unmeiboy

Inferno
NEWS, KAT-TUN, Yamashita Tomohisa
Gen, 100 words x 9, PG-13. Warning for hurt group feelings
A/N: Based on Dante's Inferno. Took some liberties with some of the circles, as there's no religion involved.





Feathers and glitter, heavy costumes and make-up, stages and wires, all that Shige had expected when he became an idol had been there. He has worn it all, sung it, done close to everything, yet he can definitely say that he never felt like he belonged there entirely, like someone who lives in a religious country but doesn't believe in the practice.

That's why he turned to something one wouldn't expect from an idol. To prove that he's different, that he isn't part of the religion that rules his country, doesn't need everything that comes with it. He started writing.


Tegoshi has lost count of them. All the men, the women. The older ones, the younger ones. If they are pretty he wants them, and he gets what he wants. He doesn't remember the last time he got a “no”; his mind is flooded with soft, naked bodies beneath him, of strong arms on each side of his body as he lays back and takes it, sees it even as he's undressing a new one, another one. They're his to use, he does what he wants, makes them do what he wants. And Tegoshi never regrets it, never gets enough.


Massu gets a corner in a fashion magazine, brings his own clothes every month and is featured wearing them. A dream come true for him, to work with his hobby. But there is a remark every now and then, one that first came up during the preparation meetings. They're worried he will run out of things to bring, to show, and even though he just smiles, says that he doesn't think that will happen, there's guilt nagging inside of him.

Because people do know that Massu likes fashion, but they have no idea that it's more of an actual addiction.


As long as he can fit it into his schedule, Kamenashi accepts every job offer he gets. Dramas, movies, commercials. The more offers, the more money, the more luxury. He surrounds himself with expensive items, wears the finest designs, drinks the best wine, owns a number of high class cars. He's aware that he's putting the rest of his group in shadow, but as long as the balance on his bank accounts continue increasing it only ever bothers him when they say they wish they got as much work as he does. That's when he tells them to work harder.


At first he had dealt with it, told himself that it's not something he can help. But Koyama had thought that the first three members would have been the last ones; the thought that they would lose Ryo and Yamapi as well had not existed even as something subconscious. One could say Uchi and Kusano were irresponsible, yet they aren't what upsets him the most. No, what makes anger bubble inside him is the feeling of being left behind, feeling that what happens to their group doesn't matter. A feeling he learned when the member count went down to four.


As long as they're under a contract, the agency is almighty. Nakamaru knows it; they all know it. The agency makes the rules, who gets to do what, who works with who, and while they have a say in it sometimes, more often than not it's the higher-ups that make the final decisions.

So if the agency says they'll be okay, that they will have activities, CD releases and tours, he should believe it. But seeing what his group has become, Nakamaru has lost his faith in the words of the agency. He will only believe things once they happen.


Ueda keeps himself in control in public, in front of the cameras, at photoshoots, in the dressing rooms, on stage as well as backstage, but just the effort of doing so becomes tiring, gets him tense and irritated. It's to get rid of all that tension that he steps into the ring with a fellow boxer; not to compete with him, not a single person watching, but that's when he lives. He beats, beats and beats, blood rushing hot in his veins and there's nothing in his mind but his fists meeting his opponent's body until he knocks them out.


When Jin left, Taguchi had seen it coming, but still he had been upset. When their agency had Koki's contract revoked, he had been upset, too. Perhaps most of them all. He had hoped it wouldn't come to that, that Koki would change, but he was never surprised with the outcome.

But now he's there, in Tokyo Dome singing the last songs for the weekend and he has made up his mind. The others don't know, not yet, that this is very likely his last concert with them. Hypocrite, he tells himself, yet he can't stop his tears from falling.


Everyone in Japan that turns on the TV that morning, see that Yamapi's efforts have given him success. His own personal efforts, helped by his agency, by his fans. He has gotten where he wanted to get, to a filled open-air stage with lights and fireworks. But that's just what some of the people watching see.

The others see his past, the members he has used as stepping stones to get where he is. The fans he let down for his own sake. That yes, he's the artist on that stage, but also that now, he's alone under the stars.