YNoMH? (BL)

Off Air 2

Off Air – Story 2

Story 2: Things That Happened Today

Translator Note: This story takes place some time after Volume 1 

For Kei, it was scarier to have symptoms that didn't hurt. Normally there were warning signs such as irritation or soreness in his throat before losing his voice, but once or twice a year, he would suddenly lose his voice with absolutely no additional symptoms beforehand.

"Ah... Ah— Ah—"

Kei sat on the bed and tried to focus his breathing through his diaphragm, but no matter how much he tried, all that came out of his mouth was a shriveled up wisp of a voice like the skin of a wilted grape. Even a tsk of his tongue sounded pathetically dead and flat. Although he didn't have any warning signs, in the back of his mind he had felt it coming. First, there were issues at the recording session for the extended narration job that he had yesterday afternoon. Of course, none of it was Kei's fault. Throughout the session the director kept asking him, "That sounded really good, but can you do it again differently?" like he had only a vague notion of what he wanted the narration to sound like. The inability to make a decision—did he like it or not, dammit—was what irritated Kei the most. He wanted to charge the jackass by the take. Then after being put through the wringer, he had to go on air for the nightly news, then late night off the air he had things, all sorts of things... Basically, it was all his fault.

At least today was a Saturday, that was one small consolation. His throat would probably recover after letting it rest for two days. To be more precise, it was always the weekends when he would lose his voice. He didn't know if it was just a considerate way for his voice to rebel on him.

"Oh, we're outta of eggs today. Is just toast okay with you?" Ushio asked, already up and showered.

You're half the reason for this, Kei thought as he glowered at Ushio and jabbed a finger at his throat.

"Hmm?"

"I lost my voice," Kei croaked with a bizarre-sounding hoarseness; he sounded ridiculous even to himself.

Ushio immediately ran over to the bed, placing his hands on Kei's forehead and his cheeks. "Is it a cold? A fever? Does it hurt? Want to go to the hospital?"

"No, dummy."

But if you make such a concerned expression while you touch me all over, you're gonna make me blush.

Kei pushed away Ushio's hands. "It happens from time to time," he explained hoarsely. "If I leave it alone, it'll get better."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Ushio looked relieved, seeing that Kei had treated it like it was no big deal. He ruffled Kei's hair a few times and gave him an indulgent smile.

Kei couldn't let his guard down. He learned his lesson that Ushio always said the stupidest things whenever he smiled like this.

"Can you say, 'Good evening, I'm Mori Shinichi,'1 for me?"

He knew it'd be something stupid, such as imitating someone famous for a raspy voice.

"Drop dead."

Kei couldn't curse him out as much as he wanted. He hit Ushio in the shoulder with a pillow, and Ushio exclaimed, "It's a joke," to try to defend himself.

"A joke, huh? This is my moneymaker, you know."

"Then shouldn't you put less strain on it?"