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writetomyheart2019-10-08 12:00 am
faded-lace.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2019-10-08 12:00 am
Entry tags:
[Team Three] long days
Well, I wasn't expecting to start liking HiHi Jets, but here we are. After watching all of their YouTube videos and such, I continue to be amazed by what good, hardworking, generally kind, polite and considerate kids they are, so I wanted to show that a little bit here. Also, having been a Johnny's fan for many years now, it's really hard to believe that Mizuki and Hashimocchan are almost 19 and have already graduated high school, lol.
“We still have nearly eleven hours to go before it's time to leave,” Mizuki says with a roll of both his eyes and his shoulders, nudging Hashimoto's weight away from where he had dramatically let himself fall to rest against Mizuki's side with a heavy sigh and an "I'm tired, I wanna go home~" moments earlier. It's 9:30 am, and they've all just arrived at EX Theatre within the past half hour or so to start getting ready for the morning walk-through at 10 before the audience starts being let in at noon for today's 1 pm Summer Station performance-- it's the summer routine, really, by now. Show up early, start to get ready, walk through all the corrections and changes from the day previous, eat, warm up, and then hair, makeup, costume, and go... they know the drill, and even if the timeline changes slightly from show to show and venue to venue, it's not exactly like Mizuki and Hashimoto are new to the whole ordeal. In fact, they're fast approaching their respective tenth anniversaries in the agency... so, Mizuki thinks, Hashimoto has no excuse for behaving like a spoiled child when really, he's the most senior out of their entire group.
"But I'm tired," Hashimoto whines, ignoring Mizuki's attempts to get him off of him and leaning to rest his head on Mizuki's shoulder once again, making eye contact with him in the mirror as Mizuki gets started on his makeup. "I was up late last night, and now I'm sleepy, and I don't wanna go to rehearsal..."
"Well whose choice was it to stay up late last night knowing we had to be here at nine this morning?" Mizuki shoots back, giving up on getting Hashimoto to stop laying on him in favor of focusing on applying foundation during the limited time they have before rehearsal starts. He knows they'll have time to fix their hair and makeup later, but once the flow of things gets underway leading up to the show, he doesn't like to be left rushing at the last minute, so he does his best to get the majority of his prep out of the way in the morning and save their window of time before the show begins for finishing touches and touchups. He's focused on his own face in the mirror as he meticulously applies liquid and then powder, and it's only once he's finished that he glances to the side and catches Hashimoto making kissy faces at him. He sighs, rolls his eyes again, and elbows him a little harder this time before reaching across the counter for his eyeshadow palette, effectively making his shoulder out of reach for further head-resting as he adds, "What was so important that you were up and texting me at 2 am, anyway??"
Hashimoto pouts for a moment after being displaced, but settles for slouching down in his chair and adjusting the position of his baseball cap so that he can still easily catch Mizuki's gaze in the mirror. At Mizuki's question, however, his expression changes to that damn self-satisfied flashy grin he always has as he responds, "Well, you were answering!"
Mizuki shoots him a glare mid-eyeshadow application before refocusing on the task at hand. "I," he begins emphatically, pausing as he finishes with the pink on his left eye and moves to his right, "was rehearsing the corrections from yesterday at home before bed, so I had a reason for being awake. In fact, I might have gotten done sooner if someone hadn't been texting me stupid questions every five minutes!"
He's expecting some sort of rebuttal, but his attention is distracted as he switches to the next color of eyeshadow and eyeliner to complete the look, and by the time he remembers Hashimoto's presence once he's finished with his eye makeup, a few minutes have already passed. He assumes that Hashimoto must have fallen asleep in his chair or something, but when he glances over, he's still sitting there, looking at Mizuki with an expression that Mizuki can't read.
"What?" Mizuki says, unnerved-- he likes to think that he can read Hashimoto's moods and expressions pretty much all the time, after ten years together, and besides, it's not exactly like Hashimoto is a particularly deep or nuanced individual. But to his surprise, when he makes eye contact in the mirror, Hashimoto suddenly looks away, pressing his lips together in what almost looks like a remorseful away.
"...I guess... I dunno. My bad," he says quietly, pure and stupidly honest as always, and somehow, Mizuki suddenly feels like he's the one in the wrong.
...
Despite the fact that he always tells himself he'll use the extra time for more rehearsal, even if it's just by himself in the hall, Mizuki takes the extra half hour or so they have between shows for a nap. His schedule is a little easier now that he (and Hashimoto) have graduated from high school, even if classes at Horikoshi weren't exactly a huge time commitment, but even so, there were never enough rehearsals leading up to a Juniors-only show like this, and so from the beginning of the Summer Station run, Mizuki had once again found himself staying up late into the night rehearsing at home until he felt comfortable with the choreography-- it wasn't so much a choice as a compulsion. He knows that there are all types in Johnny's and even in their group, those who can easily wing it, and those for whom, conversely, being a little vague on the choreography is their charm, but Mizuki can't possibly imagine going onstage without perfect confidence in his ability to do all of the choreography, pull off all the skating tricks, sing all of the songs without fault. That's his charm point anyway, right? And he's the one everyone watches for the timing and the choreography, he's the one who they all rely on, so he absolutely can't let his fans or his groupmates down.
Which leaves him confident in his ability to fill his role, his "job," basically, in the group, but also exhausted by the time 3 pm rolls around, knowing he had just gone to bed twelve hours earlier. He knows he really ought to take advantage of the set and the staff and the other members all being available, but with another six hours or so until they'll be able to leave, he can feel his energy fading too fast to push himself until that night. Luckily, with just the five of them and the 7 Men Samurai members, there are plenty of unused dressing rooms, so it's easy to slip inside one of the smaller rooms, turn the lights out, and curl up on the sofa for just a short rest. He'd gotten permission from the staff at the beginning of the run, and he knows the other members tend to do other things with their short break before dinner and the evening show, so he knows he should be undisturbed for the next half hour or so. Which is a good thing, because his head has barely hit the arm of the couch before he's starting to drift off...
...He comes to to the sound of his phone alarm informing him that thirty minutes have passed with the dulcet tones of Hey! Say! JUMP's Weekender, and groans to himself before forcing his head off the couch cushion. As always, it feels laborious to drag himself back up, but he knows he needs to eat and warm up and prepare for the evening show before it gets too late, and so he wills himself not to rub his eyes, lest he have to redo his makeup, as he forces himself into a sitting position.
It's only once he sits up that he realizes that something is different from when he went to sleep, and when he looks down, he notices a black hoodie laid out over him like a blanket. He blinks in confusion, his brain still taking some time to catch up with being awake, but when he takes a moment to consider it, there's really only one person the hoodie could possibly belong to.
Mizuki smiles to himself for a moment, gathering the sweatshirt up in his arms and letting his face fall to rest against it for a moment as he gathers up the willpower to stand, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of cheap cologne mingled together with expensive men's shampoo. He lets himself take one last moment before he force himself to his feet with a small, "okay," of encouragement to himself under his breath as he heads for the door.
He bumps into Hashimoto on his way back to the dressing room, which is just as well, honestly, because as much as Mizuki likes to think of himself as very mature and grown-up, he can't deal with saying or doing anything even marginally emotional or mushy in front of the other members. Hashimoto, for his part, seems to have stopped mid-warm-up to check his phone, and is now looking at the screening with his legs spread an awkward distance, one knee bent and his body leaning slightly to one side, as if he's doing some sort of new-wave yoga pose. "Oi," Mizuki says to catch his attention as he walks up, holding the hoodie at arm's length. "Here. This is yours, right?"
Hashimoto blinks at him for a moment as he stands up properly and puts his phone into his pocket, slow on the uptake as always, before his face lights up into that same self-satisfied grin, and Mizuki doesn't know if he wants to punch him or kiss him. "You're welcome," Hashimoto says, giving him a knowing look, and Mizuki flushes and looks away in embarrassment, distinctively leaning towards the punching option.
"Thanks," he grumbles, pursing his lips. "You didn't have to, though. I didn't even know you knew where I was."
However, he has a hard time staying annoyed when Hashimoto looks baffled for a moment in that pure, unadulterated way that he always wears his heart on his sleeve, and replies, "But I want to. I always want to know where you are, and I always want to do stuff to help out... Because you work so hard, and I'm mostly useless, so..."
He trails off, but he keeps looking at Mizuki with those earnest puppy-dog eyes, and Mizuki's heart can't deal. "Well, don't worry yourself sick," he shoots back, moving a little closer to bump up against his side affectionately and offering a half-smile. It's a subtle gesture, but the way that Hashimoto's face lights up again in response reassures Mizuki that, even for someone as dense as Hashimoto, those ten years meant something, after all.
...
It's almost 2 am yet again by the time Mizuki finishes up his rehearsing and gets into the bath. He always tells himself he's just going to wash off and take a quick dip in the tub, but yet every time, once he feels the warm water on his aching muscles after a full day of rehearsals and performances, he can't seem to bring himself to get out. He knows that he's in danger of falling asleep in the tub, but just a few more seconds won't hurt, he tells himself, just to help sooth his muscles and joints before another long day tomorrow...
But then his phone buzzes, the sound reverberating against the bathroom counter where he'd left it, and he sighs, rolling his eyes. At 2 am, there's basically only one person who would be texting him, and there's a pretty high likelihood that the content of the message is distinctly not urgent, so despite his regular instincts, he ignores is, closing his eyes as he sinks just a little further into the hot water.
But after a few more seconds, his phone buzzes again, followed quickly by another buzz, and he opens one eye to shoot it a glare, as if somehow he can express his displeasure to the person sending the messages that way. But he knows that he can't, and so, after yet another buzz, he lets out a heavy sigh and forces himself out of the bath, toweling off and pulling on sweatpants and a T-shirt before unlocking his phone to check the four message notifications lined up in the menu, wondering what sort of inane topic of conversation Hashimoto has come up with this time.
Hey
Are you still rehearsing?
If you're still rehearsing you should go to sleep
Don't stay up too late again!
Whatever Mizuki had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that, and he can feel his face heating up even though he's the only one in the room and the only person awake in his house. "Idiot," he mumbles under his breath as he opens their LINE correspondence, greeted by a goofy selfie of the two of them together on their senior class trip to Hokkaido that, in perhaps a fit of insanity, he'd set as the wallpaper for their chat. He's conscientious about never leaving people on read, but before he has a chance to respond, yet a fifth message comes in at the bottom of the list:
I'm sorry for complaining earlier and for keeping you up last night but I wanna make sure you get enough rest because I care about you!!
And it's too much for Mizuki's heart to handle at 2 am in the middle of a long run of shows, but somehow he manages to send off a quick, "I'm going to bed now. See you tomorrow. Good night," before stuffing his phone into his pocket and going about the rest of his evening routine.
He doesn't check his phone again until he's getting into bed, checking to make sure that his alarms are all properly set for the next morning, but before he can open the clock app, he's greeted with another row of message notifications from Hashimoto that totally distract him from the task at hand and somehow simultaneously make his ears feel hot and bring a smile to his face. He stares at the screen for a few more moments, feeling like an idiot and yet unable to stop the pleasant butterflies in his chest to know that someone really cared that much about him.
Good!
Because the group couldn't do these shows without you, Mijuki!
And I definitely couldn't!!!
See you tomorrow ♡
Good night ♡♡♡
It feels incredibly stupid and high school, but despite the fact that Mizuki has known Hashimoto for practically his whole life (or maybe because of it), his sincerity and straightforwardness feels at once like Mizuki's Achilles heel and everything he needs to keep on going, even despite the long days and the packed schedule. He can't bring himself to say it, not outright (not yet), but he smiles to himself as he sends off a sleeping LINE sticker and thinks, tomorrow will be another early morning, another long day of concerts, another late night, but if he has Hashimoto by his side, he knows he make it through, no problem.
You're up,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dusk037!
“We still have nearly eleven hours to go before it's time to leave,” Mizuki says with a roll of both his eyes and his shoulders, nudging Hashimoto's weight away from where he had dramatically let himself fall to rest against Mizuki's side with a heavy sigh and an "I'm tired, I wanna go home~" moments earlier. It's 9:30 am, and they've all just arrived at EX Theatre within the past half hour or so to start getting ready for the morning walk-through at 10 before the audience starts being let in at noon for today's 1 pm Summer Station performance-- it's the summer routine, really, by now. Show up early, start to get ready, walk through all the corrections and changes from the day previous, eat, warm up, and then hair, makeup, costume, and go... they know the drill, and even if the timeline changes slightly from show to show and venue to venue, it's not exactly like Mizuki and Hashimoto are new to the whole ordeal. In fact, they're fast approaching their respective tenth anniversaries in the agency... so, Mizuki thinks, Hashimoto has no excuse for behaving like a spoiled child when really, he's the most senior out of their entire group.
"But I'm tired," Hashimoto whines, ignoring Mizuki's attempts to get him off of him and leaning to rest his head on Mizuki's shoulder once again, making eye contact with him in the mirror as Mizuki gets started on his makeup. "I was up late last night, and now I'm sleepy, and I don't wanna go to rehearsal..."
"Well whose choice was it to stay up late last night knowing we had to be here at nine this morning?" Mizuki shoots back, giving up on getting Hashimoto to stop laying on him in favor of focusing on applying foundation during the limited time they have before rehearsal starts. He knows they'll have time to fix their hair and makeup later, but once the flow of things gets underway leading up to the show, he doesn't like to be left rushing at the last minute, so he does his best to get the majority of his prep out of the way in the morning and save their window of time before the show begins for finishing touches and touchups. He's focused on his own face in the mirror as he meticulously applies liquid and then powder, and it's only once he's finished that he glances to the side and catches Hashimoto making kissy faces at him. He sighs, rolls his eyes again, and elbows him a little harder this time before reaching across the counter for his eyeshadow palette, effectively making his shoulder out of reach for further head-resting as he adds, "What was so important that you were up and texting me at 2 am, anyway??"
Hashimoto pouts for a moment after being displaced, but settles for slouching down in his chair and adjusting the position of his baseball cap so that he can still easily catch Mizuki's gaze in the mirror. At Mizuki's question, however, his expression changes to that damn self-satisfied flashy grin he always has as he responds, "Well, you were answering!"
Mizuki shoots him a glare mid-eyeshadow application before refocusing on the task at hand. "I," he begins emphatically, pausing as he finishes with the pink on his left eye and moves to his right, "was rehearsing the corrections from yesterday at home before bed, so I had a reason for being awake. In fact, I might have gotten done sooner if someone hadn't been texting me stupid questions every five minutes!"
He's expecting some sort of rebuttal, but his attention is distracted as he switches to the next color of eyeshadow and eyeliner to complete the look, and by the time he remembers Hashimoto's presence once he's finished with his eye makeup, a few minutes have already passed. He assumes that Hashimoto must have fallen asleep in his chair or something, but when he glances over, he's still sitting there, looking at Mizuki with an expression that Mizuki can't read.
"What?" Mizuki says, unnerved-- he likes to think that he can read Hashimoto's moods and expressions pretty much all the time, after ten years together, and besides, it's not exactly like Hashimoto is a particularly deep or nuanced individual. But to his surprise, when he makes eye contact in the mirror, Hashimoto suddenly looks away, pressing his lips together in what almost looks like a remorseful away.
"...I guess... I dunno. My bad," he says quietly, pure and stupidly honest as always, and somehow, Mizuki suddenly feels like he's the one in the wrong.
...
Despite the fact that he always tells himself he'll use the extra time for more rehearsal, even if it's just by himself in the hall, Mizuki takes the extra half hour or so they have between shows for a nap. His schedule is a little easier now that he (and Hashimoto) have graduated from high school, even if classes at Horikoshi weren't exactly a huge time commitment, but even so, there were never enough rehearsals leading up to a Juniors-only show like this, and so from the beginning of the Summer Station run, Mizuki had once again found himself staying up late into the night rehearsing at home until he felt comfortable with the choreography-- it wasn't so much a choice as a compulsion. He knows that there are all types in Johnny's and even in their group, those who can easily wing it, and those for whom, conversely, being a little vague on the choreography is their charm, but Mizuki can't possibly imagine going onstage without perfect confidence in his ability to do all of the choreography, pull off all the skating tricks, sing all of the songs without fault. That's his charm point anyway, right? And he's the one everyone watches for the timing and the choreography, he's the one who they all rely on, so he absolutely can't let his fans or his groupmates down.
Which leaves him confident in his ability to fill his role, his "job," basically, in the group, but also exhausted by the time 3 pm rolls around, knowing he had just gone to bed twelve hours earlier. He knows he really ought to take advantage of the set and the staff and the other members all being available, but with another six hours or so until they'll be able to leave, he can feel his energy fading too fast to push himself until that night. Luckily, with just the five of them and the 7 Men Samurai members, there are plenty of unused dressing rooms, so it's easy to slip inside one of the smaller rooms, turn the lights out, and curl up on the sofa for just a short rest. He'd gotten permission from the staff at the beginning of the run, and he knows the other members tend to do other things with their short break before dinner and the evening show, so he knows he should be undisturbed for the next half hour or so. Which is a good thing, because his head has barely hit the arm of the couch before he's starting to drift off...
...He comes to to the sound of his phone alarm informing him that thirty minutes have passed with the dulcet tones of Hey! Say! JUMP's Weekender, and groans to himself before forcing his head off the couch cushion. As always, it feels laborious to drag himself back up, but he knows he needs to eat and warm up and prepare for the evening show before it gets too late, and so he wills himself not to rub his eyes, lest he have to redo his makeup, as he forces himself into a sitting position.
It's only once he sits up that he realizes that something is different from when he went to sleep, and when he looks down, he notices a black hoodie laid out over him like a blanket. He blinks in confusion, his brain still taking some time to catch up with being awake, but when he takes a moment to consider it, there's really only one person the hoodie could possibly belong to.
Mizuki smiles to himself for a moment, gathering the sweatshirt up in his arms and letting his face fall to rest against it for a moment as he gathers up the willpower to stand, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of cheap cologne mingled together with expensive men's shampoo. He lets himself take one last moment before he force himself to his feet with a small, "okay," of encouragement to himself under his breath as he heads for the door.
He bumps into Hashimoto on his way back to the dressing room, which is just as well, honestly, because as much as Mizuki likes to think of himself as very mature and grown-up, he can't deal with saying or doing anything even marginally emotional or mushy in front of the other members. Hashimoto, for his part, seems to have stopped mid-warm-up to check his phone, and is now looking at the screening with his legs spread an awkward distance, one knee bent and his body leaning slightly to one side, as if he's doing some sort of new-wave yoga pose. "Oi," Mizuki says to catch his attention as he walks up, holding the hoodie at arm's length. "Here. This is yours, right?"
Hashimoto blinks at him for a moment as he stands up properly and puts his phone into his pocket, slow on the uptake as always, before his face lights up into that same self-satisfied grin, and Mizuki doesn't know if he wants to punch him or kiss him. "You're welcome," Hashimoto says, giving him a knowing look, and Mizuki flushes and looks away in embarrassment, distinctively leaning towards the punching option.
"Thanks," he grumbles, pursing his lips. "You didn't have to, though. I didn't even know you knew where I was."
However, he has a hard time staying annoyed when Hashimoto looks baffled for a moment in that pure, unadulterated way that he always wears his heart on his sleeve, and replies, "But I want to. I always want to know where you are, and I always want to do stuff to help out... Because you work so hard, and I'm mostly useless, so..."
He trails off, but he keeps looking at Mizuki with those earnest puppy-dog eyes, and Mizuki's heart can't deal. "Well, don't worry yourself sick," he shoots back, moving a little closer to bump up against his side affectionately and offering a half-smile. It's a subtle gesture, but the way that Hashimoto's face lights up again in response reassures Mizuki that, even for someone as dense as Hashimoto, those ten years meant something, after all.
...
It's almost 2 am yet again by the time Mizuki finishes up his rehearsing and gets into the bath. He always tells himself he's just going to wash off and take a quick dip in the tub, but yet every time, once he feels the warm water on his aching muscles after a full day of rehearsals and performances, he can't seem to bring himself to get out. He knows that he's in danger of falling asleep in the tub, but just a few more seconds won't hurt, he tells himself, just to help sooth his muscles and joints before another long day tomorrow...
But then his phone buzzes, the sound reverberating against the bathroom counter where he'd left it, and he sighs, rolling his eyes. At 2 am, there's basically only one person who would be texting him, and there's a pretty high likelihood that the content of the message is distinctly not urgent, so despite his regular instincts, he ignores is, closing his eyes as he sinks just a little further into the hot water.
But after a few more seconds, his phone buzzes again, followed quickly by another buzz, and he opens one eye to shoot it a glare, as if somehow he can express his displeasure to the person sending the messages that way. But he knows that he can't, and so, after yet another buzz, he lets out a heavy sigh and forces himself out of the bath, toweling off and pulling on sweatpants and a T-shirt before unlocking his phone to check the four message notifications lined up in the menu, wondering what sort of inane topic of conversation Hashimoto has come up with this time.
Hey
Are you still rehearsing?
If you're still rehearsing you should go to sleep
Don't stay up too late again!
Whatever Mizuki had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that, and he can feel his face heating up even though he's the only one in the room and the only person awake in his house. "Idiot," he mumbles under his breath as he opens their LINE correspondence, greeted by a goofy selfie of the two of them together on their senior class trip to Hokkaido that, in perhaps a fit of insanity, he'd set as the wallpaper for their chat. He's conscientious about never leaving people on read, but before he has a chance to respond, yet a fifth message comes in at the bottom of the list:
I'm sorry for complaining earlier and for keeping you up last night but I wanna make sure you get enough rest because I care about you!!
And it's too much for Mizuki's heart to handle at 2 am in the middle of a long run of shows, but somehow he manages to send off a quick, "I'm going to bed now. See you tomorrow. Good night," before stuffing his phone into his pocket and going about the rest of his evening routine.
He doesn't check his phone again until he's getting into bed, checking to make sure that his alarms are all properly set for the next morning, but before he can open the clock app, he's greeted with another row of message notifications from Hashimoto that totally distract him from the task at hand and somehow simultaneously make his ears feel hot and bring a smile to his face. He stares at the screen for a few more moments, feeling like an idiot and yet unable to stop the pleasant butterflies in his chest to know that someone really cared that much about him.
Good!
Because the group couldn't do these shows without you, Mijuki!
And I definitely couldn't!!!
See you tomorrow ♡
Good night ♡♡♡
It feels incredibly stupid and high school, but despite the fact that Mizuki has known Hashimoto for practically his whole life (or maybe because of it), his sincerity and straightforwardness feels at once like Mizuki's Achilles heel and everything he needs to keep on going, even despite the long days and the packed schedule. He can't bring himself to say it, not outright (not yet), but he smiles to himself as he sends off a sleeping LINE sticker and thinks, tomorrow will be another early morning, another long day of concerts, another late night, but if he has Hashimoto by his side, he knows he make it through, no problem.
You're up,
dusk037!