[02/03] 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
[01.41, 24 May 2013] Incredibly mushy and extravagant to the point of incredulity. I couldn’t help myself. Please forgive me~!
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.
Nara City, in Nara Prefecture, is the home of many UNESCO Heritage Sites, mainly temples.
Nara Women’s University is one of two national women’s universities in Japan.
Words 4,446
Timetables
For Arashi
Part 1
February 2014
Friday
I stared at the chandelier impassively as we walked out of the hotel restaurant. “I can’t believe you’re camping out in Tokyo Grand. This is the height of laziness, you realize?”
“It’s not like I have much of a choice,” Sho frowned as he walked beside me, neatly dressed in a blue button-down shirt and a light denim jacket matched with chinos, too properly clothed for a man who slept but a few floors above where we were standing. “The paparazzi know my home address now. The building management’s doing its best to keep them out, but-”
“Just admit that you don’t want to clean with Riki-chan on vacation,” I pointed out, bringing up the subject of his housekeeper, who was currently on vacation in Guam. “You could have hired someone temporarily until she comes back. It’s better than spending so much money on this place.” I gestured at the grand lobby of one of Tokyo’s most popular hotels. “You’re probably abusing your rights to breakfast in bed.”
“It’s fun - you should try it sometime when you get tired of life.” He grinned. “We all want to be taken care of, don’t we? Pampered, even just for a few days?”
“I still wouldn’t spend this much,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “But I suppose it’s your right to do whatever you want with your money. It’s yours, after all.”
He beamed.
As we crossed the front desk, the concierge bowed deeply at Sho, who promptly smiled back. He was in an awfully, almost obscenely jubilant mood that night, and it made me think he had made the right decision in choosing to spoil himself with room service. Unable to conceal my grin, I stuck a tongue out at him as we walked farther across the lobby. He stuck his tongue out back.
In perfect contrast to our cheerful moods, however, was the storm that was raging outside. Sho’s face fell as we watched the torrent through the sliding front doors. “I don’t think it’s safe to go out just yet. We should wait for the rain to stop.”
“Oh, but it’s been going on for hours,” I whined, checking my watch. It was almost ten in the evening. “I was hoping to catch a Nat Geo special on TV - I wouldn’t know where to buy a DVD if I miss it-”
He suddenly tugged at his jacket. “There’s a TV in my room.”
I glanced up at him. His expression was casual.
“Don’t girls like things like that - slumber parties?” He pulled his eyes away, running a hand under his nose. I could tell, by the way his eyes were skittering all over the lobby, that this situation was as strange for him as it was for me. “I even have the perks of 5-star hotel treatment - jacuzzi and all. You’re perfectly welcome for a sleepover anytime.”
And then he stilled and stared at me, waiting.
I ran a hand over one cheek, trying to push away the flush I was so sure was there. “Slumber parties are complicated. I don’t - I’m not fond of the thought of them. They’re-” I paused. “You are asking me if I want to spend the night with you, aren’t you?” I fumbled, unable to find a roundabout way of confronting him. “Stay… with you - and-”
“Marina, are you-?” I froze as he ogled me quietly, albeit with large, watchful eyes. He seemed to realize- “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, but-”
I replied, sighing. “It’s all right. Forget about it-”
“No, no, no - it’s my fault. I assumed-” he raised a hand as he stepped back, clamping his eyes shut as though he was in pain. He seemed to be muttering curses to himself, and he placed a hand over his hair, his eyes, as he fought to regain his composure. “I’m so sorry for being terribly rude-”
I shook my head. Was it so unnatural to not know much about these things, then?
I dug a finger into my clutch. “I should be going now-”
He nodded, smiling softly. “Don’t think about it.”
Sho took a step back.
When I recovered from my embarrassment, I was in the back of a taxicab, and Sho was waving at me from the front door of the hotel. The rain was still pouring, and there were drops of moisture on my clothes, but I couldn’t quite remember how I’d gotten so wet. I raised a hand as the cab drove away. A hand in his pocket, Sho waved back.
He looked remarkably pleased with himself.
__
June 2015
Tuesday
“You’re dating Sho Sakurai.”
I raised an eyebrow at the girls across the kitchen counter, who seemed very interested in who had turned up for my post-graduation party. All four of my nosiest classmates clutched their glasses of sake precariously, as they held their chins in their palms and waited for my reply. “You’re dating Sho Sakurai. Otherwise, why would he be here?”
“His mother and my mother are good friends, actually.” I passed the plate of nachos across and pulled my apron off. “They went to the same school in Nara-”
“But you’re dating, right?” The four of them lapsed into giggles. “He brought you a bouquet of lilies - surely that means something.”
I felt like telling them Sho Sakurai was in the habit of bearing gifts for people whose houses he visited - or actually, people in general. He was fond of distributing flowers, too, for some strange reason, and I doubt I was the first one he’d ever deigned to personally deliver such packages to.
Besides, I wasn’t sure what we were anymore. It was the first time we had seen each other in a long time. “It’s complicated,” I muttered, knowing Facebook had gotten it right when it invented that explanation. “Listen. Can everybody just give the guy a break about this? Just talk to him as you would to an ordinary person.”
“An ordinary person you happen to be dating.” They giggled again, before flitting off into the living room with the plate of nachos in hand. “And here we were thinking you were as feminine as a cactus.”
I buried my face in my hands and let the chatter of the guests in the other parts of the house wash over me. Twenty of my closest friends in Tokyo were gathered in my apartment, celebrating what would be my last week in the city before I returned to my hometown. I rubbed my eyebrows, troubled. I was happy, of course, that he was there, but I hadn’t really thought of what I’d say to him.
The sound of approaching footsteps made me raise my head.
Sho walked into the kitchen with a pleasant expression on his face, a bottle of beer in hand as he ran the other over the short counter that stood between us. I straightened up as he sat on the wooden stool opposite. He smiled faintly, placed the bottle down, and propped his arms up on the surface before him.
He was wearing red, a neat polo shirt I had seen on him only once before.
“It’s my first time in your house.” Sho stared at the apron I had discarded by the sink. “It’s exactly as I imagined it - clean and obsessively systematic.”
I shrugged offhandedly. “I’ve started packing for my trip back home. That must be why everything looks so tidy - they’ve been sorted to go into the right boxes-”
“Yeah,” he agreed distractedly, tapping a finger against the counter. He was still avoiding my eyes, although I couldn’t be sure as I wasn’t looking quite properly either. “You’ve started packing, huh?”
Sho suddenly threw his arms back and rested his palms at the back of his head. Blinking in silence as he considered me, he spared me a half-smirk as he noted, “This is it, then. The end of the Contract.”
“Yes.” I hadn’t realized I was wringing the apron in my hand. I hadn’t realized I had even reached for it. “Thank you very much for taking care of me. I will never forget your kindness.”
I bowed, so low I could feel the tips of my hair touching the sink.
Sho laughed, the sound reverberating slightly in my cramped kitchen space. “You know, most people would call this a breakup. It’s usually easier to separate that way.”
As I glanced up, I saw he was staring at me kindly. Differently. As though I were a stranger, just another colleague from the studios he had no choice but to be nice to. “But this will have to do, I guess. Do I have to sign anything?”
Tucking my hair behind an ear, I shook my head softly. “Don’t worry about it.”
My hair fell into my forehead stubbornly. I pushed it back again.
“Thanks.” He nodded. Abruptly, he passed me his beer bottle, and I took it, surprised to find it empty. I could see my fingers through one side, their tips bathed in a glassy hue. “I’ve got to get going now. I’m meeting some people for a work-related party. I’ll probably still catch them in the first venue if I leave early-”
Groaning slightly, Sho stood up. Bending low to put the empty bottle by the trash can, I rested my head on my raised knees and exhaled as softly as I could. A lump the size of a small egg seemed to be working its way into my throat.
“You know,” Sho then said, his voice low and amused, “even though it was just pretend, it was the most genuine relationship I’ve had in a very long time. True - in two years I haven’t gotten even a single kiss, but at least I can say I’ve convinced one more person to buy only Kirin beer.”
He laughed.
Resurfacing, I grinned back at him. “I’ll admit I only bought Kirin because Arashi endorses it-”
“You see!” He seemed very pleased with himself, and I wondered vaguely if I’d ever see him so smug again. “It’s the power of influence. And charm. And good lighting-”
“A good advertising scheme does wonders, too.”
“Yes, of course.”
We stared at each other, his face probably more blank than mine. Staring at a spot somewhere above my left shoulder, Sho suddenly told me, in a voice so plaintive I was lost for a heartbeat, “I just realized - you’re not the type to marry for convenience, are you? You’d always be the type to marry for love - romance-”
“Hang on,” I countered, more quickly than I intended. “Haven’t we talked about this before? I’m not even sure true love exists for me - why would I wait for it?”
“But you are waiting for it, whether you realize it or not-”
“No,” I shook my head. “Why would you say that? It isn’t your place to pretend to understand me-”
I broke off, the rest of my words dying before I could say them. Sho was shaking his head. “It’s not your fault you’re too young.”
Then he stopped.
Smiling brightly, he shoved one hand into his pocket, and raised the other one in a lazy farewell. Leaving me one last glance, he turned and dragged his feet out of the kitchen. I watched him leave with my hands gripping the edge of the sink.
A week later I left for my hometown.
__
April 2014
Thursday
“Can I give you a bit of advice?” an intoxicated Matsumoto Jun was shouting into my ear. “I have a feeling you might need it - if you don’t mind me saying so-”
“What is it?” I yelled back. We were standing in line to the toilet, and he looked as drunk as I felt. I could feel the wind whipping my ears. It was strange that the air was moving so fluidly in this narrow hallway. “If it’s about Sho-”
“It’s about Sho!” Matsumoto nodded. Swaying dangerously so that he finally had to put a hand against the wall to steady himself, he burst into maniacal laughter. “Smart girl! No wonder Sho likes you so much!”
I grinned. The two of us had nothing else in common - it was not difficult to guess. “You’re drunk!”
But Matsumoto merely waved a hand in front of his face, arguing otherwise. “Don’t play hard to get!”
“What?”
“Don’t play hard to get!” Matsumoto repeated, inching closer, his voice too loud in my ear. Without warning, he reached over and poked a ringed finger into my bare shoulder. “Sho - he isn’t the type to run after girls who pretend not to want him. You run away - he turns around and walks in the other direction-”
He grinned, eyes glittering, and raised his finger higher to rest on my forehead. “You may be smart, but I know him better than you do. And trust me - you won’t want to go begging him for anything. He isn’t the most forgiving person, Sho Sakurai-”
Matsumoto then froze and put a hand against his crotch. He straightened up, and, with an annoyed look on his face, started pounding on the toilet door. “Masaki! Masaki, I need to use the toilet! Take your business somewhere else!”
Feeling momentarily sober and in no way in need of a toilet, I traipsed back into the living room, head full with confusion at what Matsumoto had said. What had prompted him to suddenly give me advice about Sho Sakurai? On the queue to the bathroom, of all places! I groaned and hid my eyes behind my hand. The glare from all the lights in the living room was making my head spin. I hit something hard and nearly buckled at the knees.
Someone was suddenly pulling my fingers away from my eyes. “Marina, what’s wrong?”
I blinked, chin raised, and saw Sho’s worried face looking down into mine. I seemed to be gripping his shirt quite tightly, his pale fingers holding mine just as strongly in return.
His hands were perfect, I’d always thought.
“I’m drunk,” I told him, before half-collapsing into his chest, my arms thrown around his neck. Eyes fluttering shut, I heard him curse, felt his arms go around my waist as he struggled to keep me standing. There was the sudden hubbub of people speaking, throwing suggestions about how to deal with the dead weight that was me. I sighed and leaned into Sho’s chest deeper. He smelled so nice, really.
The next thing I knew, the ground was soft under my back, and Sho’s face was swimming in and out of my vision, holding what seemed to be a variety of pillows. I sighed contentedly, and turned my cheek to rest on the softest cotton. I felt a warm blanket being pulled over me, just over my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I heard Sho whisper, his voice full of remorse. I could feel him sitting beside me, very close - too close. His hand was resting against my hip, warm even through the thick blanket. “I should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle so much liquor -”
“Shut up,” I muttered, wriggling under my blanket as I struggled to open my eyes. I turned properly and saw Sho watching over me, looking every bit like a visitor beside someone’s deathbed. There was a floor lamp in one corner of the room, its golden glow spilling over his left profile. “Get back there - and entertain your guests…”
Sho smiled. “They can entertain themselves. After all, they’re all entertainers.”
He laughed quietly at his little joke.
Sighing as I stretched under the covers, my hair came undone. Sho was still holding on to me, hands never leaving my side. I stilled and stared at the ceiling. His thumb was making circles over the blanket, maddeningly tender.
I sat up slowly, my hair falling in messy waves all over. Sho frowned, moving hesitantly to accommodate the shift. As I tried to gather my wits about me, Matsumoto Jun’s words from the bathroom hallway floated into my foggy brain. Don’t run. Don’t run away, he had said, basically. I would have to meet Sho halfway.
Halfway.
Reaching for his shoulder, I leaned close as my eyes fluttered shut.
My forehead collided with the bedding. Somewhere above me, Sho was shuffling awkwardly.
“Marina, you’re drunk,” was all he said, gingerly pulling me by the tips of my shoulders, and returning me to my place under the safety of the blanket. He was frowning deeply as he pulled the covers all the way up to my chin, and planted pillows on each side of my head. “Now go to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
True enough, he sat on the very edge of the king-size bed, crossing his arms over a fat pillow and sulking. I bit my lip so hard it hurt and struggled not to cry. Then I rolled over and hid my face underneath my crazy hair.
The last thought in my head that night had been that I would never attempt to do that again.
__
November 2015
Sunday
At dusk, Riko’s ride dropped me off in front of my parents’ house. Disengaging my seatbelt, I was surprised to find my best friend, eight months pregnant with her first baby, clinging desperately to my wrist.
I smiled at her. Married for a year and she was still such a child. “We just spent the whole day together. Don’t tell me you’re still not willing to let me go?”
“Marina.” Riko’s mouth trembled. “Try to understand, okay?”
She pushed me out of her car with a vehemence that shocked me. I stood in front of our low gate, wondering if all pregnant women were as crazy as the one who had just manhandled me. But maybe it was just Riko.
Still confused, I turned and walked into the yard.
In the autumn, Nara was one of the best places to be in Japan. This I had always believed, but maybe I grew up biased because the foliage in my neighborhood was incomparably lovely during this season. My parents’ garden was no exception. The leaves of our trees had all wilted, and as I slowly walked across the yard they danced off the ground with the gentle wind around me. A rake lay abandoned beside one of the older maple trees. I wondered where everybody was.
I found the answer lurking behind the kitchen door. The entire household staff was gathered there - the maids giggling as they hovered beside the hallway to the dining room, and the gardener speaking softly to the driver by the refrigerator. I knew what was going on even before they noticed me watching and straightened up. The maids’ behavior had been reminiscent of collective fan worship outside concert grounds.
“Do we have a visitor?” I asked the head maid, Okichi, who had just entered the kitchen with an empty serving tray. As I placed my package of traditional sweets on the kitchen counter, I felt my blood run cold. “Is it one of father’s associates?”
Okichi smiled - an occurrence so rare it unnerved me even more. “Oh no, my lady. Our visitor is here to see you.”
“I see.” I nodded and balled my fists at my sides. Neurotically running a hand over the pendant of my necklace, I pushed one foot in front of the other. I was halfway out the kitchen when I turned to the gardener and felt compelled to ask, “Uncle, do I look all right?”
The old man smiled, displaying his missing teeth. “Beautiful as always, my lady.”
I willed myself to believe he was telling the truth, and that what he said harbored no bias simply because he liked me best among us siblings.
By the time I found myself in the dining room, one of the giggling maids was already sober and serving the sweets I had brought home. Her back to the door, my mother laughed softly, and I realized I had never heard her sound so carefree. On the low table that had been in my family for generations, various local sweets and a steaming pot of tea were served out in a special array. And on the far end of the table, grinning and looking remarkably young in a crisp white shirt was Sho Sakurai. I hadn’t seen him in half a year.
“Marina, what are you doing?” My mother called out, waking me. She raised a hand and, the trace of a laugh still remaining on her face, beckoned me forward. “Come and say hello.”
I bowed and slowly settled on Sho’s other side. He bowed back, his smile fading slightly before he caught himself. This was Sho the Super Idol. He would smile even through his displeasure.
“Let me check on the crab.” My mother rose. Smiling to Sho, she said, “You promised you would be staying for dinner, Sho. The whole family is so excited to meet you.”
“He doesn’t eat anything with cilantro.” I couldn’t help myself. Beside me I felt Sho stir, resting his bare elbows on the table. I ignored this, including the fact that he and my mother had obviously reached first-name basis. “And, Mother, please don’t make the soba too greasy.”
A spark went off in my mother’s eyes. Smiling brightly even though she seemed on the verge of tears, she excused herself from the dining room. I watched her wipe a tear with the edge of her kimono as she shuffled into the kitchen. It seemed Sho had told her of our supposed breakup.
I reached for the tea pot and refilled his cup.
“You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“Okichi told me who to expect.” I made the mistake of looking straight into his eyes. “Okichi is the head maid.”
Sho nodded and quietly watched the steam rise from his cup. His eyes lingered on my neck. “That’s a pretty necklace. Who gave it to you?”
I shot him a withering look. He beamed.
Trying to distract us both, I tucked my hair behind an ear and reached for a plate. Sho handed me a lacquered box of dainty assorted cakes and I realized he had not come empty handed. Trying not to smile openly, I transferred a fragile-looking mango cheesecake into my plate as Sho attempted to pour me some tea. He spilled some on the table, and we hastily struggled to dry it. I couldn’t help smirking.
“How are you?”
“What are you doing here?”
We stared at each other, waiting for the other to answer first. Sho blinked and cleared his throat. “Riko told me I could be sued for breach of contract-”
“Riko?” I intoned dully. “My best friend Riko?”
“Yeah. She called me and told me you told her something important. Then she reminded me we’d agreed that I had to meet your mother at least once for dinner. It was on impulse though. I’m afraid I gave your mother a bit of a shock when I turned up at your front door.”
I frowned. “You imposed upon my mother’s hospitality and insisted on staying until dinner?”
“What do I have to do to convince you I’m actually a nice guy?” He shook his head, looking disgruntled. “I told her I would love to take her out to dinner - I even told her she could name the restaurant, but she insisted on feeding me here.”
I sighed. The explanation made too much sense. “How did you get here anyway?”
“Train,” he supplied simply, tapping his finger on the table. “I return to Tokyo on the midnight express. We start filming the final episode of Meet Joe Black tomorrow.”
“Oh yes, I’m watching that show,” I blurted out. I had been watching Sho’s TBS autumn drama religiously, and even though it was unoriginal and based too heavily on the original American film, I loved it. “You’ve got a great cast working with you. You and Tina Tamashiro look really good together.”
“Yeah.” Sho stared at me beadily. “You haven’t answered my question.”
I felt my fingers go numb. He was still staring eerily at me. “I’m fine. I’m teaching. At my old college department.” I occupied myself by poking the topping on my uneaten cheesecake. “My students don’t seem to respect me very much given I’m not much older than them. I don’t remember being that disrespectful when I was an undergrad there though-”
“You look pale.” He frowned. “And you’ve lost so much weight.”
I shrugged. “It’s my first semester as a college instructor. I suppose premature aging is an occupational hazard.”
By contrast he looked even younger than the last time I’d seen him. He was sporting a new, shorter haircut, and I was surprised to find it wasn’t the same as the one he had had in all of his shows the previous week - even the Monday ZERO broadcast. The flush in his cheeks stood out in his pale face, and even his fingernails were freshly manicured. He looked a decade younger.
As Riko had earlier that morning lectured me on the dermatological benefits of getting laid, I desperately wanted to ask if he had a new girlfriend. Or not-so girlfriend. But I settled for gripping the edges of the table and, struggling to smile, told him, “If you were a girl you could pass as one of my students. It irritates me.”
The smirk that I had not seen in ages flitted into his face instantly. As he opened his mouth to retort, however, footsteps came running in the hallway behind us, and the door of the dining room was unceremoniously flung open.
My gorgeous sister, clutching her three year old son in one arm as her six year old daughter held on to her coat, stood at the threshold like a frozen painting. Our stressed-out mother, still wearing an apron, hovered beside her with an anxious expression. “I don’t believe it.”
With the family’s Madonna insisting on being beside Sho until the moment he left, there had been no other opportunities for the two of us to talk properly. I sat beside him all throughout dinner, but aside from his asking me to pass him the salt we exchanged no other words. He beat my older brother at high-end Baba Nuki, and exchanged idol gossip with my younger one. At half past eight, I watched him get into a taxicab with an apologetic expression on his face. I waved as it drove away, smiling faintly at my family and the household staff who were still in awe at the unexpected encounter.
I was the first to go back into the house.
Sho had come only to fulfill his part of the contract. And now we were officially done.
Part 3
__
Part 2 End.
__
A/N
This is a shameless plug of Meet Joe Black, which I love to bits. Since I watched that movie, I’ve been fantasizing over dear Sho playing Joe Black, down to the use of unnaturally polite language and the obsession for peanut butter.
To clear things up, MatsuJun’s advice was inspired by a Natal Chart reading I had done for Sho - because stalker-ism has no bounds. His astrology reading says he’s not the type to be patient with people who don’t want him. Besides, if you’re a Super Idol who has the whole world falling at your feet, why would you bother with one person who doesn’t think you’re epic?
Tamashiro Tina is the poor, gorgeous model that Sho and Ariyoshi-san had as a guest on Ima Kono Kao - the same fifteen-year old netizens attacked for confessing to Sakurai on television. I kid you not. They look good together. [19.12, 26 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
[01.41, 24 May 2013] Incredibly mushy and extravagant to the point of incredulity. I couldn’t help myself. Please forgive me~!
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.
Nara City, in Nara Prefecture, is the home of many UNESCO Heritage Sites, mainly temples.
Nara Women’s University is one of two national women’s universities in Japan.
Words 4,446
Timetables
For Arashi
Part 1
February 2014
Friday
I stared at the chandelier impassively as we walked out of the hotel restaurant. “I can’t believe you’re camping out in Tokyo Grand. This is the height of laziness, you realize?”
“It’s not like I have much of a choice,” Sho frowned as he walked beside me, neatly dressed in a blue button-down shirt and a light denim jacket matched with chinos, too properly clothed for a man who slept but a few floors above where we were standing. “The paparazzi know my home address now. The building management’s doing its best to keep them out, but-”
“Just admit that you don’t want to clean with Riki-chan on vacation,” I pointed out, bringing up the subject of his housekeeper, who was currently on vacation in Guam. “You could have hired someone temporarily until she comes back. It’s better than spending so much money on this place.” I gestured at the grand lobby of one of Tokyo’s most popular hotels. “You’re probably abusing your rights to breakfast in bed.”
“It’s fun - you should try it sometime when you get tired of life.” He grinned. “We all want to be taken care of, don’t we? Pampered, even just for a few days?”
“I still wouldn’t spend this much,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “But I suppose it’s your right to do whatever you want with your money. It’s yours, after all.”
He beamed.
As we crossed the front desk, the concierge bowed deeply at Sho, who promptly smiled back. He was in an awfully, almost obscenely jubilant mood that night, and it made me think he had made the right decision in choosing to spoil himself with room service. Unable to conceal my grin, I stuck a tongue out at him as we walked farther across the lobby. He stuck his tongue out back.
In perfect contrast to our cheerful moods, however, was the storm that was raging outside. Sho’s face fell as we watched the torrent through the sliding front doors. “I don’t think it’s safe to go out just yet. We should wait for the rain to stop.”
“Oh, but it’s been going on for hours,” I whined, checking my watch. It was almost ten in the evening. “I was hoping to catch a Nat Geo special on TV - I wouldn’t know where to buy a DVD if I miss it-”
He suddenly tugged at his jacket. “There’s a TV in my room.”
I glanced up at him. His expression was casual.
“Don’t girls like things like that - slumber parties?” He pulled his eyes away, running a hand under his nose. I could tell, by the way his eyes were skittering all over the lobby, that this situation was as strange for him as it was for me. “I even have the perks of 5-star hotel treatment - jacuzzi and all. You’re perfectly welcome for a sleepover anytime.”
And then he stilled and stared at me, waiting.
I ran a hand over one cheek, trying to push away the flush I was so sure was there. “Slumber parties are complicated. I don’t - I’m not fond of the thought of them. They’re-” I paused. “You are asking me if I want to spend the night with you, aren’t you?” I fumbled, unable to find a roundabout way of confronting him. “Stay… with you - and-”
“Marina, are you-?” I froze as he ogled me quietly, albeit with large, watchful eyes. He seemed to realize- “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, but-”
I replied, sighing. “It’s all right. Forget about it-”
“No, no, no - it’s my fault. I assumed-” he raised a hand as he stepped back, clamping his eyes shut as though he was in pain. He seemed to be muttering curses to himself, and he placed a hand over his hair, his eyes, as he fought to regain his composure. “I’m so sorry for being terribly rude-”
I shook my head. Was it so unnatural to not know much about these things, then?
I dug a finger into my clutch. “I should be going now-”
He nodded, smiling softly. “Don’t think about it.”
Sho took a step back.
When I recovered from my embarrassment, I was in the back of a taxicab, and Sho was waving at me from the front door of the hotel. The rain was still pouring, and there were drops of moisture on my clothes, but I couldn’t quite remember how I’d gotten so wet. I raised a hand as the cab drove away. A hand in his pocket, Sho waved back.
He looked remarkably pleased with himself.
__
June 2015
Tuesday
“You’re dating Sho Sakurai.”
I raised an eyebrow at the girls across the kitchen counter, who seemed very interested in who had turned up for my post-graduation party. All four of my nosiest classmates clutched their glasses of sake precariously, as they held their chins in their palms and waited for my reply. “You’re dating Sho Sakurai. Otherwise, why would he be here?”
“His mother and my mother are good friends, actually.” I passed the plate of nachos across and pulled my apron off. “They went to the same school in Nara-”
“But you’re dating, right?” The four of them lapsed into giggles. “He brought you a bouquet of lilies - surely that means something.”
I felt like telling them Sho Sakurai was in the habit of bearing gifts for people whose houses he visited - or actually, people in general. He was fond of distributing flowers, too, for some strange reason, and I doubt I was the first one he’d ever deigned to personally deliver such packages to.
Besides, I wasn’t sure what we were anymore. It was the first time we had seen each other in a long time. “It’s complicated,” I muttered, knowing Facebook had gotten it right when it invented that explanation. “Listen. Can everybody just give the guy a break about this? Just talk to him as you would to an ordinary person.”
“An ordinary person you happen to be dating.” They giggled again, before flitting off into the living room with the plate of nachos in hand. “And here we were thinking you were as feminine as a cactus.”
I buried my face in my hands and let the chatter of the guests in the other parts of the house wash over me. Twenty of my closest friends in Tokyo were gathered in my apartment, celebrating what would be my last week in the city before I returned to my hometown. I rubbed my eyebrows, troubled. I was happy, of course, that he was there, but I hadn’t really thought of what I’d say to him.
The sound of approaching footsteps made me raise my head.
Sho walked into the kitchen with a pleasant expression on his face, a bottle of beer in hand as he ran the other over the short counter that stood between us. I straightened up as he sat on the wooden stool opposite. He smiled faintly, placed the bottle down, and propped his arms up on the surface before him.
He was wearing red, a neat polo shirt I had seen on him only once before.
“It’s my first time in your house.” Sho stared at the apron I had discarded by the sink. “It’s exactly as I imagined it - clean and obsessively systematic.”
I shrugged offhandedly. “I’ve started packing for my trip back home. That must be why everything looks so tidy - they’ve been sorted to go into the right boxes-”
“Yeah,” he agreed distractedly, tapping a finger against the counter. He was still avoiding my eyes, although I couldn’t be sure as I wasn’t looking quite properly either. “You’ve started packing, huh?”
Sho suddenly threw his arms back and rested his palms at the back of his head. Blinking in silence as he considered me, he spared me a half-smirk as he noted, “This is it, then. The end of the Contract.”
“Yes.” I hadn’t realized I was wringing the apron in my hand. I hadn’t realized I had even reached for it. “Thank you very much for taking care of me. I will never forget your kindness.”
I bowed, so low I could feel the tips of my hair touching the sink.
Sho laughed, the sound reverberating slightly in my cramped kitchen space. “You know, most people would call this a breakup. It’s usually easier to separate that way.”
As I glanced up, I saw he was staring at me kindly. Differently. As though I were a stranger, just another colleague from the studios he had no choice but to be nice to. “But this will have to do, I guess. Do I have to sign anything?”
Tucking my hair behind an ear, I shook my head softly. “Don’t worry about it.”
My hair fell into my forehead stubbornly. I pushed it back again.
“Thanks.” He nodded. Abruptly, he passed me his beer bottle, and I took it, surprised to find it empty. I could see my fingers through one side, their tips bathed in a glassy hue. “I’ve got to get going now. I’m meeting some people for a work-related party. I’ll probably still catch them in the first venue if I leave early-”
Groaning slightly, Sho stood up. Bending low to put the empty bottle by the trash can, I rested my head on my raised knees and exhaled as softly as I could. A lump the size of a small egg seemed to be working its way into my throat.
“You know,” Sho then said, his voice low and amused, “even though it was just pretend, it was the most genuine relationship I’ve had in a very long time. True - in two years I haven’t gotten even a single kiss, but at least I can say I’ve convinced one more person to buy only Kirin beer.”
He laughed.
Resurfacing, I grinned back at him. “I’ll admit I only bought Kirin because Arashi endorses it-”
“You see!” He seemed very pleased with himself, and I wondered vaguely if I’d ever see him so smug again. “It’s the power of influence. And charm. And good lighting-”
“A good advertising scheme does wonders, too.”
“Yes, of course.”
We stared at each other, his face probably more blank than mine. Staring at a spot somewhere above my left shoulder, Sho suddenly told me, in a voice so plaintive I was lost for a heartbeat, “I just realized - you’re not the type to marry for convenience, are you? You’d always be the type to marry for love - romance-”
“Hang on,” I countered, more quickly than I intended. “Haven’t we talked about this before? I’m not even sure true love exists for me - why would I wait for it?”
“But you are waiting for it, whether you realize it or not-”
“No,” I shook my head. “Why would you say that? It isn’t your place to pretend to understand me-”
I broke off, the rest of my words dying before I could say them. Sho was shaking his head. “It’s not your fault you’re too young.”
Then he stopped.
Smiling brightly, he shoved one hand into his pocket, and raised the other one in a lazy farewell. Leaving me one last glance, he turned and dragged his feet out of the kitchen. I watched him leave with my hands gripping the edge of the sink.
A week later I left for my hometown.
__
April 2014
Thursday
“Can I give you a bit of advice?” an intoxicated Matsumoto Jun was shouting into my ear. “I have a feeling you might need it - if you don’t mind me saying so-”
“What is it?” I yelled back. We were standing in line to the toilet, and he looked as drunk as I felt. I could feel the wind whipping my ears. It was strange that the air was moving so fluidly in this narrow hallway. “If it’s about Sho-”
“It’s about Sho!” Matsumoto nodded. Swaying dangerously so that he finally had to put a hand against the wall to steady himself, he burst into maniacal laughter. “Smart girl! No wonder Sho likes you so much!”
I grinned. The two of us had nothing else in common - it was not difficult to guess. “You’re drunk!”
But Matsumoto merely waved a hand in front of his face, arguing otherwise. “Don’t play hard to get!”
“What?”
“Don’t play hard to get!” Matsumoto repeated, inching closer, his voice too loud in my ear. Without warning, he reached over and poked a ringed finger into my bare shoulder. “Sho - he isn’t the type to run after girls who pretend not to want him. You run away - he turns around and walks in the other direction-”
He grinned, eyes glittering, and raised his finger higher to rest on my forehead. “You may be smart, but I know him better than you do. And trust me - you won’t want to go begging him for anything. He isn’t the most forgiving person, Sho Sakurai-”
Matsumoto then froze and put a hand against his crotch. He straightened up, and, with an annoyed look on his face, started pounding on the toilet door. “Masaki! Masaki, I need to use the toilet! Take your business somewhere else!”
Feeling momentarily sober and in no way in need of a toilet, I traipsed back into the living room, head full with confusion at what Matsumoto had said. What had prompted him to suddenly give me advice about Sho Sakurai? On the queue to the bathroom, of all places! I groaned and hid my eyes behind my hand. The glare from all the lights in the living room was making my head spin. I hit something hard and nearly buckled at the knees.
Someone was suddenly pulling my fingers away from my eyes. “Marina, what’s wrong?”
I blinked, chin raised, and saw Sho’s worried face looking down into mine. I seemed to be gripping his shirt quite tightly, his pale fingers holding mine just as strongly in return.
His hands were perfect, I’d always thought.
“I’m drunk,” I told him, before half-collapsing into his chest, my arms thrown around his neck. Eyes fluttering shut, I heard him curse, felt his arms go around my waist as he struggled to keep me standing. There was the sudden hubbub of people speaking, throwing suggestions about how to deal with the dead weight that was me. I sighed and leaned into Sho’s chest deeper. He smelled so nice, really.
The next thing I knew, the ground was soft under my back, and Sho’s face was swimming in and out of my vision, holding what seemed to be a variety of pillows. I sighed contentedly, and turned my cheek to rest on the softest cotton. I felt a warm blanket being pulled over me, just over my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I heard Sho whisper, his voice full of remorse. I could feel him sitting beside me, very close - too close. His hand was resting against my hip, warm even through the thick blanket. “I should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle so much liquor -”
“Shut up,” I muttered, wriggling under my blanket as I struggled to open my eyes. I turned properly and saw Sho watching over me, looking every bit like a visitor beside someone’s deathbed. There was a floor lamp in one corner of the room, its golden glow spilling over his left profile. “Get back there - and entertain your guests…”
Sho smiled. “They can entertain themselves. After all, they’re all entertainers.”
He laughed quietly at his little joke.
Sighing as I stretched under the covers, my hair came undone. Sho was still holding on to me, hands never leaving my side. I stilled and stared at the ceiling. His thumb was making circles over the blanket, maddeningly tender.
I sat up slowly, my hair falling in messy waves all over. Sho frowned, moving hesitantly to accommodate the shift. As I tried to gather my wits about me, Matsumoto Jun’s words from the bathroom hallway floated into my foggy brain. Don’t run. Don’t run away, he had said, basically. I would have to meet Sho halfway.
Halfway.
Reaching for his shoulder, I leaned close as my eyes fluttered shut.
My forehead collided with the bedding. Somewhere above me, Sho was shuffling awkwardly.
“Marina, you’re drunk,” was all he said, gingerly pulling me by the tips of my shoulders, and returning me to my place under the safety of the blanket. He was frowning deeply as he pulled the covers all the way up to my chin, and planted pillows on each side of my head. “Now go to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
True enough, he sat on the very edge of the king-size bed, crossing his arms over a fat pillow and sulking. I bit my lip so hard it hurt and struggled not to cry. Then I rolled over and hid my face underneath my crazy hair.
The last thought in my head that night had been that I would never attempt to do that again.
__
November 2015
Sunday
At dusk, Riko’s ride dropped me off in front of my parents’ house. Disengaging my seatbelt, I was surprised to find my best friend, eight months pregnant with her first baby, clinging desperately to my wrist.
I smiled at her. Married for a year and she was still such a child. “We just spent the whole day together. Don’t tell me you’re still not willing to let me go?”
“Marina.” Riko’s mouth trembled. “Try to understand, okay?”
She pushed me out of her car with a vehemence that shocked me. I stood in front of our low gate, wondering if all pregnant women were as crazy as the one who had just manhandled me. But maybe it was just Riko.
Still confused, I turned and walked into the yard.
In the autumn, Nara was one of the best places to be in Japan. This I had always believed, but maybe I grew up biased because the foliage in my neighborhood was incomparably lovely during this season. My parents’ garden was no exception. The leaves of our trees had all wilted, and as I slowly walked across the yard they danced off the ground with the gentle wind around me. A rake lay abandoned beside one of the older maple trees. I wondered where everybody was.
I found the answer lurking behind the kitchen door. The entire household staff was gathered there - the maids giggling as they hovered beside the hallway to the dining room, and the gardener speaking softly to the driver by the refrigerator. I knew what was going on even before they noticed me watching and straightened up. The maids’ behavior had been reminiscent of collective fan worship outside concert grounds.
“Do we have a visitor?” I asked the head maid, Okichi, who had just entered the kitchen with an empty serving tray. As I placed my package of traditional sweets on the kitchen counter, I felt my blood run cold. “Is it one of father’s associates?”
Okichi smiled - an occurrence so rare it unnerved me even more. “Oh no, my lady. Our visitor is here to see you.”
“I see.” I nodded and balled my fists at my sides. Neurotically running a hand over the pendant of my necklace, I pushed one foot in front of the other. I was halfway out the kitchen when I turned to the gardener and felt compelled to ask, “Uncle, do I look all right?”
The old man smiled, displaying his missing teeth. “Beautiful as always, my lady.”
I willed myself to believe he was telling the truth, and that what he said harbored no bias simply because he liked me best among us siblings.
By the time I found myself in the dining room, one of the giggling maids was already sober and serving the sweets I had brought home. Her back to the door, my mother laughed softly, and I realized I had never heard her sound so carefree. On the low table that had been in my family for generations, various local sweets and a steaming pot of tea were served out in a special array. And on the far end of the table, grinning and looking remarkably young in a crisp white shirt was Sho Sakurai. I hadn’t seen him in half a year.
“Marina, what are you doing?” My mother called out, waking me. She raised a hand and, the trace of a laugh still remaining on her face, beckoned me forward. “Come and say hello.”
I bowed and slowly settled on Sho’s other side. He bowed back, his smile fading slightly before he caught himself. This was Sho the Super Idol. He would smile even through his displeasure.
“Let me check on the crab.” My mother rose. Smiling to Sho, she said, “You promised you would be staying for dinner, Sho. The whole family is so excited to meet you.”
“He doesn’t eat anything with cilantro.” I couldn’t help myself. Beside me I felt Sho stir, resting his bare elbows on the table. I ignored this, including the fact that he and my mother had obviously reached first-name basis. “And, Mother, please don’t make the soba too greasy.”
A spark went off in my mother’s eyes. Smiling brightly even though she seemed on the verge of tears, she excused herself from the dining room. I watched her wipe a tear with the edge of her kimono as she shuffled into the kitchen. It seemed Sho had told her of our supposed breakup.
I reached for the tea pot and refilled his cup.
“You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“Okichi told me who to expect.” I made the mistake of looking straight into his eyes. “Okichi is the head maid.”
Sho nodded and quietly watched the steam rise from his cup. His eyes lingered on my neck. “That’s a pretty necklace. Who gave it to you?”
I shot him a withering look. He beamed.
Trying to distract us both, I tucked my hair behind an ear and reached for a plate. Sho handed me a lacquered box of dainty assorted cakes and I realized he had not come empty handed. Trying not to smile openly, I transferred a fragile-looking mango cheesecake into my plate as Sho attempted to pour me some tea. He spilled some on the table, and we hastily struggled to dry it. I couldn’t help smirking.
“How are you?”
“What are you doing here?”
We stared at each other, waiting for the other to answer first. Sho blinked and cleared his throat. “Riko told me I could be sued for breach of contract-”
“Riko?” I intoned dully. “My best friend Riko?”
“Yeah. She called me and told me you told her something important. Then she reminded me we’d agreed that I had to meet your mother at least once for dinner. It was on impulse though. I’m afraid I gave your mother a bit of a shock when I turned up at your front door.”
I frowned. “You imposed upon my mother’s hospitality and insisted on staying until dinner?”
“What do I have to do to convince you I’m actually a nice guy?” He shook his head, looking disgruntled. “I told her I would love to take her out to dinner - I even told her she could name the restaurant, but she insisted on feeding me here.”
I sighed. The explanation made too much sense. “How did you get here anyway?”
“Train,” he supplied simply, tapping his finger on the table. “I return to Tokyo on the midnight express. We start filming the final episode of Meet Joe Black tomorrow.”
“Oh yes, I’m watching that show,” I blurted out. I had been watching Sho’s TBS autumn drama religiously, and even though it was unoriginal and based too heavily on the original American film, I loved it. “You’ve got a great cast working with you. You and Tina Tamashiro look really good together.”
“Yeah.” Sho stared at me beadily. “You haven’t answered my question.”
I felt my fingers go numb. He was still staring eerily at me. “I’m fine. I’m teaching. At my old college department.” I occupied myself by poking the topping on my uneaten cheesecake. “My students don’t seem to respect me very much given I’m not much older than them. I don’t remember being that disrespectful when I was an undergrad there though-”
“You look pale.” He frowned. “And you’ve lost so much weight.”
I shrugged. “It’s my first semester as a college instructor. I suppose premature aging is an occupational hazard.”
By contrast he looked even younger than the last time I’d seen him. He was sporting a new, shorter haircut, and I was surprised to find it wasn’t the same as the one he had had in all of his shows the previous week - even the Monday ZERO broadcast. The flush in his cheeks stood out in his pale face, and even his fingernails were freshly manicured. He looked a decade younger.
As Riko had earlier that morning lectured me on the dermatological benefits of getting laid, I desperately wanted to ask if he had a new girlfriend. Or not-so girlfriend. But I settled for gripping the edges of the table and, struggling to smile, told him, “If you were a girl you could pass as one of my students. It irritates me.”
The smirk that I had not seen in ages flitted into his face instantly. As he opened his mouth to retort, however, footsteps came running in the hallway behind us, and the door of the dining room was unceremoniously flung open.
My gorgeous sister, clutching her three year old son in one arm as her six year old daughter held on to her coat, stood at the threshold like a frozen painting. Our stressed-out mother, still wearing an apron, hovered beside her with an anxious expression. “I don’t believe it.”
With the family’s Madonna insisting on being beside Sho until the moment he left, there had been no other opportunities for the two of us to talk properly. I sat beside him all throughout dinner, but aside from his asking me to pass him the salt we exchanged no other words. He beat my older brother at high-end Baba Nuki, and exchanged idol gossip with my younger one. At half past eight, I watched him get into a taxicab with an apologetic expression on his face. I waved as it drove away, smiling faintly at my family and the household staff who were still in awe at the unexpected encounter.
I was the first to go back into the house.
Sho had come only to fulfill his part of the contract. And now we were officially done.
Part 3
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Part 2 End.
__
A/N
This is a shameless plug of Meet Joe Black, which I love to bits. Since I watched that movie, I’ve been fantasizing over dear Sho playing Joe Black, down to the use of unnaturally polite language and the obsession for peanut butter.
To clear things up, MatsuJun’s advice was inspired by a Natal Chart reading I had done for Sho - because stalker-ism has no bounds. His astrology reading says he’s not the type to be patient with people who don’t want him. Besides, if you’re a Super Idol who has the whole world falling at your feet, why would you bother with one person who doesn’t think you’re epic?
Tamashiro Tina is the poor, gorgeous model that Sho and Ariyoshi-san had as a guest on Ima Kono Kao - the same fifteen-year old netizens attacked for confessing to Sakurai on television. I kid you not. They look good together. [19.12, 26 May 2013]