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“You know I just realised something,” Aoi piped up, “I’ve never heard you laugh before.”
“I laugh?” Yusaku scrunched up his face. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from all of a sudden.
“Since when?” Aoi complained. She certainly had no evidence of this claim.
At this rebuttal, Aoi pouted as she cuddled further into Yusaku’s side. Her head was nestled on Yusaku’s shoulder though her sudden exclamation caused him to rankle. He screwed deeper into the lounge to give Aoi some room. He had such an uncomfortable and scrawny frame but she was no better. The plush blanket that they shared as they watched the trash on television helped, however.
“I know you laugh but I can’t think of a single time I’ve ever heard it.” Aoi pointed out.
“What about you?” Yusaku played the obvious defensive card in this weird argument which wasn’t an argument but would become an argument if played wrong. “I’ve never heard you laugh.
“I also laugh!” Aoi defended herself but Yusaku had made a good point. Even if she was loath to admit. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had laughed.
Neither were very humorous people. No funny bones whatsoever to speak of in either of their bodies. There just wasn’t much to point and laugh at in their lives. They had overcome so much, come so far, and now they could relax in silence and serenity. For them, a handshake was better than a kiss and sitting on the lounge, unmoving, was better than bellyaching. They were fine with that. They were serious people in a serious relationship: their affection was awkward and stilted, but only from the outside looking in. They both knew they would never truly fit a normal mould of life and made peace with that but for some reason, Aoi belaboured her point.
After all, laughter was the best medicine and they could probably use a little dose of it all things considered.
“It could do us some good to at least try.” Aoi pouted. “Let’s throw on a random variety show and at least try to find something to laugh at.”
Yusaku withheld the urge to roll his eyes but Aoi did notice it. The way his lips peeled slightly, the increase of an inhale. He didn’t see much value in it, to him all television was trash television but even so, he obliged Aoi’s wish for them to lighten up for once in their lives. So, he picked up the remote and they channel surfed.
From one channel to another, from prestige drama to children’s cartoons and everything in between. For them, the television’s presence was merely to create ambient noise beyond their breathing and whatever little chatter they made in between those breaths. But, eventually, he settled on something which was just beginning based on how the opening credits whirred and oh boy.
This was going to be a doozy.
The open credits were set to a staccato theme which showed all kinds of whacky and out of context moments. Where there was meant to be a silence in the theme, there were of course non sequiturs from the comedians who opened up on a stage in several seats of varying levels of extravagance. Seven of them in total: five competitors, one headmaster, and one assistant. The headmaster opened the show with a quip and the live studio audience applauded.
Aoi and Yusaku found the quip to be a little mean but having no investment in anyone on stage (just yet), they settled in and let the show roll on at its own and zany pace. Next thing they knew, they were put through a snap round of introductions but none of them stuck and then the first scene of the show actually began.
Oh boy.
So, the premise of the show was that the comedians had to act out a bunch of different tasks. The better, or worse, they did depending on how much they pleased the judge would score them points. Obviously, the better they were the better the points but sometimes if the comedians found a way to evade the letter of the law just right and if something happened to go spectacularly wrong and made the headmaster laugh, he would be lenient. The assistant also stuck around to give hints, advice, and moral support: mostly, he was moral support the same way a punching bag was with most contestants firing off different quips at him or straight up throwing things at him.
In the first fifteen minutes of this television show, Aoi and Yusaku had no idea what they were looking at. Par the course for how Japanese comedy shows were perceived due to their reputation; well earned or otherwise. They also did not know that milk could be used that way. It seemed wasteful to them but the audience at large laughed it all off as the comedians made great messes of themselves.
The ad break couldn’t have come sooner, quite frankly, and they were just as entertaining as the rest of the show had been thus far. Which is to say, not very funny or entertaining at all but at this point, there was a point to prove so the remote remained untouched the show kept playing.
In the second segment of the show was a group challenge. Yippee. The contestants were split into two groups: one duo and one trio. Yes, they were given silly names to define their identities as a unit. No, neither Aoi nor Yusaku found the silly names to be amusing. Together, they took on something which involved a lot of physical comedy, an ability to trust one another, and a whole lot of balloons.
“You know…” Yusaku commented. “Someone would have had to play-test these challenges that the contestants go through to make sure they’re safe and doable.”
“Oh definitely.” Aoi agreed.
“I can’t help but feel that would have been the more interesting premise for the show. Ordinary people doing out of the ordinary things…” Yusaku said.
“Yeah, maybe, the comedians are try-harding for points.” Aoi added.
To that astute observation, Yusaku nodded but they continued to watch the television show though now with the wondering in the back of their minds: how exactly would they go doing any of these things?
The gap moe had appeal as once more, they were serious people and serious people doing inherently silly things with as little or much dignity as possible might very well be comedy gold but alas. That was not the television show and so they watched as more points were doled out but not a single giggle was had. Not even so much as a snicker or an unusual exhale to denote some kind of amusement. So far, the reaction was very little.
By now the show had gone on for about half an hour, not including ad breaks, and as such, the contestants were in the end game. Their scores were tightly clustered and more quips were spouted off as up next was the live studio challenge. The stage behind where all the comedians sat revealed itself to have quite the arena hidden behind its unsuspected, scarlet curtains of velvet.
For this challenge, the contestants were blind folded and armed with leaf blowers. The producers had gone ahead and invented a brand new game for these people to play and it was intense. There were highs, there were lows. The audience cooed and harrowed at every twist and turn as the comedians bumbled around on the stage trying to play something which would resemble soccer if soccer were played by aliens.
Now despite the intensity of the competition, Aoi and Yusaku felt very little towards it all. The rivalry was in all farce and neither of them had picked a favourite. Thus, there was very little fanfare from them whilst a winner of the episode was crowned in a ceremony of trumpets and trinkets. The audience clapped and cheered, the fellow contestants were good sports about it and showed camaraderie towards the episode’s champion and that was that.
The show was over and, finally, the scene went to black as the curtains swished and enclosed the arena once more. The credits rolled and Yusaku’s eyebrows furrowed inwards.
“Well, that was forty five minutes of our lives we are never going to get back.” he remarked.
“And through it all… We went an entire forty five minutes… Without laughing…” Aoi sounded shellshocked.
She glanced at Yusaku and Yusaku shrugged.
“For comedians, they’re not really good at their jobs.” Yusaku quipped.
A twitch on Aoi’s lips ensued, “I suppose.”
“We have far more mature senses of humour.” Yusaku continued.
“Oh, absolutely.” Aoi tried to lie blatantly but her body language betrayed her.
Her nose scrunched. Her lips twitched. She felt it. A flicker through her sinuses and a jitter inside of her lungs. She met Yusaku’s eyes and he felt the same.
They laughed. Together. As one. And quite raucously at that, a feedback loop, really. One laughed, the other laughed, then the other laughed at the fact the other was laughing and so on and so forth. Until neither of them actually knew what they were laughing about.
“Okay, okay, it was actually kind of funny when that lady slipped on the milk stains she had created.” Aoi said. “Like? What was she thinking?!”
“And it was so gross when it came out of that man’s eyes.” Yusaku said.
“Oh, oh, and during the balloon challenge, the way that man squeaked was so funny. He was so huge and bulky but he sounded like a squirrel because the balloon popped, it wasn’t even that scary!” Aoi jeered.
“The live challenge was kind of funny, too, like when they-” Yusaku couldn’t even finish his sentence, he had to wipe a tear out of eye and hold onto his belly because it hurt from laughing.
The mirth of Yusaku’s face was like nothing Aoi had ever seen before. She could hardly believe her eyes as her laughter faded but the twinkle in her eyes, head over heels in love with Yusaku, only got brighter. This was a very different side to him and even her and both of them, actually, but she liked it. She really liked it. Their laughter was awkward and gawky and unrestrained. Loud, too, if not obvious by now as they got years of pent up humour out in one go. The atmosphere lightened and their voices went hoarse as they finally stopped laughing.
After this moment of repose, of letting the laughter die down, Yusaku posed a shy suggestion: “Do you want to watch something else? Maybe another comedy?”
“I’d really like that.” Aoi smiled with a hint of a chuckle to her lips.