When I got my role, I thought I'd be able to slip into it like an old glove, but I suddenly was aware of the fact that I was a child again. I was wearing my first pair of lace-up shoes and I needed to learn how to tie(more) them before the first day of school or I'd fall down in front of the whole class. I needed to work on it every morning. It was hard. I cried. Every moment I tried on those sunshine-yellow shoes, something remained missing and my frustration only grew.
I wanted to act like I'd been Honey Yellowjacket for years, but I was just starting. It was my first year acting. It was my first time on a bike, feet firmly on the pedals, but heading way too fast down a gravel hill. I fell, curling into a ball and wailing as concerned friends and family rushed over. It was dehydration and frustration and something was missing.
I was the child hiding at home, not wanting to go out and play because people on the bus were calling me names and attacking everything I was. Something was missing and I just took my markers and drew smiling flowers. Those yellow shoes taunted me from their spot beside the front door. My hand curled around a black Sharpie. I attacked the shoes, marking them with all my pain in black stripes.
There it was, what was missing. I was a busy bee and now my feet would be too. Time to get out on that stage.(less)
Gotou had never been a morning person to begin with - his apartment was situated just right so that the morning sun never hit the windows at all. With the shades drawn and his head buried just right, on his days off he may not emerge until almost lunchtime.(more) That was, of course, before Masayoshi - even before they were sharing a bed, Masayoshi had a habit of turning up just around sunrise every morning.
Now he was roused by Masayoshi sliding out from under his arm, disentangling well before the alarm. Gotou sighed and buried his face in the pillow, ignored Masayoshi shuffling around and finally could not pretend to sleep any longer as he put coffee on.
He sat up in bed and yawned, then squinted at Masayoshi. His heavy curtains did the trick, the daylight was dim and watery. Even barely awake, he didn't want to miss this.
Masayoshi did an exercise routine every morning. Stretches, warm-ups - some form of kata, abbreviated to make up for the much smaller space he was working in - he was diligent about his routine, although he often switched up the calisthenics. Gotou stretched his arms over his head and scratched his jaw, watching Masayoshi slide from stretching to push-ups.
It really didn't hurt his enjoyment that Masayoshi was only wearing his underwear, either.
Masayoshi hopped up from the floor, breathing hard but steady. He trotted to the closet and pulled out a tee shirt and shorts, then glanced over his shoulder at Gotou and smiled. "Going for a run," he said unnecessarily as he pulled the shirt on.
Gotou turned his head up for the kiss automatically; they had a routine after all. Masayoshi beamed at him. "I'll bring back breakfast," he called, and closed the door behind him.(less)