Yamada Ryosuke & Chinen Yuri
Yamada x Chinen
Angst, Fluffy, AU, AOB, Alpha/Omega
R (Non-explicit) at the start, but the Epilogue will likely be NC-17
MxM Relationship, Alpha/Omega Traits, AU
It was another sleepless night, Ryosuke slapped his hands on the mattress in frustration, growling as he rolled over onto his side, his eyes moving past the curtains in the window to the stars beyond. He blinked lazily, wishing sleep would just take him so he could be renewed, but his mind was so busy, rushing in every direction as he tried to process all of the things he had to do the next day, all of the responsibilities he needed to see to, all of the people who were counting on him.
There’s so much to take care of.
He went over his mental to-do list for what had to have been the hundredth time in the last hour.
Frustrated, he felt small and alone with just the stars shining on him, and he wondered…as he had come to do quite often when he was feeling stressed or extraordinarily overwhelmed, holding his breath, his voice soft in the air around himself.
“Are you there?”
For a moment there was nothing, and he wondered, as a matter of question, if he was mentally ill and needed to speak to someone about these delusions he continued to experience but…
Then…he felt it.
The only way he could describe it was like a soft feather moving up his spine…a tingling sensation, almost a tickle but not quite…subtle and delicate, and then it would move across his shoulders and before he could usually make sense of what was happening his heart was so warm.
It was like a sip of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day, or the way it felt to hold your fingertips out to warm them on a fire while it’s cold and snowing outside—except, it was his heart that felt that way.
He hummed softly at the sensation, rolling over onto his back, his hand drawing up to rest lightly on his chest, reveling in the feeling, in the emotions that came with the feeling, the sensations that grew from the feelings—so many subtle nuances of what was happening that would be lost to him if he were asleep.
His eyes fluttered closed, focusing on his breathing, on being still so he could feel everything.
His mind fell silent, stilled as if someone had gently shushed him, and he felt nestled within the safety of a feeling…of an emotion.
He knew it was insane, he understood you can’t feel emotions like that and certainly you didn’t have conversations with emotions, but…well, he did.
He had no understanding of what this was or why it sometimes happened to him. He had grown up to this point reading every story he could get his hands on about ghosts and supernatural phenomenon—strangely fixated on it thanks to his ‘lessons’ at his Granny Yamada’s knees, desperately needing to know and understand.
Though, even now, he really doesn’t know or particularly understand anything.
In fact, most of the time his discoveries left him terrified of his own shadows and looking around every corner in paranoia.
Still, the biggest part of him believed this, the feeling, the emotion—it was most decidedly something otherworldly.
Which was a little scary, at least it could feel that way when he wasn’t in the midst of the experience—when the aura was gone and his heart was back to being normal again—then in that stark reality it was hard to imagine how this could be anything good.
In this moment, when he was slowly being engulfed by the warm, gentle caress of whatever this was?
It was healing.
It was hope.
It gave him the feeling he could do anything.
His worries were popped like bubbles one by one, and his concerns dissipated almost instantly.
Every part of himself that had worry was soothed.
Every facet of his soul that had felt inadequate felt lifted up.
Whatever this was, whether the result of his own desperation or an act of a power beyond his understanding—this emotion spoke courage into him, told him he was good enough, strong enough, more than enough for anything. That he was unique and special, that he was made to do great things, and that he should love himself.
It wasn’t easy, there were times he rebelled at the emotion, not believing or maybe most of the time not wanting to believe the ideologies it seemed to share so easily—but the emotion was nothing if not persistent.
Patient, and gentle, it would wait for Ryosuke to come to accept the message that it was working so hard to convey.
You are enough.
Sometimes, like this very night, Ryosuke would even be soft enough to believe it.
It would be impossible for Yuri to be more excited—he could literally think of nothing between heaven and earth that could make him more excited than this moment.
They were moving to Tokyo, finally…FINALLY, they were moving to the city, and Johnny’s had already contacted him with information about work they’d have prepared for him.
He didn’t care about the promises of anything, nothing mattered, the only thing that mattered was that he was going to meet him, to finally see the boy, to see Ryosuke.
He wanted to smack his own head for using his name in such an informal way—but he felt like he knew him, he couldn’t shake it, and he couldn’t stop thinking it was just the way it was…the way it had to be.
He’d told his manager when he had called him to tell him about the work, confirming when he would be arriving and such, “I don’t care what other work you give me, but I want Shounen Club.”
The manager said it wasn’t a problem, but that despite being there as long as he had been, since he didn’t have experience singing and dancing like the other boys, he would start in the back.
“I don’t care, I just want to be on Shounen Club, put me anywhere, but make it happen.”
Please…I need to go there.
I need to go there so I can take a deep breath again.
Yuri figured he should be nervous, but for the sake of himself he couldn’t work up a single butterfly in this tummy, rather, he just felt sweet anticipation as his manager led him through the building, turning to glance back at him as he spoke, “You’ll be running through the routine with some of the other Juniors, and then you’ll perform in tonight’s show—it…things work fast, I don’t have to tell you that it’s important you keep up.”
Yuri stopped himself from rolling his eyes, knowing it would be entirely too disrespectful when the man was just trying to be helpful, but honestly, he had every dance they’d ever done on the program memorized by heart—whatever they were going to do would not be an issue.
“It won’t be a problem,” Yuri stated firmly, his heart beating fast, because he felt it…felt the warmth, radiating toward him as he moved down the hallway.
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” his manager smiled as he opened the door to the rehearsal room, ushering Yuri in, “Those boys over there are the ones you’ll be dancing with tonight, you go on over, I’ll be over after I take care of some things.”
“Alright,” Yuri muttered, his voice caught in his throat because he really was there.
Standing across the room with four other boys was Yamada Ryosuke.
Please…I need to go there.
I need to go there so I can take a deep breath again.
His feet moved without his will, taking him toward the place he knew he needed to go, his heart thundering in his chest, eyes fixated on the boy as he moved past the others.
He could feel it, the way the boy was nervous, the energy around him chaotic and wild, worst than how it usually felt to Yuri, so he wished, with his whole heart he pushed comfort to him, hoping that his support could reach him where he was.
“Kawaii,” one of the boys exclaimed as he moved past him, and normally Yuri would play that up but he couldn’t be bothered with it right now.
Not when the boy was turning, his body twisting in place as his torso turned, his expression seeming to be a little confused, but more than that, full of wonder when their eyes met. The only thing Yuri could think in that moment was no one, anywhere, in all of time and space shined as brightly as this boy did, relishing the feeling as his warmth wrapping around him in a soft embrace.
“You must be Chinen,” Ryosuke asked his voice soft and melodic just like Yuri imagined it would be in person, his body still in motion, stretching his legs as he looked him over.
“You must be Yama-chan,” Yuri responded quickly, surprised he could talk at all, because he still hadn’t taken a deep breath, it felt even now like there was an elephant sitting on his chest.
Ryosuke’s eyes widened at the familiarity of the name, then laughed as he shook his head, “Seriously?”
Ryosuke stood up, and maybe Yuri should have felt shame or at the very least embarrassment for being so forward, but in truth, Yuri just couldn’t be bothered by it, shrugging, curious about the fact that he could sense the boy’s warmth but that he still didn’t feel like things were right, still couldn’t catch his breath, wondering absently if he just needed to soak him up more or something.
I’m here now…this is a start at least.
Ryosuke blinked when he felt something creeping up his spine, the soft flutter of a feather against his skin, the emotion, the feeling he had come to see as synonymous with healing, with happiness, with support and unconditional love. The strange sensation he didn’t have a name for because he wasn’t convinced it wasn’t just a figment of his own imagination to begin with. It was undeniable in the moment though, as he could feel it growing in power, in concentration. He turned his head, flipping his hair out of his eyes as he peeked over to the doorway where one of the managers from upstairs had just walked in with a small child following behind him.
Surely, the manager wasn’t responsible for the emotion, and it seemed to him impossible that the child would be involved, and for the millionth time, Ryosuke couldn’t help but question his sanity.
Shut up and do your job.
He felt a wave of peace roll across his body, soothed by its presence, not used to it being here in the daytime. He rolled his head on his shoulders, trying to loosen up, trying to dispel the weird energy taking hold of him, turning away to face the wall, trying to clear his head.
He felt it though, moving closer, coming into sharp focus, the strange tingling spreading across his skin, the way it felt like a touch of static electricity making all of the hair on his head tickle, and then he turned, discovering that the one he thought was a child was actually a boy who appeared to be about his own age, understanding that this was the new Junior who would be dancing with them, clearing his throat in nervousness, “You must be Chinen.”
He stretched to the side, doing his best to stay focused on his warm-ups, when the boy responded, his voice so soft and unassuming, but at the same time holding an element that made it clear that despite his size he was not to be underestimated, “You must be Yama-chan.”
Ryosuke felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him, like a giant had punched him in the gut, and it seemed like the room was tilting a bit when he abruptly stood up, yet, he couldn’t make sense of it, his eyes widening, trying to figure out if he’d met this boy before.
Do I know him?
He knew in his heart he didn’t, that they’d never met—but something, something was there, the emotion so vibrant and alive, something tugging at the inner recesses of his mind, screaming for him to close the distance, to enter into this boy’s space, to feel the static more fully—but he stood his ground, clenching his fists tightly at his side, absently berating himself for getting so carried away, “Seriously?”
He knew that he should not let this kid show up and act like this, after all, he’d already learned that this was not the kind of environment to get too friendly with others, to get too chummy when in truth they were all fighting for the same, sadly few, spotlights.
No, best to not be too friendly.
Even as the thought flitted through his mind, he smiled, laughing softly at the tiny boy who was so brave and bold who made him feel like he was touching a live wire, “C’mon then, let’s see how you can dance.”
The boy nodded, smiling broadly as he stepped forward, his determination clear on his face, “Try to keep up, Yama-chan.”
Ryosuke laughed at that, signaling for the tech to start the music, starting to enjoy the strange feeling that seemed to be settling on his skin, dumbfounded by how bold this boy was, yet, somehow feeling like it was the most natural thing in the world, “I’ll do my best.”
Ryosuke grabbed at the box that had been shoved under his bed for what seemed like a decade ago despite only having been placed there a few weeks before, dragging it out with a huff. He lifted the lid, looking cautiously at the papers held within.
He felt guilty.
He knew his Mom would be really upset with him for this, that she didn’t like him to read about this, to study it, and he’d done his best to honor her desires while also not neglecting his own.
Because it was a compulsion at this point—the absolute need for knowledge, for understanding, to be clear on what was and wasn’t true—because he was experiencing things, strange things, wonderful things, but things that no science book he’d ever read seemed to address, and the few times he’d been brave enough to google had led him to places he certainly was neither prepared nor mature enough to remotely consider.
He knew his parents only wanted the best for him, that they only meant to do what they believed was right and good, and they really didn’t understand…had absolutely no idea how vital it was at this point that Ryosuke be able to connect the dots between what was and what is, to what had been to what will be.
He leaned over, pulling his binder from under the bed, opening it to run his fingers across the smooth plastic that covered the letters held safely within reverently.
His fingers running over the vast stack of letters in the box, likely at least a hundred more letters, which he hadn’t read yet. He’d started trying to put them in order a few weeks ago, when he’d inadvertently discovered them in the hall closet.
That had been a rough day in the Yamada household.
They’d all said a lot of things, and there were still a lot of open wounds, but he knew his parents loved him and they didn’t mean to hurt him—but they had.
He sighed, pushing away the pain, trying to focus on what he was doing, what he was looking for.
Why am I so different than everyone else?
Why can’t I just be like the other boys?
What is wrong with me?
Why do I feel like I’m being called to something?
Should I be afraid? I am afraid, but should I be?
The questions were never ending, stretching out into hours, and days, and weeks.
All he wanted was to understand, and his heart told him that the answer was in this box, in these pages.
He dug into the pile of letters, dragging his fingers through them as he closed his eyes, letting go of everything in hopes of allowing chance to do a better job at giving him what he needed since his own will seemed far too inadequate, his voice a whisper as he ran across the stiff folds of the envelopes, begging to be led to one that would make a difference to him, “Please, please…”
He pulled a letter out, checking the date and then grabbing a new sleeve, sliding it carefully into it and then flipping open the binder to put it where it belonged.
In truth, he just didn’t have the patience to sit at one time to sort all the letters by date so he could read them in proper order, he was too consumed with wanting to know now.
Yesterday would have been even better.
The day before had started off like any other day he’d ever lived, getting up, going to school, reporting to Johnny’s for rehearsals, and then…his world felt like it had been flipped upside down—because the emotion was real. There was a human being attached to the emotion—something that neither made sense nor answered questions—simply created even more of them.
In his wildest dreams he couldn’t have imagined that there was a real person responsible for the emotion he’d been experiencing—but he simply could not deny that the boy, Chinen, who had shown up at Johnny’s yesterday was without a doubt the origination of the emotion.
In some ways, maybe that should be a comfort, but the truth was, it was confusing—it didn’t make any sense, and the past 24 hours had been a whirlwind of Ryosuke deciding he had imagined every single aspect of all of this then immediately deciding that there was something bigger at play—something stronger than his own will, and that it was sort of like being directed by an unknown source to show up in that one place at that exact time in all of history.
Between the idea that he was actually delusional and insane, versus there being a supernatural power? He had decided it made sense to remember what his Granny Yamada had said to him so many times it floated in front of his eyes when he thought of the words.
Trust your heart.
So, here he sat with the box of letters hoping against hope that there was something, anything within the pages that would help him understand what he was experiencing, why he had known that boy even when he most certainly did not know him at all.
He’d decided it best to leave it up to chance, up to fate which letter he pulled out of the box, not just now but that’s how he had decided to approach it from the start, after randomly choosing one, he would put them in order, and then when he’d finished them all, he would be able to read them from start to finish in order.
Once the new letter he’d just drawn out was safely in its protector, he pulled the binder into his lap, focusing on the newest addition, slowly reading the words.
They gave me a new pen today—honestly, I don’t know why they insist on giving me plain black pens. How dull. I know for a fact they make colored pens.
How hard would it be for them to give me a pink one?
A purple one?
I mean really.
I haven’t heard from you, I wonder if you even receive these letters or not?
Ryosuke growled, his hands wanting to throw something, shaking with the desire to pitch a fit, because he hadn’t received these letters, no, his father in his infinite wisdom had taken all of these letters and hidden them from him. His mother had agreed to this, in his best interest of course.
To protect him.
From his grandmother.
It was ridiculous and while he was on his way to forgiving his parents for their absolutely stupid decisions, he couldn’t understand why they couldn’t have been more understanding, more compassionate. Instead of trying to force him into who they wanted him to be, if they had just embraced who he really was.
Because he’d never been “normal”—not from the first memory he had of himself until now. There was something that always set him apart from everyone else, sometimes a positive and many times, too many to count, a definite negative.
If only they had acknowledged it, helped him understand so he wouldn’t consider every aspect of himself to be flawed…well, it hardly mattered now—he sighed, releasing the negative tension, focusing on the words on the page again.
Let’s see…where was I last time?
This old mind isn’t as it once was, so forgive me if I am repetitive but it’s all so important, and no one cares about anything anymore, but they should. I don’t want you to be caught unaware. You deserve to be told the truth.
I know who you really are, and you should know too.
So…like I said in the last letter—at the dawn of time the world was a hostile place and it seemed like even time itself was against humans. In truth, it sort of was, and in that, as is often truth, nature can become your enemy or your salvation, or as sometimes happens—both.
Among the humans a strange phenomenon took place, a hybrid human. Now don’t try to ask me what it is hybrid with? Who can say? Aliens? Animals? Gods? I don’t know, and maybe none of us ever will—let’s just count it as a mystery that will ever remain as such.
The Hybrids were a special kind of human, a super human if you will…they had special sensory perceptions, able to communicate with their minds…well, that’s the simple version of it and I’ll leave it at that for the moment. They could tell things about each other, and they were alive for a very specific purpose.
To ensure survival of the human race.
Honestly, I don’t suppose there was any other big reason for this—it was because the humans were dying at an insanely rapid pace and in a few decades they would have been extinct.
Gone the way of the Dodo bird.
I don’t know about you but I would rather not be like a Dodo?
Well, your old Granny is tired, so I will stop story time here for now—but I’ll send the rest along as much as I can.
I wish I could hear from you.
Until then, I love you my dear grandson, and if you need me I am right here. Please take gentle care of you and most important—trust your heart.
I love you,
Ryosuke stared at the page, his fingers tracing the delicate letters, wondering if he could find out what happened to his Granny, where she was buried, so he could go to see her.
He shoved the stuff back under his bed, moving to his desk to do his homework, but he couldn’t really stop wondering about this, about these “hybrid” humans, and for sure why his Granny kept saying she wanted him to know who he was…each letter led to more and more questions instead of answers, but he had to hope that by the end he would surely understand and have the answers he was so desperately seeking.
Ryosuke and Yuri were in one of the seldom used practice rooms, sitting on the floor, contemplating life…or at least they supposed most people would assume something like that if they saw them.
The truth was, they were just together.
It wasn’t deeper than that, not for either of them really—it was just, since the moment Yuri had shown up in that room those months ago, everything had been different—and if they didn’t find time to just sit together to sort of connect, it made them both struggle with handling everything they had to do.
So, it had become a priority to ensure they spent a few minutes every day just being near each other. They hadn’t ever talked about it, there was no formal agreement, rather, it just seemed to happen as a natural part of their lives, of going through their day to day motions.
Yuri stretched his foot out, nudging Ryosuke’s leg where he sat on the floor across from him, “Nervous?”
Ryosuke shrugged, “I guess a little…I don’t like not knowing what is going on, and that seems to be the norm these days…”
“Everything is going to be okay,” Yuri responded, his voice soft, “Don’t worry.”
Ryosuke sighed, knowing Yuri was absolutely right, but it was never quite as simple as he made it seem, his mind whirling with all of the possibilities…after all, there had been some crazy rumors going around among the Johnny’s—rumors of debuts and disbandments, of broken hearts and rising dreams—and yet, Ryosuke had no idea where he belonged in any of it, as the only thing they’d been told was that they were not to talk about anything to anyone.
Of course, it wasn’t like the company was forthright in general but in this case, they were locked down like they were holding trade secrets worth millions and for all Ryosuke knew—maybe they did?
He certainly didn’t count himself savvy enough business wise to have full comprehension of what this all might mean but the truth was, he was smart enough to know that putting together the perfect group could make or break Johnny’s and so far they’d been nothing but successful. Given the number of current Juniors, it was clear they had a broad talent pool to choose from. There would be no reason for whomever they choose to not be successful…but for those who weren’t chosen?
Who could say when or if they’d debut more groups?
If I don’t debut soon, I’ll have to think of something else to do…something I know I can be successful at.
Of course, Hey! Say! 7 had been successful but it was a sub-group, something meant to be a one-hit wonder and nothing more and he knew that—they’d all known that. He’d looked around, and painfully, despite not wanting to, he had to admit, it was probably going to be JJ Express, or Ya-Ya-Yah who would debut…and that meant he wouldn’t be there.
Not him…nor Yuri either.
At that thought his eyes lifted, discovering Yuri staring at him, his eyes soft with an emotion Ryosuke wasn’t sure he understood, or perhaps he didn’t want to understand, because he still didn’t have a very firm grasp on what this weird flow of energy was between the two of them, and so far hadn’t found answers in his research or in his Granny’s letters.
Still, either way, he generally tried to ignore the way Yuri looked at him.
He had an intensity, a sort of underlying feeling that flowed from him that Ryosuke didn’t understand and honestly, he was a little scared of.
When he was near Yuri, he felt things…felt things deeply, strongly, and powerfully.
Not just the emotions, but…everything was different, every part of life and living.
He had zero understanding for it, nor an explanation—all he knew was that he’d met a lot of people, and spent a ton of time around a million and one boys—but not a single one made him feel the way Yuri did.
And it wasn’t just the flow of the energy between them, it was so much more than that, something Ryosuke didn’t think he’d ever be able to articulate to anyone…something so real, so genuine, and deep…meaningful…and uniquely theirs.
He felt like he was something important, special…the way Yuri looked at him made him forget all the things he hated about himself. When Yuri looked at him—he was no longer that short, tiny, effeminate, chubby cheeked, round little boy.
He felt like he was more, more than he could imagine being when Yuri looked at him, and he felt a power from being near him—a drive to be successful, a need to prove himself, to stand up tall and make sure people noticed him, that they took him seriously, that no one dared to dismiss him—and in truth, Yuri made him brave.
He made him want to do better, to be better, to try harder, and for Yuri?
He wanted to always stand forward, to be ahead of him so he could hit the walls, so the fists that would come flying would hit him instead, so that he could stumble over the cracks in the pavement to clear the way, to ensure that the road laid out before Yuri was safe and smooth and easily traveled.
He made him want to protect him, to take care of him, and that’s pretty much exactly what he did.
Ryosuke jumped when the door opened to the small room the two had hidden away in, Kota peeking in, “It’s time guys…”
Ryosuke nodded, standing up quickly and reaching down his hand to help Yuri stand up. The moment Yuri took his hand he felt a sense of security, even more so when he looked to discover Yuri smiling at him as he pulled him up off the floor.
“No matter what happens today, everything is going to be okay,” Yuri said softly, the tone betraying how serious the words were, how much conviction there was in them.
“How can you be so sure?” Ryosuke squeezed Yuri’s hand, unwilling to break the connection yet, wanting to hold on just a little longer.
Yuri held Ryosuke’s gaze, smiling softly as he squeezed his hand in return, leaning forward a bit to impress the words upon him, “Because we’ll be together—no matter what happens today—we’ll still have each other.”
Ryosuke blinked, all of the concerns and worries falling to the floor around him as Yuri broke things down into the simplest terms, making quick work of all the ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybe this’ scenarios that had been running through his head.
He moved to leave, pulling on Yuri’s hand as they went to the door, to go see what the day would hold, and now, instead of being afraid, Ryosuke was secure—because he knew, no matter what, they really would have each other.
Ryosuke was constantly confused by his attachment to Yuri. It wasn’t that it bothered him per say, it was just…weird.
He felt like he needed to take care of him, and God help anyone who so much as looked at him wrong.
He really didn’t understand why he was so protective but he supposed maybe it was just because he was so tiny and small.
After all, it isn’t like I’m the only one who does it, pretty much everyone in Jump does it.
He sighed as he dismissed the thoughts, focusing on the new letter he’d randomly drawn out to place in his binder.
We had fresh strawberries from the community garden today! Do you still love strawberries? I wonder if you do?
I make a pretty mean shortcake.
One day I’m going to make you one! How would that be? Look forward to it!
Meanwhile, let me think about where I was last time…
Alphas? Is that right?
Well, you’re not going to tell me, now are you? haha
Okay, so Alpha, I mean it’s like the boss right? They sort of are a bit of control freaks. I mean, I guess they probably weren’t all that way in the beginning, back when things were simple then I bet they were just demanding, after all they were just meaning to repop…
Ryosuke wondered at the scratched out part of the letter, confused as he tried to hold the letter up to the light to see what it might say but it was impossible.
Ah well, maybe I’ll share that bit with you when you’re a bit older—how old are you now? Seven? Eight? Maybe you’re nine—I don’t have a calendar so it’s impossible for me to tell but I bet you’re still the cutest little boy ever!
Anyways, Alphas, well, if you look at people today, I think they’re pretty easy to spot, right? They’re gonna be your powerful people, successful people, leaders. Now, don’t get me wrong—it doesn’t necessarily have to look like what you’d think—they can be an Alpha and appear to be shy and not reflect success in the world’s definition of it—but if you are near one of these people you’ll know it. It doesn’t really matter that the trait is dormant, it’s still there, so it does sort of present itself in a way even if it’s not the biological way it once did.
Most of the Alphas realize what they are but honestly, it doesn’t matter—they’re not “activated” so to speak. So, they’re really just glorified Betas…oh, Betas are just your average, perfectly normal human beings.
Don’t look down on them, they’re perfectly normal human beings—the operative word here being perfectly. Just love those precious souls where they are, okay?
Oh, dinner time—it’s ramen night! WOO!
Take care, and don’t forget—TRUST YOUR HEART!
Love, Granny Yamada