jewelledhours | [Broken Halves] The Artist and the Salesman (Reply)

Title : Broken Halves
Chapter : Three - The Artist and the Salesman
Pairing : RyoShige
Author :

binmusic
Rating : PG
Words : 3,511
Summary : The relationship and its various effects.
A/N : This was a hard chapter to write, a combination of me losing focus due to me sort of obsessing over dbsk and epik high (tablo!), and because my radar for whether my writing is okay or not is off. Happy late New Year! Technically it lasts fifteen days I believe? :DD Oh and yes, also happy return of RyoShige ;D Off-screen mag shots of the two are precious and too adorable for words <3 Although I'm hoping for drabbles/fics to pop up soon :D

Ryo-chan and Kato-kun's relationship was never one meant to be understood. And I'm unsure of how they came to be for I am not privy to their thoughts or feelings and I have never asked them. No one has ever publicly acknowledged the existence of their relationship. But that's not to say that no one knew of their relationship or that it was kept secret, their relationship was one that the entire town knew of the day after it had started. After all, this is a small town and there are no secrets in small towns.

Our town isn't a modern one, we still operate under rules and have community responsibilities that are more morally established than government mandated. Our town has been labelled a quaint town, picturesque, it's the kind that you'd find screen printed on posters available for mass purchasing in Tokyo souvenir shops under "Countryside Japan" or "Mountainous Japan". It's the ideal type of environment that parents dream of raising their kids in, clear air and quiet nights, where you live next door to the barber and across the street from the Auntie that owns the vegetable and fruit stall.

Parents think that children raised in environments like such would grow up to be normal, with a certain righteousness and a good head on their shoulders but that's not the case really. In small towns, there's always the sense of knowing everyone, and anonymity isn't possible.

It's commonly thought that in small towns, nothing bad happens. No murders, robberies or unnatural deaths. And it's true, to this day, nothing of that sort has happened here, but other things do.

A wife fights with her husband over buying a new kitchen sink and the words are repeated, exaggerated accents and all, until everyone has it memorized and it becomes the quote of the week. When Ryo-chan's sister was struck by the truck as it lumbered across the bridge, even I could paint you a picture of the way her hand had curled around the medic's neck and the descending beeps of her heart as it started fading long before they reached the hospital.

So it's true, nothing catastrophic occurs in our town, no rapist murderer warnings or toxic bomb threats. We're ordinary people leading normally plain lives. But when something does happen, the news echoes, bouncing off person to person, never really spoken aloud in words but still tangible in its existence.

With Ryo-chan and Kato-kun, the rumors regarding them attracted more attention then when the Mayor resigned, suddenly declaring he wished to be a farmer. The event then had sent the town into a state not unlike panic but this one relationship managed to drive us into uneasiness and curiously fascinated glances. Everything about them was an unknown, questions that not even the most sneaky gossip in town could answer.

So the town relied on speculations, hushed conversations held in backyards and with the neighborhood busybodies. Ask my mother and she'll tell you they were merely close friends who shared common interests similar to what most guys bond over, women and sports. The young woman across the street from us insists that they're relatives, long-lost cousins or brothers, depending on her mood, finally reunited and rejoicing in familial comfort. And while drinking a beer, the plumber slurs that Kato-kun must have been gay this whole time and that he knew it, knew it from the moment they shook hands.

I have my own scenarios drawn up, words they might have exchanged, glances or physical actions that could have been taken. But none of it feels right. Ryo-chan and Kato-kun could never be mundane or average, there is no rough kissing against doors or awkward dates at the movies. Years later I see it though, the casual tapping of fingers against a hip, the rolling of eyes at a joke before it occurs and the tilt of a head, seeking answers to an unspoken question.

I dare say that Ryo-chan expected the response they received, probably even anticipated it. The wide eyed gawking and exchanging of looks that followed their movements through town. In the beginning there was nothing from them, no cuddling in public or heavy make out sessions at the library. It was still Ryo-chan buying food for one at the market and Kato-kun sleeping in his regular room at the inn. It might have been their plan, letting the rumor mill cool down before taking any big steps.

About four months after the initial news, I saw them, not intimately close but changed. Ryo-chan's birthday was approaching, a week away and Kato-kun I guessed probably would be leaving town before then. It was another brown box, this one bigger and unwrapped on the spot.

"...A clay pot?"

"It's not a pot Nishikido-kun, it's a vase."

"Right, so a clay vase. You do realize I'm a guy right? What am I supposed to do with a vase?"

"Nishikido-kun! That was made by a talented clay artist. It's very hard to find authentic items from him, he's popular amongst the young crowd in the big cities."

"I still don't see what's so great about it. Take it back and sell it then if it's so popular."

Kato-kun frowned then as Ryo-chan held the vase roughly in the outstretched palm of his hand. With a sigh he reached for it only to have it snatched back by a grinning Ryo-chan last minute.

"But since it's my birthday gift, it'd be rude not to accept it. Who is this fancy artist?"

Kato-kun smiled then and shrugged his shoulders, the movement oddly caused Ryo-chan to chuckle.

"You have no idea what you're talking about do you?"

"Not really, no."

Ryo-chan spun the vase by the narrow opening and raised an eyebrow, "What do you think of this fancy artist then?"

"Nothing much, honestly I don't even know the artist's name."

Ryo-chan turned it over and lightly ran his fingers over the square indentations at the bottom, the mark of the creator.

"So besides being born with two left feet, you were probably also dropped as a baby. You're really dense for a businessman."

Ryo-chan threw the vase back at Kato-kun, who expectedly missed catching it.

"I've got three more sitting in the back, feel free to take them."

I remember the look on Kato-kun's face as he finally pulled everything together, as he glanced at the marked initials of NR on the very edge of the clay and as he thought back to the painting he tripped his way into.

"NIshikido-kun! I-I didn't realize."

"Obviously. Come on, I don't have all day."

Ryo-chan shook his head and kicked the door open, waiting until Kato-kun followed him in before closing it. The last words I heard belonged to Kato-kun, "I think the artist might be full of it." The words were followed by the loud, unrestrained laughter of Ryo-chan.

Everyone in town will tell you they know who Ryo-chan is, and more often than not, they'll describe him by his profession, a nationally renowned artist. Ryo-chan never refers to himself as an artist, in fact if you were to ask him what he does for a living, he'll tell you he's unemployed. Ryo-chan works primarily with clay, molding and forging the wet mounds of brown earth until he tires of it. To him, creating objects out of clay is not an art, it's merely a pastime that allows him to be unrestrained to do what he wants, something entirely separate from this town.

We're a self-sufficient community. We live and eat what we can grow or find. Farmers tend to the livestock and maintain vegetation growth. Fisherman travel out once a day to sea, bringing back enough seafood for the entire town and more. Apple and peach trees dot our streets and we've got wells that store some of the most pristine and pure water you'll find away from the Alps.

There are no stock brokers, taxi drivers or bankers here. No shopping malls or museums to be found either. We've got the lone diner, a tiny inn and the closest hospital is almost three miles away. Jobs are passed down from one generation to the next. The baker trains his only daughter, 12, teaching her the complex folding and kneading techniques she'll be using in the future. My mother wakes me up at odd hours of the night, instructing me on how to deal with rowdy, drunk patrons from the bar.

The rest of town fill up the other jobs : butcher, street cleaner, ambulance driver or they work in the factory. That's where my mother used to work, along with Ryo-chan's mother, at the bento packing factory. It's a gigantic square looking building from the outside, steel framed and gray in color. Just as imposing inside with its constant whirling of mechanical gears and the harsh squeaking of plastic against rubber.

Ryo-chan's the only one of us that didn't have the stereotypical job. He shied away from taking over his father's position as the town handyman and opted instead to be a sculptor. Unlike most artists, Ryo-chan isn't a romanticist nor is he brimming with angst or depressed like most of them are. He's in It for the control that it provides, the kind he's craved the moment his mother walked away.

His finished works have that unpolished quality, somewhat dulled and always a shade of copper. He doesn't use paints and has said before that it falsifies everything, the colors only serving to illusively beautify objects. As a result, Ryo-chan's become famous for the uncultured and almost crude unfinished look of his pieces.

Kato-kun stopped selling Ryo-chan's art after he left town. Not for lack of them, Kato-kun still received shipments from his suppliers and every so often a clay figurine could be spotted, tucked almost angrily against the boxes in his trunk. But they weren't for sale. Kato-kun also had at least four boxes of Ryo-chan's works. I know because I personally helped him with the packing of three of them, all left behind in Ryo-chan's house, a sort of parting gift I suppose. The other box, I can only guess, are from Ryo-chan himself. Not really meant to be presents, just random things givens because he wanted to and could.

Their relationship wasn't a typical one and wasn't meant to be either. I'd say that they only saw each other a few months out of the year, if they were lucky. Kato-kun never stayed more than a week at a time, already a noticeable increase from the three days he used to spend in town. Schedules and deadlines were words that always hung from his lips and words that I heard being repeated by Ryo-chan while he worked furiously with his clay.

I don't think it was love that kept them together at first, but desire and a stubborn will. Kato-kun is one of the most obstinate characters I have encountered. He's not illogically pig-headed, far from it, but he sticks to his guns. Once he's decided on something, he'll see it through to the end. Kato-kun isn't the type that gives up easily. Ryo-chan on the other hand, is.

Ryo-chan always knows what he wants, and I believe that he knew for at least a few years before Kato-kun's arrival that what he wanted was men. It's not as hard or it's certainly not as impossible as some seem to think. My mother was amongst the ones that took the news the hardest, probably because she still viewed Ryo-chan as the pitiful boy of eight. A part of her didn't want to believe that he was a homosexual, abnormal.

During the periods of time in which Kato-kun was away from town, my mother took to introducing girls to Ryo-chan. Properly primed, gentle classic beauties with bubbly smiles and cheerful personalities. Sometimes they were the spirited kind, full of energy and ones who actually had personality. Each was predictably denied, starting with polite dismissals that eventually escalated to shut doors and unanswered calls.

Ryo-chan finally drew the line when my mother introduced one, a young schoolteacher, in the presence of Kato-kun with the soft but purposeful words of my mother, "This is Yoshi-cha, she's a teacher from the other town."

Kato-kun nodded his head, a bright smile that faded when he caught sight of Ryo-chan's hardened expression. My mother continued, "She's twenty this year and an excellent cook if I do say so myself. And she knows how to clean and is good at ironing as well. Anyone who marries her will be a lucky man for sure."

"I'm sure." Ryo-chan replied curtly, his eyes narrowed and entire body tense with displeasure.

Yoshi-san bowed then, fluttering her large eyes and curving her pink lips into a enticing smile. "I'm very pleased to meet you Nishikido-san, I've heard a lot about you."

"Really? Then you'll also know that I'm gay. And that I already have a boyfriend."

I didn't get to hear or see the reaction he got from that statement. My mother pulling Yoshi-san away so quickly that she tripped forward, almost falling if it were not for the steadying hand of Kato-kun. What I did see was the look of contempt on my mother's face as she refused his help with a forceful push. And what I heard was the angry cursing of Ryo-chan mixing with the surprised gasp Kato-kun took.

I'd like to say that my mother eventually accepted them, but like many of the townspeople, she never did. Understand, it wasn't the idea of them as a gay couple that the town shunned but the fact that Ryo-chan would openly admit to being a homosexual. I'm sure the town probably would have continued turning a blind eye towards them on the pretense that they were just friends. Because it doesn't matter what is seen when there are excuses and lies that can cover it up. But when that deception is ruined, in this case with a simple admission, "I'm gay", it's no longer possible to continue believing your own lies.

Sure I've heard the whispers of "it's a phase", "he'll come to his senses soon" but those faded with time and with the knowledge that their relationship wasn't just a fling. Once the hopes that Ryo-chan would turn back disappeared, they started ignoring and I'm afraid it was Kato-kun that bore the brunt of the hate. It was his existence they started denying. Kato-kun, once adored and endlessly admired, was now snubbed, turned away at doors at almost always snapped at.

Every once in a while they'd purchase something, a stereo or a mantel clock, only to throw it out with the garbage the next day with loud grumbles of fabricated faults and uselessness. Despite all this, Kato-kun never faltered, continuously knocking on unwelcoming doors with a more than professional smile and cheerful demeanor. So routine was he that I doubt you'd suspect him of suffering, it took me more than a year to notice myself.

I came across him sitting in his car, hands stationary on the steering wheel, fixed in an awkward position with his eyes unblinkingly focused on Ryo-chan's front porch. I hesitated, considering whether I should knock or leave. In the end he made the choice for me, exiting the car and smiling briefly before softly inquiring if I was alright.

"Kato-kun, I-I'm sorry."

I caught a flash of something in his eyes, something that didn't register until much later. "There's nothing to apologize for."

"I'm sorry."

He nodded and motioned towards Ryo-chan's house. "Join us for dinner?"

Immediately I shook my head and flinched at the brisk rejection I gave.

"I know, you're sorry. It's okay."

He passed me by, hesitantly brushing his hand across the top of my head before unchaining the gate to Ryo-chan's house.

"Kato-kun! Maybe next time?" I called out before he disappeared completely from my view.

He popped his head through the fence and with a conspiratorial wink agreed, "Next time it is then! Be sure to tell Nishikido-kun what your favorite dishes are or else we'll end up with miso soup and chinese noodles again."

I chuckled before nodding and waved, waiting until I heard the familiar closing thwack of Ryo-chan's door. Much later as I laid vertically across my bed waiting for sleep, I heard the loud crashing of broken things coming from Ryo-chan's place and curiously leaned out the window.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"I have soapy hands! It's your job to dry."

"My hands were busy doing other things."

"Yes, and I appreciate the other things they were doing but you're not blaming this one on me or my clumsiness."

"How about we switch then? I'll dry and you can-"

"Fine, it's my fault."

"I knew that already. But thank you for admitting it."

"Just go back to what you were doing."

That was immediately followed by another crash and the rich baritone laughter of both men. I lowered my head and closed the window. It was the first time I remember thinking that maybe Kato-kun and Ryo-chan weren't as wrong together as everyone thought.

I admit that I was probably amongst those that first thought the coupling of Ryo-chan with Kato-kun was ill-fitted, and while I wouldn't consider myself a staunch supporter of theirs, I still wish they had made it.

I wondered often what it was that kept them together for such a long period of time. Five years is no easy feat, and when you take the thousands of miles between them and the time they often spent apart, it makes it that much harder. Perhaps that was it though that allowed their relationship to progress as smoothly as it did. And if I were to be completely truthful, I'd confess to being jealous. I'm not sure if I was ever jealous of either one of them, rather I was jealous of what they had.

During the winter when the roads were slick with icy snow, I'd often see Ryo-chan waiting on the steps with a large thermos that he'd push at Kato-kun when he arrived while simultaneously berating him for driving slower than an elderly woman, causing him to wait so long. And in the spring, it was Kato-kun who taught Ryo-chan how to drive a stick shift, patiently dealing with all the dirty jokes and innuendos that Ryo-chan threw at him.

But it wasn't always like that with them and they had their fair share of fights. If I were to describe their relationship in terms of pie charts, I'd divide it seventy/thirty, with the seventy composed of laughter and lazy days while the thirty represented their angry words and heated exchanges. And if I were to express this in terms of a timeline, the happiness came early on while in the end all that remained were regrets and overdue apologies.

Ryo-chan once told me that with every love there is beauty and misery. I didn't realize it then but that had been a description of them and their love.

About two years into their relationship there was a temporary split, a sort of hiatus between them. There was a fight, caused primarily by secrets and untold histories. It led to Kato-kun forcefully re-painting Ryo-chan's entire porch a bright shade of green that stood out particularly against the grey that colored the rest of the house. The next day, in front of a small crowd of neighbors, Ryo-chan ceremoniously told Kato-kun to "Get out of my town."

The breakup lasted for less than five months, Kato-kun returning two days before Thanksgiving with a frozen turkey in one hand and yet another brown box in the other. Ryo-chan opened his door, porch still green, and scowled.

"Thought I told you to get out."

Kato-kun didn't respond to the bait and handed over the box instead. "It's a clay sculpture I made in response to that egomaniac of an artist I told you about."

Ryo-chan made a show of ripping the cover off the box, emptying its contents into the palm of his hand. "A penis? You made me a clay penis?"

Kato-kun shrugged in response, "Like I said, I was inspired by-"

"Me, you're saying you were inspired by me to make a clay dick?"

"Technically, it's a replica of the male sex organ."

They paused then, Ryo-chan fisting the clay sculpture in his right hand while Kato-kun held his turkey by the neck.

Suddenly Kato-kun snickered, "You look good with it."

Ryo-chan rolled his eyes in response, "Really, thanks."

As Kato-kun walked further in he caught sight of the cans of paint that were lined neatly in a row. "Paint job?"

"Maybe."

"That's an awful lot of paint for just the front porch."

"Maybe it's not for the front porch."

"Huh, well in that case, the turkey is defrosting."

I was caught ten minutes later, with a hand over my mouth, by Kato-kun who pulled me up from my hiding spot in the bushes. "Join us for dinner?"

This time I agreed.