All My Loving_Yaoi Novel Read online

“Kento, since when can you play guitar?” Tomoya’s eyes were wide with surprise.

  “I practiced because I had some time on my hands.”

  “I heard you’re taking a composition course, too? That’s so cool.” Tomoya propped his chin on his hands and looked at Kento enviously.

  Kento couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Tomoya repeating how jealous he was.

  “What’re you talking about?” he responded. “You’re part of Chronos, the heartthrob band of the century. You’re way cooler.”

  “No,” Tomoya protested. “You’re tall, and you’re still so nice to me even after you’ve gotten injured, and you’re challenging yourself with all these new things other than dance… you’re so mature.”

  Kento smiled, happy to be called mature. Did that mean he had grown up a little?

  “I didn’t do it on my own.” He decided to tell everything to Tomoya. “Our school doctor, Dr. Orihara, was the one who supported me all the way. Actually, he’s still behind my motivation right now.”

  Even though they were apart, Orihara’s existence was still a driving force for Kento.

  Once July rolled around and the term-end exams passed, Kento visited Miyashita Clinic for the first time in a long while. Miyashita began by examining his leg.

  “Let’s take an X-ray,” he said. He immediately developed the photo and hung it on the light box beside the photo that Orihara had taken before.

  “Kento, I think you can start getting back into your routine again. Your knee has gotten much better!”

  “What, really?” Kento literally jumped up from the stool, where he had been sitting gravely moments before.

  “Yes. But before you start dancing again, I suggest you start swimming first to gain back some muscle. Keep your support on. It’ll also help stretch your body,” Miyashita said as he examined Kento’s knee again. “Osgood-Schlatter disease puts stress on your bones when you bend and stretch. If you’re in the water, you’ll have buoyancy on your side. You should keep your support on so that you don’t bend your knee too much, too quickly.”

  Kento was filled with disbelief at first, since he had heard before it would take a year for him to recover.

  “Are you sure? Am I really better now?”

  Miyashita clapped Kento on the shoulder. “You followed doctor’s orders and endured. It paid off.”

  No, Kento inwardly shook his head. This was thanks to Orihara. If Orihara hadn’t found the disease in the first place ?if he hadn’t encouraged him, then everything would have turned out differently.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Kento said clearly, looking Miyashita straight in the eye.

  Over the summer, Kento went to the pool regularly to recover his muscular strength. During his exercise ban, Kento had trained with a chest expander to condition his upper body. His abdominal breathing practice had also expanded his thorax, which enabled him to improve rapidly in swimming.

  Just once, he sent out a postcard addressed to the medical office of the hospital that Orihara worked at.

  He wrote a single line, just mentioning how he had recovered enough to start exercising again. After some indecision, he decided to attach lyrics from a Beatles song. He had actually wanted to attach a poem he had written himself, but he wasn’t confident enough for that yet.

  He debated about which lyrics to use, and ended up choosing “All My Loving.”

  While I’m away

  I’ll write home every day

  And I’ll send all my loving to you

  Kento felt that these lyrics mostly accurately described what he felt in his heart.

  The summer holidays were now numbered to its last days. One day, Kento visited Sion Promotions to do some voice training. His trainer, Hamanishi, took him to a practice studio with instruments instead of their usual practice room.

  The studio was usually for practice but was nonetheless well-equipped enough to do demo tape recordings. In a corner was a glass-panelled mixing room.

  Kento went inside to find that Managing Director Mori, Manager Shimoda, and a number of staff were already present inside the mixing booth. Kento froze up at seeing so many senior company executives. Manager Shimoda came over to him and passed him a few sheets of notation.

  “Do you think you can sing a bit for us?”

  It was Chronos’ song, one that Kento had practiced quite thoroughly. He put on a pair of headphones and sang along to the music that streamed through them. Mori watched him steadily from inside the booth.

  Once Kento finished singing, Shimoda spoke to him from the microphone in the booth.

  “Can you listen to this?” he asked. Kento put his headphones on again and heard a slow instrumental song. It was a song he’d never heard before. He listened intently, tapping a beat with his foot.

  “What do you think?” Mori asked.

  “It’s good. The chord progressions remind me of ‘Michelle’ by The Beatles,” Kento answered. Mori looked astonished.

  “These are the lyrics,” Shimoda said as he came in and passed him notations. Kento opened the sheet music up and let his eyes sweep over them.

  “This…” He was at a loss for words.

  You said so once

  With time

  I would forget about you

  The songs I sang with you, the scenes we saw together

  The guitar your hands ran over

  Everything reminds me of you

  They remind me of you every time

  My love will last

  I know it will, all through my life

  Longing for you with all my lovin’

  I’ll gather the fragments of the times we spent together

  And put it all in a sandglass

  If I turn it over in my heart

  I know it’ll turn back to the times we spent together

  Turn it over

  Over and over

  Over and over again

  “I wrote these words…”

  Mori spoke to him over the microphone. “I heard from Tomoya that you were writing lyrics. When I told him I wanted to take a look, he sneaked them out for me.”

  Kento felt his cheeks flush. “Tomoya,” he growled. “I never asked him to!” But gnashing his teeth over it now wasn’t going to do any good.

  “So? Don’t you think it goes well with this music?” Mori’s soft voice flowed through to him. “Chronos has been releasing only upbeat dance music until now. We were thinking of adding a ballad in their first album, and we thought this was perfect. We can promote the fact that Chronos’ newest member wrote the lyrics himself. It would be a newsworthy material.”

  Kento almost missed the meaning of what Mori said.

  “Wait, Mr. Mori, what did you just say?”

  “I said Chronos’ newest member. I’m talking about you.”

  Kento’s mouth hung open as he stared at Mori inside the booth. “Wait, so was that an audition just now?”

  Before he knew it, the other three members of Chornos had come in through the open studio door and were standing behind Kento.

  “Welcome to the group,” said Oka, the leader, gripping Kento’s hand.

  “Nice to have you,” Nishimura said brusquely, turning to the wall.

  Tomoya stood on his toes and whispered into Kento’s ear. “You were supposed to be a member from the beginning. Your knee injury just delayed things a little bit. I overheard,” he added.

  “That’s why…” That’s why he had given Kento their new song and told him he should learn it. He was truly thankful for that. Unfortunately, Tomoya’s effort at discretion backfired.

  “I heard that. That’s off the record,” Mori said, laughing as he made an “X” sign with his index fingers. The sound-collecting microphone at Kento’s mouth had apparently caught everything.

  “Whatever the case, I think this ballad is good,” Nishimura said shortly again. “You’ve got talent.” He gave Kento a thump on the back. It appeared to be Nishimura’s way of acknowledging him as a member.


  Kento snapped up, his back straight as a board. “I have a lot to learn, but I hope you’ll treat me kindly,” he said, and bent his body at exactly ninety-degrees in a formal bow. After split-second pause, a burst of laughter erupted both in the recording booth and outside of it.

  Chapter 10

  ...I’ll send all my loving to you.

  Kento finished singing. The vibration of the guitar strings gradually died down and disappeared into the silence of the studio. The MC, Tawara, snapped out of his trance and began to clap.

  “There you had it! ‘All My Loving’ sung by Kento Yamashiro!” He then looked at the other MC, Matsukawa. “Well, Matsukawa? What did you think of his guitar?”

  “It was goof,” Matsukawa said, raising one thick thumb.

  “Whoa, Kento, did you see that? You got approval from the Matsukawa!”

  Kento sensed Matsukawa staring at him, looking like he wanted to say something. But instead, he silently bowed his head and took the guitar strap off his shoulder.

  “Alright, then, let’s hear about the song we’re going to hear today in the studio!”

  “Our first album goes on sale in March,” Oka said as the leader, looking at the camera. “This is one of its songs, and it placed tenth on the Oricon billboard charts. ‘What Love Is’. Enjoy.”

  The song was already a pre-recorded video which would be edited in before the show went on air. Once Oka finished introducing the song, the assistant director flashed a board from where he was squatting on the ground. Wrap up, it said.

  “So there you had it, this week’s MVG, Chronos!” Tawara said when he saw the sign. He raised his hands and went into wrapping up the show. “So, all the good boys and girls out there, and the naughty ones too, and all the gramps and grans watching this show at home, see you all next week!” he said, garnering laughs with his comical attitude.

  “Same channel, same time!” Matsukawa, with his contrasting rugged look, pointed at a thick index finger straight at the camera and pretended to shoot a pistol. It was Music Map’s classic close. The ending song faded out.

  “That’s a wrap! Good work, everyone!”

  The scorching lights went out at once.

  The group of four, including Kento, heaved a great sigh.

  “I was sweating like mad from nerves!” Oka stood up and bowed his head to Matsukawa. “Thank you for everything. Alright, guys, let’s get out of their way.”

  Kento got to his feet before Matsukawa stopped him.

  “You hold on a minute,” he said. When Kento turned around, Matsukawa was looking at him with penetrating eyes. “I caught that. I’m not a Beatles fanatic for nothing. You messed up that spot on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Kento nodded honestly. Matsukawa approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You learned that from that person you love, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “You must really love that person.”

  “I do.”

  Matsukawa nudged Kento’s shoulders with both hands and scratched his head fiercely. “I’ll get them to air that part without cutting it. I hope she gets your message. I’ll be cheering for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kento lapsed into thought as he watched Matsukawa’s retreating back as he strode away. He thought of when he had just started learning Beatles songs when he had gotten good enough on the guitar. He had been practicing ‘All My Loving’ when Orihara told him that there was a playing mistake recorded on the LP.

  “That’s why real Beatles fans make a mistake on purpose here, to copy Paul.” Orihara’s smiling face rose in his mind.

  I haven’t forgotten about you.

  If Orihara were to see this show on air?if he were to see Kento play his guitar?would he get Kento’s message? He didn’t know. But Kento was prepared to bet on the small possibility that he would.

  After the recording, the group found Manager Shimoda waiting for them in the dressing room.

  “Time to head out for the office. We have a meeting to get to,” he said.

  “Aww, already?” Tomoya complained. “I was gonna go to Kagurazaka to buy a green-tea Bavarois while we were in the area!”

  Oka laughed as he pulled out his Nike backpack. “I bought souvenirs, so you’ll have to settle with these.”

  “Yay!” Tomoya cheered.

  In the car, Shimoda began talking about plans for a TV special during the Golden Week holidays in May. The sports-themed special was to be aired on Children’s Day on May 5 at the National Stadium, where stars competed against each other in different sports.

  “And we get to be on that show?” Tomoya leaned forward eagerly, but Manager Shimoda shook his head.

  “Nishimura is the only one from Chronos who’s entering the competition. I have something else planned for the rest of the group.” After mentioning that they would officially be assigned their roles later on, Manager Shimoda specifically pointed Kento out.

  “We’ve already decided on the perfect spot for you,” he said. It was a feature that was going to be played between competitions that got up-close and personal with athletes aspiring to enter the Paralympics.

  “Everyone knows that your debut was delayed because of your leg injury. That’s why we thought it’d be perfect for you to be a reporter.”

  “But my injury wasn’t that serious,” Kento protested. “Are you sure I’m fit for this part?”

  “Well, I know you might not like it because it seems like we’re cashing in on it, but…”

  “Then why do I?“

  “You’ve debuted now,” Oka interrupted. “You’re going to have to do a lot of things. This will be a good experience.” Oka had gotten signed with the agency before any of the four members, and had a wealth of experience in the entertainment industry. His argument stood firm, and Kento had no choice but to agree.

  “You know, I’ve had to wear gorilla masks and rabbit suits before,” Oka said ruefully, which made everyone roar with laughter.

  Kento’s reporting work took place during the spring holidays. As he met and spoke with a number of athletes aiming for the Paralympics, Kento began to realize that he had had the wrong idea all along. For these people, sports was much more than a casual hobby to engage in after conquering their injuries or disabilities. These were real athletes in a competitive world, with everything on the line.

  They conditioned their bodies for maximum performance, and had the skills and ideas to make full use of their capabilities. At the very end of his project, Kento met a certain man.

  He was a triathlon athlete with a prosthetic leg who lived in the Shikoku region and also a software developer for a medical equipment manufacturer. The venture company not only manufactured CT and MRI scanners, but was also active in developing prosthetic legs and nursing robots for those with cervical spine injuries.

  The company had a large factory and research institute in Kochi, and the man, named Ishizaka, worked at the research institute.

  One day during the spring holidays, Kento and the TV crew visited the research institute. Despite the intimidating image that came from the “research institute” name, the facility was in fact a large open space like a gymnasium with an array of training machines connected to computers for analysis. It looked like a gym that one would find around town.

  Ishizaka was running on a treadmill with his prosthetic leg. Various wires were attached to every part of his body. His skin was tanned from the sun and his hair was cropped short. His sharp face and thick eyebrows made him look like a rugged actor. Muscles bulged in every part of his body, and his thighs were taut.

  From the knee-down on his right leg, he was wearing a strangely-shaped prosthetic leg. The knee consisted of a metal rotor, and the shin looked like it was made from thin, flexible plastic. The ankle was a metal spring.

  A few researchers were clustered around the monitor, staring intently at it. After fifteen minutes or so of running, Ishizaka stopped and beckoned to Kento and the staff.

  “This is cal
led an electromyogram. It tells you which muscles contract when I run.” He explained the jagged slopes on the monitor that looked like a seismic reading. “My body becomes the research subject. I contribute the data myself so we can make better prosthetic legs,” he said.

  Triathlons involved swimming, running, and bicycling, which required different prosthetic legs for each. Ishizaka sat down on a nearby chair and took off his prosthetic leg to show Kento. His real right leg was amputated from the mid-thigh downwards. Kento stared unflinchingly at his leg. Then, he touched the prosthetic leg lying beside it.

  “This must be an artificial joint that works in place of your knee. And instead of a hinge, you use a rotor ? that’s a good idea. When you land, this spring absorbs the shock. That’s pretty amazing,” he said, impressed. “This is an amazing leg!”

  Ishizaka looked at Kento with surprise. “You’re pretty honest with your reactions, aren’t you?” he said loudly. “As long as you’re not afraid to speak your mind, you can be assured there are no barriers between you and me. To tell you the truth, I didn’t think much about you idol singers, but it looks like I was the one discriminating.” He grinned, rolling his big eyes.

  “I really am impressed,” Kento said earnestly. “I hurt my knee and was told I couldn’t exercise for a year. That’s when I learned about the knee joint from my doctor.”

  Yes, Orihara had explained in detail to him, using an anatomical chart, just how complex and well the knee functioned, despite how simple the structure looked at first glance.

  “Until then, I didn’t know. I thought all the knee did was bend.”

  “That’s right,” Ishizaka said. He proudly lifted his prosthetic leg. “Someday I’ll make a knee more magnificent than the one God made. My ambition is to make a knee so great that when an athlete enters a competition with it, he’d make all the non-disabled people jealous.”

  After their filming segment was finished, Kento walked around looking at the computers and training machines. Ishizaka came over to talk to him.