[01/03] Plans
Plans
April to May 2013
Summary
Fact A: A steady relationship was not yet in her schedule.
Fact B: He was not programmed to be serious anyway.
Assumption: They had to be good for each other.
Problem: They were too good for each other, in all the wrong ways.
A/N
[20.06, 25 April 2013] Hello, everyone! ::D I’m writing a very long one-shot to keep my head off my impossible chaptered stories. This one is set in the not-so distant future, and based loosely on two books by my favorite romance author, THE Mina V. Esguerra: My Imaginary Ex and That Kind of Guy. Please enjoy!
PS The Sho here might be a bit out of character. Please beware. Also, please forgive me for the first-person perspective. I’m trying something out.
Disclaimer
The mastermind behind this plot derives no material profit from it. While several people, places, and events exist in reality, everything that follows should be digested with a healthy dose of suspicion.
Warning
I cannot write bromance or erotica to save my life.
An omiai is a date of sorts with the intention of arranging a marriage.
Words 5, 291
Timetables
For Arashi
October 2014
Sunday
Over dinner that night, his mother had suddenly implied that she was accepting no less than three grandchildren. I froze, my hand half-bent towards the vegetable hotpot, and for a moment wondered if I was hearing things correctly. But I had unfortunately heard perfectly well. “You’re young, you’re beautiful - Sho’s not bad-looking himself. My grandchildren would naturally take after the best combination of your genes, right?”
There was a commotion from the head of the table as Mr. Sakurai threw a handful of tissues onto his lap.
“You’re getting married?” His father choked out through a mouthful of chicken soup. It was comforting somewhat to see he was slightly alarmed. “Why haven’t I heard about this? Is this true-?”
“It’s not - we’re not getting married,” Sho irritably countered from my left. He sounded exasperated, the same way he often did when I asked him why he could never manage to take the laundry tags off his clothes. “For the love of God, Mother - stop talking about wedding bells. It’s rude to keep bringing this up each time Marina comes over.”
“What’s wrong with anticipating?” His mother frowned. “You’re turning 33. You ought to think about getting married soon. And Marina’s turning 25 in the Summer - she’s perfectly ready to get married, aren’t you, dear?”
“Well,” was all I could say really, with Professor Sakurai gently encouraging me from the other side of the table, and Sho’s younger brother Shuu painfully prodding my right elbow. “We’ve never talked about it though.”
It was true. I’d known the Sakurais and Sho for more than a year, but never had the topic of marriage ever been brought up except as a joke over family dinners. Her son never tried to talk to me alone about it. We’d agreed to propagate the idea that we were dating, and I’d even descended to having his number on top of my speed dial list, but he didn’t seem very keen on sitting down to discuss the subject. In the first place though, I didn’t think I expected him to. He was simply genetically wired to think of nothing much but his career, like a robot.
I liked that best about him.
I felt an awful presence targeted at my forehead, and turned to find Sho staring at me with a frown. From this distance, I could see the crow’s feet and dark circles around his exhausted eyes.
His mother’s frown deepened. “You really haven’t?”
“Mother, leave them be.” Middle-child Mai openly groaned. “They’re both intelligent adults who are perfectly capable of minding their own affairs. They don’t need us egging them on.”
Mr. Sakurai paused from his wine to ogle his first-born. Shuu pressed on with his chicken leg, shaking his head disapprovingly. Beside me, I felt Sho bristle.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, placing his chopsticks down as he rose from his seat. His mother’s eyes followed his movement wordlessly. “I really don’t want to deal with this right now.”
He stepped out of the dining room, stalking off to God knows where. I kept my eyes trained on the feast on the table before me, trying not to fiddle with the pendant on my necklace. His mother had gone overboard with the food as usual, anticipating a happy pronouncement that would probably never come.
I was returning to my hometown in a few months, and Sho and I both knew the Contract would probably end then.
I swallowed a sigh, and tried to reassure everyone. “Please forgive him. He hasn’t been getting much rest lately.”
That was true, too. He had never been the type to sleep properly, but the business venture he had started a few months prior was eating up much of his already limited free time. It was also a fact, however, that Sho was not the type who enjoyed letting his work affect his private affairs. He had always had little difficulty in keeping the two spheres separate.
Which was why his impolite behavior was beyond comprehension.
Bowing my head, I rose and went to follow my fake boyfriend.
__
July 2013
Friday
Professor Sakurai, I had been briefed, had been my mother’s tutor when she was a little girl. Both had gone to the same all-girls school in Nara, and because Professor Sakurai - then Yuuko Fubuki - had been a top student in the high school department, she had been tasked the unwritten responsibility of looking after the children in the lower years. The experience, Professor Sakurai later shared with me, eventually influenced what she wanted to do for the rest of her life: teach.
My mother thought it would only be courteous of me to pay her senior a visit while I was in Tokyo. I would stay there for quite some time, she claimed, and it would be advantageous for me to make some allies who knew the tricks of surviving in the world’s most densely populated metropolis. I tried reminding her Professor Sakurai only moved to Tokyo when she was eighteen, but my mother has the skill of digesting only the facts most convenient for her circumstances.
It would have been the third time I would meet Professor Sakurai for dinner at an Italian place she was fond of, on a typical Friday when all the grey-clad businessmen and office ladies would emerge from their dungeons to rejoin the world of the unencumbered. For some reason, Professor Sakurai had always had her own table reserved in a private corner of the restaurant, and even though on occasion I had passed by the place without her, I had never seen her table occupied. Except, of course, by her and me.
Which was why I had been so shocked to find someone else sitting on the seat I usually took - a man hunched over something on the table, his back to the front door. I nervously glanced at the waitress ushering me, but she merely smiled and led me to my table. The stranger there was still oblivious. There was a steaming mug of coffee by his left hand.
“Excuse me, Mr. Sakurai,” the waitress softly interrupted the man’s solitude. “Your companion has arrived.”
The man looked up, and for a moment I just stared at him. He wore a polite grey shirt with the top button opened, and thin-rimmed glasses shielding large, round eyes. As he slowly rose from his seat, confused, I watched as his hair stubbornly fell into his eyes, as though begging for attention.
I mentally slapped myself.
We stood bewildered in front of each other for yet another moment, before he restlessly stuffed his thumbs into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I-” He bit his lower lip. “I’m waiting for someone, actually. Would you perhaps know who Yuuko Sakurai is?”
“Yes.”I was hoping I would never meet this man. “In fact, I was supposed to be having dinner with her.” I had never been much of a TV viewer, but being so close to a celebrity was beyond surreal. “I didn’t think you would be joining us.”
“Of course,” he pushed his errant hair back as though worried about something. “I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I?” He smiled hesitantly. “I’m Sho Sakurai. I’m Yuuko Sakurai’s eldest son - pleasure to meet you-”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I replied, bowing with what I hoped was a fitting smile. “My name is Marina Shimazaki. My mother is an old friend of Professor Sakurai’s, from Nara.”
“Yes.” He gestured towards the seat opposite his. “Would you like to sit down?”
Between the odd resignation that seemed to be forming a palpable bubble around Sho Sakurai and the fact that ten minutes into the appetizer Professor Sakurai had still not made contact with either of us, there was not much that made that first meal particularly memorable. Attractive man, delicious pasta, and the nagging awareness that I had worn my worst pair of earrings - it was during such moments of mental failure when I cursed having been sent to an all-girls school for sixteen years.
But Sho Sakurai seemed to sense my uneasiness. Halfway through his narration of how he had once hit a stranger with a pointed umbrella, he paused and put his fork down. “Ms. Shimazaki, I understand how uncomfortable this must be for you. Please let me tell you one more time - I had absolutely nothing to do with this.”
“I know,” I reminded him. “You told me.”
“My mother, you see, she has this strange tendency to - ah,” he paused with his hands in the air, frozen in a frustrated half-gesture. “She likes to pair me up with people.”
“Sorry?”
“She thinks I should settle down soon. And so she sets me up with women - all wonderful women, of course - probably in the hope that I’ll fall,” he drew circles in the air, face scrunched, “madly in love with one of them.”
“Like an omiai?”
“Not an omiai - not over my dead body.” He smirked. “They’re more like blind dates. Except without my consent, of course.”
“I see.” I dabbed at my lips with a napkin, feeling almost sorry for him. “So she wants you to get married soon?”
He stared at me as he took his time with his wine. Flicking his hair back, he admitted, “I’ve never introduced a girl to my parents. I suppose my mother must be feeling worried.”
It hit me. “You’ve never had a serious girlfriend.”
The glass in his hand shook slightly. Eyes carefully blank, he asked, “Why would you assume that?”
“You’re in Johnny’s.” I glanced at his face, his hair, the irritating top button on his shirt. “And you look the part.”
He looked away, and chuckled. “People usually tell me otherwise.”
I smiled. “If you say so.”
As he drained the last of his wine, I wondered how much to tell him. Would he even care? “I actually understand where you’re coming from,” I began. Licking wine off his lips, he turned to listen with mild interest. Embarrassed, I motioned for him to keep drinking. “Not that I ‘like to throw my weight around’, too, but my mother has the same tendency as yours.”
“Really?” I could tell this admission genuinely surprised him. “Why would your mother be in a rush? You’re still young.”
“I just turned 23. My mother’s been trying to set me up for years.”
Sakurai laughed. “Well. I certainly didn’t expect to find an ally tonight.” He seemed to be enjoying a private joke as he poured wine for me. “The other women I’ve met - I hope you don’t mind me sharing this - they didn’t seem to hate the idea of settling down. That’s why I’d always thought it a common aspiration for the women of the world to marry.”
“I didn’t say I don’t want to get married.”
“What?” He paused. “Sorry, I assumed by your tone that-”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” I smiled again. “While it’s true that I do want to get married, I don’t want to get married now. Not anytime soon. I still want to try living on my own, and seeing the world, and building a career. So,” I gestured towards him, “I understand completely your irritation at being forced into these blind dates. I don’t like them either.”
“I never said I don’t like them.”
I blinked at him. “Are you trying to get back at me?”
“Tetchy, aren’t you?” He pulled a face, and shrugged. “I don’t like the idea that I’m dating for the sake of finding a wife, but the women are really something else.” He smirked again. “My mother has flawless taste.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way no one’s told you you’re a complete womanizer.”
All efforts at seeming polite abandoned, I dazedly reached for more garlic bread. “You know, I’ve always entertained a strange idea in my head - to get out of this situation, you understand. I thought I’d get to put it into action once I lived in Tokyo, on my own, but my conscience - it’s presenting an inconvenient hurdle.”
I bit my tongue. He smirked again. “You sound like you’re planning to eliminate somebody.”
“Actually, I - once, I considered hiring a ‘boyfriend’ to introduce to my mother.” I shrugged, trying to downplay the fact that my face was burning. I had never told anyone about this plan, ever - not even my best friend Riko. “Someone disposable. Like a host or something.”
Gazing determinedly at the tomatoes on the bowl between us, I continued, “The deal wouldn’t even have to last long. I just need a boyfriend for a few months so my mother won’t think I’m completely incapable of finding someone for myself.” I nodded to myself, feeling suddenly braver. “A boyfriend with an expiry date.”
Sho Sakurai stared at me blankly. “Are you telling me this with the implication that I’m disposable?”
In my head, I believed he was mad at me. But his remarkably calm expression - aside from the bent eyebrow - was impossible to read. I struggled to explain. “All I’m saying is that we - we could help each other out. We both need to have partners our families will be happy with. I don’t want to be in a relationship yet. You obviously don’t want to get tied down. Don’t you agree - from a completely objective standpoint - that we just might be the solution to each other’s problems?”
He raised a hand to fix his hair.
“So tell me. In this mad plan of yours, what would your fake boyfriend do?” He leaned into his chair, surveying me as though I was a preschooler and he was my teacher. “Would he have to take you out on dates and stuff? Take you shopping and meet your friends-?”
“In my head, we don’t do anything. No kisses, no dates, no sex.” He twitched. Fighting the burning sensation that was creeping up my neck, I cleared my throat. “Just one dinner with my mother and the freedom to invent stories meant to satisfy her imagination.”
I pointed out to him, “You know, if we really were to do this thing, your mother would be more demanding.”
Sho Sakurai sighed, took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this. And I thought you were the most sensible woman I’d dated.”
“It’s just dinner - not a date.”
“If you prefer to delude yourself.”
He pushed his hair back again and raised a hand to his lips. I watched his eyes staring off into space, willfully ignoring everything else, and allowed myself just one weak confession. Yes, he was actually endearing.
Sho Sakurai shook his head. “I’m not disposable-”
I sighed. That had been a relief, somewhat-
“-so you won’t have to pay me.”
I perked up, unwilling to believe my ears.
He smiled awkwardly. “You do know I act part-time, right?”
__
January 2015
Saturday
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like if the two us ended up together?”
I stared. It was a week after his 33rd birthday and Sho, counter-plotting his messy appointments to squeeze me into his schedule, had planned a pleasant dinner. I blinked successively, my bouquet of a half-dozen roses limply pointed towards the ground. “I don’t know. Not really. I try not to think about marriage yet.”
“Of course,” Sho nodded reasonably, resuming his footsteps. His boots made heavy tracks in the snow, and flecks of white clung to his dark winter coat. “There’s the dissertation you’re worried about. Graduation’s in a few months. And you’re moving back to Nara.”
“Plus it’s a bit early to think about that,” I added, raising a hand to clear the snow on his shoulder. “I’m fine with this arrangement we have now.” I wrinkled my nose. “Besides you’re a bit older than my ideal husband. A five year gap is probably the most I’ll be able to handle.”
He silently watched me fall into step beside him. By the way his jaw hardened, I could tell something was on the tip of his tongue. “You said you wanted to have two children though. That means you’ve thought about it somehow.”
“The children, yes, but not the husband,” I winced. He was behaving oddly, and I was sure he wasn’t drunk yet. “Not that I have anything against you - you’re a really good friend-”
“I try,” he muttered sullenly. “Nice to know I’m being appreciated-”
“But I don’t want to think too far ahead. I’ll just let life happen, I guess.” I tucked the bouquet under my arm. “Until I’m ready, I’ll just let things be.” An odd ringing started in my ears. “As I’ve said, nothing on you, of course. You’ve been very nice to me, considering.”
I risked a peek from the corner of my eye. Sho was walking on with his hands deep in his pockets, a frown on his face. Inexplicably, I felt irritation bubbling in my chest. “What brought this about anyway? Is it because your manager’s getting married? You’re starting to think of settling down?”
“I just thought that if there had to be a person I wouldn’t mind getting stuck with - maybe, forever - it would be you.” Sho shrugged. “I wondered if you thought the same.”
The way he was looking at me quietly, a small pout on his lips and a dark glimmer in his eye, pushed my confusion to breaking point. I exhaled. “We wouldn’t work out, you know. You’re too controlling, and I’m too stubborn. If we were to end up together, you’d force me to stay at home and-”
“I wouldn’t.” He looked visibly offended, or maybe I could tell only because I knew him so well. “My own mother has a successful career - what makes you think I wouldn’t trust you-”
“Not me - your future wife-”
“Whichever.” He impatiently waved my interruption aside, and stopped in his tracks for the second time. Under the hazy glow of the park lights, I could see Sho’s breath condensing in the gap between us. “So you’ve really never considered it? Not even as a last resort - Last Two People Left in the World argument?”
I bit my lip. “I think of you as my best guy friend. To imagine you as someone more would be a complication.” I felt as though I had jumped into a lake in winter. “I don’t want to gamble and lose what we have-”
He held a hand up. “Is it because I’m in Arashi?”
“What?” I struggled to contain the beginning of a laugh. Sho’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “No, it’s not because you’re in Arashi. It’s because you’re you, and I’m me.”
His hand fell to his side. “Then it’s because of bad timing?”
“No, it’s - I can’t keep up with you,” I blurted out. “You’ve experienced so much already, and I’m only starting out. We’re hardly a good match, Sho.”
He looked so dejected that I felt strangely guilty. It must have been a huge blow to his pride to be told that to his face. Vaguely, I wondered if anybody had ever turned him down. Vaguely, I wondered why I was turning him down. “But if we were the last two people on Earth, and it was part of our responsibility to procreate for the sake of mankind, then maybe.”
“You’re so transparent.” Smiling sadly, Sho deflected my comeback with a smirk. He looked like he was suffering from constipation. “But don’t worry about me. I’m used to rejection.”
Laughing in a hollow tone, he suddenly started bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Shall I drive you home then?” Checking my birthday present, a new watch with an obscenely large face, he added, “It’s only past nine. Maybe you can still catch Shiyagare-”
“I thought we were going to that cake shop Mai recommended?” I peered up at him nervously. “Sho, are you sure you’re all right?”
He shook his head, grinning offhandedly. “I just remembered I have an early appointment tomorrow. I have to be in TBS by 8AM for a magazine interview.” He had stopped bouncing, but through the bulge in his coat, I could tell his fists were clenched in his pockets. “You don’t mind do you?”
Without waiting for me to reply, he walked ahead. The snow made a crunching sound as his feet gently trod over it.
__
September 2013
Sunday
He gaped as I held tightly onto his wrist. Struggling desperately to keep my face calm, I eased my fingers free and returned to the seat opposite his. “I’m sorry. But I hate it when you do that,” I said slowly, running my fingers over my hair. “I’m sorry, but I really do.”
“Do what?” Sakurai looked bewildered as he inspected his fingers. “What did I do?”
“You keep flicking your hair back when it falls into your face.” Hand shaking, I pointed at his hair, which, as we were speaking, promptly fell into his forehead again. “You have this habit of flipping your hair - have you realized?”
“Oh,” was all he managed for a while. His eyes were as round as marbles. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to stop doing that.”
I returned to the notes in front of me. Slowly, he went back to his notes as well. As he lowered his gaze, thick, dark hair fell into his eyes, half-covering the glasses he wore as a disguise. Frowning, I watched him shake his head slightly, under the guise of wanting to chase an errant thought away.
His hair merely swayed and further obscured his vision.
Before both of us sat painstakingly prepared personal information about ourselves, a handful of papers detailing our favorite food, our favorite music, our educational backgrounds and more, all in the hope of making somewhat comfortable the mission we were about to undertake. I frowned as I raised one of my papers higher in order to read it better. He apparently loved Japanese and hated Math. He sincerely believed Justin Bieber wasted his chance to change the world.
I read the strangest truths about Sho Sakurai on sheets of paper. Most of them were so shocking I was sure no media outfit knew about them. To think I had watched some of his shows on TV and felt I actually knew him. But the man concealed too much.
“You left the field for Most Embarrassing Moment out,” he noticed, frowning at something on the paper at his fingertips. “All the answers are very detailed except this one-”
“I farted in front of all my relatives during one New Year’s dinner,” I supplied calmly. “They all laughed at me. It was horrible.”
“Why didn’t you put that here then?”
“Why would I leave a paper trail of my absolute worst memory?” I checked his answer to the same question. He had written: ‘Peed in my bed during a school camping trip in fifth grade’. I fought down a smile as I marveled at his naïveté. Now I had proof enough for potential blackmail.
“I think we’re going to have a problem here.” He suddenly interrupted my imaginings of a little boy in wet pajamas as he looked up from his paper once more. “See, I absolutely hate roller coasters so dates in theme parks are a no-go. Not to mention it’s going to cause a publicity nightmare-”
He paused halfway through his argument, lips parted as he narrowed his eyes at something behind me. Instantly curious, I turned slowly.
A pair of equally interested eyes met mine, as a pretty girl with dyed light brown hair sauntered over to our table. Flashing us both a small smile, she rested her impossibly thin wrist on Sakurai’s seat, standing way too close to be a stranger. She was wearing a tiny green dress with a barely passable hemline, clutching a black bag large and fat enough to qualify as an emergency pillow.
“It’s been a while, Sho dear,” she simpered in an expectedly childish voice. Miss Turquoise Nails spared me a faux innocent look. “Is she your latest girlfriend?”
I smiled thinly. Across me Sakurai looked torn between horror and indignation, his lips struggling wordlessly while his fists clenched on his documents. I patiently tucked my hair behind an ear. “I’m actually his business partner. My name is Shimazaki. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”
Both stared at me in differing degrees of shock and surprise. The girl’s eyes went wide. Sakurai’s eyebrows slowly met.
I smiled wider.
“I’m not a threat, so if you don’t mind…” I batted my eyelashes at the stranger. It was amusing trying to talk to her. “Maybe if we manage to finish our meeting faster, you can meet him sooner, right?”
“No, no, she’s not my-” Sakurai managed to sputter a few words before the girl swooped downward and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then she looked my way very dramatically, her plumped-up lips pouting in a challenge. I politely averted my gaze and returned to my papers. I had told her nothing but the truth.
“I haven’t changed my number, Sho darling. If you need me…”
She fingered the tips of his errant hair before flouncing away, her cute little bottom up in the air. I tried to keep my gaze low, tried not to look too entertained. I had never met such a stereotype, and I had never pegged Sakurai to be the type to be interested in one either.
He gaped at me. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
I nodded slowly in understanding. “An ex-girlfriend?”
“Well,” he cocked his head. “Not really, just-”
He broke off, realizing he was telling me too much, too early, and cleared his throat. He waved a hand before his face. “Anyway, she’s not my girlfriend.”
I stared at him solemnly. He was flushing quite obviously. “Are you dating anyone now?”
“What?” Sakurai paused, eyes large. “I thought we were dating?”
“It’s for show, isn’t it?” I countered, tapping my pencil on his side of the table for clarification. “I’m not your girlfriend. We’re not dating. I’m your business associate, just like I told that girl-”
“I’m not seeing anyone right now, if that’s what you want to know.” Sakurai frowned. “I figured it wouldn’t be good for rumors to go around about me seeing two people-”
“People would find it normal, as long as you keep one discreet,” I pointed out. “Celebrities do it all the time-”
“I don’t cheat!” He banged his fist on the table, so strongly he upset his cup and splashed tea over the blue tablecloth. Straightening his fake glasses and struggling for calm, he repeated, albeit in a lower voice, “I don’t cheat - all right?”
I bit my lip.
“Then all these women-” I pointed at the spot where his fancy not-so-girlfriend had been standing just a few moments ago. “What are they?”
“She’s just one woman.” He returned to his notes irritably, shaking the poor paper in his hand. Its edges were moist with the sweat of his palms. “I don’t juggle. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
He was quiet for a second. Then he suddenly banged on the table one more time.
“Listen - if anyone asks you’re my girlfriend, okay!” He hissed at me, pointing. “For the sake of simplicity, we will introduce each other as such. You will tell significant people - whoever they may be - that we are dating, and I will render you the same favor.”
His jaw hardened. “And put that in the stupid Contract!”
Both hands on the edge of my documents, I blinked. Slowly, I nodded.
__
March 2015
Sunday
Arms crossed on the table before her, Mai watched me take another bite of the mango cheesecake. She seemed troubled. “Marina, tell me honestly. What have you done to my brother?”
I looked up, swallowing. “Nothing?”
Mai raised an eyebrow at me and sighed. “Seriously? Help me out a little here. You really can’t think of anything? I mean,” she pulled at straws in the air, “when was the last time the two of you talked?”
I licked my lips free of icing.
“I emailed him and asked for good Thai restaurants near Akasaka. I’m planning ahead for my graduation party. Although I’m thinking it might be better to have it at home - I don’t think I’ll be inviting a lot of people, anyway-”
“No, I mean, the last time you talked properly.” Mai was shaking her head serenely. “The last time you actually sat down and talked about… things - what happened then?”
Placing my fork on the edge of my plate, I stared at my milkshake and thought back. The last time Sho and I had spoken properly, it was still snowing. The cherry blossoms were starting to bloom now. “Nothing much, to be honest. We celebrated his birthday a week late. He got me roses, and then we went for a walk.”
Mai tilted her head. “You didn’t do anything on Valentine’s Day?”
I shook my head, turning away. How was Mai supposed to understand that we weren’t really dating? “He was too busy. He was busy then-”
But even as I told Mai this, Sho’s faint smile flew into my head. Don’t worry about me, he had said. I’m used to rejection.
I dabbed at the corners of my mouth with a napkin. “Why do you ask?”
“Because - he was supposed to bring you here, this place, right after you had dinner.” She moodily stabbed her strawberry shortcake, grumbling. “And he never did. I asked the staff.”
“Oh yes, sorry about that.” He had said something about wanting to go to Mai’s favorite cake shop, but didn’t seem to be in a rush that night. I thought back on that evening as I reached for water. “He told you, then?”
“I’m friendly with the head waiter here - I don’t need Sho to tell me anything,” Mai waved the question aside. “He had the whole place reserved, you know. There was no one else here but the staff and they had this huge mango cheesecake waiting for you-”
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. Why was I incapable of making the right social choices recently? “I’m not sure, really, but I think I might have irritated your brother then. I said something, and after that he just-”
I gestured with an empty hand.
“What did you say to him anyway?” Mai was unbelievably patient given how little I was obviously willing to tell her. “He’s not the type to change his plans, you see - and that was a pretty big plan he had here-”
“Why?” I could feel my blood running cold. I didn’t like the tone this conversation was taking. Mai had called me out to this place, waiting patiently for my next free weekend, under the pretense of wanting to go shopping afterwards. But maybe being manipulative ran in the Sakurai bloodline. “What was he planning to do?”
“Wait! Me first. What did you tell him?”
I hesitated. Mai didn’t know about our deal - no one else did. “We talked about what I planned to do after graduation. I said I’d be going back to Nara. I told him I didn’t want to settle down so soon.” I found myself gripping my fork for some semblance of support. “I told him I wanted to have two kids, but-”
I met her hollow gaze with a kind of muted horror. “He didn’t…?”
Mai shook her head. “No, he didn’t. Ring in the Cake? The staff told me he didn’t.” She shook her head again, finally taking a bite of her cake. “But he hasn’t made much of an effort to contact you since then, has he?”
I gripped my fork tighter. Aside from a few news bits about the weather and Arashi’s public appearances, there hadn’t been much. “No.”
My companion sighed. She kept her gaze on her cake, slicing and stabbing, and I watched her fingers move. Without taking another bite, she sighed again, and settled deeper into her seat. She reached for her tea.
“Even if he did have one, I’m sure he wouldn’t have put the ring in the cake.” Mai shook her head passionately. “It’s not his style. Too messy.”
Worried, she took a sip of her tea.
Part 2
__
Part 1 End.
__
A/N
I’m not releasing this thing until I finish it. So if it’s out… It’s complete. I’ve finally learned my lesson. ::P [01.40, 24 May 2013]
April to May 2013
Summary
Fact A: A steady relationship was not yet in her schedule.
Fact B: He was not programmed to be serious anyway.
Assumption: They had to be good for each other.
Problem: They were too good for each other, in all the wrong ways.
A/N
[20.06, 25 April 2013] Hello, everyone! ::D I’m writing a very long one-shot to keep my head off my impossible chaptered stories. This one is set in the not-so distant future, and based loosely on two books by my favorite romance author, THE Mina V. Esguerra: My Imaginary Ex and That Kind of Guy. Please enjoy!
PS The Sho here might be a bit out of character. Please beware. Also, please forgive me for the first-person perspective. I’m trying something out.
Disclaimer
The mastermind behind this plot derives no material profit from it. While several people, places, and events exist in reality, everything that follows should be digested with a healthy dose of suspicion.
Warning
I cannot write bromance or erotica to save my life.
An omiai is a date of sorts with the intention of arranging a marriage.
Words 5, 291
Timetables
For Arashi
October 2014
Sunday
Over dinner that night, his mother had suddenly implied that she was accepting no less than three grandchildren. I froze, my hand half-bent towards the vegetable hotpot, and for a moment wondered if I was hearing things correctly. But I had unfortunately heard perfectly well. “You’re young, you’re beautiful - Sho’s not bad-looking himself. My grandchildren would naturally take after the best combination of your genes, right?”
There was a commotion from the head of the table as Mr. Sakurai threw a handful of tissues onto his lap.
“You’re getting married?” His father choked out through a mouthful of chicken soup. It was comforting somewhat to see he was slightly alarmed. “Why haven’t I heard about this? Is this true-?”
“It’s not - we’re not getting married,” Sho irritably countered from my left. He sounded exasperated, the same way he often did when I asked him why he could never manage to take the laundry tags off his clothes. “For the love of God, Mother - stop talking about wedding bells. It’s rude to keep bringing this up each time Marina comes over.”
“What’s wrong with anticipating?” His mother frowned. “You’re turning 33. You ought to think about getting married soon. And Marina’s turning 25 in the Summer - she’s perfectly ready to get married, aren’t you, dear?”
“Well,” was all I could say really, with Professor Sakurai gently encouraging me from the other side of the table, and Sho’s younger brother Shuu painfully prodding my right elbow. “We’ve never talked about it though.”
It was true. I’d known the Sakurais and Sho for more than a year, but never had the topic of marriage ever been brought up except as a joke over family dinners. Her son never tried to talk to me alone about it. We’d agreed to propagate the idea that we were dating, and I’d even descended to having his number on top of my speed dial list, but he didn’t seem very keen on sitting down to discuss the subject. In the first place though, I didn’t think I expected him to. He was simply genetically wired to think of nothing much but his career, like a robot.
I liked that best about him.
I felt an awful presence targeted at my forehead, and turned to find Sho staring at me with a frown. From this distance, I could see the crow’s feet and dark circles around his exhausted eyes.
His mother’s frown deepened. “You really haven’t?”
“Mother, leave them be.” Middle-child Mai openly groaned. “They’re both intelligent adults who are perfectly capable of minding their own affairs. They don’t need us egging them on.”
Mr. Sakurai paused from his wine to ogle his first-born. Shuu pressed on with his chicken leg, shaking his head disapprovingly. Beside me, I felt Sho bristle.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, placing his chopsticks down as he rose from his seat. His mother’s eyes followed his movement wordlessly. “I really don’t want to deal with this right now.”
He stepped out of the dining room, stalking off to God knows where. I kept my eyes trained on the feast on the table before me, trying not to fiddle with the pendant on my necklace. His mother had gone overboard with the food as usual, anticipating a happy pronouncement that would probably never come.
I was returning to my hometown in a few months, and Sho and I both knew the Contract would probably end then.
I swallowed a sigh, and tried to reassure everyone. “Please forgive him. He hasn’t been getting much rest lately.”
That was true, too. He had never been the type to sleep properly, but the business venture he had started a few months prior was eating up much of his already limited free time. It was also a fact, however, that Sho was not the type who enjoyed letting his work affect his private affairs. He had always had little difficulty in keeping the two spheres separate.
Which was why his impolite behavior was beyond comprehension.
Bowing my head, I rose and went to follow my fake boyfriend.
__
July 2013
Friday
Professor Sakurai, I had been briefed, had been my mother’s tutor when she was a little girl. Both had gone to the same all-girls school in Nara, and because Professor Sakurai - then Yuuko Fubuki - had been a top student in the high school department, she had been tasked the unwritten responsibility of looking after the children in the lower years. The experience, Professor Sakurai later shared with me, eventually influenced what she wanted to do for the rest of her life: teach.
My mother thought it would only be courteous of me to pay her senior a visit while I was in Tokyo. I would stay there for quite some time, she claimed, and it would be advantageous for me to make some allies who knew the tricks of surviving in the world’s most densely populated metropolis. I tried reminding her Professor Sakurai only moved to Tokyo when she was eighteen, but my mother has the skill of digesting only the facts most convenient for her circumstances.
It would have been the third time I would meet Professor Sakurai for dinner at an Italian place she was fond of, on a typical Friday when all the grey-clad businessmen and office ladies would emerge from their dungeons to rejoin the world of the unencumbered. For some reason, Professor Sakurai had always had her own table reserved in a private corner of the restaurant, and even though on occasion I had passed by the place without her, I had never seen her table occupied. Except, of course, by her and me.
Which was why I had been so shocked to find someone else sitting on the seat I usually took - a man hunched over something on the table, his back to the front door. I nervously glanced at the waitress ushering me, but she merely smiled and led me to my table. The stranger there was still oblivious. There was a steaming mug of coffee by his left hand.
“Excuse me, Mr. Sakurai,” the waitress softly interrupted the man’s solitude. “Your companion has arrived.”
The man looked up, and for a moment I just stared at him. He wore a polite grey shirt with the top button opened, and thin-rimmed glasses shielding large, round eyes. As he slowly rose from his seat, confused, I watched as his hair stubbornly fell into his eyes, as though begging for attention.
I mentally slapped myself.
We stood bewildered in front of each other for yet another moment, before he restlessly stuffed his thumbs into his pockets. “I’m sorry, I-” He bit his lower lip. “I’m waiting for someone, actually. Would you perhaps know who Yuuko Sakurai is?”
“Yes.”I was hoping I would never meet this man. “In fact, I was supposed to be having dinner with her.” I had never been much of a TV viewer, but being so close to a celebrity was beyond surreal. “I didn’t think you would be joining us.”
“Of course,” he pushed his errant hair back as though worried about something. “I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I?” He smiled hesitantly. “I’m Sho Sakurai. I’m Yuuko Sakurai’s eldest son - pleasure to meet you-”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I replied, bowing with what I hoped was a fitting smile. “My name is Marina Shimazaki. My mother is an old friend of Professor Sakurai’s, from Nara.”
“Yes.” He gestured towards the seat opposite his. “Would you like to sit down?”
Between the odd resignation that seemed to be forming a palpable bubble around Sho Sakurai and the fact that ten minutes into the appetizer Professor Sakurai had still not made contact with either of us, there was not much that made that first meal particularly memorable. Attractive man, delicious pasta, and the nagging awareness that I had worn my worst pair of earrings - it was during such moments of mental failure when I cursed having been sent to an all-girls school for sixteen years.
But Sho Sakurai seemed to sense my uneasiness. Halfway through his narration of how he had once hit a stranger with a pointed umbrella, he paused and put his fork down. “Ms. Shimazaki, I understand how uncomfortable this must be for you. Please let me tell you one more time - I had absolutely nothing to do with this.”
“I know,” I reminded him. “You told me.”
“My mother, you see, she has this strange tendency to - ah,” he paused with his hands in the air, frozen in a frustrated half-gesture. “She likes to pair me up with people.”
“Sorry?”
“She thinks I should settle down soon. And so she sets me up with women - all wonderful women, of course - probably in the hope that I’ll fall,” he drew circles in the air, face scrunched, “madly in love with one of them.”
“Like an omiai?”
“Not an omiai - not over my dead body.” He smirked. “They’re more like blind dates. Except without my consent, of course.”
“I see.” I dabbed at my lips with a napkin, feeling almost sorry for him. “So she wants you to get married soon?”
He stared at me as he took his time with his wine. Flicking his hair back, he admitted, “I’ve never introduced a girl to my parents. I suppose my mother must be feeling worried.”
It hit me. “You’ve never had a serious girlfriend.”
The glass in his hand shook slightly. Eyes carefully blank, he asked, “Why would you assume that?”
“You’re in Johnny’s.” I glanced at his face, his hair, the irritating top button on his shirt. “And you look the part.”
He looked away, and chuckled. “People usually tell me otherwise.”
I smiled. “If you say so.”
As he drained the last of his wine, I wondered how much to tell him. Would he even care? “I actually understand where you’re coming from,” I began. Licking wine off his lips, he turned to listen with mild interest. Embarrassed, I motioned for him to keep drinking. “Not that I ‘like to throw my weight around’, too, but my mother has the same tendency as yours.”
“Really?” I could tell this admission genuinely surprised him. “Why would your mother be in a rush? You’re still young.”
“I just turned 23. My mother’s been trying to set me up for years.”
Sakurai laughed. “Well. I certainly didn’t expect to find an ally tonight.” He seemed to be enjoying a private joke as he poured wine for me. “The other women I’ve met - I hope you don’t mind me sharing this - they didn’t seem to hate the idea of settling down. That’s why I’d always thought it a common aspiration for the women of the world to marry.”
“I didn’t say I don’t want to get married.”
“What?” He paused. “Sorry, I assumed by your tone that-”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” I smiled again. “While it’s true that I do want to get married, I don’t want to get married now. Not anytime soon. I still want to try living on my own, and seeing the world, and building a career. So,” I gestured towards him, “I understand completely your irritation at being forced into these blind dates. I don’t like them either.”
“I never said I don’t like them.”
I blinked at him. “Are you trying to get back at me?”
“Tetchy, aren’t you?” He pulled a face, and shrugged. “I don’t like the idea that I’m dating for the sake of finding a wife, but the women are really something else.” He smirked again. “My mother has flawless taste.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way no one’s told you you’re a complete womanizer.”
All efforts at seeming polite abandoned, I dazedly reached for more garlic bread. “You know, I’ve always entertained a strange idea in my head - to get out of this situation, you understand. I thought I’d get to put it into action once I lived in Tokyo, on my own, but my conscience - it’s presenting an inconvenient hurdle.”
I bit my tongue. He smirked again. “You sound like you’re planning to eliminate somebody.”
“Actually, I - once, I considered hiring a ‘boyfriend’ to introduce to my mother.” I shrugged, trying to downplay the fact that my face was burning. I had never told anyone about this plan, ever - not even my best friend Riko. “Someone disposable. Like a host or something.”
Gazing determinedly at the tomatoes on the bowl between us, I continued, “The deal wouldn’t even have to last long. I just need a boyfriend for a few months so my mother won’t think I’m completely incapable of finding someone for myself.” I nodded to myself, feeling suddenly braver. “A boyfriend with an expiry date.”
Sho Sakurai stared at me blankly. “Are you telling me this with the implication that I’m disposable?”
In my head, I believed he was mad at me. But his remarkably calm expression - aside from the bent eyebrow - was impossible to read. I struggled to explain. “All I’m saying is that we - we could help each other out. We both need to have partners our families will be happy with. I don’t want to be in a relationship yet. You obviously don’t want to get tied down. Don’t you agree - from a completely objective standpoint - that we just might be the solution to each other’s problems?”
He raised a hand to fix his hair.
“So tell me. In this mad plan of yours, what would your fake boyfriend do?” He leaned into his chair, surveying me as though I was a preschooler and he was my teacher. “Would he have to take you out on dates and stuff? Take you shopping and meet your friends-?”
“In my head, we don’t do anything. No kisses, no dates, no sex.” He twitched. Fighting the burning sensation that was creeping up my neck, I cleared my throat. “Just one dinner with my mother and the freedom to invent stories meant to satisfy her imagination.”
I pointed out to him, “You know, if we really were to do this thing, your mother would be more demanding.”
Sho Sakurai sighed, took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this. And I thought you were the most sensible woman I’d dated.”
“It’s just dinner - not a date.”
“If you prefer to delude yourself.”
He pushed his hair back again and raised a hand to his lips. I watched his eyes staring off into space, willfully ignoring everything else, and allowed myself just one weak confession. Yes, he was actually endearing.
Sho Sakurai shook his head. “I’m not disposable-”
I sighed. That had been a relief, somewhat-
“-so you won’t have to pay me.”
I perked up, unwilling to believe my ears.
He smiled awkwardly. “You do know I act part-time, right?”
__
January 2015
Saturday
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like if the two us ended up together?”
I stared. It was a week after his 33rd birthday and Sho, counter-plotting his messy appointments to squeeze me into his schedule, had planned a pleasant dinner. I blinked successively, my bouquet of a half-dozen roses limply pointed towards the ground. “I don’t know. Not really. I try not to think about marriage yet.”
“Of course,” Sho nodded reasonably, resuming his footsteps. His boots made heavy tracks in the snow, and flecks of white clung to his dark winter coat. “There’s the dissertation you’re worried about. Graduation’s in a few months. And you’re moving back to Nara.”
“Plus it’s a bit early to think about that,” I added, raising a hand to clear the snow on his shoulder. “I’m fine with this arrangement we have now.” I wrinkled my nose. “Besides you’re a bit older than my ideal husband. A five year gap is probably the most I’ll be able to handle.”
He silently watched me fall into step beside him. By the way his jaw hardened, I could tell something was on the tip of his tongue. “You said you wanted to have two children though. That means you’ve thought about it somehow.”
“The children, yes, but not the husband,” I winced. He was behaving oddly, and I was sure he wasn’t drunk yet. “Not that I have anything against you - you’re a really good friend-”
“I try,” he muttered sullenly. “Nice to know I’m being appreciated-”
“But I don’t want to think too far ahead. I’ll just let life happen, I guess.” I tucked the bouquet under my arm. “Until I’m ready, I’ll just let things be.” An odd ringing started in my ears. “As I’ve said, nothing on you, of course. You’ve been very nice to me, considering.”
I risked a peek from the corner of my eye. Sho was walking on with his hands deep in his pockets, a frown on his face. Inexplicably, I felt irritation bubbling in my chest. “What brought this about anyway? Is it because your manager’s getting married? You’re starting to think of settling down?”
“I just thought that if there had to be a person I wouldn’t mind getting stuck with - maybe, forever - it would be you.” Sho shrugged. “I wondered if you thought the same.”
The way he was looking at me quietly, a small pout on his lips and a dark glimmer in his eye, pushed my confusion to breaking point. I exhaled. “We wouldn’t work out, you know. You’re too controlling, and I’m too stubborn. If we were to end up together, you’d force me to stay at home and-”
“I wouldn’t.” He looked visibly offended, or maybe I could tell only because I knew him so well. “My own mother has a successful career - what makes you think I wouldn’t trust you-”
“Not me - your future wife-”
“Whichever.” He impatiently waved my interruption aside, and stopped in his tracks for the second time. Under the hazy glow of the park lights, I could see Sho’s breath condensing in the gap between us. “So you’ve really never considered it? Not even as a last resort - Last Two People Left in the World argument?”
I bit my lip. “I think of you as my best guy friend. To imagine you as someone more would be a complication.” I felt as though I had jumped into a lake in winter. “I don’t want to gamble and lose what we have-”
He held a hand up. “Is it because I’m in Arashi?”
“What?” I struggled to contain the beginning of a laugh. Sho’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “No, it’s not because you’re in Arashi. It’s because you’re you, and I’m me.”
His hand fell to his side. “Then it’s because of bad timing?”
“No, it’s - I can’t keep up with you,” I blurted out. “You’ve experienced so much already, and I’m only starting out. We’re hardly a good match, Sho.”
He looked so dejected that I felt strangely guilty. It must have been a huge blow to his pride to be told that to his face. Vaguely, I wondered if anybody had ever turned him down. Vaguely, I wondered why I was turning him down. “But if we were the last two people on Earth, and it was part of our responsibility to procreate for the sake of mankind, then maybe.”
“You’re so transparent.” Smiling sadly, Sho deflected my comeback with a smirk. He looked like he was suffering from constipation. “But don’t worry about me. I’m used to rejection.”
Laughing in a hollow tone, he suddenly started bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Shall I drive you home then?” Checking my birthday present, a new watch with an obscenely large face, he added, “It’s only past nine. Maybe you can still catch Shiyagare-”
“I thought we were going to that cake shop Mai recommended?” I peered up at him nervously. “Sho, are you sure you’re all right?”
He shook his head, grinning offhandedly. “I just remembered I have an early appointment tomorrow. I have to be in TBS by 8AM for a magazine interview.” He had stopped bouncing, but through the bulge in his coat, I could tell his fists were clenched in his pockets. “You don’t mind do you?”
Without waiting for me to reply, he walked ahead. The snow made a crunching sound as his feet gently trod over it.
__
September 2013
Sunday
He gaped as I held tightly onto his wrist. Struggling desperately to keep my face calm, I eased my fingers free and returned to the seat opposite his. “I’m sorry. But I hate it when you do that,” I said slowly, running my fingers over my hair. “I’m sorry, but I really do.”
“Do what?” Sakurai looked bewildered as he inspected his fingers. “What did I do?”
“You keep flicking your hair back when it falls into your face.” Hand shaking, I pointed at his hair, which, as we were speaking, promptly fell into his forehead again. “You have this habit of flipping your hair - have you realized?”
“Oh,” was all he managed for a while. His eyes were as round as marbles. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to stop doing that.”
I returned to the notes in front of me. Slowly, he went back to his notes as well. As he lowered his gaze, thick, dark hair fell into his eyes, half-covering the glasses he wore as a disguise. Frowning, I watched him shake his head slightly, under the guise of wanting to chase an errant thought away.
His hair merely swayed and further obscured his vision.
Before both of us sat painstakingly prepared personal information about ourselves, a handful of papers detailing our favorite food, our favorite music, our educational backgrounds and more, all in the hope of making somewhat comfortable the mission we were about to undertake. I frowned as I raised one of my papers higher in order to read it better. He apparently loved Japanese and hated Math. He sincerely believed Justin Bieber wasted his chance to change the world.
I read the strangest truths about Sho Sakurai on sheets of paper. Most of them were so shocking I was sure no media outfit knew about them. To think I had watched some of his shows on TV and felt I actually knew him. But the man concealed too much.
“You left the field for Most Embarrassing Moment out,” he noticed, frowning at something on the paper at his fingertips. “All the answers are very detailed except this one-”
“I farted in front of all my relatives during one New Year’s dinner,” I supplied calmly. “They all laughed at me. It was horrible.”
“Why didn’t you put that here then?”
“Why would I leave a paper trail of my absolute worst memory?” I checked his answer to the same question. He had written: ‘Peed in my bed during a school camping trip in fifth grade’. I fought down a smile as I marveled at his naïveté. Now I had proof enough for potential blackmail.
“I think we’re going to have a problem here.” He suddenly interrupted my imaginings of a little boy in wet pajamas as he looked up from his paper once more. “See, I absolutely hate roller coasters so dates in theme parks are a no-go. Not to mention it’s going to cause a publicity nightmare-”
He paused halfway through his argument, lips parted as he narrowed his eyes at something behind me. Instantly curious, I turned slowly.
A pair of equally interested eyes met mine, as a pretty girl with dyed light brown hair sauntered over to our table. Flashing us both a small smile, she rested her impossibly thin wrist on Sakurai’s seat, standing way too close to be a stranger. She was wearing a tiny green dress with a barely passable hemline, clutching a black bag large and fat enough to qualify as an emergency pillow.
“It’s been a while, Sho dear,” she simpered in an expectedly childish voice. Miss Turquoise Nails spared me a faux innocent look. “Is she your latest girlfriend?”
I smiled thinly. Across me Sakurai looked torn between horror and indignation, his lips struggling wordlessly while his fists clenched on his documents. I patiently tucked my hair behind an ear. “I’m actually his business partner. My name is Shimazaki. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”
Both stared at me in differing degrees of shock and surprise. The girl’s eyes went wide. Sakurai’s eyebrows slowly met.
I smiled wider.
“I’m not a threat, so if you don’t mind…” I batted my eyelashes at the stranger. It was amusing trying to talk to her. “Maybe if we manage to finish our meeting faster, you can meet him sooner, right?”
“No, no, she’s not my-” Sakurai managed to sputter a few words before the girl swooped downward and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then she looked my way very dramatically, her plumped-up lips pouting in a challenge. I politely averted my gaze and returned to my papers. I had told her nothing but the truth.
“I haven’t changed my number, Sho darling. If you need me…”
She fingered the tips of his errant hair before flouncing away, her cute little bottom up in the air. I tried to keep my gaze low, tried not to look too entertained. I had never met such a stereotype, and I had never pegged Sakurai to be the type to be interested in one either.
He gaped at me. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
I nodded slowly in understanding. “An ex-girlfriend?”
“Well,” he cocked his head. “Not really, just-”
He broke off, realizing he was telling me too much, too early, and cleared his throat. He waved a hand before his face. “Anyway, she’s not my girlfriend.”
I stared at him solemnly. He was flushing quite obviously. “Are you dating anyone now?”
“What?” Sakurai paused, eyes large. “I thought we were dating?”
“It’s for show, isn’t it?” I countered, tapping my pencil on his side of the table for clarification. “I’m not your girlfriend. We’re not dating. I’m your business associate, just like I told that girl-”
“I’m not seeing anyone right now, if that’s what you want to know.” Sakurai frowned. “I figured it wouldn’t be good for rumors to go around about me seeing two people-”
“People would find it normal, as long as you keep one discreet,” I pointed out. “Celebrities do it all the time-”
“I don’t cheat!” He banged his fist on the table, so strongly he upset his cup and splashed tea over the blue tablecloth. Straightening his fake glasses and struggling for calm, he repeated, albeit in a lower voice, “I don’t cheat - all right?”
I bit my lip.
“Then all these women-” I pointed at the spot where his fancy not-so-girlfriend had been standing just a few moments ago. “What are they?”
“She’s just one woman.” He returned to his notes irritably, shaking the poor paper in his hand. Its edges were moist with the sweat of his palms. “I don’t juggle. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
He was quiet for a second. Then he suddenly banged on the table one more time.
“Listen - if anyone asks you’re my girlfriend, okay!” He hissed at me, pointing. “For the sake of simplicity, we will introduce each other as such. You will tell significant people - whoever they may be - that we are dating, and I will render you the same favor.”
His jaw hardened. “And put that in the stupid Contract!”
Both hands on the edge of my documents, I blinked. Slowly, I nodded.
__
March 2015
Sunday
Arms crossed on the table before her, Mai watched me take another bite of the mango cheesecake. She seemed troubled. “Marina, tell me honestly. What have you done to my brother?”
I looked up, swallowing. “Nothing?”
Mai raised an eyebrow at me and sighed. “Seriously? Help me out a little here. You really can’t think of anything? I mean,” she pulled at straws in the air, “when was the last time the two of you talked?”
I licked my lips free of icing.
“I emailed him and asked for good Thai restaurants near Akasaka. I’m planning ahead for my graduation party. Although I’m thinking it might be better to have it at home - I don’t think I’ll be inviting a lot of people, anyway-”
“No, I mean, the last time you talked properly.” Mai was shaking her head serenely. “The last time you actually sat down and talked about… things - what happened then?”
Placing my fork on the edge of my plate, I stared at my milkshake and thought back. The last time Sho and I had spoken properly, it was still snowing. The cherry blossoms were starting to bloom now. “Nothing much, to be honest. We celebrated his birthday a week late. He got me roses, and then we went for a walk.”
Mai tilted her head. “You didn’t do anything on Valentine’s Day?”
I shook my head, turning away. How was Mai supposed to understand that we weren’t really dating? “He was too busy. He was busy then-”
But even as I told Mai this, Sho’s faint smile flew into my head. Don’t worry about me, he had said. I’m used to rejection.
I dabbed at the corners of my mouth with a napkin. “Why do you ask?”
“Because - he was supposed to bring you here, this place, right after you had dinner.” She moodily stabbed her strawberry shortcake, grumbling. “And he never did. I asked the staff.”
“Oh yes, sorry about that.” He had said something about wanting to go to Mai’s favorite cake shop, but didn’t seem to be in a rush that night. I thought back on that evening as I reached for water. “He told you, then?”
“I’m friendly with the head waiter here - I don’t need Sho to tell me anything,” Mai waved the question aside. “He had the whole place reserved, you know. There was no one else here but the staff and they had this huge mango cheesecake waiting for you-”
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. Why was I incapable of making the right social choices recently? “I’m not sure, really, but I think I might have irritated your brother then. I said something, and after that he just-”
I gestured with an empty hand.
“What did you say to him anyway?” Mai was unbelievably patient given how little I was obviously willing to tell her. “He’s not the type to change his plans, you see - and that was a pretty big plan he had here-”
“Why?” I could feel my blood running cold. I didn’t like the tone this conversation was taking. Mai had called me out to this place, waiting patiently for my next free weekend, under the pretense of wanting to go shopping afterwards. But maybe being manipulative ran in the Sakurai bloodline. “What was he planning to do?”
“Wait! Me first. What did you tell him?”
I hesitated. Mai didn’t know about our deal - no one else did. “We talked about what I planned to do after graduation. I said I’d be going back to Nara. I told him I didn’t want to settle down so soon.” I found myself gripping my fork for some semblance of support. “I told him I wanted to have two kids, but-”
I met her hollow gaze with a kind of muted horror. “He didn’t…?”
Mai shook her head. “No, he didn’t. Ring in the Cake? The staff told me he didn’t.” She shook her head again, finally taking a bite of her cake. “But he hasn’t made much of an effort to contact you since then, has he?”
I gripped my fork tighter. Aside from a few news bits about the weather and Arashi’s public appearances, there hadn’t been much. “No.”
My companion sighed. She kept her gaze on her cake, slicing and stabbing, and I watched her fingers move. Without taking another bite, she sighed again, and settled deeper into her seat. She reached for her tea.
“Even if he did have one, I’m sure he wouldn’t have put the ring in the cake.” Mai shook her head passionately. “It’s not his style. Too messy.”
Worried, she took a sip of her tea.
Part 2
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Part 1 End.
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A/N
I’m not releasing this thing until I finish it. So if it’s out… It’s complete. I’ve finally learned my lesson. ::P [01.40, 24 May 2013]