, like a crater is there. An Arashi shaped hole."
"It's not fun without everyone. I remember waking up thinking that we've got a photoshoot together, being so happy and looking forward to seeing everyone again. Then I remember that Arashi is no more and I can no longer smile."
"It feels...void, without Arashi, doesn't it?"
"Life used to be for Arashi, with Arashi as the pushing force, but now that what was Arashi is now gone, I don't know what there is to do now, like the meaning to live each day passionately is gone."
He purses his lips, and contemplates for a moment.
"What is life after Arashi?" he asks.
The mood has turned grim, and no one is laughing, or smiling anymore. Trust himself to kill the mood. The beer and sake seemed to dry up quicker than expected as the five boys downed five more rounds. The burning sensation of the sake down his throat is comforting and he thinks naught of the hangover he is likely to have the next morning.
They toast one last time, to discovering a new purpose after Arashi, to a fresh start in life. And then, they say their goodbyes and head their own individual ways.
What used to be one, is now five.
Back home, his gaze lingers on the photo of Arashi he has on the table. All five of them are grinning at the camera, beaming and glowing with pure happiness. Other photos of them are framed and line the shelves in the living room of his apartment, and he gazes wistfully at the reminders of the past. He feels wave after wave of deja vu sweep over him as he looks at each photo.
Finally, his eyes land on an old photo of them, when they had just debuted. Five innocent faces stare back at him, pure joy radiating off their faces. He smiles, tears blurring his vision.
Yes, Arashi is no more. They are now five individuals struggling to find a new way, to find their new path. Arashi is no more, but his life had been Arashi, his life had revolved around Arashi. His life was Arashi.
He placed the photo face down on the shelf. The memories would always remain, and no matter how hard he tried to shut them out, they would remain there, deeply embeded in the crevices of his mind. He may try to forget, but he never will. He wants to forget, but he cannot.
"Wasurenai." he hoarsly whispers, slamming his left fist onto the already well battered wall.
"Wasurenai." he repeats again, and his other fist slams into the wall.
***
A/N: I got this idea whilst doing some chores, totally random, ne? I suppose I was influenced by the angst from a book I read earlier today, so this is what I came up with. I don't know if I did a good job of conveying feelings of anger and slight regret in this, so comments are totally loved and greatly appreciated.
I think I shall make up for all the angst and the sadness from Wish by writing more fluff or happy, 'nothing-is-wrong-in-this-world' fanfictions. All this gloom is getting to me too. =/
Come to think of it after reading it again, I think there is a bit of Ouran High Host Club mixed inside this. Book 11, where Hikaru and Kaoru try and discover themselves. The feeling of the "What used to be one, is now five." and the splitting of one into five is not unlike Hikaru and Kaoru being born from the same seed and blossoming itno two different and unique flowers.
Woah. I'm amazing myself now. O_O
P.S. I've already thought of a sequel to this, and just as a lil bit of a spoiler, the title is "Once Again".
---
Enjoy!~
-Bernie
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2008-11-16 12:40 am (UTC)Thank you so much, and I'm glad that at least one person can feel moved by my writing XD.