Chapter Text
June 14th, 09:58 pm
First impressions
“C’mon, Nanami, we’re gonna be on air soon. How hard can setting up a single laptop be?”
The aforementioned woman is currently fussing with a half-dozen different USB cables which Hinata's never seen before, having deemed them unnecessary. She stares at the entangled mess of wires with a pinched frown, as though they've somehow managed to offend her. Once Hinata musters enough deeply annoyed courage to speak up, Nanami turns her head in his direction with the type of slowness that belongs in horror movies. She shoots him a flat stare as though he's stupid or something for not realizing the severity of the situation that they're currently stuck in. Go back to horror movies, Nanami, there's nothing left for you to do in this world.
She peeks at him from underneath the table covered in a pile of useless shit that they obviously won’t need, face partially obscured. The top of her pink hair is coated in a fine layer of dust. There’s even a tiny dust ball stuck on the side of the dye-fried strands. Hinata squints to confirm, that yes, it’s indeed a dust ball, a monstrosity that only ever forms in unkempt places (read: here). The last time this studio had been cleaned was probably way before Columbus discovered America or even waaaay before that. Hinata continues glowering at his coworker in his patented ‘warning: douchebag spotted’ way and purposefully avoids mentioning the clingy dust balls. Nanami hates them with a feverish passion, just like she hates broccoli, and that one old cat lady living next door. If she knew that either one was stuck in her hair, she'd go into a swift cardiac arrest. Perhaps three in a row.
That would serve her right for bringing him along - no, that's not right, let's say dragging him - into this mess. It’s quite bothersome, really. Hinata's already done even though the show hasn’t even started yet and he’s more than ready to leave, but Chiaki reads his mind like always, sending him a warning look that could melt metal. Oh, to be stuck with Nanami Chiaki in the same room, growling and snarling at him like a wild dog. Waiting for the swift release of death by USB cables.
Unfortunately, signing up for a late night radio show is Chiaki’s idea of fun. Hinata has to disagree. She calls him a stuck up and he bites back that his and her ideas of entertainment are vastly different. She then tells him to shut the hell up and pass her a wire that rests next to his foot.
You see, despite mumbling and grumbling, Hinata knows that he'll be staying here until the very end because one does not simply say no to the pink-haired woman. It’s a bit unsettling and he has multiple questions, such as how are they even supposed to properly host a late night radio show? It's a time slot from 10 pm to midnight and he’s not entirely sure how this is supposed to be fun when all of their listeners are bound to end up being rando drunks and perverts. Dealing with assholes isn’t his strong forte - if anything, things always tend to escalate as it never fails to rile Hinata up.
“Turn that frown upside down, sire. You have to be extra charming tonight or everyone's going to be turned off by your doucheness. Our first impression will be bad. No listeners equals no ratings.”
Hinata doesn’t say anything to that, only crosses his arms, huffs, and plays with the cord of his ancient headset. Chiaki finally wrestles the right cable into her laptop and untangles her legs from the mess that's waiting for the right moment to strangle her. She tells the multicolored wires to suck it, shoving the rest under the table.
She’s lovely as ever. Hinata can’t help but smile at that.
It’s his 'up-to-no-good' smile. Chiaki catches on pretty quickly. “Is there something wrong?” she dusts off her black hoodie, completely neglecting the white mess settled on her hair. It makes Hinata’s shit-eating grin grow. “No, seriously, cut the crap. Is there something wrong with how I look?”
“You look as beautiful as Snow White.” He stresses the words Snow White, and Chiaki, in a terrifying moment of realization, pats her head right where the dust ball hangs off. Her face turns pale. Hinata lets out a loud guffaw and hits a hand against the tabletop.
“Ew, gross! Asshole!” Chiaki barks, frantically wiping at her hair. “What is wrong with you!?”
It’s unusual for her to scream out like that - she’s usually calm and collected, not one to show extreme emotions - but the frown that twists her face, as though she's just discovered a spider shoved down her underwear, is priceless, and he’ll be damned if it isn’t funny as heck.
If their time spent together in this overstuffed kingdom of old junk and cables ends up being a fraction of fun sparked by this brief, yet precious moment shared between them, then perhaps Hinata won’t mind working here that much. It’s pretty insane that they've even managed to land a job here in the first place. It won’t be for long, two months at best - just a little something to pass the time during the summer. The studio hardly hires anyone, unless you’re some big-shot who's just finished oratory courses, with at least three recommendation letters up your sleeves.
One more activity to add to Hinata's long, long list named 'weird places I’ve worked at without getting kicked out after four days'.
It’s not like Hinata has a better way to spend his evenings - studying just isn’t that appealing, and the only night jobs that are more than willing to take him are of the strip club kind. As much as he likes looking at girls and guys alike taking off clothes to some upbeat tune, Hinata also thinks that he can do so much better than that. Wage-wise, of course. He figures that he shouldn’t sink to that level - not yet, at least. Not to mention the creeper of a boss that he would've had in that place - his demeanor and smiles most definitely spoke of ulterior motives, ones that involved Hinata throwing his clothes aside somewhere more private. Hinata wasn’t about to bend over that fancy mahogany table anytime soon, so he said fuck it and left the job interview like a gentleman, almost breaking stuff in his haste.
And so, cue a chorus of angels. As though hearing his prayers, Chiaki descended to his tiny - and not all that unkempt, shut up – apartment. She then proceeded to stroke his "weirdly-shaped" hair with her angelic hands and followed it up with an eloquent "yo, we're gonna work at a radio station. I didn’t tell you anything about this beforehand because I knew that you'd say no. Haha, it's too late for that now, you absolute loser, let's get going."
Perhaps not in these exact words, but you get the gist.
And then she took Hinata's favorite strawberry ice-cream that he'd been saving up for Friday night. He had that thing hidden away from her meaty claws! Hinata tried to explain that he'd called dibs on it - it was his food for God’s sake, paid for with his own extremely limited money - but Chiaki didn’t have any of it, spooning away.
(Hinata is convinced that she has a sixth sense for sweet stuff. It's probably a girl thing.)
While Chiaki gobbled down his precious frozen treat like there was no tomorrow and half-listened to Hinata’s frantic bitching, she let it slip that she was on very good terms with the person in charge. A little bird had told her that the ex-pair of hosts had ended up hooking up, leaving behind their time-slot for a fabulous summer-long honeymoon. Afterwards, all that Chiaki had to do was make doe eyes at the manager, flutter her purple mascara-coated eyelashes, stick out her lower lip for pity points, and the poor unsuspecting lady had caved in.
Unfortunately, Hinata wasn’t really listening to his future co-host's explanation, too busy stewing in his ice cream-induced anger.
And now they're here at Cable Land.
Naturally, he tried to slip away multiple times, but to no avail. And now some chick with - which size comes after Z? – cups is banging on the thin glass separating the small sound booth from the equally stuffy hallway, red-painted lips mouthing something. Desperately, Hinata wants to sneak in a dumb blonde joke, but figures it to be poor taste and insulting to the fair-haired ones; the chick must've been born stupid because it's common knowledge that this particular glass doesn’t let through any sound. He isn't sure how she's working here. After a (very entertaining) while, it seemingly hits her that the soundless gasping is nothing more but meaningless air consumption. Only then does she finally look up to point at the neon red sign that spells "ON AIR" in big, bold letters.
Chiaki is already in position, waiting. With a final sigh, Hinata rubs at his throbbing temples.
This is going to be a long night.
It could've been worse. Way worse.
The show is actually fun.
They even get callers and none of them are of the drunken variety.
“Hello and welcome everyone! You are now listening to Monomi Radio!” Chiaki sweetly chirps into her mic and Hinata is instantly left behind with a slack jaw. It's like she's suddenly become a whole new person entirely. Normally, he'd think that all of this is a really bizarre dream, but Chiaki’s face is expressionless as always; a constant in his life that doesn't fail to bring Hinata right out of his trance. A sobering bucket of ice-cold reality. It's almost like she's been programmed to be an entertainment robot on command or something like that. Then again, she always acts like a sci-fi android - perhaps Chiaki's not even real at all? Hinata will have to test out that hypothesis later - after work. “We are your new fun-fun host duo NanaHi.“
“NanaHi?” Hinata chokes. Nanami doesn’t bother stifling a small laugh that escapes her, amused by the sputtering. “Hey hey hey, what do you mean "NanaHi"? That’s just dumb; it sounds like a sneeze of an old man! Why not something like HinaNana?”
“Hinanananana," she mocks, "because that sounds lame. You’re pretty lame, you know?” Chiaki pulls at her lower eyelid and Hinata huffs, indignant. “Dear listeners, you just heard the angelic voice of my lame - “
“Hey!”
“Very lame colleague. From this day on, we'll be taking up the slot from 10 pm to midnight from Ritsuka and... her boyfriend. We wish them a happy wedding, may they have lots and lots of babies in the near future. We need that professional future host bloodline,” she claps her hands in semi-faked glee, her face still void of any expression. Hinata chews on his lower lip to hold in his own laughter. Their listeners probably think they're crazy already. “Alright, let’s start over. We are definitely not NanaHi or HinaNana - let’s face it, these sound kind of awful. My name’s Nanami and this is my partner Hinata." Hinata hums a light ‘hello’ into his mic, already getting into their little act. “We'll be doing a little bit of many different things to lighten up your mood. Some gossip, some games, life talk, hobbies, etc. - anything you want, we got it. Feel free to request a particular subject; we're always open to new suggestions. Of course, we'll also be playing some music, and not the stupid stuff that makes your ears bleed after a lengthy day filled with capitalistic labor.“
“No Skrillex.”
“It's a Skrillex-free zone here.”
“Some calming tunes for the mind.”
“Body and soul. Like maybe some rock—“
“Can we really play that? What can we play?” Hinata raises an eyebrow, because it is Chiaki who has the entirety of their music library in her pastel pink flash.
“We shall keep this a secret for now. I'm sure our dear listeners will thoroughly enjoy it.” The devilish glint in her eyes doesn’t mean anything good, he knows that much. "To answer dear Hinata’s question - we're actually alright with a variety of different genres. If you have any specific bands or songs in mind that you'd like to hear, give us a call or request it on our radio station's official page.”
“If those are your video game soundtracks saved in that flash, I - “
“Hey, lay off. Utada Hikaru is a goddess. Don’t pretend that you weren’t singing along in the shower, I heard you.”
“I’m pretty sure that was you.”
“Perhaps. Can’t remember at the moment, hmm… You need to chill, sir. Just close your eyes and let it pull you under; a fountain of good emotions.”
Hinata can’t help it; he instantly imagines a huge fountain crafted from black stone hurtling for his head at 400 km/h. “Fountain of what now? I think you meant a wave - “
“Shhh,” Nanami shushes, closing her eyes. “Don’t speak, hear.” She looks close to drifting off into her sleep mode which bears some resemblance to a monk attempting to reach Nirvana. It's alarming, so Hinata quickly takes the reins before their first show turns into a complete disaster, his voice forcibly confident.
“As you may have noticed, my partner is a hardcore video game fan - no, Nanami, nobody is talking about video games right now, go back to sleep. Before she starts singing along to one of Hikaru's absolute bangers, a thing that she absolutely cannot do without making glass crack - ow, let’s talk some more. We are not meditating here. Now that she’s properly lost in lala land, I can finally introduce us. As we've mentioned, our names are Hinata and Nanami, and that’s the most you’re getting from us. We love to be cautious. I am 21 years old and Nanami is... uh, how old are you again?”
“Rude. Don’t expect me to give you anything for Christmas.”
“Nanami, Christmas is like half a year away.”
“I picked out a good one, too. Now you’re getting coal in that sock of yours and a roll of toilet paper. God knows you need it, stinky.”
“It's so not my fault that you decide to come over at the wrong times!”
“If you say one more thing I'll force-feed you sakura mochi, don’t you dare test me. I am 20 years old, currently not doing much in life. I am a freelance programmer and my good friend here, whom I wouldn’t mind choking if he wasn’t seated all the way on the other side of this wide table, is a good studious fellow and he’s the guy you wanna go to if you want to get your… whatever pierced. A lovely friend of ours is very proud of that labia piercing, courtesy of—“
“You can stop right there.”
“Well, you get the idea. He can do it fast and he can do it painlessly. The two of us tend to work at weird places and we think that this radio show will be a challenge of sorts. I am a proud mom of a beautiful rabbit, when Hinata sleeps he drools, and that’s really all you need to know about us. Now, I'm pretty sure that all of you don’t want to listen to us ramble on about weird stuff for hours, so do call us, kiddos, if you’re up for a chat. You can even request which one of us you want to talk to - you got nothing on me, go sit in the corner and learn from the pros, Hinata.“
“You sure as hell won’t be saying that by the end of the night. I’ll make you eat those words.”
“If I win, you buy me lunch for the rest of your life.”
“A week of free food for me. This is kinda cool.”
“I’ll ignore that sentence, but yes. I accept.”
They send each other challenging stares and seal the deal with sharp nods of their heads.
“And now, let’s start this evening with one of my all-time fave bands which I will never not love: "Panic at the Disco!" with the ever-elegant "Mona Lisa".”
“I honestly expected something way worse.” Hinata laughs into his mic and leans back in his chair. Chiaki blows out her cheeks angrily at him.
“Stuff it,” she growls and works her laptop.
They are off to a good start with their comedy duo act. Surprisingly, people love them.
“No, this is some crazy talk. I would never date this thing!” Hinata gasps into the mic and the girly laughter tingles in his ears like bells swaying in the wind. It’s the second caller that night, who implies that there’s something more going on between him and Nanami. Some good old-fashioned sexual tension, if you will. He’s not sure how they even see it, all they've been doing this evening was bantering about stupid stuff like their preferred types of underwear. Nanami was heatedly explaining to their listeners that briefs made Hinata’s already big ass look too fat and Hinata retorted with her always wearing grandma panties. That conversation in particular ended on a very awkward note for both of them when Nanami was asked for her opinion on thongs and she called them comfortable.
The initial shock of her owning such an item is yet to wear off and still makes his brain fry. No amount of head-desking could ever help Hinata rid himself of this knowledge.
“Excuse you? Says the guy with an ahoge.”
“Are you one to talk, cotton candy? You have pink hair. Pink. Who even does that?”
“Punk never dies!”
“You’re the farthest thing from punk that I’ve ever seen, Nanami. The only punk I do remember is that Kuwata kid from high school and that was laughable.”
“He used to sell some mad kush though.”
“He had nothing on that Hagakure dude. I think he was some sort of weed whisperer. I'll always remember how he used to hide it in his hair and nobody ever found it.”
“He used to forget it himself, I think; remember that one time he got busted because it was sticking out too much? He looked shocked. If our dear listeners are having a hard time imagining how it's humanly possible to hide drugs in your hair, then imagine a palm and stick a human face to it. That’s it. You've got yourselves the weed man.”
“He passed on to Kuwata all of his weed whisperer secrets and techniques, that’s what Naegi told me anyways. Man, those were some great times; oh man, do you remember when you threw up all over the table in the middle of one of Kuwata's parties and then fell asleep on it? It was gross as hell, but it deserves an honorary mention. I feel sorry for the people who had to clean up after you, they were pretty pissed off. You should be glad that Tsumiki and I dragged your stoned ass out of there.”
“I don’t remember that happening. You’re making this up.” Nanami frowns and looks deep in thought, like she genuinely has no idea what he's on about. Hinata rolls his eyes.
“That’s because you were stoned out of your mind, dumbass. Usually when people are that high they don’t remember anything. Nor do they really think about anything other than ‘el-oh-el, look, a shoelace’.”
"I'm pretty sure that one's trip can't be summed up or defined by this cringe."
"Well, it definitely does in your case. You wanted to eat your shoelaces because they looked like, and I quote, "like tasty num-nums"."
“You are an impressive liar, I give you that much. Anyways, I'm not sure how the subject on us totally and completely not dating turned into reminiscing about past weed experiences. I truly hope that the people we've mentioned aren't listening to this. If you are, then I genuinely hope you’re not locked up in rehab - if you are, we hope that this serves as a daunting reminder and motivation to keep up the good work - and the two of us say hi. So remember, kids, weed is wack. Don’t do weed to seem cool. Consider this a serious warning from your marijuana ancestors - us.”
“If you do, we will find you and smack the crap out of you.”
“Weed police.”
Hinata howls like a police siren and Chiaki laughs. They talk about even more useless stuff, get some calls, and check the mail for requests.
Their first night is a top hit.
Neither of them wins the "free lunch for a week" deal because they didn't have any special requests; however, once they leave the building, they mutually agree that they won’t forget about this competition.
They part ways, Hinata takes the bus and Nanami walks home by foot.
June 15th, 11:05 pm
Honorary mentions of undiscovered stage talents
“Now that was a good song, you can’t even argue.” Chiaki wheezes, and Hinata snorts into his bottle.
“This will be our theme song from now on. I want this majestic piece to be played on my wedding day.”
“In other words, never?”
“In other words, I'll buy a boom box and play it every night under your windows to annoy you specifically. No amount of panty throwing will make me stop.”
“I'll throw BunBun at you, then.”
“Keep that devil rabbit to yourself. I don’t think that even hounds would be brave enough to attack it. Why didn’t you name it Lucifer instead? It's far more appropriate.”
“I would have, but then people would know what to expect so it wouldn’t be as fun.” She looks content with that reply and Hinata discreetly rolls his eyes, focusing his attention back on the show, Nanami's already ranting away into her mic.
“Dear Audience, please send in more of your original songs. We love every minute of them. The context doesn't matter - whether it's about a girl you love, the raindrops that shine on the grass, the waiting for the bus in the rain, or the dog that tried to sex you up last night; just like the one that we just played - we'll enjoy it. We are a nonjudgmental community song-wise; if you actually hump dogs, then you need to seek out some professional help asap. In addition, tonight we honor our dearest friend Mioda Ibuki, who's finally found the courage to leave for America and make a name for herself and her band titled ‘Can’t Believe It’s Not Your Baby!’ - we live for her creativity, especially after that renowned press incident. Shine on, you crazy diamond! We love you! Hinata will always be proud that he pierced your - “
“I swear to god, if you say it one more time.”
“Right. Killjoys everywhere, I keep forgetting that you’re a fifty-year-old lady going through the heat flash syndrome.”
“I think it's called menopause - whatever. Shout out to Ibuki for slapping a press representative with a dead fish. I'm still not too sure as to how a human being such as her exists within the confines of our society, nor am I one to question the wonders of nature. To be honest, I'd love to know how one reaches this point, but I'd like to think that the slap was well-deserved. Vaginal piercing-related pondering aside, tonight is the night for all of you bright-eyed musicians out there to finally become visible to the public eye. Let the world hear you, tell us your stories. When did you begin developing an interest in music? Was it always within you?”
“Like the force.”
“May the force be with you, Audience.”
“Failed and successful tours, weird incidents. Go anon if you want. We love everything you feed us, kiddos.”
“Gossip about the new fad that has finally reached Japan like the bubonic plague, and is ever so slowly making me lose faith in humanity – twerking. Your thoughts?”
“Your feelings about two flesh mounds shaken before you?”
“Does it arouse you?”
“Are you turned on?”
“I know that we are!”
“Give us a call and we can… discuss it more intimately.”
They lower their voices to seductive whispers, and then, as an afterthought, Nanami adds. “No private services allowed. Enjoy yourselves with some "Death Cab for the Cutie" tunes.”
The stories that they get are hilarious, especially from the girl who is quite popular and doesn’t bother hiding the fact - Hinata can tell he’s heard her voice before, but cannot place where - complains about some 'fire-crotch' who hid inside her birthday cake and then jumped out at the most inappropriate moment, butt-naked and all. He was arrested for it, but the nightmares that the girls of the band had had never stopped. She describes it as the worst birthday party ever; when the freak jumped out to surprise her, she wasn't even in the room to see it, busy washing her hands in the bathroom. She walked in there a second too late, her mother in a lowkey-cardiac arrest state from the sheer horror. When she tells them that, Hinata and Chiaki feel like shit for laughing, but the girl reassures that it‘s an exaggerated expression, so they start snickering once again. Ah, the fans are horrible. Hinata is cracking up at some dude and his sax incident, and the songs are a topping to the cake. They hear the strangest of things and Hinata doesn't need to ask Chiaki to save all of these glorious gems in her flash.
Once they're done, he rings up Ibuki just for the hell of it. It's 1 am, but it doesn’t matter, because he knows that she never sleeps and the happy woman rants his ear off, thanks for promoting her on their show. At least she’s not mad, so there’s that.
June 20th, 10:12 pm
Art and photography
“Listeners, we've received plenty of fan mail this week requesting us to do a similar show to our last one, but this time involving art and photography. We thought why the sudden interest in it? But then I did some research and realized that it must be related to the fact that it's Shinjuku Art week. Now, while I'm not a big fan of art and crafts, nor is Hinata here, let us tell you a fine story of our adventures at the expo yesterday. Yes, you heard that right; we went to an actual art expo and enjoyed it quite a lot - how totally unexpected of us - so much that we didn’t find any stuff to make fun of. It was a very pleasant evening, indeed.”
Somewhere in a spacious pristine room, an unnamed man lazily shuffles in his seat and blinks the tiredness and sleep lingering in his eyes. He stretches his arms above his head until there’s a pleasant pop resounding in his spine and sluggishly clears some of the photographs strewn across the table. He turns up the volume of the radio a little louder and slowly peels away the layers of a stuffy suit. It's uncomfortable and restricting, and he probably shouldn’t have fallen asleep with it still on. He slowly pops open the buttons of his black button-down, but the drowsiness dissipates soon after.
“…So you see, I have this friend who lives one floor above me and she's threatened me with castration in case I failed to attend the expo to praise her godly photography. Trust me when I say this, she’s amazing. I mean, a lot of things look appealing to me because I know jack about photography in general, but hers just sticks out from the rest. I'm not the only one who approves, far from it, really. So, she barges in at 10 am - even though I always sleep until 11:30 am, it's common knowledge - like, one would say, the evil angered witch that she is, stomps in while I'm still in my boxers and threatens me. And while she probably didn't mean the castration part - I don't want to test her threats because I'm more than 99.9 percent sure that she wouldn’t hesitate to act on them- I know for a fact that the threat of causing noise at 3 am is the real deal. Happened before, but it doesn’t matter. Of course, I took Nanami along - because who wouldn’t take along this little sassy annoyance - to soothe Koizumi’s nerves—“
“That’s the only reason? You wound me. I won’t let this slide.”
(And she truly doesn’t.)
“And I guess we had an awesome time. I saw a lot of nice art - cool installations, by the way, don't pass up this opportunity - and the photography section was damn gorgeous. I even have some names in the back of my head and I'll make sure to check out their other works.”
“Take notice of that statement, loves, because some fresh gossip is coming right up. You see, dear listeners, our darling Hinata here is in deep, deep love with a stranger. You should've been there to witness it. He simply couldn’t tear his eyes away…”
“Shut it, idiot. Just because I liked his works, doesn't mean that I'm hot for the guy.”
“Oh sure, sure. If any of you know this Nagito person, his expo presented at the Honju building, section 3A, please contact Hinata Hajime; he’s harboring a burning desire to meet him in person. I don’t want him crying into his pillow every night, alright? So do me a favor.”
The man listening to the show chokes on nothing once he hears this. This is absolutely not happening.
Someone is genuinely enjoying his work?
Komaeda Nagito slides back into his chair, green eyes wide and cheeks flushed pink, as the radio male host-Hinata, was it?-stutters, trying to salvage the situation.
“There was something about it... I'm not exactly sure what...” he trails off, voice too gentle, and his listener doesn't need to see his face to know that he’s feeling a tad shy. To be honest, he's feeling a bit flushed himself too, not really used to other people complimenting him.
“Let me translate this to human language so that the rest of us can understand. We left Koizumi to attend to her important business; in other words, spend time with her date. Then we explored a little and stumbled upon something amazing. Those photos were very nice, indeed. I fully understand Hinata’s sudden love—“
“Shut up!”
“But sadly, we've failed to meet the man himself. Koizumi helpfully pointed out the picture where the artist himself was caught. It was an awesome pic - if you guys visit the building, make sure to pay close attention. I've never seen the sky look so pretty, almost like… cotton candy. Unfortunately for us, he was facing away from the camera…”
“I really liked the pose there. I wonder where it was taken? Looked quite high up.”
The photographer shifts in his seat, shivering slightly, face flushed a deep maroon. “It was taken in France… The sky was very beautiful that evening, Hinata-kun… Very mesmerizing, indeed.” Komaeda knows that he cannot be heard and that he’s talking to no one in particular, trying to convey his feelings. His white hair falls into his eyes and he carefully brushes the stray strands away, gaze fixed on the same photo that Hinata was describing. He felt rather daring that evening as he climbed on the rail of a tall building and balanced himself on the very edge, arms spread wide to keep steady, forest-green coat billowing. It was an amazing feeling and his camera had caught it quite nicely. The angle made it look like he was about to embrace the city and the strawberry pink sky - a very valued shot in his collection.
“He bought a print, dear listeners, isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”
The man’s eyes widen while Hinata sounds like he’s choking on something.
“Do you have no shame? We can respect my privacy!”
“I just want the world to know of your beautiful love story.”
“"Beautiful love story" my ass!” For some reason, that harsh statement stings the white-haired photographer's fluttering heart. “But yeah… I truly loved it. The photography, don’t you leer at me like that!”
“Uh-huh, alright. So here you have it, listeners, that’s our romantic love story that could rival… uh, I dunno. Nothing comes to mind at the moment - well, you get what I mean. A love between a faceless stranger and our lovely Hinata. I hope that someday his feelings will be returned!” She fakes crying, followed by a deep sigh, the man’s grumbling sounding like thunder. “And now, tell us about your experiences. Did you go to the opening ceremony like us or are you planning on visiting the gallery this week? It's a must-see - don't be lazy, people, leave your flats and go out to socialize. It will do you good. If you've attended yesterday, tell us more! Did anything in particular stick out? Give us a call as always, and for now, let’s listen to some tunes! I still have to calm down our lover boy here - he’s blushing like a tomato. I hope he doesn’t pop or there'll be a lot of sauce to clean up afterwards. We will be back with you shortly!”
“Thank you for all of those wonderful stories, I'm sure that if all of us work together, we can unravel the secret. Hinata, it looks like you've got some serious competition. We still have some time left for more questions and requests regarding the next show’s topics and playlist. Don’t get too carried away though, since the show after that is dedicated to video games, because, as you all know, the world-wide famous game 'Dangan Island' is getting a sequel!“
“And before Nanami here creams her thongs - I will never let that one go, don’t even look at me like that - and goes into a despair-induced seizure, I'd like to thank all of you for listening to Monomi Radio. We had quite the crowd today; it’s the first time that we had two or three calls waiting on the line. If some of you didn’t have the time to chat, please write leave your comments and questions on our webpage!“ Hinata’s attention gets drawn in by the two lines lighting up at the same time and he picks out the left one - his favorite one, while Chiaki always goes for the right. But fuck her - Nanami is still in her despair-induced trance, her thoughts with the video game only.
“Hello, this is Hinata and I'm the one taking the calls while Nanami is out of order - and doesn’t show any signs of waking up soon - you’re live on Monomi Radio.”
“Um, hello, Hinata-kun!” The voice sounds a little abashed and Hinata smiles to himself. It’s always nice to help the more anxious callers get over their uneasiness and make them feel welcome.
“Ah, the ‘-kun’ is not really necessary... but if you insist. Do you have any special requests, um...?”
“Komaeda.” He can almost visualize the fidgeting and it's kind of cute, because the guy has a really nice voice, which is highly weird because guys aren’t supposed to have cute voices like that? It stands out from the rest of their callers just like his name, but Hinata isn't too sure why. It’s the same kind of feeling that one gets when meeting a person who shares the same name or surname with someone they knew a long time ago - like middle school, or someone they've briefly interacted with in high school. That kind of feeling. “I wasn't sure if I should give you a call or not, but your experiences in the art expo… well, I was there myself and I know the photographer that you've mentioned.” Hinata perks up at that, his back straight. Even Nanami looks more aware and presses her palm against the headset, gaze focused on the ceiling. “We… are friends. We just happened to listen to your radio show and... he’s really pleased that you enjoyed his measly photography.”
Hinata’s heart thunders and Chiaki’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. He takes in a deep breath in order to calm himself, spinning the cord of the headset around his index finger until it turns dark blue. “Uh… Y-Yes, I enjoyed it very much! By no means are his works measly, though! He should keep up the good work, um… I wouldn’t have minded meeting him.” Hinata blurts out. Chiaki stifles a giggle behind her palm. Hinata shoots her a dirty look. She rolls her eyes at him. Punk.
“The sentiment is returned…” Komaeda breathes out and it's spoken with such honesty that Hinata can’t help but appreciate. “I know some stuff about photography, too, I guess; but I'm not really that good at it. It's more of a hobby of mine. I don’t think it's anything impressive, I'm not sure what people see in it. So in a way… I can sympathize with him. Anyways, I know that you’re running out of time, but I just wanted to tell you that you've got yourselves a new loyal listener. Your show is very entertaining.” The man lets out a quiet laugh and Hinata twists the cord even more.
“Thank you very much. We… are very happy to hear that people actually enjoy it. Nanami, if you are finally awake…?” He sends her a pleading look and she gives him a half-smile in return. She looks pleased with herself like she knows something that he does not.
“Right. So I guess it's nice to meet you, but we are out of time here, so let’s talk again next time. And now for the closing, I bring you something from the calmer repertoire to end this busy day. "Night time" by the ever-chill "The XX". Goodnight, kiddos!”
She cuts the equipment, plays the song and takes off her chunky headset. “Well, that was an interesting conversation. Did you notice anything strange about it?”
“Huh?” Hinata blinks and plays with the sharp piercing sticking out of his brow, seemingly out of it. “What do you mean strange?”
Chiaki takes a sip of her cold coffee, pulling on the hood of her sweater. “Thought as much. Next time we're doing a show regarding love.”
Now this, he understands. “Oh, lay it off,” he growls and throws an empty bottle in her general direction. She swats it away with surprising ease and it bounces back from Hinata’s forehead. He glowers at her angrily, but then a smirk stretches his face. “So I guess I win the "free lunch for a week" game, huh?”
“Fuck you. That was a coincidence, I was out of it.”
“All dirty tricks are fair in war, Nanami-dear.” He laughs at her expression, or lack thereof, and packs his belongings. They need to get out within ten minutes before the next DJ comes in.
“You really are dumb sometimes, you know that, right?” she sighs, takes her backpack shaped like a kitten, and goes for the door, not bothering to wait for him. She turns around to send him a flat look. “No, oblivious is more like it.”
Hinata wants to ask her just what in the hell that even means - and thinks about how he should do it without truly sounding like a fool who doesn't actually understand what he’s talking about - but she’s out of sight before he can do so, leaving him behind even more confused.