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27 February 2011 @ 07:39 pm
14 - strangers on a train, ohmiya, AU, g (for now), chaptered ~ PROLOGUE  
This is a little monster that has grown out of the drabble prompts I asked for earlier this week. The original prompt was "i was just thinking recently that i see lots of fic where either a) nino is the girl, or b) nino and ohno are both girls, but i've never seen one where only ohno is the girl. make it happen. romance a plus :D". So, that's what this is. XD Many, many thanks to harinezumi_kun for not only the prompt but being a fantastic beta and dealing with my inability to keep in present tense.

strangers on a train - ohmiya, AU, g (for now), chaptered, 859 words - PROLOGUE
Nino is a salaryman who's trying to stay under the radar; Ohno's an artist just struggling to keep her life in order. Still, they're just strangers on a train.

The first time Nino sees her, he's in love. But that's not really unusual, is it? It happens almost every day on his way into or home from work: he spots a pretty girl on the train and daydreams he's in a relationship with her. When she gets off (she always gets off first), it's like a breakup and Nino's heart clenches as painfully as it would have if it had all been outside of his head. It's just how he is. He's a dreamer.

Until the day she doesn't get off first.

The girl is pretty, but she's not model-like. They never are. Nino's had his fair-share of true relationships with the ones who dress to impress and they never turn out right. No, the girl isn't model-like, but she's perfect. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun, little soft bits floating around her face. A piece sticks up, almost, and Nino thinks perhaps that's the best. She wears glasses, small round frames that have fallen down the bridge of her narrow nose as her head tips forward in sleep. She could have been snoring, but Nino wouldn't know it - he's too far away. The winter is cold this year, the wind biting but the girl's jacket seems far too thin for it. Her scarf hangs loosely around her neck, offering no real warmth. Her jeans are paint-stained, and not in a fashionable way. She's an artist, that much is certain.

But it's her hands that really draw Nino's attention. They're elegant - the fingers are long and the nails pointed into gentle round curves. They're hands girls would kill for, hands that girls would go to salons to have done up with ridiculous rhinestones and cupcakes. Hands that simply have little bits of resin stuck up under the nails.

She'd been on the train at Nino's stop from work, and all too soon the stop for his neighborhood is called. She hasn't gotten off. They always get off first. He thinks maybe, maybe she over-slept her stop. That had to be it. They always got off first.

But when Nino stands to wait by the doors, bare inches away from the slumbering girl of his dreams, she wakes. Slowly, she blinks up at him, her eyes sleepy. She blinks a few more times and then she does it - she smiles.

As Nino steps off the train, he's in love.

Ohno Satomi is exactly as she appears: an artist. Well, to be completely accurate, she's a conbini worker, but her soul is that of an artist. And occasionally, a dancer.

Satomi doesn't mind her life. Her apartment is small, cluttered, and there isn't even room for a proper easel. It's small, but it suits her just fine. Her roommate, Masaki, tends to clutter it up even more with her gaming systems, but Satomi knows better than to try and say no to that smile. Besides, Masaki had the better job – Satomi only had day-old conbini bento's as a benefit.

At 25, Satomi thinks she's happy with her life. She's never needed anyone, really. Why would she? She has her art and Masaki so what else does she really need? It's not like any self-respecting Japanese man would be happy with a wife who zones out, can't cook, is constantly covered in paint or resin and has never bothered to learn how to drive. She just isn't a catch, and she knows it.

Masaki constantly tells her she is beautiful, and will even dress her up to take to the club from time to time. Masaki is truly beautiful: long legs and a bright smile that is quickly making its name across the fashion magazines the girls in Shibuya eat up. It won't be long before Masaki out grows Satomi and their tiny apartment completely.

That was her train of thought, that early February day on the Keihin-Tohoku line. Her face, to those around her, appears to be that of a slumbering train-goer. But she isn't asleep. No, she'd learned that lesson her first few weeks in Tokyo years ago: it wasn't worth the extra fare adjustments.

No, she is only thinking, and that's why it is easy to feel they eyes on her from across the train. In her mind, so many scenarios play out: a tired salaryman, thinking she was probably actually a boy, given her state of dress and trying to piece it together. That’s most likely it. Has to be. Who else would look at her and her paint-stained jeans?

Yes, that has to be it. But… if that’s the case, then why do her cheeks flush so much without her consent?

All too soon, she feels alone again, but then not for long. Slowly, her eyes flutter open and she gazes up at the person who had been watching her so closely. To her surprise, he isn't some tired salaryman. Well, he probably is, but he couldn't have been any older than her, maybe twenty five at the most with a dark shock of slightly rumpled hair and a cute little mole on his chin. It's his eyes that get her though, so bright and smart, even at the end of a long day. She likes that about him the most, even over the cute mole. Slowly, she smiles at him.

For the first time, Satomi is in love.

AN: Phew! I actually have quite a bit more of this brewing in my brain (they haven't even met yet!), so expect more in the coming days/weeks. Again, huge thanks to Jess. ♥
Current Mood: bouncybouncy
Matty DeKayhayatoryulover on February 28th, 2011 03:52 pm (UTC)
That makes me really happy!! = ) <3