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eno-shima-jot · 4 years

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flos || haruto asuka

a/n: so.... basically i love haruto dearly as a fellow vindictive twink, and have projected onto him hard. anyways, the song this comes from is flos by R Sound Design !! i thought that it fit with a3's general theme of "blooming". if you squint really hard, you may find some mentions of transphobia, but it’s very vague !!

Greetings,

To my wishes, my future, and my incessant regrets

The dream with a fever of 38.5 ℃ eventually faded away

It was winter again. Genta was used to winters at his own home, but somehow it felt colder in Veludo Way. Things were different. Wind was guided along by the concrete buildings, gaining momentum against the hard rebound of an alleyway corner and shooting out with a low huff. At least in the countryside, the wind was more gentle. It crept up on you like a sheet of ice forming on your knuckles. The cold of Veludo Way bit at him like a territorial beast shooting out to confront an unwelcome traveller.

Well, maybe he was just that. It was stupid of him to run away and try to start over. He really did think, in the heat of the moment, that throwing himself into a world of actors in order to erase and recreate his own character was a cute and witty idea.

It just went to show how much his desire for a fairy tale adventure got in the way of his basic logic.

Greetings again,

Your thoughts, your sorrows, and your erratic emotional way of thinking

Remain trapped in the world of a 85 cm. radius

Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes at the cafe. The heat of the coffee cup thawed out his rigid fingers, and in spite of him having entered the establishment only a few minutes ago, his face already felt too warm. He ended up being one-hundred yen short when trying to get himself lunch, and even though he gracefully left the situation, embarrassment gnawed at him. His stomach bubbled with hunger. He wondered if drinking the coffee would help that, or make things worse.

He concluded bitterly that he probably should have gone with tea.

While drumming his fingers against the warmth of the paper cup, he contemplated what he was going to do. He wasn't physically strong enough to get a lucrative job carrying or making props, and he despised the thought of ever having to pick up a needle and thread again. Anything that gave him memories of the pricked fingers and the torn cloth that was in better shape than his pride repulsed him. He just didn't have the skill set. In spite of being kicked out before adulthood and having to learn to fend for himself with scarce resources, he failed to do much with the arts. Things that didn't serve him in monetary gain were discarded at that time.

His fingers twitched to a stop when a man sat across from him at the table. Everything about the man screamed sophistication and success and control. It was the kind of man that Genta wanted to gain connections to for the sake of balancing out his financial situation, but the kind of man that Genta knew to fear as well. He hadn't met much of those types in his hometown, but the few that came always seemed to leave someone in a bad predicament.

"Eating a good meal before going into the cold will help to fight it." the man said, setting a tray full of food down. Genta's eyes widened and his mouth opened to say something, but the appraising gaze that was focused onto him made him clam up again. He couldn't make a fool of himself in front of someone so important, so he set his lips into a straight line and met with the man's indigo gaze resolutely.

"Is that an offer?" Genta asked steadily. He prayed that he was able to mask the hope in his expression just as well as he could mask the hope in his voice. The suited man in front of him answered with a humourless laugh.

"Two fourty-five would be an unusual time frame for a lunch break," he said. Genta wasn't sure if he was mocking him. After a few seconds of silence, the man spoke again, "It's for you. While you eat, I would like to ask some questions."

It was suspicious, but Genta couldn't think of any better alternatives. He stiffly started to eat, first taking the warm sandwich that was cut into two triangles. The bread wasn't as dry as he would have expected for something left in a cold display case. Well, maybe he was lucky to have it freshly made.

"My name is Kamikizaka, Reni. I'm the director for GOD-za. I've seen you walking around for a few weeks now. No one who has a steady job wanders around the streets of Veludo Way so much, but wander no more. We've been looking for some new recruits." the man explained. Genta knew of this kind of thing. There were only two types of businessmen with equally shady practises. The first type ran you blindly along with enticing details and hypotheticals before moving your hand to seal the deal, and the second type hit you with the punchline right off the bat. He always preferred the latter. They were less tiring to deal with and seemed to speak the same language as him.

"I'm not really an actor," Genta said after swallowing the large bite he had taken. He wanted to savour its taste, afraid that he wouldn't get the chance to enjoy something so good again for a long time. Begrudgingly, he set his food back on the tray, knowing it would be bad to not reply in good time. It was better to tell the truth, so he said, "I came here to start over."

Reni laughed that humourless laugh again. It wasn't even mocking. It was intimidating, like the rattling warning of a rattle snake. Genta feared that he may have offended or otherwise lost favour with the man.

"A lot of people do," Reni mused, his lips pulling into a cryptic smile. "But this place isn't the gateway to your dreams... Nonetheless, I can see a future where your face becomes popular on billboards. Your inexperience means nothing, so long as you're willing to devote yourself to the job you've been given."

Of course Genta could do that. He devoted himself to learning so many things. Finances, cooking, learning his rights, familiarising himself with exploitation, setting boundaries, breaking past all limiting factors that tried to hold him back from his truth... He knew what Reni was saying, but it didn't seem like snake oil. Somehow, Genta suddenly felt passionate and determined, almost excited.

"My name is Asuka, Haruto." Genta lied. The name he had frantically made up for himself when redoing his ID was ill fitting and embarrassingly passe. It screamed of the countryside, of stagnation. A man of Reni's breeding surely would have laughed at it. Reni's smile widened and he slid Genta- no, Haruto- his business card.

"I hope to hear from you again soon then, Asuka." he said. When he left, Haruto finally felt safe to eat his food again. His chest felt tight and he wasn't sure whether it was from anxiety or anticipation.

Everything that overflowed from today, where we fractured our true feelings

Will be lit with firewood, carried by the wind and colour of the rusty sky

It would have been stupid for Haruto to assume he'd immediately get some breakout role. Reni knew that he wasn't an experienced actor. He still had his embarrassing country accent too. It was hard to mask, which made it hard for him to be on stage.

His first performances were as extras in the background with hardly any lines. It hurt his pride more than it should have because he knew he was being looked down upon again. Everyone, even the newbies of GOD-za, were all so well put together. They were like carefully crafted puppets, all on-brand shirts and trim button ups with pristine shoes. It was an unsurprising epiphany to Haruto when he realised he had to recreate himself. When he said he came to Veludo Way to start over- when Reni said that he had to be willing to devote himself to the task at hand- it all meant that he had to throw away himself and start from scratch.

The flower I carefully

Decorated for the dulled days withered in the blink of an eye

Foolish me woke up from the dream

There was no point in clinging to it

It wasn't the first time Haruto reinvented himself. He had tried so many times in the past for the sake of recognition. Even though the recognition he sought was different back then, his current struggle was similar.

Adapt to your surroundings, adopt the mannerisms of the people that are respectable, and then be recognised as respectable yourself.

Even if he fell short the first few times, getting strange looks when he introduced himself or showed people his ID, he knew he could do it again. For real, this time. He had to succeed because GOD-za was the only line he could cling to to avoid falling into poverty and more irreversible failures.

The previous version of him, Genta, always issued the first attack, always puffed himself up to look bigger than he was. People outside of the countryside waited slyly to size up their enemies first. They were coy before they were aggressive. Haruto took that into account and changed his approach. He observed and adopted the things that would help him in the social environment he found himself in, and he changed.

Genta Yamada became an obsolete cluster of characters on a plastic card.

The voice, the colour, the unwavering love you've given me

And the stars that shined in the sky when we were alone have all faded away long ago

Since the awkward years of his realisations of himself, Haruto always admired the idealistic man. The strong and responsible head of the house, the stern man with a sturdy and protective frame. He who made a promising husband and cut a respectably daunting figure. That was the kind of man Haruto figured he wanted to be, even before he realised that his body would never grow the same way as them.

Maybe he never managed to grow out of that. That tendency to admire something that wasn't realistically attainable and then chase after it anyways. Even as time proved him wrong, he wanted to be as close to the security of that image as possible.

He begrudgingly accepted that he couldn't be just that, but he also supplicated that no one could. That's why, when Tasuku joined GOD-za, Haruto was thrown for a loop. Tasuku infuriated him while also captivating him. Tasuku was effortless in his presentation, hitting a perfect balance between cool calmness and crackling retorts.

Under the monochromatic exhaustion after hardship, the seasons lost their colour

Took on the head, festered dully, and spilled down into the worn-out town

Haruto cultivated his talent efficiently. He was a hard worker after all. Nothing could stop him from getting to his end goal. Failure was never an option because it would mean admitting that everyone who rejected him was right. Failure invalidate everything that he knew he was, so he climbed any mountain that laid before him even after his fingers bled and his bones cracked and his body became like lead.

No amount of sacrifice was too much if it meant self-realisation. So what if he had to lose his history over and over again? So what if he had to bend himself into a different form? Who was he without the scars of his ordeals? The scars on his chest?

Yes, Haruto Asuka could sacrifice the immediate in order to secure his future. He even sacrificed his pride and relegated himself to the position as Tasuku's primary partner within the GOD-za community. Tasuku's career only ever seemed to pick up speed, and Haruto knew that he could get a lot from his tailwinds. He was small and insignificant in the streets of Veludo Way no matter what he did on his own. He could hardly contain his smile when someone acknowledged him by name during a street act. Slowly, he was advancing. He was making progress, even if its means were petty. Things worked differently in the city, and earnestness was not able to pave the way alone. Not even if he were born with the tools and privileges of normal men.

The flower should

Blossom before we've carefully followed the degenerate days.

You, clever as always, are still dreaming

And you watered the flowers as if you just realised

Yes, things worked differently in the city. Success was earned through sly means and technicalities rather than the pureness of one's effort. Acting was a means to an end for Haruto. It was just like everything else he went through, another task that kept him alive. It didn't take him long to see that he and Tasuku, despite working closely with each other, couldn't be more different.

He almost felt bad for not having the same passion for acting as his friend. It almost felt wrong to stand near someone who loved acting, to domineer over the pure hearted for daring to be naive. The MANKAI Company was all but dead, just like a fly that had been caught in a venus flytrap hours ago. Haruto had no need to take note of the shabby theater near the end of Veludo Way. Not until Reni became agitated.

Haruto was so used to skating by without many troubles or doubts. He had carved himself spacious room in the community to navigate any inconveniences. Most inconveniences were slight, like a broken doorknob that got stuck midtwist, or clothes that didn't fit right and made him look like his body was melting. When Reni became more demanding and threatening, Haruto truly forgot how wary he should be around him. Reni was a man with immeasurable power, no matter how high Haruto climbed. Reni was above him in every circumstance. The sudden feeling of being crushed under someone else's control put Haruto on the defensive again. He developed an impassive tone and left no more openings for conversation beyond normal pleasantries.

It didn't feel like an honour when Reni told him about his plans to destroy the MANKAI Company. For once, Haruto nearly tasted the sourness of underhandedness. He had no part to play in it. That softened the impact, at least. Once all the dirty business was done, Haruto could just return to the normal routine. He didn't need to have strong feelings on the whole affair.

Under the gentle sunlight that beams through the leaves, the flower that blossomed delicately

Sways above the clouds, on a different planet, beyond dreams

"Haruto. Now that Tasuku is gone, you are our next top actor." Reni declared firmly, leaving no route for escape that didn't lead to detrimental consequences. Was this what Haruto wanted? Did he really want to be at the top? To succeed just like that? Maybe it was just the country boy in him, but it felt wrong. Still, he put on his impassively respectful front and nodded along.

"It's an honour." he replied graciously. There was no satisfaction burning his stomach like money burning holes into teenagers' pockets. He found himself a bit disgruntled at the development. Tasuku left so abruptly, so gracelessly for a princely figure, and Haruto was alone again with the man who wielded absolute power over him since the day they met. He was at Reni's mercy, and he knew that, but being the one at the center of GOD-za made him resent it. Tasuku really was a perfect head of the house, buffering the struggles that tried to unsettle it with his broad form. Now, Haruto, with a body too small and sharp, was to take the brunt of the force.

It was right there that he came to know the feeling of hesitation. He nearly forgot it after years of taking any chances he could get.

The flower I carefully

Decorated for the dulled days withered in the blink of an eye

Foolish me woke up from the dream

There was no point in clinging onto it

MANKAI Company won the act off, and Haruto couldn't say he didn't see it coming. He was so conditioned to GOD-za getting its way that his knee-jerk reaction was denial, but after a moment's consideration, looking at the Winter Troupe's tearful celebration, he understood it. When it came down to it, they were on a different caliber than him. Numbers were strength. Find the people you could rely on most, and take them with you to clear through the trials and tribulations of your life. He knew of things like that.

He felt cold, empty dread voiding out his insides and covering his body in ice. He was freezing down to the core even in the theater that was just crowded enough to become humid and almost uncomfortably warm. Maybe his soul projected back into the chill outside to flee from the harsh guillotine of failure. Reni was displeased.

It just so worked out that he wasn't punted out onto the streets. Not quite. His demotion was a kick to his pride, a rollback of his years of work, but it wasn't an execution. It wasn't banishment. He was still trapped, chained to GOD-za, and that certain future was as reassuring as it was mind-numbing.

I carefully drew flowers

On a patched up paper on a fruitless day.

Our unfortunate selves are defeated by the dreams

In the end, we even let go of our promises

No, not mind-numbing. The monotony of the truth was only a guise to make it feel acceptable. Haruto, who made his decisions in black and white, caught a glimpse of the warmth and vibrancy of life around him. He was in shock from its beauty, from the grief of knowing he couldn't reach out to it. He forgot it and threw it away the first time he reformed himself because the colours were scary, an overwhelming crimson red of his bleeding heart and the burning daggers of scorn that his peers stabbed it with. If warmth came at the cost of searing pain, he couldn't take it. He would rather suffocate in a glass case than be incinerated again.

If Haruto could throw himself away and rebuild himself from the things around him, the cost was that he couldn't recover the old scraps that he left to compost and disappear.

#a3!#act! addict! actors!#haruto asuka #a3! writing #lord help me bc my brain really went BRRRRRR

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