Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"A conscious heart is not immune to change.

It takes because it wants everything, and gives because it deserves nothing.

A human heart is one that has the willingness to forgive oneself,

to have love for oneself,

And, to have mercy for oneself."

A hundred tree leaves swayed. Tiny, dancing shadows formed to a ruffled promenade under a star-filled sky. From this high perch—overlooking the walkways and distant courtyard of the school grounds—both the bright and dim shades of dusk were sprawled in clear, unobstructed view as one shade bled into the other.

Captivating, just as well as it was cold. The accompanying chill of the approaching evening had made the lone student realize just how much of her mind she had let wander so aimlessly, collecting those wistful, impassioned thoughts. Thoughts both endearing and sad, both bitter and sweet. Warmth of her breath formed to short-lived puffs whenever her hands cupped over her nose.

"What am I doing?" Ichika muttered with a slow shake to her head.

One room. One room for each of them—her and her sisters. That was the promise they had all made for each other; the rule to yet another game. No matter what may come of the next few moments—whatever choice Uesugi Fuutarou would make—the five of them shall accept the outcome, knowing that this past year had given them ample time to lay their hearts bare. It was closure. Closure for themselves, for any harsh feelings left to bury, and for the person fate had humorously twisted between them.

Ichika took long back and forth strides across the balcony, running her fingers across the cold metal rails. "Sorry, Fuutarou." Ichika muffled a short giggle. "We haven't always been the most fair to you, have we? From the very beginning, things always ended up being a little harder than they needed to be. We've troubled you. We've placed burdens on you. Not like this time is any different, either."

She breathed slowly again into her palms. "I wonder... just what kind of face would you be making right about now? How slowly you must be walking through these empty halls. After all this time, do you have any doubts behind that door you're standing behind? Whether it be Nino, Miku, Yotsuba, Itsuki..."

The short puffs of her breath grew in tandem with the time she spent in this lonely silence. Ichika wondered, between the large wave of change that was the entirety of this past year, just when had she found the time to appreciate a moment where time moved slowly? A long, tranquil moment to simply think without distraction.

Adolescence and youth seemed like such a strange thing to look back on now. She had thought of it as something much older people would do for the times that had already fleeted. For both pleasantries and for regrets. Eighteen years to a lifetime. Eighteen years as the eldest of her sisters. Even if they were all quintuplets, the responsibility of the eldest sister had a funny way of finding itself onto her shoulders. To be the first shoulder to cry on; to be the first to turn to for advice; to be the first to take a step forward.

Eighteen years. Eighteen years, yet, nothing ever did quite compare to the journey she would call this past year. Debuting as an actress, owning their first apartment, making it to graduation—a fitting finale to these past years of high school and onto that even stranger thing called adulthood.

It was those collective moments across a single year that made the past Nakano Ichika seem so simple and wide-eyed in comparison. It was the fresh fallen snow that molded ambitious footprints marched forward. It was slow dribbles of an early rain, oblivious to any warnings of the coming storm. It was the insufferable fluster of summer heat—a swelter so harsh, the world would hardly blame you for hesitating and turning back. It was everything. Everything that resembled her true self, collected to these fateful days.

And, it was the bittersweet taste of her first love.

"...and, whether it be me too." Ichika leaned onto the railings so that her chin tucked into her arms. "Would it be...okay for me to dream just a little bit? At least that much? After all, how much longer do we have to hold onto these feelings?"

Perhaps time moving so quickly had always been a blessing in disguise. This long, patient silence bled like the trickle of sand through an hourglass. It only took one long gaze for time to move to a crawl; like eyes were the invisible hands that somehow choked the thin, fragile neck of the glass. Slow, trickling passage.

This seeming pause of time was not just time spent alone by herself, but with herself—with Nakano Ichika. What right did she have to be proud? If this past year was everything that encompassed her—down to the true colors of her heart—then she deserved nothing.

No matter how much she may think that she may have grown, Ichika knew one thing that would not change; that being the oldest of the five sisters, trust was inherent. Trust was something that seemingly fell right into place without any question. An elder sister who could tell no lies. An elder sister who should tell no lies. Naturally, that also meant convincing lies—even a little white lie here and there—trickled off the tongue as easily as it was to breathe. Truth and lies were the bow and strings of an instrument, and if dissonance could disguise as melody, then Nakano Ichika was a virtuoso.

If it was just one truth she could tell herself, it was that someone who takes everything deserves nothing. Starvation fitting for a black heart.

And still, she continued to watch. To watch and wait, with nothing but the repetition of branches, leaves, and especially, the passing breeze. It was sweet, blissful, repentant silence.

A silence a little less lonely.

"Cold out here, isn't it?" the voice candidly surrounded her.

A voice she knew far too well. One capable of both frustration and fluster. A voice that spoke sweet, endearing words, and just as well scolded with patience so thinned—all behind the gentle hand caressing over head. "...Ichika."

It was almost too easy.

She had thought herself as content with the way things were, as complacent with anything else but this. She tried. She tried as hard as she could, but it was all too easy. Nothing else in the world could ever make her betray the peace she had long tried to settle in her mind. Nothing else in the world could quickly make every other thought meaningless.

"...yeah." Ichika muttered. "It is, Fuutarou-kun."

A stiff, hesitant silence was not something to be surprised with when it came to Fuutarou. That was fine. This moment was enough. Anything more, and Ichika would not have the first idea on what to do, or what to say. It gave her more time to calm her rapidly-beating heart, but even if the stars in the sky would eventually fade, Ichika felt like it would hardly slow a beat.

Fuutarou took a deep breath. "Ichika—"

"Fuutarou-kun." Ichika straightened her arms with a long, slow pull of the railings. "Is it alright if we just stand here quietly for a little bit longer? Sorry, but, a part of me is still trying to convince me that you picked the room with the wrong quint. I won't be mad if you did." She laughed to herself. "You do know you can't just go sneaking up on a girl like that when she's alone, you know?"

Her eyes turned to the evening sky. "Just a moment ago, you seemed so far away, Fuutarou-kun. I've had a long time to think it over. More than I thought I would ever need. A year has come and gone, just like that, and we all have changed so much. It's almost bizarre. Ever since you entered our lives... there are times where I just can't find the right things to say or think when it comes to you. Right now, I just want to stay right here. You don't mind, do you?"

Please, Ichika begged her own beating heart, please slow down. Just a little bit. Otherwise, I hardly will be able to to think strai—

"Actually," Fuutarou interrupted with an unexpected harshness to his tone, "I do mind. I mind the absolute hell out of it."

"Huh?" Ichika finally turned to him, hardly able to contain the stiffened expression on her face. Far too quick that the sentimental tears in her eyes had hardly started to surface. "Come again..?"

"I said it bothers the hell out of me, Ichika."

She gave a long, confused look. So, that was the kind of face Fuutarou was making. A rosy flush across his cheeks. The tight wrap of his fingers over the metal rails of the balcony. Brows furrowed deeply with a nervous drop of sweat to its side. Fluster and frustration, perfect to the last letter.

"You have a lot of nerve trying to make any more demands from me," Fuutarou said. "After all the trouble you girls keep putting me through. Especially you, Ichika. All of the constant teasing, the insubordination, nearly dropping out of school and making me spend so much of my hard-earned money to drag you back, and... that... kiss..."

Fuutarou rushed a cough, seemingly to mask the sudden slow cadence of his voice. "...and for making me search for you all the way up here, and for picking the furthest room on the highest floor of the entire school! Of course I mind it!"

He paused only to collect his breath. "I was the one who owed the five of you an answer. I thought long and hard about how I should handle this. All this time... all this time I took to muster the courage, yet you all still find ways to get right under my skin with your mischievous games." He placed a firm hand over his chest. "I think it's about time I put down some of my own rules too! Starting now, I am going to tell you everything about how I feel, Ichika, and you are going to listen."

"Huh...?" Ichika repeated again. If, by any chance, Ichika would imagine the way Uesugi Fuutarou would confess to a girl, then she had hardly expected it to be like this. Such a thought could only lead to a sudden puff of her cheeks that quickly escaped into laughter. "What the heck is all of that, Fuutarou? Here I was, trying to make a special memory of this; I should have known you'd pull something unexpected. Like, I knew you were fussy, but this is something else! It's hilarious! Were you really holding all of that in, all of this time?"

"Tch." Fuutarou clicked his teeth. "Go ahead, keep teasing me. Get it all out of your system."

Even if she were the only one, Ichika laughed. What on earth could she ever call this feeling? It felt like all the restlessness, all the anxiety had been snatched away, and all she could do was laugh. "Sorry, sorry," she said. "I really just don't know what to say right now or how to feel at all right now. I've been trying my hardest, but lately, I just can't think straight at all when it comes to you." Ichika collected herself, then faced him. "It's been hard for you, hasn't it, Fuutarou? All this time... just... sorry. Please, go ahead. I want to hear all of it. What exactly is Uesugi Fuutarou thinking right now?"

The reddish flush to Fuutarou's face had already made it all the way to the ends of his ears. His hand covered the twist and squirm of his lips and Ichika wanted nothing more than to pry his hands away so that she may savor every last detail of his embarrassed face. She wanted to. She wanted to do all of that and more, but for now, Ichika knew Fuutarou deserved at least this much. This bashful face of Fuutarou's did nothing to hide the embarrassment in his eyes and Ichika dared not to look away from them for a second. She tucked the fringe of her hair behind her ear, facing Fuutarou earnestly. "I'm all ears."

Fuutarou steeled himself. There was no turning back now. "For the longest time, all I was good for was studying. All I strived for was studying. At school, at home, weekends, holidays, before bed and almost every other waking moment, I studied. I thought I was doing something good for myself and for my family. Walking by and seeing my name on top of that list everyday, it convinced me that I was doing something right And so I stood, unchanging."

He took a slow breath. "But soon, life will throw more at me than just papers to tests and marks for quizzes. Even if I go on to a good college, get a job, and help pay off the family debt, what else would there be left for me? At what point during all of that will I have considered my life has begun? A year ago, I would not have seen a problem with any of it. A year ago, I could not have cared any less for something like the school festival, or going to the beach with classmates. And even further than all of that, I would have scoffed over the idea of it, but... well, love is... I... I never really understand liking someone, or affection, or intimacy, or... any of that stuff at all, really. It was all just a waste of time. But then... you five somehow ended up in my life"

He paused, looking into her eyes.

"You five... the, without a doubt, most... troublesome. Annoying. Idiotic group of sisters I would ever have the misfortune of getting tangled up with."

Ichika gave a nervous chuckle.

"The five of you didn't give a damn about studying or your grades. I thought the five of you were near-hopeless; that you were all lost, spoiled brats without a shred of discipline, and it was my job to correct that. It was just business. I was going to help you all reach graduation. Then, I found myself getting more and more involved with more than just your studies, but your futures as well. I wanted nothing more than to see bright futures for all of you, even going as far as to thinking it was my responsibility, when all I was really doing was meddling."

"Meddling?" Ichika raised a brow. "You're giving yourself too little credit, Fuutarou. You don't realize just how much you've helped us when we were just five fools."

"No, you don't get it." Fuutarou sighed. "In the end the most foolish person of all was... me. As if I were any better beyond academia. You asked me before, 'why does a tutor like you have to care so much about this?' And, you were right. But before I could come up with a real answer to it, it was already too late. I let myself fall and drown in everything that has happened in the past year. Like everything I knew didn't matter anymore. Like I was slowly betraying the ideal I had long set for myself, but that wasn't true at all; I was only realizing the truth I had always rejected and kept away. You five aren't the ones who were lost. I was."

"What do you mean, Fuutarou?" asked Ichika. "All I can really think of were the countless times we've been nothing but a bother to you. Saying something like that is... well..."

"You're not wrong." Fuutarou bluntly stated.

Ichika knew better than to be surprised over something she so willingly stated, but it was hard not to show it on her face "You really don't mince your words, do you?"

"Ha." Fuutarou gave a dry laugh. "If that were true, then I'd have unleashed hell on you and those four living-headaches you call 'sisters' a long time ago. You don't know half of the things I've always wanted to say."

"Well aren't you just the charmer, Fuutarou." Ichika chuckled. "But I guess saying something like that is just like you. Then? What good could five pretty little disasters have brought into your life?"

"To be honest with you..." Fuutarou looked to the stars in the sky. "More than I could have ever imagined. You five were the ones who taught me what I needed to learn about was myself. Even if that part about being a bother was true, not every day was unpleasant. Meeting the five of you... I feel like I finally understand now. I can come to understand some things that really do matter."

Ichika remained silent. The look in Fuutarou's eyes was enough to tell. They were not the same like she had always looked into. They were wiser, a little more mature. It was a brief glint much like her own. One that had starred into the budding spirit of foolish adolescence, gathered all of its precious memories, and tucked it somewhere that will never be forgotten.

"Nino is harsh, brash, and sometimes, that girl can be downright terrifying." Fuutarou said with a nervous glance over his shoulder, as if Nino were somehow listening. "She's a bullet train whose stops are only to hell and back. Right when we met, the two of us could hardly get along, much less think on the same page. Though, with time, I've come to understand a little bit about her. Nino is that way because she is proud, and because she is honest to a fault. She has something she values more than anything in the world, and anything or anyone else be damned. What she wants may eventually change, but if its anything Nino knows, it's that everything she needs, she already has. She never hides who she is, she never stumbles when it comes to her feelings, and I cannot help but have nothing but respect for her. Nino has taught me that there is no time in this world for nonsense, and there is nothing more frivolous than second-guessing yourself."

"Miku has always seemed like that shy, meek kind of girl." Fuutarou's expression softened to a calm smile. "She was someone whose feelings only mattered for herself. Even with four identical sisters, Miku looked lonely. A mysterious, soft-spoken quint with her own dorky tastes, but riddled with self-doubt. She was a student that I thought I had to carefully handle so that she could fully bloom, but all she needed... was nothing more than a tiny push. Just a little nudge in the right direction. Miku has always been strong, and has never been any less than capable, and the person that she has become can make any sister, friend, and teacher proud. Staying beside Miku it's taught me that who you are isn't the kind of person you've always convinced yourself to be."

"Yotsuba... where do I even start with Yotsuba?" Fuutarou pinched his chin, thinking of all the words for her. "From the very start, Yotsuba was the only compliant one with me being your tutor. She was someone who I felt fortunate for having stood by my side, but I realized, so did she with everyone else. Her tutor, friends, clubs, and especially her sisters. She is loud, a little too outgoing, and it may look like that girl wears her heart right on her sleeve, but no one is ever that simple. She is a terrible liar with a lot to hide. Someone who selflessly keeps her distance, where all her secrets can be safe. From Yotsuba, I've come to understand that selfishness is sometimes deserved, even if it means to disagree with others."

"Itsuki is... well... hmm..." Fuutarou furrowed his brows. This quint was a bit of a struggle for him. "Well, Itsuki and I never see eye to eye, and I don't think we ever will. We argue and we fight the moment we walk into the same room. But, there was a certain nosy older sister that helped me realize something. That we fight like we're friends; that we are too alike. Itsuki may be dense, she may stubborn—no, she one hundred percent is—but so am I. She is so awkwardly stupid that she doesn't even know how much of an idiot she can be—and I am guilty all the same. However, the Itsuki I never got to see was someone who tries every day live up to to the expectations she put onto herself, and when she fails, there is no one harder on her than herself. As much as we disagree with one another, I can't help but acknowledge it. Itsuki is earnest, but more importantly, she is humble."

Fuutarou took a deep breath, then faced forward. "And you, Ichika..."

"Oh no..." Ichika's cheeks flustered. She definitely knew this was coming, but even if she did, nothing could prepare her how anxious her heart grew. "I'd never have thought I'd say this, but a part of me wishes you'd keep talking about other girls, Fuutarou."

"Ichika." Fuutarou stood straight. "You are a lot of things. You are the oldest, the hardest-working, and the one whose always held her head highest. You look after your sisters more than anyone else, and there is nothing you wouldn't give to see the best for them. Before I knew it, I already started relying on you too. When things got tough and I unsure of what to do, you always noticed and gave me advice. When I told you acting was a waste of time that would get in the way of your studies, you did nothing but prove me wrong. Truthfully, I sometimes am envious of you. You sometimes might act as spoiled as the rest of them, but you really do give it your all. You really are one heck of an older sister. Always looking at your future, working hard on your dreams, studying during your rehersals... it's no wonder the rest of them can look up to you. I could do well to learn all of that from you."

"Yeah..." Ichika looked down, a half-hearted smile forming on her lips.

No, she thought to herself. Just how much do you think you could understand in only one year? She was a liar. From the very start, she has always been a liar. The wise, older sister who can be blindly trusted without a hint of doubt. The actress who knew a million words for a thousand faces. A liar who deserved nothing, especially not envy. "Thank you, Fuu—"

"But, more than just the oldest," Fuutarou loudly proclaimed, "you are also an identical quint. The 'oldest' one only by a few seconds before your other sisters. Ask yourself how ridiculous that might sound sometimes. Your confidence has always been your greatest strength, but past that cool and mature exterior, I saw someone who learned to fake all of it. I saw someone who held their head the highest because she had to. But, for once you need to tell yourself that it's okay for you to make some mistakes of your own too. It's okay to forgive yourself when you are wrong. You are a lot of things, Ichika. You are air-headed, lazy, undisciplined, and a complete slob. You are also mature, composed, and right now, you are the most beautiful I have ever seen you."

Fuutarou suffered one moment of hesitation when he saw just how wide Ichika's eyes grew. He saw how suddenly her body jerked, how quickly her face grew red, and the twitch of her lips, no doubt empty of any words to react, that the only sound she could make was something between a choke, a gasp, and a quickly-muffled yelp, all at once. "Fuutarou-kun..." Ichika begun, but he would not let her.

"You are human," Fuutarou said. "You are you. Someone who always shined brightest in my eyes. A proud and troublesome student who went beyond all of my expectations. A kind, loving older sister with a heart sometimes too big for her own good. A partner whose true smile tells me everything I already know. And, a girl who knows the exact words to make every piece of my mind scatter, and if it means having to spend the rest of my life confused, defenseless, and embarrassed, then it will all be worth it if it meant that person beside me was you, Ichika."

Ichika was hopeless.

Honest, sincere feelings, stripped bare with no more lies left to hide behind. It was not fair. It was not fair for there to be someone in the world that could see straight through her. It was not fair that he was standing right here in front of her. Uesugi Fuutarou. That one troubled boy she had curiously approached in the school cafeteria. The memory of the boy she had once met five years ago in Kyoto. The pry of his fingers, pulling apart the fake smile she had always thought perfect. His tired, meddling head that rested peacefully on her lap on that park bench. His unending stubbornness that rivaled her own. The abiding sweetness of his lips.

Everything. Every last moment. Pure, simple love reminiscent from the smallest flicker of a campfire in that dim camp storeroom. The lingering scent of smoke, the brief rain of the sprinklers, the dance she always wanted, the small glint of a dainty, little campfire in his golden eyes. A year's worth of glowing memories that fanned that stubborn, relentless flame.

And all Ichika wanted to do was burn.

"Ha... How's that?" A trickle of sweat fell from Fuutarou's brow, and still, he forced a cocky grin. The heaviness of his breath had finally broken through, but the only sensation he would concern himself with was the loud throbbing at his chest. "Where has that cool, playful older sister gone? Have I finally won one over you? Isn't this when you always have something t—"

"Fuutarou."

"Hu—"

Fuutarou felt thin arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down closer. One last lie. It would be the last lie Ichika would ever tell. Just one last lie.

"Fuutarou-kun." Ichika repeated.

"Hey... Ichi—"

That day in Kyoto. The slight shift of his embarrassed gaze. The small poke of his helpless cheekbones. The isolated streets where she conceded the last of her feelings.

'Everything's a lie' she had then said. Desperations of a deceiver who could never manage to lie to herself. Let that be the absolute last.

Ichika leaned closer.

Nothing was ever a lie.

Fuutarou felt soft lips pressed harshly against his, knowing there were no other feelings holding them back. He tightly grasped the cold, metal rails pushed against his back, leaving only his shoulders to lean over the edge of the balcony. A hundred different thoughts raced through his head, yet he could hardly remember a single word of any of them. Only the cold of the evening breeze and the warmth of her lips. That much was enough to make every muscle in his body, and every bit of his heart, want nothing more than to stay like this.

"I love you, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika said, smiling. An honest, sincere smile. "From this moment, and for the rest of my life, that is all I'll ever need to say to you. From now and forever, there is nothing else that I can hide from you."

All at once, the evening sky had never shone brighter in Fuutarou's eyes.

"Well?" Ichika pressed a finger to her lips. "How's that? All of my wishes, my hopes, and my heart—everything. Every last thing. It's all yours, Fuutarou. Please don't ever forget any of it."

Chapter Text

It was much quieter than she would have thought. If not for the slow creep of the outside shadows, Itsuki would have hardly remembered that this much time had past since the day's end, nor would she have remembered how frightening it was to be left alone. The halls had grown too quiet. Peaceful, but still too quiet for her own comfort. She would have done for a few more minutes contained in worriment in that empty classroom. Just a little more time to doubt the absurdity of this little game, even if all it meant were a few more moments of distraction.

"It must be about time." Itsuki cautiously peered outside her door. Surely, those slow-paced footsteps she had heard from before were Fuutarou's. At least, Itsuki had hoped they were Fuutarou's. No one else should be wandering the building at this time; all the other students should have already gathered by the bonfire. But if, by any chance, there were someone wandering these halls at this time, or even, something...

Itsuki quickly shook her head. Now was not the time for thoughts like that, and she would do better to keep herself moving forward.

She had purposely picked a room closer to the building's entrance, near where their paths would diverge to separate rooms in separate halls or floors. It was better for Itsuki to get things over with quickly, rather than loiter in some empty classroom waiting for things to finish blowing over.

Complete and utter nonsense! An entire year of just mess after mess, not once letting common sense take control. How on earth had they let things go this far? For the five of them to spend the last of the festival separated in different rooms, waiting for one guy. For those four sisters of hers to somehow fall hopelessly in love with their tutor. Try as she might, there was no hope for rationality beyond this point.

Itsuki sighed, placing one hand over her chest. If it were one thing that could distract her from her fear of the darkness, it was how quickly her heart was still beating.

Shamefully, those wild, irresponsible thoughts had crossed her mind maybe once or twice in these last few minutes. That was—by some ridiculous circumstance—that Uesugi Fuutarou could have somehow found himself at the door to her own classroom. Once or twice the thought might have crossed her mind. A third time was deserving of strict punishment, delivered by repeated knocks to her own head. Give her as many thoughts of who or what could lurk within these shadows; nothing could horrify her more than that.

Come to think of it, the five sisters had not quite thought through these rules so well. What would signal the end to their little game? When were they supposed to all meet again, and to return home as if nothing had really changed? Then again, this sort of effort was just like them. Favor the most agreeable choice of five minds, and share the responsibility as five parts. It always worked out best that way, even if it was not always the smartest. It was always much simpler to agree.

But of course, things were never that simple. Not all the time.

There would always be some regrets left over. Some pieces to pick up after. At the very least, they would always have each other.

With a relieved sigh, Itsuki looked to the evening sky from the stairway windows. Whatever may become of these next moments...

"It all starts here, Uesugi-kun."

As for herself, there were other things that only they as sisters could do. And that would start at the front of this ajar classroom door.

With a gentle tap, Itsuki slid the door open.

"Yotsuba."

The first thing Itsuki saw was the slow turn of the green ribbon, then the blink of widened eyes looked her way. "Huh? Itsuki...? What are you doing here?"

For a moment, Itsuki just stood quietly. Even that brief moment was enough for her to tell. A puzzled sort of expression was far from unusual when it came to Yotsuba, though, that wide, seemingly blank, stare looked like it gazed for miles. A paused sort of gaze, one betwixt many thoughts and ideas that collided at once, the moment Yotsuba's eyes met Itsuki's. Slow and quiet. Even for someone as unpredictable as Yotsuba, behavior like that was already strange.

Itsuki cleared her throat. "You uhm... your door was left open. I thought you might have already left and came to check, but ahh... are you doing alright? That is... I mean..."

Shoot. This was a lot more difficult than Itsuki could have realized. Being the youngest of the five, she was never accustomed to consoling the others. After all, she considered Yotsuba, Miku, Nino, and Ichika to all be her older sisters. She could think of more times she had depended on them rather than the latter.

"I see..." Yotsuba stared through the nearby window "It's all over, huh? Well then... "

Yotsuba stretched widely, accompanied with a gradual, tired groan. "That's a big relief! Boy, I wasn't sure how long we'd be cooped up in here. Thanks for coming to get me, Itsuki. Now, where are the others? Are they all waiting outside, or did you come by here first?"

"Yotsuba..." Itsuki looked at her uncertainly. "I know I've asked you this before, but are you really sure you're okay with this? I mean, you really do lo—"

"And I told you before too." Yotsuba flashed a quick smile. "It's better this way. Fuutarou was someone I liked a long time ago. We were kids back then, so of course we just say things. A lot of times, it's just nonsense." She quietly laughed. "Yeah... just nonsense."

She felt Itsuki's hand grab onto her arms.

"Then what is that behind your back?" Itsuki returned an unwavering gaze. "You've always been saying that all you wanted was to be his ally. That you were everyone's ally. That things would be better if you stayed in the background, but if it that were true, you wouldn't be smiling like that, right? Why else would you have that with you?"

"Ha... I really am a bad liar, aren't I?" Yotsuba smiled a fake smile, not bothering to hide it. "You see right through me."

Pinched gingerly between her fingers was a photograph. One she had never kept further from her heart, not since the day it was taken. Many times, Yotsuba would find herself gazing longingly into the eyes of the girl in the photograph. To her long, straight hair that poorly matched the boy's ruffled, spikes. To the wide, ambitious smile that stretched from the corners of her cheeks that clashed with the annoyed scowl of the boy's. Not a day would pass within these last five years where she would not think of her and that boy in Kyoto.

"I thought... it would be the last time I could hold onto these feelings." Yotsuba quietly shook her head. "I wonder... have I really changed at all from back then? Can I really look at the girl in here and think, 'wow, look how silly I was back then,'? Fuutarou has already changed himself since then. For the better. At the very least, that mean look he has hasn't changed a bit." She forced a short laugh. "As for me..."

Yotsuba turned to face Itsuki. "Here, Itsuki."

"You're giving this to me?"

"I don't need it anymore. Not that I know what you could do with it, though. Oh! Maybe you can play a prank on Fuutarou using it? I'm sure he hasn't figured out yet that—"

"I think you should keep it," Itsuki interrupted, gently pushing Yotsuba's hands back so that the photo stayed close to her chest. "I... I really don't know if I am in any right to say this, but I think you should hold onto this. All of these feelings you have attached to it... they all don't have to go away right now. It all does not have to be an unpleasant memory."

Yotsuba sat down, solemnly fixing her gaze to the floor and to the dirt-brushed bits of her shoes. "I... I don't know either, Itsuki. I really don't know..."

Itsuki remained silent.

"I just don't know." Yotsuba shook her head. "I thought that if I kept telling myself that was all I wanted, then surely by now, it would be true. I thought the first thing I would do was to burst through the door and congratulate them. But all I feel is this icky feeling inside of me. It's funny, don't you think? That I can somehow feel disappointed? Uesugi-san should be with the one he loves, and as for me, well... all we were... all he was to me... was a boy I met five years ago. That's all—"

Yotsuba felt a light tap on her shoulder, then, the softness of cloth pressed lightly against her cheek. "You don't have to force yourself, Yotsuba," Itsuki said, holding a handkerchief to Yotsuba's cheek. "If you have anything to say, I'm here to listen."

Only now did Yotsuba realize how damp the cloth had grown. Tears as heavy as the feeling at her chest. Tears that trickled warmly down her cheeks, enough to melt the smile on her face. "I loved him, Itsuki," she said with a broken voice. "All of this time, I really did love him."

"There there..." Itsuki sat beside her, placing one hand on her shoulder. "It's all going to be alright, Yotsuba. You stayed strong until the very end."

"I don't understand." Yotsuba covered her eyes. "I thought I would be happier this way. I thought I would feel relieved. But... but..."

"No one can blame you feeling this way, Yotsuba."

"But I don't want to end up hating any of them! I don't want to go there!"

"You won't, Yotsuba. Trust me, you won't."

"But what if I do? What if this gross, icky feeling inside of me turns me into a bad person? What will—"

"You aren't like that." Itsuki wrapped her hands over Yotsuba's, ending with her little finger tightly locked with Yotsuba's. "You aren't."

For as long as Yotsuba would need, Itsuki continued to stay beside her. To warmly place her own hand over Yotsuba's whenever it would grip tightly onto her sleeve. To calmly hush the tiny sniffles that muffled against her sleeve. "It must have been so hard for you, Yotsuba," Itsuki whispered. "Go ahead and let it all out. I am here for you."

Itsuki followed the moonlit glare against the windowpane. Yes, those long, chaotic days that have made up this past year, were all nearing its end. Only a few months were left for them to make their last memories to these youthful days. So many memories tied to one fateful encounter.

Uesugi Fuutarou.

In the end, you were nothing but trouble. An awkward, meddling, tactless disaster. And looking back on all of it now, Itsuki could not help but feel grateful, in some odd way. She could not explain it back then, and she cannot explain it now, but things had changed. Bit by bit, within Fuutarou and within all five of them, nothing would ever be the same. If it was one thing Itsuki felt assured with was that it was for the better.

After some time, Yotsuba slowly stood back on her feet. "It's okay Itsuki." Yotsuba grinned widely as she swept her finger over the swollen marks of her eyes. "I'll be okay. Thanks for coming to check on me."

There was the face Itsuki had never been more relieved to see.

Before she could find the words to say, there was a low, soft rattling sound that came with the slide of the door beside them.

The shadowy figure watching directly at them instantly sent Itsuki to her feet, consequently ramming her forehead against Yotsuba's nose.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to startle you two!" Stood at the doorway was Miku, looking to them worriedly as they groaned on the floor. "Are... are you two okay?"

"Ow... ow... my hea—Yotsuba!" Itsuki helped her back up. "Oh no, your nose is bleeding! I'll go get something for you, hang on! I am so, so—"

To their surprise, Yotsuba was laughing.

Nothing like small chuckles, but boisterous, energetic laughter. "I'm alright! I'm alright!" Yotsuba slowly stood up, one hand cupped over her bleeding nose. "Boy, you really do have a hard head, Itsuki! Luckily, we're in the infirmary so there should be some bandages here... AH!" Yotsuba pointed to the door. "Miku! When did you get here?!"

"I've been standing... I was... no, wait, more importantly are you—" Miku was stalled in the middle of different thoughts, bouncing off different words until she saw the slow trickle of blood seep through Yotsuba's fingers. "Yotsuba, your nose! Go get something to stop the bleeding!"

"Oh, that's right! I almost forgot!" Yotsuba disappeared to the further corner of the room, rummaging through drawer after drawer and slamming them shut just as quickly.

"How could you forget?" Itsuki rubbed her bruised forehead. "Honestly..."

"Is she really okay?" asked Miku. "That looked like it really hurt."

"She'll be fine. Probably." Itsuki turned to Miku, noticing similar swollen marks on her eyes. "Oh, Miku... your eyes. Are you okay? Have you been—"

"It's alright." Miku smiled in repose. "There's no need to make a face like that for me. I'm alright, really."

"But it must have been hard for you too. I can't imagine not being there for you when you were suffering alone. I only wish there was somehow I could have been—"

"No." Miku shook her head. "I wasn't alone. Nino and I were with each other, and we already cried enough. I don't think I have any more tears left for today. And that is just fine. Now come on. Our last festival isn't over yet, so we should spend it together."

"Oh, but wait. You said you were with Nino, right? Then where is she?"

"Ah..." Miku looked behind her. "Nino... said she had to do something. She didn't say what."

The evening breeze blew colder along the narrow pathways. Its low whistle rang past the ground shrubbery, and rose high to the overhanging leaves. Once in a while, the stray breeze would pluck one of the weakly-held leaves to accompany its lonely passage now that the once-crowded festival stalls have all since emptied. It should be about now. All students should have now gathered by the Sunrise Festival's conclusive bonfire, marking one less moment for youth's fading revelry.

All students, save for the two strolling at each other's side.

"I suppose the first thing I should offer you is my congratulations." A quick hiss slipped underneath Nino's fingers as she opened a can of tea. "And a 'thanks' for the tea."

Rumbles of another can bounced between the metal walls of the vending machine. "Ah ha..." Ichika gave a stilted laugh. "It still doesn't sound quite right to be hearing something like 'congratulations,' after all that has happened."

"I see..." Nino leaned her back against the machine, quietly in thought. "Then, I guess it's just a 'thanks' for the tea. So? What exactly did you want from me?"

Ichika cracked open her own can. Sweetened coffee. The taste was not too bad, though she could do with something a little less strong. "Who knows? It seemed like the right thing to do at the moment."

"'Who knows'? What kind of reason is that, Ichika?"

Ichika sighed. "How long has it been since just the two of us went for a walk like this? Lately, when it's between the two of us, I can't help but feel there's been... something between us. Like we're always butting heads over something. Like we always have a lot on our mind for each other. Do you think that maybe—"

"Look, I get what you're trying to do, Ichika." Nino shot her a glare. "All of us, including you, were serious about this. We prepared ourselves for anything, and Fuu-ku—" She cut herself off with a harsh cough. "...Fuutarou, chose you. And more than anything I want to congratulate you, but, you doing this kind of thing doesn't make things easier."

"Doing what kind of thing?"

"Playing the doting older sister, of course! I know you're used to being the one that tries to comfort us, so it's gotta be real hard trying to do that now, isn't it? Well I don't need any of it. I don't need your pity."

Ichika leaned back. "You really think all of that?"

"I do." Nino said flatly.

For some time, the two just stood their distance from each other in silence. Gentle rustles of the nearby trees drowned out the distant hollers and cheers of the gathered students from the courtyard, but their isolated corner stayed silent, until the sharp draw of Nino's breath. "No... I don't, Ichika. I can't bring myself to think that way about you, and I hate myself for even trying."

"Nino..."

"That's what I don't get about you, Ichika." Nino tightly wrapped her fingers over the cold tin can of tea. "Out of everyone else, you are the one I cannot understand. I also know what it's like to be the oldest and to look out for the others. Why I feel like I should give Miku a little push when she needs it, why I wouldn't hesitate to stand up for Yotsuba when she's in trouble, or why I need to be hard on Itsuki when she's foolish. But you, Ichika... you are the only one I can really call my older sister, and because you are, I will always feel like you're always one step ahead of me. Like I'm always looking at your back."

"Nino, I think you've got it all wrong. I don't think we've always been—"

Harshly, the cold breeze shoved past. More bits of stray leaves swept and curved along its swaying current, past the lonely gap that existed between them. The ends of their hair lifted, as if shoved away by winds as rude as it was cold.

"Ahh... it's freezing standing out here..." Ichika ran her fingers through the ruffled parts of her hair. The pink strands slipped easily between her fingers, brushing along her forehead, before tucking behind her ears. "Anyways, what I was trying to say was—"

"Hey," Nino interrupted. "Do you like having your hair that short?"

"Huh?"

"Frankly, I'm still not used to it." Nino scrunched together the strands of hair at the back of her head, gliding her fingers so that it trailed down her neck. By the time she had reached her shoulders, she was once again reminded of the cool touch of her skin, unfamiliar to the times when her long hair draped behind. "It's not as short as yours, but it's at least easier to maintain. Though, it can get a lot colder at the back of my neck. Do you really go to a salon that often to keep it like that? Must be really annoying."

Her voice slowly quietened to the point where her words drew to mumbles as she sat on the bench between them.

"Honestly, what am I doing rambling to you like this?" Nino groaned. "What I am trying to say is that… I still don't know what it means to change, Ichika. I still remember the day we first saw you with short hair. You didn't tell any of us. You just did it. And since then, I could no longer see someone who I'd always been completely identical to. Maybe you weren't the first one to change, but, you were the first to start getting ahead. The first out of all of us to start leaving us behind, and you're still so far ahead, no matter what. You have a future to look forward to. A job that you love, a dream that you worked hard for, and now, a new boyfriend that you probably would be better off spending your time with now."

"I don't think all of that is true," Ichika said. "I never saw it all as going ahead of any of you. It's just... we all have to change at some point, right? We'll all eventually have to go our own separate paths."

"Who says things have to change? We always got along so well, even under the same roof. I don't get why you've said that the five of us won't always be like this. You, Ichika. It feels like it's always you who wants to split away from the rest of us."

"Well, dad can't keep spoiling us forever, right? We'll graduate soon, and who knows what the future has in store for the five of us. Who all of us will become. Who else all of us will find in our lives. I doubt any of us will have the same experiences, which is why I don't really see it all as 'going ahead' of the rest of you. Though..."

Ichika looked down onto her lap. "Though, a part of me wishes we could have stayed in those days a little longer. They're all so clear in my mind; it's funny to think that those two girls—who had the exact same face and the exact same hair—are sitting here, talking like this. Even back then, it was always us who disagreed on things. Weird, isn't it? Some things don't seem to change."

"And that's what I'm talking about!" Nino snapped back. "Don't you get it?! You and I are different! We've always been different! Even if the two of us are the older sisters, there is a gap between you and me. I know I said I don't want to end up thinking badly of you, and that I don't want to end up hating you. But..." She bit her lip. "But I can't stop myself from thinking that you have it all! That's why..."

She tightly clenched her fist against her lap. "That's why, for once, I wanted to beat you! I didn't want to keep looking at your back, but to take you down with everything I had, even if you were my sister! I know it sounds ridiculous to let some guy we've only known for a year come to between us, but I was really serious! You don't know... you don't know... how hard I tried."

"Nino..."

"I thought that, maybe, coming forward with all my feelings would make up for awfully I treated Fuutarou from the start. I thought that my love was the strongest, and that I was right. And, when you started showing your bad side, I couldn't help but feel... satisfied. Satisfied to finally watch you fall. Satisfied to see you cry. Satisfied to have been the one whose shoulder was being cried on. Disgusting, isn't it? All of this time... I waited to watch you fall from your high place, forgetting that I was the only one who kept you up there. Just... me..."

Nino grit her teeth. Why could she not have just kept her mouth shut? If it was not her that was chosen, then the least she could do was be happy for the sister that was. Bury the harsh feelings later. Cry for herself later. All she needed to do was make it through this one night. Just like how she had rehearsed the scenario so many times in her head during those long days and nights.

But why was it so hard?

"Which is why I wanted to see you." Ichika sat down on the empty seat beside Nino. "I didn't come for forgiveness for all the mistakes I've made, or to let you scold me for the many lies I've told."

Ichika looked her way. "I wanted to say 'thank you', Nino. Thank you for everything. For all of the pleasures, and all the hardships alike. Somewhere and sometime through all of this, I had to forget you as just one of my sisters. You were more than that; you were my rival. Someone who I knew I had to give it my all if I wanted any chance going against them. And to be honest, that terrified me."

A short laugh muffled in Ichika's palm.

"Just what do you take me for?" Nino huffed. "It's not like I'm some kind of bully, you know?"

"No, no. Not that at all." Ichika waved her hand "Nino, I've been your sister long enough. I thought I could never amount to how bold you can be, but even I had no idea what kind of person you would become when it comes to someone you love. I thought there was no chance. But, when I saw your honest, proud feelings, I couldn't help but envy you."

"Envy? Me?"

"Of course. How could I not?" Ichika leaned her head back. "I know exactly what you mean—I hated that feeling. The more I watched you sincerely put your heart out made me think—if it's really that easy, then why can't I do it? Why was it so hard to be like you? I just couldn't get it. Not one bit of it. All that I knew was... at some point, I just couldn't stand to lose. Not to anyone else, and especially not to you."

She pressed her lips against the cold, tin rim of her can. A lingering, sweet scent to an otherwise bitter taste. "I don't know if I could completely forgive myself any time soon. In the end, I couldn't be like you. I made more mistakes than I ever thought I could, and almost tore apart what we had as sisters because of it. Which is why I have too much to thank you for. You called me out when I took things too far, you comforted Miku in my place. So... thank you. Thank you and..."

"...sorry." Ichika gave a wide, humbled grin. Her delicate cadence, too sincere to mask any lies. "Looks like this big sister of yours messed up quite a bit, huh?"

At first, Nino could hardly find the words to say. After all, the bond between siblings was already an equivocal thing on its own, there was no use trying to unravel it when it came to quintuplets. As long as it was just like this, that would be just fine. Even if there were a lot of things Nino would never understand about Ichika—as long as she knew which words came from the heart, she did not need anything else from any of them.

Though, there was some guilty pleasure that came with those words Nino never knew to be so satisfying.

"'Who knows,' right?" Nino smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I can go on and on about all the times you messed with us when we were kids, or, I can remind you again how badly you made Miku cry. You sure know how to fool all of us, don't you, Ichika? There is a lot of things I feel like I should say with you, now that it's all out in the open, but there is one thing you deserve first."

She pointed a finger at Ichika's face.

"Con-grat-u-la-tions"

Ichika was taken aback.

"I told you before, didn't I?" Nino said, "even if it were you that was chosen, I would have wanted to congratulate you. That goes the same if it were anyone else. Congratulations, and no hard feelings."

"Nino..."

"And if the next thing that comes out of your mouth sounds anything like how you don't deserve it, I don't want to hear it, got it?" Nino sighed. "I know you, and I know Fuu-kun. Uesugi Fuutarou is an idiot, but even that idiot can see right through you. There's not a chance Fuu-kun would have been won over with some lies and tricks, right? That idiot just loves you."

Nino finished the last of her tea in one long swig. "But," she said, "Let me make another thing clear—I mean everything I say. I treasure everything we five have as sisters, I give you my congratulations, and, I still love Fuu-kun. More than anyone else, and that includes you. So, you better watch out, Ichika. These feelings aren't changing any time soon, so you hold on to Fuutarou as tightly as you can, got it?"

"Loud and clear, Nino." Ichika smiled.

She offered her arms held out in an embrace, and being no stranger to every tug and squeeze of that familial love, Nino fell right into it. That was right. Some things probably won't ever change between them. Not as sisters, and not between them. But if she could somehow wish for one thing that would always stay the same between them, well, it would be difficult to imagine anything warmer than this.

"Ichika, you..." Nino sniffled. "You're... kind of holding on to me a bit too tightly. It's kind of hard to..." A quick grunt forced its way from her breath as she tried to pull her shoulders away. "Hey, are you hearing what I'm saying? Ichika. Hey, Ichika!"

"Sorry," Ichika spoke softly with a gentle laugh. "It's become a habit."

"What do you—"

Only now did Nino realize the tears that fell down her cheeks, dampening the cloth under her nose. "Why now..." Nino muttered, raising her wrist to cover her eyes. "Haven't I already cried enough? I told you, Ichika... I didn't need any..."

"I know." Ichika rested one hand over Nino's head, letting her bury her head in her embrace. "I know."

"Why now? Why...?"

Chapter Text

The scent of a bonfire.

Bits of stray embers. Distant murmurs of a hundred voices. Laughter and sadness alike. One last night, and one last festival to celebrate it all.

For Fuutarou, it felt strange to remember a time he disregarded a pleasure so simple. Superfluous, mandatory labor to be wasted on gathering and stacking a pile of logs, all to just watch it burn. Did things like that always seem so unpleasant, now that he looked back on it? Or rather, was he just being too hard on that past self of his?

Though, as these days had since come and gone, he could not help but indulge in the memories he made now. Memories of the night before, all happening in one continuous motion. How closely all those of his year gathered by the bonfire. Loud cheers and laughter of all those that came together as friends. Overflowing courage that sprung from his classmates, pouring their hearts out to ask for that one dance for someone special.

As much as he savored that night, Fuutarou wondered, had he really done the best that he could? After all of that, it was still difficult to confront those five sisters during the bonfire. Nothing more than their ordinary greetings, banters, and bickering, before eventually distancing themselves for the remainder of the night. It seemed like a better idea to let those five share the last of the festival together. Meddling had gotten him too far into this mess from the beginning, he could do well to learn some restraint for at least one night. Either way, Takeda and Maeda were more than enough company.

But, that was all a memory now. The normality of his everyday life had since resumed as Fuutarou now laid his back on the tatami floors of their tiny apartment. In these recent hours, Uesugi Fuutarou had become well-acquainted with the linings of their square ceiling. Everything down to the tiniest of blemishes, as this small ceiling had served as the distant, blurred backdrop of the phone held over his eyes.

Two buttons that he never knew to be so nerve-wracking. 'Call' and 'Mail'—both fixed to the name of one contact.

Nakano, Ichika.

"You've been like this ever since you got home last night, Big Brother."

Drooped above his brow was the large, plume-like fringe of Raiha's hair. His little sister stood over him with a puzzled squint. "What has gotten into you?"

"It's nothing, Raiha. I'm just a little tired."

"It doesn't sound like nothing!" Raiha knelt beside his place on the floor. "I know you, big brother. You're always stuck doing the same thing; it's obvious when something has happened. Come on! Tell me, tell me!"

"Tch." Fuutarou clicked his teeth. "I told you, Raiha, it's nothing. Leave me alone."

"You..." She sniffled.

Fuutarou held his breath. That slight rise to her voice—he knew all too well what trouble that tone of hers invited.

"You... aren't going to talk to your sister...? You really don't trust me?"

He rolled over on his place on the floor, for all the good it will do him. In this this tiny, one-room apartment shared between his father, his sister, and himself, it was not as if he could just shut himself away in his own room.

"Just leave him be, Raiha," their father, Uesugi Isanari, said.

"But I think he's hiding something! It's not fair!"

Fuutarou breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks Da—"

"Of course he's hiding something!" Isanari slapped his newspaper onto their cramped, wooden floor table. "He's a third-year high school boy who's just had his last big event before graduation. No way is it just 'nothing'. I was his age at some point too, you know."

"Eh? You think so too?" Raiha said. "Like what?"

"What else does a boy like him have to worry about?" Isanari laughed loudly. "Girl trouble, of course! The question is, did he get rejected?"

"Dad!"

"Is that true, Big Brother?!"

"No, it's not!"

"Did you ask out one of the quintuplets? Which one, which one?!"

"You're a man now, Fuutarou." Isanari said between spoonfuls of rice. "Be more honest with your feelings. No shame in it."

"Did you finally get your first kiss?!"

"Lay off of me!" Fuutarou sat upright, slamming his arm onto the table. "As if I have nothing better to do than waste my time worrying about stuff like that. Maybe other highschoolers make that the center of their life's problems, but I'm not so naive. Last night was just a huge waste of time. I knew I was better off coming back home and studying."

Their tiny room fell quiet.

"Well..." Raiha said after a while. "I thought you've been having a lot more fun lately, Big Brother, so I thought something might have happened. Spending so much time with your friends at the festival... confessing to the girl you like..." Raiha giggled innocently. "You're right. It does sound a little too normal for you, Big Brother."

Fuutarou looked away. Normal? That was right. For as long as he had known, Fuutarou had valued his own status-quo. Days and days spent with his nose tucked between the pages of books and paper. Conditioned for that and nothing more.

Isanari pressed his knuckles to his cheek, looking to him with an unconvinced smirk. "Is that so?" He said. "Well, that's that, then." He lifted himself to his feet, then grabbed the coat hanging beside him. "Come on, Raiha. We had some shopping planned."

"Oh." Fuutarou began to stand up. "Let me go grab my coat, too."

"You can stay here, Fuutarou," said Isanari. "You said it yourself—you got some studying to catch up on, right? Best get to it. It'll just be you and me, Raiha. Now go put on your shoes."

"Okay!" Raiha walked to the front door. "See ya later, Big Brother!"

"I can still come, It's not like I—"

The door clicked behind amidst his rambling, leaving him alone in their apartment.

"Damn it..." Fuutarou mumbled to himself, tiredly laying back on the floor. He let out a long, frustrated sigh. "What's the matter with me? Did I really have to lie to them like that? I mean, it's not like they should be poking their nose into my business anyway..."

Again, Fuutarou held the tiny phone screen above his eyes.

Foolish, naive nonsense. The more those words from the past stuck itself onto his mind, the less and less convincing it sounded.

Right now, there was only one thing that he wanted.

"Hello?"

Fuutarou laid quietly on the floor.

Was he an idiot?

Was he a complete IDIOT? How could he have sat through the entire dim drone of a ringing phone-call and not realize he had nothing to open up with? As a matter of fact, he hardly bothered to call anyone if not for a good reason. Nine total contacts populated his phone—Raiha, his father, the Nakano sisters, and Takeda and Maeda—but looking to the small summary of his recent activity, it may as well be just Raiha and his dad.

Although, calling someone for the sake of wanting to chat? He hardly was at that level with Maeda and Takeda, much less with the one he had poured his heart to the night before. What else was there to do to fill this awkward silence? Stifled sounds escaped his breath, as if years of diligent study and education somehow failed to form even the simplest words.

He heard a quiet laugh from the speaker.

"Finally called, didn't you, Fuutarou-kun? Are you doing well?"

"Ichika!" Fuutarou finally sputtered. "You... you answered."

"Of course I did. You called, didn't you? Really know how to keep a girl waiting."

"You... could have called me too, you know. You have my number."

"I was thinking about it, though, I was a bit busy this morning. Some things about work, and, well..." He heard a teasing giggle from behind the phone. "I did enjoy thinking of you laying on your back, working up the courage to finally call me."

Fuutarou held his breath.

"I take it your silence means I was pretty spot-on? Was I really?"

"No, I was just—" He sighed. "That's not important, Ichika. How about I just start over? I am doing... just fine. How about yourself?"

"Wow, hearing you try to make small talk is almost kind of weird. You feeling okay or are you —kidding! I'm kidding; just can't help myself. I can tell you were about to say something just now. But... I'm glad to hear from you, Fuutarou-kun. Wish we all could have spent more time together after the festival."

"Yeah... " Fuutarou looked down. "Sorry to have left all of a sudden. I thought you and your sisters might have wanted to spend some time with—"

"Oi, Fuu-kun!" A further voice snuck in on their conversation. "He can hear me, right?"

"Ni—Nino? Why are you—"

"Oh, forgot to mention: you're on speaker."

"You couldn't have mentioned that beforehand?!" Fuutarou shouted. "Who else is there?"

"Hello, Fuutarou —"

"GOOD MORNING, UESUGI-SAN!"

"Itsuki here. Yotsuba, you don't have to yell across like that."

Fuutarou furrowed his brow. "I should have guessed."

"Sorry, sorry!" Ichika laughed. "It's a little later in the morning, but we're all just having breakfast. Nino and Miku couldn't agree on what to have so they're both cooking."

"Well, a little warning would have been nice."

"Why? Got some stuff you're too embarrassed to say in front of everyone? Hmm?"

"Not at the table, please," Itsuki's voice came in. "I don't want to have my mealtime ruined by having to hear Uesugi-kun's voice."

Fuutarou's eyes twitched. "Why you little..."

"Oi, Fuu-kun!" Nino interrupted. "Why'd you barely come see us at the bonfire? You aren't too chicken to be around us, are you?"

"That's—"

"I saw Uesugi-san sneaking glances at us." Yotsuba interjected. "Why didn't you come hang out with us more? We wanted to see you!"

"Really? That's kind of creepy..." Itsuki said.

"Hey," Fuutarou said, "can I at least get one word in—"

"Nino. Are you done with the whisk? I need it for my eggs."

"Not yet, Miku. There's a spare in that drawer over there. Just use that. Yotsuba, can you help —"

"LEAVE IT TO ME!"

"By the way, Itsuki, have you seen that new bra I bought anywhere? I think it got mixed up with your laundry."

"Ichika! Isn't Uesugi-kun still on the line?! He could be eavesdropping."

"Oh whoops, you're right. My ba —"

"Yotsuba, you're moving too many things around. It's so noisy."

"I ALMOST GOT I —"

Fuutarou closed the call.

Honestly, what else was he expecting? Calling one of them might as well be calling all of them, especially on a day off. Hoping to speak privately was already asking for too much. He still did not know how the conversation would have gone in the first place.

If it was anything at all, hearing all the clamor and commotion was strangely relieving. The comfort of the status-quo. Those five sisters and himself. His students and their teacher.

Fuutarou wondered, was there even a need for all of this? His mind had not yet peacefully settled after everything. Everything seemed to changing too fast, and never had Fuutarou gone so long with so many questions unanswered. So many uncertainties. What it means to love someone.

Was he even mature enough for any of this?

The buzz of his phone rattling against the table snapped him back.

"Sorry about that, Fuutarou-kun," Ichika said. "Things got a bit too hectic back there."

"Well, it doesn't surprise me. Aren't you just about to start breakfast with your sisters? I'd hate to have to spoil Itsuki's insatiable appetite."

"Don't think she can hear that if that's what you were trying to do." Ichika laughed. "I went back to my room to call you back. You wanted to talk about something?"

"You really didn't have to get up and leave. Wouldn't want to make things awkward for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." Fuutarou tugged his collar. "They know you left to come speak with me, right? Privately, I mean. Wouldn't it be... you know, awkward for us to talk like this?"

"Then what do you think would make it better? Waiting a week or two for them to get over it? A month? A year? Should I make sure I'm not around my sisters if we want to talk?"

"I don't mean it like that, Ichika."

"You're too nice, Fuutarou-kun. What makes you think things would be awkward? Because right now, I think it's only you that feels that way."

Fuutarou was quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure how to put it, but I was sort of... surprised to hear the five of you having such a normal morning. Getting along like you usually do, and all. I don't know. I think it's weird that I find it surprising, does that make sense? Like..."

"You think just because you picked one of us means there'd be some tension, is that it?"

"I... no, I didn't..." Fuutarou's voice slowly lowered.

"Too blunt?"

"No, just a little embarrassed. Makes me sound a little too full of myself when you word it like that." Fuutarou chuckled. "But... you are right."

"You seriously get hung up over just about anything, don't you? And here I remembered you singing such high praise over those sisters of mine. You should already know — Nino doesn't hide anything, Miku is hardly that fragile, Yotsuba will always be your ally, and Itsuki is one of your closest friends, whether you like it or not. So come on, stop being so uptight."

"You girls..." Fuutarou shook his head, smiling. "Yeah, you're right. Guess I've been worrying over nothing."

"We're all waiting to see you again."

There was a short pause.

"Especially me, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika whispered.

Like the chill of a cold wind down his spine. Fuutarou bit his lip, but it was not enough to mask the short excitement in his breath, or the wordless silence that came after.

"You really make it easy to picture your face." Ichika laughed.

"You sound like you're having a little too much fun with this."

"You could say that. Though, I do mean it. I can tell the rest of them were a little disappointed you couldn't spend more time with them during the festival. Yotsuba and Nino were even saying stuff like 'since when did Uesugi get so popular with those in his class? Aren't we enough for him?'. Might want to watch out for them tomorrow."

Tomorrow. For some reason, the day seemed too far away in Fuutarou's mind. The following morning would signal the start to another school week, a return to the normality of a high school student's life.

Of course, something as large of an event like the Sunrise Festival would be all the talk in the upcoming days. Though he had ignored it all up until now, it was no small assumption to say that newfound romances were ripe for gossip with events like this. Word gets around far too quickly, and it would not be long before other nosy students found their way on his back.

Nakano Ichika and Uesugi Fuutarou. The most charismatic and popular of the Nakano quintuplets—especially among the boys of their grade—somehow ended up with the quiet, study-obsessed loner of their year. Oh, that was right. Maeda did say that he had a small crush on Ichika as well. That could make for an awkward conversation.

Tomorrow would be that day. Tomorrow would be the day he would see them all again, to brush the awkward rumors aside, to answer to all the annoying questions.

Tomorrow would be the day he could see Ichika again.

"Fuutarou? You still there?"

"Hey, Ichika."

"Huh?"

"You don't have any plans, do you? Let's go meet up somewhere. Today."

Questioning himself was not something Fuutarou thought he would have gotten used to by now. Think one thing, say another. He had more than enough time to think things thoroughly, yet, here he was. Four train stops away and 1250 yen in transportation fare. In the busy streets of the city's downtown district, where the sounds of thousands of different footsteps pattered against the square. Where leisure and leeway were all there was to a fulfilling afternoon. He idly stood, taking occasional glances to the nearby stores. It was well past the point of questioning himself, but a small part of him could not help but scratch his head whenever he looked to their meeting place.

To begin with, he did not even like coffee all that much.

"Sorry I'm late," Ichika said. "Did you wait long?"

"What is considered 'long'?" asked Fuutarou. "If you mean from the time we agreed to meet, I got here a little earlier than 1:00. It's almost 2:00 now."

"Well, you did ask me to come out all of a sudden, Fuutarou. " Ichika pouted. "It's not like I can just walk out wearing my loungewear and no makeup. You should feel lucky I took all that time just for you."

"It really takes that long? Sounds like a real hassle."

"Really? That's the first thing you say to me after wanting to see me so badly? The least you can do is compliment how cute I look." Ichika sighed. "Though, I should expect that from the guy who hardly pays attention to people's faces."

"You say it like it's always been easy to pay attention to five identical faces..." Fuutarou scratched the back of his head. "But uhm..."

There was a bit of truth to Ichika's last statement. He was hardly one to pay close attention to the appearance of others. Fashion trends, outfit coordination, changes in hairstyle, or anything else of the like. If it were not for that inviting tone of hers, Fuutarou would not have had the confidence to take a more discreet look. Ichika wore an off-shoulder yellow knit sweater that tilted to one side, exposing one of the thin black straps of her tank-top. She wore a thin black buckle-belt tightened over white skinny jeans, and black heeled-boots. Above her nose was the thick black ridge of her glasses—an accessory she had claimed would make her look a lot more intelligent, but they both knew it was fake.

Casual street attire, so Fuutarou would think. Her clothes looked as if they were brand new, carefully picked out for such occasions. Now that the thought had entered his mind, perhaps what he wore was too simple. A gray cardigan over his white button-up shirt, a dark-brown belt over dark pants. Was this not what he always wore? As a matter of fact, it was hardly different at all from their school's uniform, and no doubt about it, Ichika had seen him like this many times.

And now that she teased him so closely, he wondered, what was that pleasant scent in her perfume that kept his attention fixated on her this entire time? What was it that gave her lips that subtle tint and shine that only looked better with the pout of her lips?

Damn it, just how long had he been looking?

"Well... I don't know a lot about fashion and stuff, but you..." Fuutarou covered the lower half of his face with his hand. "You look... really nice today, Ichika."

Ichika grinned widely to hide the reddish flush of her cheeks. "See? Not that hard, right? Now come on, let's go find us a seat."

She turned her face away for a moment. Receiving a compliment was not anything new for Ichika. Praise from colleagues, and admiration from her peers. Even at some point during these past few months, she and her sisters have come to experience at least some praise from Fuutarou, their mentor, tutor, and friend.

But today, Fuutarou was not their mentor. It was an impromptu date, and that coy look of his belonged to the one she loved. That alone was more than enough.

The two entered the coffee shop.

It was Fuutarou's first time inside of a place like this. Right away, he noticed how much movement happened in this small store. Back and forth shuffling of seats and footsteps as people came and went. The close and distant chatter of many simultaneous voices over the slow, calming tempo of jazz.

"I'm surprised you picked to meet up at a coffee shop," said Ichika. "You weren't really one for coffee, am I remembering that right?"

"The taste is too bitter" said Fuutarou plainly. "The drinks are weird and confusing. Everything is so overpriced. Not too sure why these places are so popular. You can't study at all in this environment."

"That grouchy loner side of you is showing Fuutarou. Come on, just try it. I'll even pay for you. What do you want?"

"You really don't have to. I don't even need anything, really."

"No, it would be my pleasure.I just got paid, and plus, it'll be weird if only I got something."

"I... don't know how comfortable I am about that, actually," said Fuutarou. "You paying for me, I mean. I don't like owing people anything, and I already owe you quite a bit, don't I?"

"Of course. Once you make it big, right?" She smiled impishly. "But, having you owe me some more doesn't sound too bad either."

"Honestly, your hiring fees are way too steep. You sure you're that good of an actress?"

"Hey! You really just said that!" Ichika pulled on his sleeve, looking to him with a petty scowl. "You said something pretty bold just now. I'll have you know, I take great pride in my job as an actress. You pay for the quality."

"Are actresses like Tamako-chan really popular nowadays, or something?"

"Tamako isn't my only role, you know!" Ichika blushed, remembering their time together at the cafe where Fuutarou worked. When it came to her job, Ichika liked to keep a little bit of privacy over certain roles, and nothing embarrassed her more than the fact Fuutarou had only seen her with that persona. From that little twitch that barely made a smirk on Fuutarou's lips— if Ichika did not now any better, she would almost think Fuutarou was the one doing the teasing. "I've played a lot more roles since then, like—"

A harsh cough interrupted their bantering.

"Is the lovely couple ready to order now?" The worker at the register greeted them with a forced smile.

Fuutarou turned away, shamefully hiding the redness of his face, though all he could see was the thinning patience of the line formed behind them.

"Just find us a seat, Fuutarou." Ichika chuckled. "Nothing too bitter, right?"

After a short while, Fuutarou found himself tucked inside the seat of a window-side table. True, there was some irritable loudness that came with a buys place like this, but enough time would make the noise eventually fade into the background. It was no library, but there was some comfort in the atmosphere, especially when his time was accompanied. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Warmth of the inside air, mixed with the wakeful scent of coffee beans.

"Tired?" Ichika finally joined him, placing two drinks at the table.

"I can still pay for my own. I was the one who asked you to come out, after all. How much do I owe you?" He reached for the paper receipt, but Ichika quickly swiped it from the table.

"Nope." She grinned, crumpling the receipt in her hands. "Today is my treat, and you don't owe me a thing. Consider it a gift from this third-rate actress of yours."

"You know I was just joking about that. I've seen enough of your performances to know that you're a great actress."

She gave a complacent smile. "What is this? Flattery? How sweet of you to be a fan of mine."

"Well, I had to see for myself what kept you blowing off so many study sessions. For all the times you canceled out on us, I would be more surprised if you weren't a good actress."

"Jeez..." Ichika pouted. "You really don't know how to give a normal compliment, do you? A lot of people would love to be dating a beautiful actress. Hmph. I retract my kind generosity." She slid the two drinks closer to her end of the table.

"Go ahead. That means I can actually pay you back for mine."

"No, they're both mine now. You can go and order one for yourself."

"Seriously? You're going to finish two drinks? Who are you, Itsuki?" Fuutarou paused a moment, taking a good, long look at her face. "Wait a minute... did you two—"

"No!" Ichika said. "I am Ichika! How on earth can you mistake us at this point?"

They glared at each other from opposite sides of the table, but neither of them could keep it up. Before long, all they could do was laugh. Laugh over the pettiness of their little exchanges. Laugh for all the pleasure and joy the other's company brought. Just like how it always had been between the two of them. Fuutarou would sometimes forget it, but time spent with Ichika so easygoing, so that they were dating, he wondered, just how different would those times be?

In a similar way, Ichika hoped that this Fuutarou would stay the same. The way Fuutarou was right now, and that boy she had stumbled upon in the past. Though Fuutarou has changed so much since then, it does not change the fact that the one she fell in love with was the awkward, ill-tempered tutor in her grade. If they could keep their moments just like this, Ichika would not want anything else from him.

"Come on, just take a drink already," said Ichika. "It'll melt if we just leave it. I want to know what you think."

"Well... then, thank you." Fuutarou reached for a drink. Two plastic cups with a clear dome-shaped lid, with a swirl of syrup-drizzled cream on top. "Err... which one is mine? Are they the same?"

"Hmm...no they aren't. Let me see." Ichika slowly leaned across the table. With one hand, she carefully tucked the fringe of her hair behind her ear, then slowly placed her lips on his straw. "Mhm..." Ichika thought a moment, tracing the lingering taste on her lips with a slow lick of her tongue. "Yup. That one is yours."

Fuutarou held back a snappy remark, offering her no satisfaction as he took a nonchalant sip . It was sweet. Cold. A steady slush of blended ice, sugar, and coffee that tasted a lot more like a spoonful of ice cream than coffee.

But, all that he would really think about was the warm tip of the plastic straw clasped now in his lips, and the subtle peachy taste and smooth texture of Ichika's lip gloss that he now shared a bit of.

"No reaction?" Ichika rested her chin on her palm. "Thought that would for sure get you a little excited."

"Which is why I didn't. Can't always be giving you the satisfaction."

Ichika laughed. "You know, it's really fun being with you, Fuutarou."

"I'm having fun too, Ichika." He smiled. "It's... really weird getting used to it. Dating, I mean."

She shook her head. "No, I mean it's always been fun with you, Fuutarou. I'm happy we're dating, but even if all we could have been was just friends, the only thing that would have made me sad was if we couldn't hang out like this anymore."

"Yeah..." Fuutarou looked out to the window. "We'll be graduating soon, huh?"

Ichika nodded. "Funny that we started dating now of all times. When everything seems to be coming to an end."

"Do you think things will be alright like this? You're going to be a lot busier now that you're getting more popular as an actress. As for me..."

"You being all the way in Tokyo?"

"You already knew?"

"I had a hunch." Ichika took a sip of her frappe coffee. "What? Like we were supposed to think our study-freak of a tutor, who got top 3 in the National Mock Exam, would not get accepted into the best university in Japan? It doesn't surprise me at all. Have you told the others yet?"

"Not yet... I didn't know what was the best way to bring it up to you guys, but I felt like I had to tell you first. Thought I could use some advice."

For some time, Ichika only smiled at Fuutarou. Cheeks pressed further into her knuckles, the playful smile on her tilted face was enough for Fuutarou to recognize when he was being doted on. "What? Did I say something weird?"

"Not weird." Ichika chuckled. "I'm just remembering the day when we all were strangers. When it took us some time before we all got along. Who would have thought that Uesugi Fuutarou would be so worried about saying goodbyes?" She laughed again. "I think you just have a bad habit of over-thinking, Fuutarou. You're worried about how they would feel, right? You think they'd be sad and disappointed, but you sitting here, worrying about all of that, shows you would feel the same way too, if it were the other way around. If they'll feel sad, let them. That's what it means to have friends that care abot you."

Fuutarou leaned against in his chair. "Yeah... I suppose you're right."

"Though," Ichika continued, "there's bound to be a lot of cute girls in Tokyo, especially for a young, eager college boy who's still learning to hold himself back a bit. Just don't forget this one here, okay?" Ichika winked.

He sighed, but could not help but smile. "I could say the same for you too. An actress is bound to meet a lot of people, and other actors and actresses are bound to be good-looking people themselves. You already kissed someone on-set, didn't you?"

"I could always turn down roles that involve too much intimacy. It's a pretty common thing they talk about for partners and spouses of actors. Some people aren't too comfortable with the idea of seeing them romantically engaged, even if it's just acting, and that's pretty understandable."

"Hmm..." Fuutarou furrowed his brows. "I don't think that's it either. Turning down work when you're starting to get popular probably isn't a good idea, and I don't think it would make me feel better either way. Although, I haven't really thought about how it would make me feel. That kiss you had was with another actress, and technically, we weren't dating so I don't think it actually counts" He pondered quietly. "Hmm..."

"Oh? Would you prefer if I only kissed girls? Is that what you're into, Fuutarou?" Ichika pressed both of her knuckles to her cheeks, leaning closer with a teasing smirk. "Hmm? Hmmmmm?"

"Be serious, Ichika." He pushed her back with two fingers pressed above her brow. "A small part of me will always worry, but more than anything, as your tutor and as your... boy...friend" His voice quietened a bit, and he looked as if he suddenly became twice as cautious with every visible face around them, as if one would somehow become recognizable. "I want to see you shine. I want to see you doing what it is that you love, and I want to put all my trust in you, Ichika. So go on."

"Thanks, Fuutarou." She smiled warmly. "But if you really want to be sure, you could always try proposing to me on the spot. Who knows? I might say yes."

"Don't be ridiculous. Proposing? When we only just started dating?"

Ichika laughed. "All joking aside, I trust you too, Fuutarou. Even if you're all the way in Tokyo, I won't worry one bit. I'll always be thinking about you."

"Well for what it's worth..." Fuutarou scratched the back of his head. "I don't think you have much to worry about. I'm no charmer and I've practically used up all my luck with women in this past year, anyway."

Ichika laughed. "Nope, it's not that. I trust you completely, and you want to know why?"

"Why?"

She smirked through the thin plastic straw clasped in her lips. "Because I love you, Fuutarou."

No matter how many times she would see it, Ichika would never get tired of that look on Fuutarou's face.

Three simple words was all she would ever need.

Chapter Text

And so, these days of mellowing would soon come to its end.

The blossom of the cherry trees. Petals of white and pink meandered across air and earth. Spring. A season of both beginnings and ends, welcomes and farewells. On this month of March, the third year students of Asahiyama High School gathered with their loved ones on the meticulously decorated school grounds to conclude these adolescent days. For them, it was the season of their own graduation, and their own farewells.

It was one last chance to feel everything again. To hear the sound of your own footsteps in the long hallways. To gaze out and see the familiar sight from homeroom. To sit in the courtyard where hundreds of peers strolled aimlessly about their youthful days, knowing that one day this would all be a memory.

"One last time," Fuutarou quietly said to himself. For as long as he knew that this day would come, there was an odd feeling weighing down his chest. Like it all had come a little too soon, or rather, a part of him would come to miss this piece of his life. In these past couple of weeks and months since the Sunrise Festival, Fuutarou has had quite a bit of trouble closing this chapter of his life quietly.

Firstly, but not surprising, was the gossip. God did he hate the gossip. Even more so when it was his name that slipped from the mouths of those nosy classmates of his. He had wished those that had dismissed the rumor—on account of how ridiculous it sounded—had kept that same attitude until long after graduation, but those same meddlesome classmates were quick to crowd him with questions as those rumors became far too frequent. Yes, he did in fact confess to Nakano Ichika on the final night of the festival. No, he was not joking. Yes, it sounded even crazier that she had said 'yes' to him. Him. Uesugi Fuutarou of class 3-1.

Just the thought of it again made him grit his teeth. Of course he could not keep a straight face when asked like that! Of course he could not help but make a nasty face to those who laughed or gave him that awkward look like he was crazy or something.

But, what made things far more embarrassing than any of that was when Ichika herself faced those rumors. No matter how many times she was asked, Ichika would not hesitate to flash a smile, boasting the most confident "Why yes, we are dating!" any young person in love could say. Guess that was a talented actress for you. She had no trouble saying things like that out loud.

Now that he thought of awkward situations, there was that little squabble he had with Maeda shortly after those rumors came out. As someone who has never really had a falling out with a friend, Fuutarou only anticipated the worst when it came to confronting Maeda. It was no secret between them that Maeda has had his eye on Ichika for some time. It was enough to make him feel a little queasy in his stomach. Even if they had not been friends for too long, what kind of friend would Fuutarou be for confessing to the same girl?

To his own surprise, that conversation he feared to have had amounted to nothing more than a nominal exchange. "Huh? Why would I be upset?" Maeda had said as he, Fuutarou, and Takeda shared lunch together on the rooftop the school day after the festival. "I had a hunch already. I mean, Nakano-san had already rejected me once before. I didn't think I stood much of a chance after that anyway."

"Really?" Fuutarou asked. "When did that happen?"

"Second year, before our trip. I asked her to dance with me during the bonfire on the last day, but she said she had already promised to dance with someone. You seriously don't remember?"

"Remember what?" Fuutarou raised a brow. He remembered falling ill during the last day of their second-year trip, but he had no recollection of Ichika dancing with anybody during that bonfire. "She danced with someone?"

"She said she already promised to dance with you, duh!"

Oh, he actually had forgotten. That was not Ichika he had asked, but Miku disguised as her during the time. It was not like they had promised any sort of dance; he was only there to just help both Miku and Ichika out of a situation, but of course, there was no point bringing that up now. Besides, it was not as if Ichika would have really wanted to dance with him during that time...

Right?

"Right..." Fuutarou had responded. "But I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you were a little upset with me. You even asked me about those girls during the festival, and I didn't give you a straight answer . I don't want to make things awkward between us."

"Well... I don't know, Uesugi." Maeda leaned back. "I mean, yeah, I've admired her for a while. I thought there was something special because I can sort of see her more clearly than the other quintuplets, but other than that, I don't think I really knew anything about her. Not like you, at least. If it's anything else, I just want Nakano-san to be happy, and as your friend, I want you to be happy as well. Don't sweat the small stuff; I'm rooting for you the two of you."

"Yeah, Uesugi-kun." Takeda joined in. "We're all buddies here. Our friendship doesn't amount to something so little, you know?"

"But, Uesugi. I want you to at least tell Nakano-san that..." Maeda sniffled between his words, almost as if he would break down into a sob if he had any less willpower. "Tell her... that no matter what I... I will always... I will always support her, and that I will always be her number one fan!"

"There, there, Maeda-kun." Takeda laughed.

Fuutarou closed his eyes. There was still a lot to learn about what it meant to be friends. And here he thought he had learned everything he needed.

In this wide, empty room, Fuutarou had finally heard the sound of an opened door echoing past the rows of tables. He crossed his arms, facing forward. "Took you all long enough."

A single walkway was all that separated Fuutarou from the quintuplets. An empty school lunchroom, void of the crowded voices that normalized their everyday school life.

"There you are," Nino was the first to speak as they all entered.

"What's going on?" said Yotsuba as she peered into the empty room.

"We all got your text, Fuutarou," Ichika said with a bit of a yawn. "Why did we have to meet so early in the cafeteria? Graduation ceremony isn't for another two hours."

Fuutarou lifted a hand. "Hold your questions, please. I'll get to that. For now, can the five of you step forward, please?"

"I think we've done a lot already," Itsuki said. "You told us to come here out of nowhere, the least you can do is tell us the reason."

He sighed. "Just step forward, please? Doing something like this isn't easy for me, and having to call from across the room isn't making it any easier."

"Come on, Itsuki." Miku nudged. "Let's hear him out."

They all met at the center of the lunchroom, close enough so that they can see the look on each other's faces. Fuutarou's face especially. Through that tall posture with his arms crossed over his chest was a slightly doubtful expression, something not quite embarrassed, but not quite resolute either.

Fuutarou took a deep breath.

"Before I say anything else," Fuutarou begun, "I want to first express one thing to all of you. Ichika. Nino. Miku. Yotsuba. Itsuki. As your tutor, I am proud of each and every one of you."

They all looked taken aback. It was almost a shame to Fuutarou that he expected any nice gesture from him to be met with a mixed bag of confusion, defense, and a little bit of astonishment. Before any could question him, he continued, "you've all had your own share of struggles in the past, but you've all made it here through your own hard work. You've finally made it to graduation."

He placed a hand over to the table beside him, where five stacked frames lay beside him, along with five metal pins.

"And I don't think I've made that clear enough, so I will say it again: I am proud of each and every one of you. Your grades might not be anything special, but nobody else in this school knows about the hard work you five have shown to make it this far. That's why..." He picked up the first frame that laid beside him. There was no use stuttering over his words. Not now. "That's why I believe you five deserve a ceremony of your own. Before our official graduation ceremony. It isn't much, but... as your tutor I wanted to express just how proud I am of your accomplishments."

At first there was a bit of silence. A lull. Like his words seemed unfitting for the mouth it came out of, yet undoubtedly genuine that they did not need to hear it repeated to understand. The girls turned to each other, offering a smile to themselves and then to Fuutarou.

"What? Was that all you were worried about?" Ichika winked. "Of course we accept, Uesugi-sensei."

"If anything, we should be thanking you," Nino continued. "You've done a lot for us."

"Having our own graduation ceremony..." Miku said. "It doesn't sound bad at all. It actually sounds like a lot of fun."

"I'm in! I'm in!" Yotsuba rose her hand. "Please, continue speaking, Uesugi-sensei!"

"You didn't have to be so vague about it..." Itsuki mumbled. "What reason would we have to decline? You even went through all the trouble of setting this up."

Fuutarou stopped himself from looking a little too overjoyed. From the beginning, he was their tutor and they were his students. Now, when that piece of their relationship was minutes away from its end, a tutor must still face his pupils with equanimity. "Then..." He proudly held up the first frame. "Nakano Yotsuba, will you please step forward."

"Huh? Me?" Yotsuba pointed at herself.

"I didn't mispronounce your name, did I?" he said in an obviously sarcastic tone. "Where'd all that enthusiasm go?"

"I didn't think you'd call me first..." Yotsuba gave a nervous laugh. "And... well, I never thought I'd be called up for anything, actually."

Fuutarou shook his head. "Today is your day too, Yotsuba. Now, please step forward."

He handed Yostuba the frame he held in his hand, offering a warm smile. "Congratulations, Yotsuba."

It was a simple, yet intricately designed, piece of paper, placed neatly in a black plastic frame. A certificate. A handmade diploma. One with the words completely handwritten with the utmost care and precision. Large letters that made up her own name, bold and centered. In smaller writing was a dedication to its recipient, detailing their accomplishments.

"'Greatest Improvement'...?" Yotsuba read the words out loud. "Is this...?"

"Don't laugh," said Fuutarou to all of them. "I know awards like this is something kids do in elementary school. I got the idea from Raiha. She insisted that would be a good idea and offered to help. It might seem silly, but—"

"No!" Yotsuba loudly interrupted. Fuutarou was not able to notice it at first, but tears had quickly filled Yotsuba eyes. "I will treasure this always! Not because it's my first award I've ever got from school, but it came from you, Uesugi-san! No, Uesugi-sensei!" She looked down at the piece of paper. Over and over again, she read the lines. "I'll cherish this, always. I'll hang it up on my room... I'll make a copy for my desk... I'll put it on my resume..."

"Don't do that. It doesn't hold that kind of value."

"But still..." Yotsuba sniffled. "Thank you so much, Uesugi-sensei... I didn't think much about it last night, but now I realize that I finally made it here." She rested the frame over her face, leaning closer to it so that it may touch her nose and brow. "Mom... I finally did it..."

Fuutarou, and the rest of the quintuplets, smiled warmly.

Yotsuba stood straight, turning to face her sisters. "You know... when I was younger I made a promise. I wanted to do good in school, and get a good job. For mother... I wanted it because I saw how hard mom was struggling. But now that I'm a little older, I realized mom would have wanted us to follow our dreams more than anything. Just like how Ichika is becoming an actress. When I was little—even if it was a little cliché—I always dreamed of being... a bride."

She smiled, looking to Fuutarou's face. For a moment, she could see that troubled-looking boy in Kyoto, then back to the face of Uesugi Fuutarou. "But now, I realize—dreams aren't always set in stone. Dreams can start from anywhere, and sometimes, a new dream can take place. Something different, someplace new to find happiness. My dream now is... is to find one! Something I can accomplish all on my own. Just like how Miku found her own dream, I don't know what it will be, but I feel like now I can do it. I can set my mind to anything, and I can do it! And it's all thanks to you, Uesugi-sensei!"

"Well said." Fuutarou placed a hand over Yotsuba's head. It was a warm, benevolent touch. Praise long-sought after, and Yotsuba would savor every bit of it.

Every last—shortly-lived—bit of it, as Fuutarou gave a quick tug at Yotsuba's ribbon.

"But don't start getting too ahead of yourself, Yotsuba." Fuutarou scolded. "Don't forget that you had straight zeroes when this all started, and it took everything we had to just barely stop you from failing. You cut it close this time, but just because high school is over, doesn't mean you should slack off."

"Ow, ow!" Yotsuba placed her hands over her head. "That hurts, Uesugi-sensei! Don't pull it!"

"Is this ribbon attached to your head or something? How can this hurt?"

The lunchroom grew lively with the sound of banter and laughter. When the time had come, Yotsuba had rejoined the rest of her sisters, facing forward.

"But... that isn't a bad idea, Yotsuba." Fuutarou said. "It's actually a pretty great idea."

"What is?" Miku asked.

"Announcing your dreams for the future. Right here. Right now. Like Yotsuba said, it doesn't have to be something set in stone, but, a next step forward. Our contract says that I was to help you graduate high school, but as your mentor, it would all be a waste if I can't see a bright future ahead of all my students. That's why, when you all step forward, I want you to share your dreams."

"Eh?" Itsuki said, a little embarrassed in her tone. "Why that all of a sudden? It's a lot to ask for on the spot."

"I think it's a great idea!" Yotsuba said.

"That's because it was your idea," replied Nino. "Now he's saying we should all do it."

"Come on, it's the least we could do!" Ichika nudged. "He's still our teacher, after all. Let's honor this last request."

"Good, because you are next," Fuutarou interrupted. "Nakano Ichika, will you please step forward?"

"Ah, me?" Ichika stretched her arms, then straightened herself, before stepping forward. They met formally in front of each other, teacher and student, as Fuutarou handed her the certificate.

"Congratulations, Ichika."

"Thank you, Sensei." She looked to the paper in her hands, repeating the words. "'Academic Achievement...'"

"For scoring the highest on the final exam," Fuutarou explained. "For diligently keeping up with your studies while also prioritizing your career and supporting your sisters. As a student, and as an older sister, you've gone above and beyond. We all are watching you, knowing that you will keep shining brightly. This award belongs to no one else but you, Ichika. Good work."

Ichika smiled widely. "Yes, Uesugi-sensei! I will make you, and everyone proud!" She turned to face her sisters. "My name is Nakano Ichika. As for my dream... well, it might sound a bit like a selfish dream, but I always dreamed of one day becoming an actress of an era. I loved watching movies ever since I was little, and I'll never forget the first time I saw my favorite actress in two different films. It was like she was a completely different person, and ever since, I wanted to be like her. Not because she was rich, or that she had fans everywhere, or that you could find her face wherever you go, but... but because in an interview, she said that acting was all about learning how to lie. Learning how deep and complex human emotions can be, and what it means to have them. I want to learn it all. I want to experience and express everything—all of the different kinds of happiness, sadness, love, and anger that belongs to a beating heart."

Ichika looked to the floor, then forward, to where her sisters stood. "I thought staying in school would get in the way of my career. That I would be better off going ahead by myself. But now, standing here with all of you... it tells me for sure that I made the right choice. Thank you, Uesugi-sensei, for letting me be your student. Thank you all for letting me stand here with you all today. I won't let any of you down."

She bowed, and much like an actress's ovation, her sisters welcomed her back to the stands with a round of applause.

"We're rooting for you, Ichika!" Yotsuba shouted.

"Don't forget us little people when you make it big, alright?" Nino grinned.

"That's our number one actress, for you. Now then..." Fuutarou cleared his through. "Nakano Miku, will you please step forward."

"Right..." Miku nodded, slowly making her way forward. She traced the thin lines that separated the tiles of the lunchroom floor as it crossed her shoes. To the ends of the legs of the metal chairs that surrounded them. To the bound of her footsteps that echoed in the large room that held otherwise held silence.

"Head up, Miku." Fuutarou placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her certificate with his other. "You have no reason to keep your eyes on the floor. You've earned this,. Congratulations."

"'Scholarly...Excellence...'" Miku read.

"For being the most consistent student from beginning to end," said Fuutarou. "Ichika might have scored the highest on the final exam, but you, Miku, have demonstrated nothing but excellence from the start. The highest average grade across all assignments, tests, and quizzes. You always had it in you, and with a little bit more confidence, you wouldn't have even needed me at all. Don't keep yourself down for too long, Miku. You've earned this. I know it, and your sisters know it too."

"For me..." Miku held the frame tightly. There was a short pause before turning to face her sisters. "My name..." She paused again, this time to take a long, deep breath, then repeated. "My name is Nakano Miku. I... I want to study cooking! I know it isn't a traditional college like what most high-schoolers go to after graduating, but I've decided I want to do it. You all already know this, but I was never that good with cooking, and I still have a long way to go. My cookies aren't always cooked through, my meat is sometimes over and undercooked at the same time, and everything always falls apart, but even so, the more I struggled with it, the more I have learned to love it. I learned how to be stubborn, how to never call it quits, and what it means to have a dream you can pour all of your heart and soul into."

Miku turned to Fuutarou. "Fuutarou—no, Uesugi-sensei. You were the first person I wanted to cook for. The first person who gave me the courage to try and try again. Once upon a time, you were my dream, Uesugi-sensei, and all of your happiness with it. Now, it's only changed a little. For you, for my sisters, for dad, and for mom—I want that same happiness of cooking for those close to my heart, over and over again."

"Very good, Miku..." Fuutarou shied away a flustered look with a quick shuffle to his gaze. No good. There was no denying that look for admiration and respect from this student of his. That was just the kind of person Miku was.

"Aw look, she made Sensei blush!" Ichika laughed.

"No fair, Miku!" Nino called out. "We're supposed to just be his students today."

Miku chuckled to herself, joining back with her sisters. "Sorry. For some reason, I am feeling a little more bold today."

"Ahem. Resuming." Fuutarou called their attention. "Nakano Nino, will you please step forward?"

"Guess it's my turn." Nino walked up. It was funny; at one time, Nino could not help but envision this day. To be rid of the scolding, the bickering, the long hours wasted in study. Now that she faced him with both hands wrapped over the certificate, she could only wish they had a little more time in their ignorant youth.

"Congratulations, Nino."

"Thank you, Uesugi-sensei." She nodded. "An award for "Encouraging Leadership," huh?"

"For always being there for your sisters. All of you were in this together from the beginning, and together you all finished strong. You all might be a little rough around the edges, but it takes someone as honest and good-willed as you, Nino, to bring out the best in all of us."

"Well then, I have no choice but to accept. Now, that just leaves..." Nino held the frame behind her back as she faced her sisters. Her fingers gripped tightly over the thin plastic. Though she would not outwardly admit it, there was immeasurable pride that came with this gesture—one that not even their own official high school diploma would earn from her.

Nino crossed her arms over her chest. "Nakano Nino. Four-year university. Bachelor of Science in Business Management."

There was a short pause.

"What? Not enough for you? Okay, I'll admit that I wanted to follow Fuu-kun, err, Uesugi-sensei to wherever it was that he went, but even I have to get a little real here. My grades won't get me to the best college in Japan, hell, it won't even get me into the top 100, but we all got to start somewhere, right? Now that high school is just about over, it's given me a lot of time to think about how much I've tried to live in the past. How I wish we all could stay in the same place forever, in that house we made our own. The five—no, the six of us. But, I'm done wishing that I could live in the past. I'm done trying to keep everything the same. I'm only looking ahead now, just try and stop me!"

She turned to Fuutarou. "Our mother once said that if she weren't a teacher, she would have one day liked to have opened a cafe. Miku and I were talking, and since she has already decided to go to culinary school, there needs to be somebody around to keep things from falling apart. And that someone is going to be me. I did my homework, so I know it's not going to be easy. I'll have to get better at math, I'll learn how to manage a business, and I got to keep myself sharp to stay ahead of the competition. That means the studying won't be stopping any time soon, I suppose. Just as long as we all—eh? Fuu-kun are you... crying?"

"No... No I'm not..." Fuutarou held his sleeve against his nose. "I'm just... so moved to hear that one of you is actually going to college..."

"Be serious, Fuu-kun!" She placed her hands on her hips. "I'm one-hundred percent real here!"

"I know you are," Fuutarou said. "Sorry, I was just a little surprised. College or not, hearing all of your dreams is more than I can ask for as your mentor. We wish you the best of luck, Nino."

"This is the first time I've heard about you picking up after Mom," said Itsuki. "She always said it was 'just a little daydream' she had when she was young."

"Well..." Nino looked to Miku. "Miku and I only thought about this a few days ago."

Miku nodded. "At first, we thought about asking Dad for help starting up, but in the end, we decided it would be best for us to take out a loan. Work our way up from nothing, so that we earn every bit of our keep. I'm sure it would make Mom proud. It might sound a bit ambitious, but we might have a chance at pulling this off."

"I see..." said Itsuki.

"Sorry. We probably should have mentioned something to you guys first," said Nino. "Especially you, Itsuki. You were the one who said that if Mom ever opened a cafe, you would have wanted to work there every day for the rest of your life. You should join us, Itsuki. The three of us can definitely make this work."

"No, it's fine." Itsuki shook her head, smiling. "It's true, I have always held closely to Mom. I wanted to do everything she did, and go everwhere she went. I thought that was enough. She is gone now, but I'm sure wherever she is, she is happy that part of her dreams and wishes lives on with you two, and besides..."

Itsuki looked forward. "Mom would have wanted me to follow my own dream too, right?"

Fuutarou met eyes with her, then smiled. He beckoned her forward. "Last, but not least—Nakano Itsuki, may you please step forward?"

"Of course." Itsuki took her place in front of him, looking up to Fuutarou as any student would to their most respected instructor.

"It was here, wasn't it, Itsuki?" He placed a hand over the lunchroom table. "The place where all of our troubles began. Right here on this lunchroom table, on that particular day, I sat down with an ill-mannered girl with a one-person meal, fit for a feast."

"So you did pick this spot for this occasion, didn't you? I thought it looked peculiar." Itsuki puffed her cheeks. "And as I recall, you were the one with the poor manners, Uesugi-kun. You even called me—"

"Oi, Itsuki!" Yotsuba called from behind her. "He's Uesugi-sensei today, remember?"

"Uesugi...sen..." Itsuki paused, struggling to find the will to say the words. Her face grew red like the strands of her hair as she clicked her teeth one last time. "Ugh! Uesugi-sensei! There, you happy?"

The flat surface of the certificate's frame tapped lightly over her forehead. Fuutarou stood in front of her, one hand placed over his hip. "I'm only joking, Itsuki. You can be a bit of a problem student, I've never doubted that you were always a serious student. Congratulations, Itsuki."

Itsuki held the frame in her hands. "'Outstanding...Effort...'"

"For always giving it your all, no matter how small or trivial things may be. For never giving up, no matter what comes your way. As both students, we could hardly stay on each other's good side. As your mentor, I have nothing but praise and recognition for all of your hard work."

"I..." Itsuki took a deep breath. Through the thick reddish-orange of her hair was the fixated gleam of her eyes. "My apologies, Uesugi-sensei. I cannot accept this."

The response came almost all in unison. "Huh?"

"What do you mean, Itsuki?" Fuutarou asked.

Again, Itsuki took another breath. "My dream is to one day become a teacher. Not because Mom was a teacher and that I want to become just like her, but because Mom was a teacher that inspired me. Uesugi-sensei, you are a wonderful teacher, but to me, Mom was the most ideal teacher. Mom is gone now, and there are still so many questions I want to ask her. I want to know how to understand students, how to get them to trust me, and...

Itsuki looked down to the floor. "...and I want to know if she ever did regret her choice of becoming one. You told me that being a teacher means all kinds of things. There will be brilliant students and there will be troublesome students. There will be times where it will be exhausting, and it will hardly seem like it will all be worth it, but even knowing that, I still want to! That's what it means for me to teach . That's why..."

She turned to Fuutarou with the same determined look in her eyes. "That's why I still have a lot to learn. I am going to college, too. The way that I am now has been nothing but a stubborn, self-centered student who only knows how to keep hitting her head over and over again. I know deep down, Mom never regretted her decision, and I won't either. What I am trying to say is... is..."

She bowed her head, returning the certificate back to Fuutarou. "Uesugi-sensei. There is still a lot more that I can learn from you. Compared to being a student, I know little of what it means to be a teacher. That is why I feel that I am not yet ready to graduate as your student, and I am not yet ready to receive this from you. Please, Uesugi-sensei, continue to teach me a little longer."

Fuutarou stood quietly, looking once over the bowed head of one of his most precious pupils, then to other's gaze behind her. It was no use. Quintuplet minds had a way of thinking alike, and he could tell from that subtle shift from an astonished looks, down to their heartfelt smiles, that they all were waiting for the only possible answer.

He sighed, then placed a hand over Itsuki's head. "How can I decline such an earnest pupil? Very well." He placed his hands back on the final certificate, taking it back. "Let me warn you: it's not going to be easy, Itsuki. I'll be stricter on you than ever before. You got a problem with that?"

"None whatsoever." Itsuki smiled, still not ready to show the many shades of red that flushed her face.

"Then, with all of that said and done..." Fuutarou crossed his arms, looking to all of their faces. "Ichika. Nino. Miku. Yotsuba. Itsuki. Once again, congratulations for making it this far. Nobody will ever have had the pleasure of having students like you five. On my pride as a tutor, and from the bottom of my heart, I am proud of each and every one of you."

Fuutarou slowly bowed.

"Now come on... let's get ready for our actual ceremo—"

Five rushed pairs of footsteps clattered his way. He could only gaze up for a second before he felt five individual forces wrap tightly across his body. Arms stretched out wide, caressed in warmth and tender love, all surrounding him in one overwhelming embrace. Boisterous noise that came with the uneven melody of five identical disasters that came crashing into his life.

"Thank you, Sensei!" they all shouted at once.

"We'll miss you so much!"

"You better come back and visit often!"

"It's not going to be the same without you!"

"Good luck in Tokyo U!"

"Don't you dare forget about us!"

"Always keep in touch!"

"Make sure you tell us where you're staying so we can visit you!"

"Bring home lots of gifts from Tokyo!"

Fuutarou fought to keep himself from falling over. "You quintuplets... Tokyo won't be the same without you guys around."

A thick cluster of smothered hair and overlapping cloth. Merged scents of perfume, fresh laundry, conditioner and shampoo. Six voices, each one louder than the other. Clutter so chaotic, it would not be long before Fuutarou found himself falling back onto the floor, dragging them all down with him in a joy-filled collapse. Through that unruly mess, clear as day, were five equally genuine smiles, as they all called his name.

"Fuutarou-kun."

"Fuu-kun!"

"Fuutarou?"

"Uesugi-san!"

"Uesugi-kun."

The sleeve of his cardigan drew over his eyes. "It could have been anyone." Fuutarou said, "but I am… so glad that it was me. I am so glad that I met you all, that I became your teacher Damn it.." There was no hiding the tears that trickled down his face. The heaviness that clogged the back of his throat, weighing down each of his words that swelled like fire.

"Thank you. Thank you so much… all of you."

Chapter Text

Busy footsteps and passing trains. The myriad shuffling of normal, everyday lives came and went along the concrete walls and past the gates of the downtown train station. Life had its tendency to move too quickly, offering little room for rest before proceeding onward. Graduation was not too far behind him at all, yet, here he stood a mere days later, finalizing whatever shopping he would need before making his move all the way to Tokyo. That day was today. A day where he and his family handled the necessities for a smooth relocation, and, a day to count for one less of the fleeting days he could spend with Ichika.

Fuutarou could not help but grow anxious as the time passed. Though it was far too common of an occurrence to warrant any surprise, Fuutarou had hoped Ichika would have at least shown up on time for today of all days. After all, this would be his first time introducing her to his family. As his girlfriend.

Ichika covered a long yawn as the two of them approached the exit gates.

"You overslept again, didn't you?" Fuutarou asked, unconvinced of any other excuse.

Ichika hid her answer with a poor laugh. "Sorry. It's been a while since I've had to wake up this early. Did you and your family wait long?"

"If we're going by the last time we arranged something, then I suppose not. If anything, this is the closest you've been to being on time."

"Hey, give me a little credit here!" Ichika held up her phone. "It's 9:06. That means I'm only a little over five minutes late. Was it really worth sending me so many texts over?" She showed Fuutarou her screen. Sure enough, the little blurbs of their text conversation had eventually devolved to one-sentence bubbles towards the bottom, spaced only a short couple of minutes apart.

Fuutarou sighed, slightly shaking his head. "No, I guess it wasn't needed. Anyways, Raiha and Dad went to go get something to drink from the convenience store. They should be right outside."

"You seem a little worked up, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika drew her eyes closely beside him, marking every details of his expression. "Everything alright? Worried about something?"

There was no hiding the shift in his gaze. It told her more than enough. "I'm just not sure how things are going to go," Fuutarou said. "Our family isn't exactly the biggest—just me, Raiha, and my dad. We all know each other pretty well, so you could imagine their surprise when I told them I'd be bringing a girl with us on our shopping trip. I kind of snapped on them the other day about not worrying about relationships, yet, here I am about to introduce you. They both can be a little..."

He had not noticed until she was already really close, but Ichika's curious expression had already turned to a playful smirk. "Ah, I get it. Sounds to me like you're just a little shy and embarrassed. Think they'll wonder how this grumpy older brother and bookworm son of theirs manage to get such a cute girlfriend? Hmm?"

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"Would a big, loving kiss on the cheek make it look more convincing?" The smirk on her face only grew wider as she watched his tolerant expression quickly shift to an awkward cough. She laughed, pleased with herself. "You're just so innocent, Fuutarou-kun. I can't help myself from teasing you."

"Let's just go, alright?"

It was not long before Fuutarou and Ichika made their out of the train station. As Fuutarou had expected, both his sister and his dad were waiting patiently along the overpass bridge, just outside the station. Raiha was the first to greet them with an energetic overhead wave as they neared, but Fuutarou knew well enough of what sort of blunt curiosity was behind that beaming smile. She had been on it for weeks now. Questioning, pestering, then eventually blindly guessing which of the five Nakano sister was the one her older brother fell for.

And just as that thought had momentarily distracted him, he was brought back by the feeling of five fingers slipping their way between his, then tightly grasp so that he could not let go. Before he could say anything, Ichika had already begun pulling him along, holding tightly onto his hand.

"Sorry for the wait!" Ichika offered them a friendly wave. "I missed the earlier train by that much! Hope I didn't inconvenience you all." She smiled brightly, brushing away the loose strand of her hair past her brow. "It's a pleasure to finally meet Fuutarou-kun's family. My name is Nakano Ichika, and I'll be under Fuutarou-kun's care!"

Fuutarou snuck a quick glance sideways. He knew Ichika well, but even he was surprised at how quickly she can put together an appearance. Everything from the amicable flow of her tone and voice, to the mildness of her expressions and body gestures. Polite and friendly, with a slightly ditsy side that can safely get on anyone's good side. Was it all from her experience acting, or was it just plain charisma? The beauty of it all was that you can never be too sure.

"Well, what do you know, she really does look a lot like Itsuki-chan!" Isanari's voice was loud and powerful. A tall, muscular man with ruffled blonde hair that tucked away his lifted sunglasses. "First time I've heard of quintuplets, but you really weren't joking, Fuutarou. Oh, where are my manners? Uesugi Isanari, the father of that handful of a mess you call 'boyfriend'. A pleasure to finally meet the girl that could change his prudish heart."

"Dad!" Fuutarou exclaimed.

Ichika laughed. Thankfully, she had spoken a bit to Itsuki the day before, as well as this morning when she had come to wake her up. It would not hurt to know a little more about what Fuutarou's family was like, and who better than Itsuki. After all, Itsuki was the only one of them to have visited Fuutarou's home, met his family, sat down and ate meals, and even lived with for a short time. If it were not for that, Ichika would have never pictured Fuutarou's father to be so loud, outgoing, and cheerful. Nothing like his son, anyway.

Though, a small part of her could never shake the doubt. For those exact reasons Itsuki was a valuable source for advice, Itsuki was also the one they had come to know so well. She knew of what consists of their daily lives, what struggles they face from their financial situation, and the tightly-knit bond between such conflicting personalities. All unfamiliar to her. Who was Ichika, other than a completely different girl with the exact same face?

There was no good trying to ignore the feeling. It was a tinge of jealousy.

"You must be Fuutarou-kun's father," Ichika said. "Nice to meet you, Uesugi-san. Wow, I wouldn't have expected Fuutarou-kun's father to look so young and handsome! Hey, Fuutarou-kun, you should consider dyeing your hair blonde and start wearing some crew necks too. I think you'd look pretty good."

Fuutarou shot her a look. She should already be familiar with how he looked like with that appearance, and it was not an identity he was eager to return to. A rowdy, wild boy who was nothing but trouble. Ichika should already know, but that expectant smile of hers hinted that she would not mind seeing a bit more of that side of him.

"Ha!" Isanari laughed loudly. "I like that answer. I like that answer a lot! I've been telling him he should take advantage of his energy while he's young, but all he does is study. And please, just call me Isanari."

"Oh, but I couldn't. I wouldn't want to come off as disrespectful."

"Nonsense! You're out here shopping with us, so that practically makes you a part of the family now!"

While they conversed, Raiha had snuck beside Fuutarou. She beckoned him lower, so that she could whisper into his ear. "So, it was Ichika-san who you really liked? She seems really different from Itsuki-san and Yotsuba-san. What is she like?"

"Why are you whispering to me?" Fuutarou whispered back. "It's not like you to be shy. You've already met before."

"Well... Ichika-san seems really mature and grown-up. Plus, she's really pretty. I mean, all of them are, but—"

"Hello again, Raiha-chan." Ichika turned their way, smiling. "We've met a couple of times before. Do you remember me?"

"Yeah! You're the..." Raiha pondered a moment, folding her fingers as she enumerated through the names of the quintuplets. "...Ichika... Ichi... Ah! You're the oldest sister, right?"

"Bingo! Feel free to call me Ichika-nee-san, if you'd like. We've never talked personally, but I hope you and I will get along fine. For Fuutarou-kun."

"Mhm!" Raiha said, holding onto the hand of her older brother.

Ichika gave an unsuspecting smile. There was something distinct in the way Raiha behaved. It was true that Raiha was more familiar with some of her other sisters, especially Itsuki, who had once mentioned how exciting it was to finally have someone call her an older sister. Maybe Raiha really was hoping that the one here was Itsuki instead?

No good could come with having doubts like that. Not for building relationships or for anything else. Someone like Raiha, who already was quick to get along with all five sisters, was not far away from the coy nature that came with being a younger sibling. That distance that separated them, measured only by the older brother she barely hid behind; the slight tug to her brother's hand that she held tightly. That at least, was something familiar to Ichika.

"I see." Ichika nodded. "Fuutarou-kun, could you remind me exactly what we're shopping for today?"

"Oh, hold on..." Fuutarou took a folded piece of paper out from his back pocket. "Here. It's the scholarship details from Tokyo University we got in the mail. The scholarship program says that it covers tuition, registration, housing, transportation, and meals. Along with monthly stipends, the program also grants money for a few essential purchases too. Supplies, wares, clothing, even a new laptop. That's what we're here for today." There was an air of triumph with Fuutarou's manner, as he smiled with deep satisfaction. "It's almost like I'm dreaming again. I knew all of that studying would pay off, but it's hard to imagine things turning out this well."

"Hey, Raiha-chan." Ichika squatted down beside her. "That's good news for your brother, isn't it?"

"Yeah!" Raiha smiled. "It's really good news! I'm happy for him."

"I am too. Fuutarou-kun really has grown up quite a bit hasn't he? I'm sure as his little sister, you're very proud of him. You're going to miss him a lot when he's gone, aren't you?"

There was a short pause. It seemed almost obvious from the thought of it, but those words out loud were enough to slightly tug away at the wide smile across Raiha's face. "Of course I'll miss him..." Raiha finally said. "Big Brother has always been Big Brother. He's always been here. He's always been studying. When he leaves, it will just be me and Dad."

"Raiha...?" Fuutarou cocked his brow.

"You didn't want your brother to worry when he looked so happy, right?" Ichika asked. "When he worked so hard?"

"Yeah..." Raiha nodded.

"I'm sure Fuutarou-kun has always been around for as long as you can remember. You come home and he's always been that same big brother to you. When things suddenly begin to change with someone you love, you can't help but want things between you to stay the same, right?"

Raiha slowly nodded again.

"Raiha-chan, I love your brother." Ichika gently put her hand over Raiha's head. "I love him very, very much. I don't want to see him go either, and I'll miss him a lot when he's gone. Whether it be when he graduated high school, after he started having a girlfriend, or is going far away for college, we both want Fuutarou-kun to always be Fuutarou-kun. That's why you hold onto that feeling, and you hold onto it tight, alright? Your brother might not be friendliest guy, so he might not make a lot of friends all the way there in Tokyo, but if he knows that he has this adorable, dependable little sister waiting for him back home, how could he not want to do his best every day?"

Fuutarou could only watch quietly. That calm, gentle demeanor that came with the responsibility as the eldest of four 'younger' sisters. That endearing, caring touch that seemingly knew when one's heart was uneasy. As he looked to Raiha's wide, childish eyes, he had come to realization. Between himself and his father, Raiha had never had a motherly figure around in her life. Their mother had passed shortly after Raiha was born.

"Thank you, Ichika-san!" Raiha exclaimed, running into Ichika's arms. "No, Ichika-nee-san!"

"Fuutarou." Isanari patted his back. "You met one hell of a girl. You treat her right, got it?"

Fuutarou sighed, then approached the two of them. "Couldn't help being the big sister, huh?" He smiled.

"Sorry." Ichika chuckled. "It's become a bit of a habit."

"Come on. We got quite a day ahead of us."

For the next couple of hours, the four of them explored through the many stores and stops that marked the busy downtown district of the city. Much to Fuutarou's relief, Ichika and his family had no trouble adjusting to the other's company. Whenever a question would come her way—no matter how overbearing or embarassing— Ichika would not hesitate to give an honest answer. If Isanari ever had a lame joke or embarrassing story to tell, Raiha and Ichika would always laugh. When Raiha became fascinated with a passing ice cream store, Ichika had already opened up her purse for her, but Isanari would quickly interject, heavily insisting that he treat all of them instead. "After all, you're practically family now, Ichika-chan!" Isanari had said with a wide grin. Fuutarou knew that he had shared the thought with himself many times already, but he really did have to stop worrying over nothing.

If time would have allowed it, they all would have not minded a few more unplanned adventures throughout the corners and avenues of a leisurely city afternoon. But, as Fuutarou's constant nagging would remind them, they were here with a other purposes in mind. Their first stop was one that Fuutarou harbored the most uncertainties about, but all the better to get it out of the way.

"Are laptops supposed to be this expensive?" Fuutarou tapped the plastic keys of the thin metal device. The little squares looked far too fragile for him to touch, but he could not help himself from repeating the soft little ticks and tacks that came with every keystroke. "I don't think I've ever owned anything half as expensive as this."

"Hmm... have you taken a look at the specs?" Ichika adjusted the black rim of her fake glasses, which she had only put on to make the gesture. "You could probably find one at a better price for what you need."

"The what?"

"Hardware specs. You know, things like memory, space, display. You probably won't be needing something that fancy, so we can go ahead and keep looking. Here, this is the same one that Miku uses. It comes in two different versions, the regular and the pro."

"I have no idea what any of that means. Are those even real words? And why does there have to be so many different kinds anyway." Fuutarou squinted at the tiny letters that lined near every brand of every model of displayed devices. "Ah, forget it. This doesn't look like it's worth the trouble. Nothing wrong with sticking with notebooks and pencils."

"What are you saying, Fuutarou?!" Isanari came from behind him. "If scholarship program says it covers a new laptop, then it's basically free! Technology is just as important these days as having functional arms, and plus, it's free! Might as well use every last cent of it!"

"Sounds to me like you're concerned over other things." Fuutarou sighed. "I don't know how comfortable I'd be owning something that's worth this much. It's practically an entire week of what I made when I was being paid to tutor those girls. Not to mention the other things that much money could cover. Rent, groceries, transportation..."

"Ichika-nee-san, you really do know a lot about computers!" Raiha said.

Ichika gave a smug smile, once again adjusting her glasses. Fuutarou could tell there were not many opportunities she could do that, so might as well savor it. "Well, I guess you could say I know a thing or two," Ichika said. "Though, your dad is right, Fuutarou-kun. It would definitely be worth it to pick one up. Even just learning the basics is good enough. Look, this one here says it's part of a student discount bundle. It comes with some software installed and you can even choose the color!"

"Well..." Fuutarou took another glance at the price. Steep. There was almost no way for him to justify so much money on a single purchase for something he hardly knew how to use, but they did raise a couple of good points. He would have to learn at some point. "I guess it would make sense to get something like that then. Here, let me see if I can find someone who can—"

"Wait, hold on a second." Ichika was already down a couple of steps where the laptops were displayed. Raiha accompanied her too, as the two of them stared with fascination over their own faces projected on the screen. "This one has a better web-cam installed in it. Take a look at how high quality the display is!" She smiled innocently. "Think of all the cute online dates we could have while you're away in Tokyo, Fuutarou-kun. Just you and me."

Fuutarou coughed loudly. "We still got other stores to get to by today, you know..."

Next on their list was general merchandise to outfit his new apartment—a task Ichika thought would take a lot longer, but was surprised to find out what little Fuutarou actually needed. According to him, as long as he had a reasonably priced futon, a low table, and only the necessities, he could get by with not much else. A bit of frugalness was nothing for Ichika to be surprised over, but the extent of it was something that would catch her off guard throughout their day.

"You sure that's all you need?" Ichika asked. "Nothing beats coming home to a soft bed, or climbing under a kotatsu when it gets cold."

"I'm positive," Fuutarou said without any further thought. "We don't really bother with that kind of stuff. Besides, there isn't much space in the apartment. I've always got along just fine this way."

"Yeah, but..." Ichika scratched the back of her head. It was not just Fuutarou. A bit further ahead of them, Raiha and Isanari looked to be enjoying themselves as they went through the many different aisles and displays that made up the store. However, they seldom picked up anything—almost as if they were just window shopping. Affordable kitchenware, cheap towels, a tiny little floor lamp. Whichever color the item was cheapest, whatever looked like it would last long enough. That detail was something they all had no trouble agreeing with things.

There was a bit of guilt in the back of Ichika's mind. These were things he'd have to pay out of his own pocket, and for the last couple of months, they were not able to pay Fuutarou as their tutor. Still, Ichika would have liked to see Fuutarou live a more comfortable life, even if it was lavish by his standards.

She whispered into Fuutarou's ear. "Well, since it's your own place, and you'll be living alone, I was looking forward to... you know, stopping by? Maybe spend the night?"

Fuutarou's ears grew red. "What are you say—"

"...with the rest of my sisters, of course!" Ichika grinned, playfully poking at his cheeks before his expression could sour. "Well, you are right that the essentials should do for now. You got a lot of time to decorate it later if you decide to change my mind. Though, the rest of us are going to have to come up with a couple of housewarming gifts for you, Fuutarou-kun. They'd put you on the spot if they found out you were living so plainly."

"Do whatever it is you wish." Fuutarou sighed.

"Oi! Fuutarou, Ichika!" Isanari approached them. "Got everything you need?"

"Yeah, just about."

"Good, good. Looks like it's actually starting to get a little late, so I'll be taking Raiha home."

"Late? It shouldn't be too dark out from what I remember."

"Trains will start to get crowded sooner or later. Raiha is looking a little tired anyway, so she'd probably want to take a little nap when we get back."

"Is Raiha not feeling well? Raiha, are you—"

"She'll be fine, Fuutarou. The two of us will just head back first. You two should be fine, right?"

"Oh, but this should be it, right? We already got everything we needed, so that should be—"

"Yes we will be, Uesugi-san!" Ichika wrapped her arms around Fuutarou's, pulling it closer against her chest. "Right, Fuutarou-kun?"

It only took a little wink for Fuutarou to finally realize it. He wished his father did not have to be so nosy over these sorts of things though. It only came off as embarrassing.

Isanari laughed, then patted Fuutarou on the shoulder. "Go on and spend the rest of the day with your girlfriend, Fuutarou. I can go ahead and take all the stuff we bought back home." He turned to Ichika. "And it's been a great pleasure meeting you, Ichika-chan. Take good care of Fuutarou, alright? That boy can be a bit stubborn."

As Isanari and Raiha made their leave, Ichika and Fuutarou were soon left alone at the busiest hour of city. It was only a little later in the afternoon, but some places and shops had already begun to flicker on their evening lights. The whole time, Ichika had never left her place closely beside Fuutarou's arm. "It's gotten a little crowded, hasn't it?" Fuutarou said, turning away from a couple of older women that smiled and whispered their way.

"Yeah it has." She tightened her grip. "Was there anywhere else you needed to go?"

"Not... exactly. I don't really come here that often."

"Then, in that case, would you mind accompanying me for a bit? There's a store I like around here."

Now this was a place Fuutarou did not quite expect to step foot in. Among all other stores that lined the streets of the downtown area, nothing could really compare to the large, multi-storied buildings that towered at the heart of it all. Buildings reserved only for the most illustrious of brand names, with superfluous and bright interiors. A multitude of tops, coats, and shoes lined the walls and racks around him, and Fuutarou could only describe this experience as stepping into a different world.

In his own defense, he has never been one with a keen eye for fashion, and that went for both boys and girls of his age. Certainly nothing like this store. After a while, almost every article of clothing began to look familiar and he could not quite remember the ones he and Ichika had already gone over. He figured Ichika would grow tired of him commenting on every piece of clothing she tried on for him as just "cute", or "nice", or "looks good", but that delighted look on her face had shown that she was more than happy with just his company.

"Hey, Fuutarou-kun," said Ichika, "while we're here, how about we check out something for you too? The men's section is right over there."

"Don't think any of this stuff really suits me." Fuutarou glanced throughout the store. "I don't even see the appeal on all of this fancy, expensive stuff in the first place"

"Oh, lighten up! There's no harm in just trying some on, right? I'm sure we'll find something that looks great on you."

"I don't know..."

"For me?"

Those words were enough for Ichika to find herself seated patiently outside the men's dressing room. She had picked out one particular piece she had thought fit Fuutarou best. A slim-fitted, beige shawl collar cardigan with dark buttons, from the same brand her dad wore. "It looks great on you, Fuutarou-kun!"

"You think so?" Fuutarou looked at himself in the mirror. This type of clothing was nothing different from what he usually wore, but it did not feel half bad at all. The wool was soft. The neutral tones and subtle patterns made it fitting for just about any outfit.

"Mhm! It fits you really well. Do you like it?"

"It's nice, I suppose." He gave himself one last look in the mirror. It was more than nice; it was carefully picked out by the eyes that saw him best. "Anyways, hand me back mine so I can get changed out of this."

"Oh? You don't want it?"

"I already took a look at the price tag while I was in there. No thanks." He sighed. "I can get like three similar ones from a cheaper department store somewhere else."

"Well, lucky for you." Ichika winked, happily patting her purse. "You got a wonderful girlfriend who feels like spoiling you a bit. Here, get changed and we can ring that one up for you."

"That... isn't necessary, really." Fuutarou forced half a smile. "I mean, I appreciate the gesture but you don't have to go that far. I tried it on like you asked, but I don't really want it. Expensive brands aren't for me anyway."

Ichika scrunched a brow. "Why not? Didn't you say you liked it?"

"I did, but I can't justify owning or wearing something that costs that much. Even if it isn't my own money. I'm fine with what I have."

"You can't always have the same clothes, right? You'll need something new sooner or later. I mean, just look at your cardigan here." She rubbed her fingers along the worn wool of his old, gray cardigan. "This is the same one I've seen you wear since we met. It looks like you've had it for a while, isn't that right? The wool is starting to look pretty worn out, and some of it is even falling apart a bit here. Sure it's a brand name, but that also means it's good quality."

"If I needed a new one sooner or later, then I'd have to choose later," Fuutarou replied. "The one I have still keeps me warm and hasn't fallen apart just yet. Even if it does, I can pick up another one like it by myself. Like I said, I'm not comfortable with something that costs that much. That goes double if I made someone else buy it for me."

"'Someone else'?" Ichika appeared a little bothered by that remark. "Even if it was your own girlfriend?"

Fuutarou shook his head. "I don't mean it in a bad way. It's just a personal reason for both me and my family. We don't buy each other gifts, not even on our own birthdays. We have a ton of debt, after all." Fuutarou approached her, taking back his old cardigan. "I grew up learning what debt was really early. I've seen how much trouble it gave my dad and my mother before she died. That's why I don't like the idea of owing anybody, or owning anything so expensive."

"Fuutarou-kun..." Ichika looked at his face. "I really am sorry you had to go through with that. But I do think you're missing the point. I'm offering it to you as a gift."

"If you wanted to give me a gift, then it actually would be better to just get something from the department store. They got ones like this for way less."

"That's not it either! You can't just decide what someone gives you as a gift! That defeats the whole point of it."

"But I never asked for a gift in the first place." He retorted. "I know it's your dad's money and all, but the bottom line is that I'm not comfortable with it."

"My dad's money? Is that what you think it is?" Ichika crossed her arms, looking much more visibly annoyed. "And what's with all the 'money this, money that'? Not everything is about the price, Fuutarou-kun—"

Ichika had stood up, but neither of them could finish another word. There were others who were waiting cautiously around the changing rooms, and there were others who peered their heads over to hear what the commotion was. They both turned away, flushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry." Fuutarou sighed. "But, can we just drop it? We can talk about it later."

Ichika turned away, slowly nodding.

In silence, the two finished paying for the clothes that Ichika had picked out for herself. They exited the store, accompanying each other again at the other's side. The sun had set quite a bit from before, as lights from all the stores and fixtures illuminated the city streets. Droves of families and couples strolled beside them, laughing and giggling together. All the more contrary, as the two of them walked beside each other without saying a word.

"Hey, Ichika," Fuutarou finally said. "Sorry... about all of that. That line about it all being just your dad's money was a little uncalled for."

Ichika shook her head. "No, it's okay, Fuutarou-kun. It wasn't that bad, and besides, you weren't entirely wrong either."

"Still, I feel bad. I made it sound like you were just some spoiled brat. And that really wasn't the place to bring up my family's situation. It really brought down the mood."

Again, Ichika shook her head. "I understand, Fuutarou-kun. It's not something you're used to and I should not have been so pushy to make you bring that up. Sorry."

"I feel like I'm the one in the wrong here." Fuutarou looked away, placing his hands over the back of his neck. There were still people around them, but if they continued along naturally, then no one should pay them any mind. "I never really talked about this with anyone, and I'm not sure if this is the time or place for it, but it's about my family's debt. Figured I should tell this to you sooner or later."

Ichika turned to him, offering nothing less than her full attention.

"Back before she became sick, my mother had a lifelong dream of opening a bakery. We weren't the most well off at the time, but despite that, my mom and dad were able to find a nice little place somewhere. My dad quit his job to work with her full time, even if he couldn't bake to save his life. Still, we were doing alright, and most importantly, they were happy."

Fuutarou looked to the ground as they continued walking. "It all happened so fast. The shop wasn't even open for that long before my mom became really sick. Dad couldn't keep the shop running on his own, and we couldn't afford to hire anybody with what we were making. In just one year we had lost our customers, our home, and then, my mother. We'd have lost the shop too, but dad couldn't bear to see it go. Neither could me or Raiha. So, it's still sitting there, empty, while we continue to pay it off,."

He took a deep breath. "For most of mine, and all of Raiha's life, we've lived with debt. I've seen how it can transform people, how it can change people's lives for the worst. The debt collectors kept coming and Mom was not getting any better. I was too young to understand it at the time, but now, a part of me can't shake off the feeling that on her deathbed, my mother must have felt guilty. Guilty that we gave up everything for her, and that she must have felt like a burden the entire time." He shook his head, then looked high above to the evening sky. "I wish I could tell her now that she didn't have to worry about it."

A warm hand caressed his cheek, then trailed closer as to wipe the small tear under his eyes. "It's alright, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika kindly smiled. "I know it must have been really hard, and even harder to hold onto those feelings. Thank you for telling me. Even if I never knew her, or what she was like, I know your mother wouldn't have left with regrets. Not when she has you, your dad, and Raiha-chan with her always."

There was no need for any further words. Ichika had placed her hands over Fuutarou's, wrapping her fingers tightly around his. There was still a lot more to their evening, and they would be sure to enjoy it as much as possible. One less day for the counting days until Fuutarou would leave for Tokyo. One less day for the busy schedule of an aspiring actress.

Fifteen past eight. Almost a whole twelve hours spent going out. Half an entire day. Fuutarou sat quietly along the stone slabs that encompassed the brightly-lit fountain at the center of the plaza. At this point, many of the people that passed him were couples or groups of friends that similarly indulged in the evenings affairs. Though, Fuutarou had spent a bit of the past few moments waiting patiently for Ichika.

Twenty past eight. Just how long was Ichika taking? It was only supposed to be a quick stop the restroom, and the takoyaki he had bought to surprise her was starting to get cold. Two whole servings. They had stayed here for a while now, so dinner had completely slipped past them.

"Sorry for the wait!" Ichika gave a halfhearted laugh. "It was a little crowded."

"It's no problem." Fuutarou held out the takoyaki. "Sorry if they're a little cold. Thought we might as well have something to eat since we've been here all day."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Uesu— I mean, Fuutarou-kun!" Ichika stuffed a full piece of takoyaki right into her mouth. The look on her face was of pure delight, savoring through the soft, tender flavor that was still warm on the inside. Fuutarou's hunch was right; a tasty treat like this was fitting for a long day out.

"Are your legs tired at all?" Fuutarou asked. "We've been here all day."

"Actually, now that I think about it, my legs are a bit tired. We have been walking all day, haven't we?"

Fuutarou crooked his brow. "That's... what I said, yeah. Then, should we start heading back?"

"No, no! Not just yet." Ichika quickly beckoned him to sit back down. "We uhm... still have to finish the takoyaki, right? Here!" She lifted a piece in front of him. "Say ahh! Ahh!"

Again, Fuutaoru gave her an odd look. "Ichika, I can't eat that if you don't hold it still. You alright? Why is your hand so shaky?"

"Sorry! My hands are just a little cold. Here." She placed it down in between them. "Just go ahead and help yourself."

"Uhm... sure?" Fuutarou helped himself to a piece. It did taste good, but he was a little more concentrated on Ichika to fully enjoy the takoyaki. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Ichika stretched her arms. "Just a little tired still. You mind if we wait here a couple more minutes?"

"That's fine by me."

Thirty past eight. Strangely, the past few minutes had fallen to long, staggered silence. Their exchanges had become brief. A couple of times, Fuutarou would glance over, only to see the quick turn of Ichika's averted gaze. It was definitely strange. Her eyes were buried underneath the fringe of her bangs, always looking elsewhere.

And as the time grew longer, it became harder to ignore the passing couples. Like them, couples would stop to rest along the stone pedestals, sifting through their shopping bags and admiring their day's purchases. Others would exchange quick pecks on each other's cheeks, wrapping their fingers together. And one couple in particular had posed for a quick photo in front of the decorated fountain. Fuutarou had noticed that both he and Ichika had been within their frame, and the couple had exchanged an uncomfortable look to one another, before moving elsewhere to take their photo.

Fuutarou wondered, did the two of them look sitting here like this stand out in a bad way? Did they even look like a couple?

It must have been what he said to her earlier. No, perhaps even before that. It all happened out of nowhere, and seemingly for no good reason, but that definitely was their first argument. They had already apologized, but perhaps, there was something else that did not sit quite right with Ichika. Something to explain her sudden change in behavior.

He wanted to say something more. He wanted to make sure things were okay between them. Whatever it was that bothered her, he wanted to fix.

He wanted to do all of that, but, the first thing he did was wrap his hands over hers. His head lowered , so that he could kiss her unsuspecting cheek.

"Sorry, again." Fuutarou gave a halfhearted chuckle. "Was what I said earlier really that—"

"U-u-u-uesugi-kun! Wh-wh-what do you think you're doing?!"

Fuutarou froze. Something was definitely off. A subtle, savory taste that marked the corner of his lips. There was sauce on her cheek. Two empty trays of completely vanished takoyaki. A flushed shade of red he had never seen on Ichika's face before.

"'Uesugi-kun?'" He repeated the words. That was not what Ichika called—

"Oh my, oh my." That voice behind his ears was enough to make all the hairs on the back of his neck stand. "I never thought you'd be bold enough to be a naughty two-timer, Fuutarou-kun."

"Ichika?!" Fuutarou turned. "Then who is—"

"I told you I couldn't do this, Ichika!" She first blurted out, then stiffened her voice as to not attract too much attention. "You told me you wouldn't be gone for that long!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Ichika laughed. "You did fine, Itsuki. I really owe you one. I didn't expect Fuutarou to pull something like that though."

"Itsuki?!" Fuutarou covered his lips.

They both exchanged looks of embarrassment and disgust at each other. At some point, Itsuki could no longer mask the deep shade of red on her face. "Whatever! It was a mistake, so let's forget about it! I'm going home!"

Itsuki quickly made her way outside of view, disappearing into the crowd. From what Fuutarou could tell, it was more like she was fleeing.

"Oh man... I really do owe her a lot, don't I?" Ichika chuckled nervously. "Poor Itsuki. Hope she isn't too mad over this."

"Ichika, what's going on? Why did Itsuki—"

"Here." She pressed a paper bag in front of Fuutarou's chest. "I didn't have time to wrap it, but I'm sure you can tell what it is by the bag."

Fuutarou stood still for a moment before looking into his hands. A neat, black and dark-brown bag, with an engraved circular symbol in the center. The same logo and name as the clothing store they had went to earlier.

"I can be stubborn too, you know..." Ichika shuffled her gaze between the ground and Fuutarou. "I know you've made it clear that you didn't need it. I know you said all those things about money and your family. But before you say anything else, I want you to listen to what I've been wanting to tell you."

She lightly fixed her collar in response to the cold evening wind, then rested the hand over her chest. Her eyes locked firmly to Fuutarou's, not once daring to lose sight of that widened expression. "It doesn't have to be something cheap or expensive to be one. It's not something you do so that they can owe you back. Giving a gift is something you do from the heart. Something you do for someone you love and care about. It shows them that you think about them fondly."

There was no hiding the frustration in her voice as she then shifted to one hand on her hip, and the other pointed directly at his nose. "And damn it, Fuutarou, I am your girlfriend. Your girlfriend! There are times where I want to do nice things for you because I love you! I bought this for you because I wanted you to have it. I know we joke about it all the time, but this is not something you owe me back for. Nothing. You don't have to always wear it, but whenever you see this, I want you to know that I always am thinking about you. Even when we are apart."

Her demeanor changed again, this time with a pouty look. "I know you might think it's just being selfish, but what's wrong with being a little selfish? Isn't that what is means to have a girlfriend or boyfriend? To put up with a tiny bit of selfishness from your partner every once in a while? I even paid for it with the money I made from my last acting job." Her voice grew to a bit of a mumble. "And how come you didn't even realize my clothes were different when I came out of the bathroom? You really couldn't tell that was Itsuki?"

"Ichika." Fuutarou placed his hands over the shopping bag, then over her hands. She felt the tight grip of his hands over both, before Fuutarou slowly lifted the beige cardigan from the inside of the bag. It was warm. Soft. Carefully stitched wool juxtaposed with the old, worn sleeves of his old cardigan. A deep sigh escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. There were still a lot more things he needed to learn. If love meant kind little gestures, a lot of fond thoughts, and a little bit of selfishness, then Fuutarou knew up until now he had been naive.

He looked once into Ichika's eyes before placing a quick kiss on her lips.

"Thank you, Ichika." Fuutarou smiled warmly. "I love it. l really do love it."

Chapter Text

Life moved a lot differently in the city. Compared to the quiet, temperate living in Tokai, the cadence of everyday life in the city was like a streamlined cycle. Everything and everyone was in a constant state of motion. Crowds would turn to hordes within the busy street intersections, walking in purposeful strides along hundreds—no, thousands of others. Buildings stretched far into the skies, eclipsing sunlight. It was a place that effortlessly dwarfed their humble city by almost a hundred times over, and that simply was no exaggeration. Here, these two were nothing more than two drops in an ocean. Two identical faces among a mass of others. One look at their aimless footsteps and gawking eyes gave away the fact that they were obviously not from here.

"Yo. Miku, Yotsuba." Fuutarou approached the two, one hand raised in a tall wave. They stood in a small plaza, past the thicket of the busier streets of Tokyo. "It's been a while. You two wait long?"

"Uesugi-san!" Yotsuba hopped to her feet. Her arms were lifted high above her head, welcoming him with open arms. "It's been so long! Look at you! You've really grown up!"

"It's only been about two months, Yotsuba." Fuutarou chuckled. "How have—"

He was quickly met with two arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Brownish hair pushed against his chest before he was met with dark blue eyes looking upward to him. "We've missed you a lot, Fuutarou." Miku smiled before letting go. "You really do seem a little bit different, though. A lot more... mature, I think."

"Like a real city boy!" Yotsuba exclaimed. "Look at you—Uesugi Fuutarou. A full-fledged Tokyo University student! Kind of has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Like I said, it's only been two months." He looked to both of them. "But, I've really missed seeing you guys too. Nice to see you two are doing well. "

"You really ought to do better to stay in touch!" Yotsuba exclaimed. She held the bright screen of her phone over Fuutarou's nose. "Look, you hardly keep up with us in our group chat. You respond like, only once every few days."

"Oh, that? I had to turn that off."

"What?! Why?"

"Because it would keep going off during lecture. You girls just talk, talk, and talk, and as I recall, you were the one who kept calling me when I was in class."

"Then come visit us back home! That way, there won't be any problems!"

"You think tickets from Tokyo to Tokai are cheap? I mean, of course I do plan on visiting sometime soon, but there's still a lot I got to get used to, living in the city and all of that. I'll probably see everyone during the next big holiday."

"Then," said Miku, "do you at least know anywhere you can show us around? Maybe somewhere we all can sit and chat? After all, we have a lot of time before the premiere tonight."

"Good idea," said Fuutarou. He took a look around. "Looks like it's starting to get a little crowded around here. This area isn't too far away from my campus, so I've heard of a few places students go to. What was it that you girls liked again? Parfaits?"

After a couple of streets and turns, Fuutarou, Miku, and Yotsuba found themselves seated by the outdoor tables of a passing ice cream parlor. A bright umbrella hoisted over their heads, striking the fine balance between the growing summer heat and the cool passing breeze. Three tall glasses stuffed with ice cream, drizzle, and toppings were present on the ends of the table. Plain vanilla with no toppings for Fuutarou; matcha flavor with whip cream, chopped nuts,  and wafer chip, for Miku; and some sugar-clogged abomination of mixed colors and overloaded toppings for Yotsuba.

"You two really didn't need to go through all the trouble to come all the way to Tokyo," said Fuutarou. "I feel kind of bad. Are you sure Ebata-san doesn't mind driving you all the way out here?"

"Not at all," Miku replied. "Ebata-san's sister lives here in Tokyo. He's been saying that he wanted to pay a visit to her and his nephews, so he was more than happy to make the trip. Besides, there was no way we could miss this. I'm just lucky that my culinary school program doesn't start for another few weeks."

"If it's anyone you should feel bad for," Yotsuba added, "feel bad for Nino and Itsuki! They've been bummed out for days now, since they couldn't make it. They're just so tied up with all of their college classes. Why does Ichika's movie have to only premiere in Tokyo? That's so weird."

"Well, the director is an alumni of an Arts school here in Tokyo," Fuutarou explained. "The director is still new and making her debut, so she isn't quite large enough to be premiering in theaters all across Japan. That's why it's kept to some screenings at some of the local theaters. Apparently, Ichika's manager, Oda-san, went to the same school with her. He was her senior."

"Oh right, that. What was it that Ichika kept calling it...? Limit... something? Low limit movie? Limited time..."

"Limited Theatrical Release," Miku corrected. "It's also a thing some major studios do. They release films in only a few places to make them seem more exclusive and appealing. It's going to be the first major role where Ichika stars in. Up until now, most of her roles were kind of short, like a minor side character, or the girl who dies early in the film to introduce the monster."

"Yeah, she sure dies a lot, huh?" Yotsuba gave a nervous laugh. "I get so nervous whenever I watch those parts. I mean, who wants to watch their own sister die?! I almost panicked and called Ichika after the last time."

"It's obviously not real. Horror films nowadays are so low budget and cheaply made, you can't be convinced enough to get scared."

"That's easy for you to say, Miku! I had to sleep with the lights on for weeks after the last one. She acts in those kinds of movies way too much!"

"Ichika did mention once that she had to take up as many roles as she could get her hands on," Fuutarou said. "Said she could not afford to get too picky. Not anytime soon, at least. She couldn't even make this premiere because she's is all the way in Shiga with another shoot."

Yotsuba spoke with a spoonful of cream and candy scooped into her mouth, "Sounds like a lot of work. Hope she isn't pushing herself too hard."

"All the more reason we had to come and support her," said Miku. She scrolled through her phone, pulling up the poster to the film. It was a simple, yet tasteful design. Blown-up images and silhouettes of the main cast behind fancy, bold text and a vintage, grayscale noir-style filter with the only accented color being a deep red. "Even if it's a local film, Ichika's name is listed under 'Starring'. You can tell she's really been giving it her all. Back at home, she tries to not make it sound like a big deal, but we all know she's just trying to stay humble."

"That's what makes her so cool!" Yotsuba grinned.

Fuutarou leaned his face to his knuckles. "I'm sure Ichika is feeling really lucky to have sisters like you two supporting her."

"Don't exclude yourself, Uesugi-san!" Yotsuba pointed at him. Her face turned to a wide, cat-like grin as she pulled the spoon from her mouth. "She's also got you too! College life has got to be tough too, right? Nino and Itsuki have been stuck home studying for weeks now. They're even studying more than when you were our tutor!"

"Right." Miku nodded. "I'm sure Tokyo University is no different. You even told us you started a new part-time job near your campus, right? You must be busier than you've ever been. Ichika must be thrilled to know that you're watching over her, too, Fuutarou."

Fuutarou smiled. He helped himself to a cool taste of his simple parfait. It was a simple, yet pleasant taste. "Right," he agreed. "And the same goes for the rest of you as well. We're all close friends, after all."

Miku and Yotsuba exchanged a glance at each other, then smiled. They continued eating their parfaits, which had slowly begun to melt along the tall serving glasses, especially Yotsuba's toppling creation. After a while, Miku's eyes narrowed across the table as she cupped her chin. "By the way..." she said. She continued to look down across the table, to where Fuutarou sat with the long spoon clasped in his lips. His golden eyes formed to a puzzled look, as one brow lifted higher than the other.

"Is there something on my face or something?" he asked, rubbing the back of his hand against his lips.

"No, no... I'm just wondering..." Miku paused a moment, thinking. "Have you been dressing a lot better, Fuutarou?"

"I was thinking the same thing!" Yotsuba quickly said. "I knew something seemed off about the way Uesugi-san looked! That was it!"

"Off...?" Fuutaoru stared blankly. "What do you mean 'off'?"

"Yeah! The Uesugi-san I remember always wore the same two cardigans and pants every time. I almost didn't recognize you before, because I'm so used to you being in your uniform for the past two years. You're... you're..." Yotsuba squeezed her face, though, Fuutarou was unsure if it was from large amounts of ice cream, or if she actually was thinking that hard. She loudly snapped her fingers. "Ah! You're fashionable! That's it!"

Fuutarou gave a mixed reaction—unsure whether or not to be embarrassed or offended by that blunt remark. True, his wardrobe had gone through a bit of an upgrade from the past. He could thank the monthly stipends and his part-time job for that. Clothes that properly fit his frame did him a lot of favors, he realized. A light gray cotton polo shirt, with a camel bomber jacket he had recently taken off and draped over the chair behind him. Slim-fitted dark jeans buckled with a belt, and a new pair of black and white sneakers. "Well, I... I have been spending my days off from classes doing a bit of shopping..." he said in somewhat of a mumble. "Is it that weird if I did?"

"Of course not," said Miku. "If anything, it's a nice surprise. What you're wearing looks really good on you."

"Mhm!" Yotsuba nodded. "You actually should have done it sooner! Why the sudden interest in your appearance now, Uesugi-san?"

"You act as if I didn't care about it in the first place." He glared at her, then sighed. "But... you might laugh if I tell you this. Ichika is surrounded by a lot of good-looking actors all the time. When all of us were in high school she had a lot of admirers, so it's inevitable she'll get a lot of fans when she starts getting big. I looked at that Instagram-thing you girls are always on, and she's actually a lot more popular than I thought. It made me think I should look a bit more... presentable when I'm around her. Just so I won't embarrass her when people find out I'm the one she's dating."

Even if he had said it, he was surprised to find that they actually were laughing. "Ichika doesn't care about that kind of stuff, Fuutarou." Yotsuba giggled.

"Right," Miku said. "Looks like you still have that over-thinking problem of yours, don't you? She's happy being with you because you're you, Fuutarou."

Yotsuba leaned far across the table, pressing both her palms against her cheeks. The look in her eyes spoke endlessly of her amusement. "Is Uesugi-san actually feeling a bit jealous because of how popular Ichika is?! That's so cute! Hey, does that mean you made your own Instagram account too?! Let me follow you, let me follow you! I want to see!"

"I'm curious to see too." Miku laughed. "Fuutarou doesn't take a lot of pictures normally."

Fuutarou turned away, sighing. "So nosy all the time... fine, I'll tell you later." He helped himself to another spoonful of his parfait. These things melt quick, or maybe it was the outside heat that reminded him that summer was near. "But enough about me. What has been going on with you two back home?"

"Us?" they both asked.

"Yeah. You two, and Nino, and Itsuki, too. Miku, you mentioned earlier you were starting culinary school soon, right? I forgot to congratulate you."

"Oh, no it's really no big deal." Miku looked away. "It wasn't exactly difficult to get accepted. Not like it is getting admitted to college, anyway."

"Who says it needs to be difficult for me to congratulate you? Big deal or not, it's something worth being proud of. I'm a bit curious, actually. We got a lot of time, so why don't you tell me all about it?"

There was a brief flicker of delight on Miku's face. Her fingers were pressed together over his lips, covering what she thought to be an overly enthusiastic smile. "Well, actually..." She continued on and on about culinary school. After all, cooking had become her newfound dream. Her passion. She spoke highly of the school's state-of-the-art kitchenware and appliances. The pristine look of the kitchen countertops and refrigerators. How confident and empowered she felt donning on the white double-breasted chef's uniform. The sense of fear and intimidation that came with imagining her future cooking instructors, and whether or not they would be as harsh as Fuutarou. Her smile grew wider with every mentioned detail.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Miku covered her mouth, embarrassed. "I rambled for a bit too long, didn't I?"

"Aw, you're done already?" Yotsuba laughed. "It's the most I've heard you talk in a while. Look! Almost all of the ice cream melted."

"Ah!" Miku fumbled with her spoon. "Now look what I've done."

Fuutarou joined in, chuckling. "Sounds to me like you've got a lot to look forward to. As your old instructor, I can't help but wish the best for you."

"Mine and Nino's goal is to one day open up a cafe after all," Miku said before scooping a mouthful of melted ice cream. "Of course we got to work hard for it. Though, I don't know the first thing about working in one. I only had that part-time job at a bakery."

"A cafe, huh..." Fuutarou crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair. A cafe; a bakery. When he thought about it, the two shared a lot more in common than he had let on. A small, comfortable joint filled with a fresh, warm scent. The few cafes he had visited had also served their own assortment of goodies, like cake, sandwiches, and shortbread. The same could be said with bakeries pouring their own coffee drinks to go with their baked goods. There was no reason the two would not work together.

And from there, Fuutarou could only picture that empty cafe. The dusty tablecloths, the darkly lit wallpaper, the empty shelves behind an empty counter. That cherished bakery that his mother had always wanted—that special place that he, his father, and Raiha could never see to let go. Maybe... no, would that even work? It was not impossible, but—

"Uesugi-san?" Yotsuba waved her hand over his face. "Everything okay? You spacing out there?"

"It's nothing." Fuutarou shook his head. "Just a stray thought, since you brought up your guys' plan. Speaking of which, how has Nino been doing since she started college? Itsuki too. It's disappointing that they couldn't make it, but it looks like they're really taking their studies seriously. Good on them."

"Yup." Miku nodded. "Both Nino and Itsuki attend the same college. It's a local college, and from what I've seen, the two of them have been working real hard ever since they got in. They're always so focused, studying in their rooms or going out together to do homework at cafes."

"I feel so bad they had to stay behind!" Yotsuba said. "I didn't want to go and watch the premiere all the way in Tokyo without them, but if I wait too long to see it, then I'll get too anxious and end up looking up all the spoilers online! But there's nowhere back at home that screens it! But I can't just sit around and wait. Ugh... it's a lose-lose situation either way."

"Sounds like one of those problems is pretty avoidable," Fuutarou said. "Oh, I forgot to ask you too, Yotsuba. Was there anything new with y—"

"All done!" Yotsuba interrupted, dropping her spoon into the tall glass of her finished parfait. Swiftly, Yotsuba reached over to their nearly finished desserts, gathering the glasses in a loose cradle over her breast. "The rest of you are done too, right? Allow me to clean up!"

"Oh, uhm... sure. Thanks, Yotsuba. What was I saying again? Oh, yeah. What exactly have you been—"

"You got some ice cream on your cheek, Uesugi-san!" Yotsuba leaned over, pressing a napkin to his lips. She turned to Miku. "M-M-Miku! Don't you want to explore Tokyo more before we go to see Ichika's movie? I know I do! We won't have enough time if we all just stay here!"

"Uhm..." Miku tripped a bit over her words. As much as she was used to Yotsuba's quick and spontaneous nature, there would be times where even Miku could not keep up. "I-I suppose... but wher—"

"Great! Then it's settled!" Swiftly, Yotsuba pointed her finger over Fuutarou's nose. "Uesugi-san! You know the area around here, right? Let's do some shopping."

"A place to shop?" Fuutarou asked. "Like for what?"

"Anything! Like... like... ah! How about some gifts? For Nino, Itsuki, and Ichika! The last time we all went to Tokyo together as five was when we were little, so they're really missing out. The least we can do is bring them a souvenir."

"Gifts, huh... Actually, I think I might know a place. There's this one store a little close to my school. I've seen a few things that look like they'll make good gifts to bring back home. Should we go there?"

"Lead the way, Uesugi-san!"

"Maybe I should think of something for Raiha and Dad..." Fuutarou thought a moment, then came to a small realization. "Oh, and maybe something for Ichika too. She's been so busy with work that she couldn't even come here for her own screening. Plus, it should almost be her birthday."

"Her birthday?" Miku cocked a brow. "Ichika's?"

"Yeah, it should be sometime in early May, I'm pretty sure." He stood, picking up his jacket. "And I could use a bit of help picking something she might really like. You guys don't mind, right?"

"Good idea!" Yotsuba exclaimed.

"I see..." Miku slowly nodded. A slight smirk formed on her lips as she dryly asked the next question. "Then, do you also need some help picking out Nino's, Yotsuba's, and Itsuki's, too?"

"Hm? What about them—" The realization dawned on him as he now looked to Miku's blithe, innocent smile. That patient and satisfied look on her face that knew she had caught an amusing little slip-up, just waiting to hear what he will say next. "I uhm..."

"Hm? What's up, guys?" Yotsuba stuck her head between both of them, blissfully unaware. "Are we going?"

"Nothing." Miku chuckled, picking up her bag.

After a few hours spent indulging in the endless opportunities Tokyo's little hole-in-the-walls could offer, Fuutarou, Miku, and Yotsuba found themselves stood outside a local theater. They were a handful of minutes earlier than they had expected. Despite that, they were surprised to find out that there was a much larger turnout of people in the lobby. Many of them were about college-aged moviegoers, but that was to be expected when they were this close to Tokyo University. What was unexpected, however, was the formed line that stretched out the door and into the sidewalk.

"Online order pickup...?" Fuutarou squinted at the sign. "What does that mean...?"

Yotsuba was a little further ahead of them, talking to one of the people in the line. First, the look on her face seemed a little perplexed, then worrisome as she politely bowed to the person. "No good." Yotsuba frowned, shaking her head. "This line is only for people picking up tickets who ordered online. The rest of the screening is sold out."

"Sold out?! What do you mean sold out? We're not even that late!"

"It says here that the director has really been getting a lot of hits." Miku scrolled through the article on her phone, showing it to them. "There was a post earlier this week on a popular movie blog. It's been trending locally on social media, so that probably explains all of these people are here."

"Should we try looking for another theater?" Yotsuba proposed. "Can we make it in time?"

Fuutarou furrowed his brow. "This is the only place screening it that's near. We'd have to take a car or train to get to another theater, and the trains are busy around this time..."

"Then, should we ask Ebata-san? Wait for the next one?"

"I'd hate to bother him when he's with his family..." Miku scratched her head. "But the next screening won't be for another few hours. We wouldn't want him to stay up too late to drive us back to our hotel..."

"Then, maybe..." Yotsuba ruffled her hair, keeping a puzzled face. "Maybe we could... no, no... unless—no, that won't work, I think..."

Fuutarou clicked his teeth. "Damn it... Nobody told me about all of this online nonsense. Hold on right here, guys." He stepped toward the line.

"Uesugi-san! Where are you going?"

"Excuse me." He tapped the shoulder of a random stranger. "Would you be okay selling me your ticket?"

"Huh?"

"Your ticket. It's really important to us that we see this movie. A friend of ours is in it."

"Err..." The stranger away from Fuutarou with a discomforted shift in his eyes. "Sorry, but that's probably not—"

"How much would you like for it? If you have three tickets then I can pay you as much as you would—"

"I..."

"Then how about you?" Fuutarou turned to a curious observer near them in the line. "How much would you like for your—"

He was interrupted by Yotsuba quickly grabbing onto his arm. "Pardon us," she said. "Pay no attention to him. Enjoy the movie!"

"Who was that?" The stranger's friend said as Fuutarou and Yotsuba left. "You know them?"

"No..." He cupped his chin, squinting past the point where Fuutarou and Yotsuba dodged into the crowd. He then turned to the nearby movie poster, looking to the faces of the featured actors and actresses, stopping at Ichika's picture. "I just thought that one girl looked a little... familiar? Can't put my finger on it."

Despite his protests, Yotsuba was finally able to drag the overly ambitious boy back to the outside of the theater, a little further away from the line. "Is that really your plan, Uesugi-san? To just harass strangers for their tickets?"

"What do you mean? Harass? I could've bought it from him if you just let me talk to him."

"Yotsuba's right," Miku said. "I'm pretty sure bothering people in line is going to get us kicked out. Calm down a bit first, okay?"

Fuutarou tapped his forehead against his knuckles. He took a deep breath. "Sorry. I feel like this is all my fault. Because of me, we won't be able to see the movie."

"Don't feel bad." Yotsuba lightly patted him on the shoulder. "It's not the end of the world if we don't get to see it. We still got to spend the whole day with you, Uesugi-san."

"And besides," added Miku, "it's bound to become available somewhere, sometime. Ichika would understand, and maybe, she could try and get her hands on a copy for us."

"Still..." Fuutarou sighed. "I just—"

"Fear not, my friends!" A voice had snuck into their conversation, carrying his tone in a jovial and somewhat posh manner. "Why so glum tonight? Aren't we all here to enjoy ourselves?"

"Ah!" Yotsuba pointed. "You!"

"You're..." Miku cocked her head. "Oh, Takeda-san, wasn't it?"

"Correct, correct! It's good to see you both doing well, Nakano-san and Nakano-san." Takeda smiled in such a bright way, some would think there was always a tiny spotlight following him around. "Sorry, we came a little late. The parking lot was a lot more full than we thought."

"Yo." A second, boy with an unbuttoned longsleeve and long, slicked-back brown hair trailed behind Takeda. He lifted his hands from his pockets to offer a wave. "It's been a while."

"Oh, right." Fuutarou cleared his throat. "Miku, Yotsuba. You remember Takeda and Maeda from high school, right? I mentioned earlier that they would be joining us tonight."

"Eh? Maeda-san, too?" Yotsuba said. "You go to Tokyo U with them too?!"

Maeda squinted his brow. "The way you said that makes it sound like you heard something really unbelievable just now." He sighed. "And no, of course I don't. I'm not huge nerds like these guys."

"Then... you came all the from Tokai? Really?"

"Of course!" Takeda butted in. "He is Ichika's number one fan, after al—ow!"

"Shut up, man." Maeda leered at him. He looked away, hiding the red flush on his face. "And yeah, so what? I couldn't miss a premiere. Not if it's a film Nakano-san is starring in."

Fuutarou sighed heavily. "Well, sorry to drop it to you guys, but I messed up. I couldn't get the three of us any tickets, so it will just have to be—"

He felt the light fan of paper flutter over his mouth. "I said 'fear not', didn't I?" Takeda winked. He held up his phone, showing a text conversation. "You never replied to me when I asked you what seats you bought. I wanted all of us to sit together, so I went ahead and ordered five tickets this morning. For all of us! I had a hunch there might be a chance—since you don't keep up with trends—that you probably were thinking of just showing up and buying it here. Looks like I was correct!"

"That's..." Fuutarou's eyes widened. "That's... I don't know what to say, Takeda. Wow, you really—"

"You're a lifesaver, Takeda-san!" Yotsuba dashed over to him, clasping her hand over the tickets. "Is it really okay that you're just giving it to us?"

"That's right!" Takeda said.

"At least let us pay you back," Miku said, reaching into her purse. "It's the least we could—"

"That won't be necessary, Yotsuba-san."

"I... I'm Miku, actuall—"

"Think nothing of it! There is no price that you can put on a fun-filled night spent with good old friends." He winked again, and Fuutarou could swear that imaginary spotlight that followed him grew a bit brighter. "Come now, the show will be starting soon! Let's make sure we can get into our seats before it starts crowding. Uesugi-kun, Maeda-kun!"

Before Fuutarou could get another word in, Takeda had already made it for the door, holding it open so that Miku and Yotsuba could follow through. The bright, optimistic smile on Takeda's face could not stop glowing, as he starred across the walkway, waiting for the two remainders to walk over.

Maeda sighed. "This is why I can't understand wealthy people. He's got all the carefree attitude in the world." He lightly chuckled. "Come on, Uesugi. We gotta see that girlfriend of yours deliver another great performance, right?"

Fuutarou smiled. Ahead of him were four faces that looked back to him, eagerly waiting for him to step after them. "Well, he's not wrong. You really can't beat good company."

Now, Fuutarou was never one to understand the art of motion pictures. At some point in his life, the thought of burning over a thousand yen for an hour or two of entertainment was something he could never understand. Truth be told, it was still something he did not quite get. Before he had met the quintuplets, Fuutarou had very little memories of any types of visits to the cinemas, save for maybe one or two occasions when his mother and father had taken him. He was young back then, and to him, any kid would be impressed with loud noise, cheerful music, and colorful animated characters and animals dancing on the screen.

As for now, well, Fuutarou could at least say that he had seen a few more films. Not a lot, but enough to form a reasonable opinion—and he still could not get it. After having befriended the quintuplets and going along with them to Ichika's screenings, Fuutarou had mixed feelings with the overall experiences. To put it bluntly, the movies and shows were mediocre at best. The storylines were bland, the characters unreasonable, and the atmosphere and elements were to be expected of low-budget films. Granted, many of Ichika's earliest roles came from indie films. That was one reason he held off any strong opinions—someone of his unrefined taste would hardly know what could be considered good. Was it just bias towards a friend—now lover—that kept his eyes fixated on the screen, or was it something else?

If it was one naive, uncultured opinion Fuutarou could make, it was that the pink-haired woman he watched on that large screen was nothing short of talented. Captivating. Phenomenal. Her words danced off her mouth, pronouncing tones and emotions as if it were her true self. Raw feelings—confusion, hope, frustration, remorse, and relief—were transcribed through every corner of her complexion, drawing sympathy and speculation from those who sat beguiled by her charm. The story that she breathed to life from beyond that screen felt almost personal—like she desperately pleaded to you to believe her as everything narrowed to the final climax. For the next hour and fifty-two minutes, she was not Nakano Ichika, but Charlotte Lilia, freelance nature photographer, college of arts student, and childhood friend of the widowed Natalia Rustfield, who with all of their closest friends, suddenly became suspects of the mysterious death of Natalia's husband that was believed to have been a suicide over four years ago.

What Fuutarou saw, through every unprecedented twist and intense action, was an inevitable star that would shine brightly. One that he could never keep his eyes off of, one that felt so warm and close to his heart.

And all he could think about was how much he wanted to see her again.

"I can't believe it, I can't believe it!" Yotsuba muttered, frustrated. They now stood outside the theater, collecting their thoughts over the finale. "How could Ichika lie to me again?!"

"Lie?" Fuutarou tugged the collar of his shirt. He did not realize it, but the climax during the movie had left him far more excited than he had thought. So much that the dark theater room had grown stuffy. "Lie about what?"

"Her character went and died again! After I kept telling her to warn me if she did, so I could be ready for it!"

"That would have spoiled the whole movie," said Miku.

"Ugh... I know, I know, but... but—"

"Hold on." Miku checked her phone, then looked across the street. "It's Ebata-san. He's already here to take us back to the hotel."

"Already? He sure is fast. The movie just ended!"

"I'd hate to keep him waiting..." Miku looked to Fuutarou. "Guess that means it's time we headed off, huh?"

Fuutarou nodded. "Go on, you two. You leave first thing in the morning, right? It's a long drive back to Tokai."

"And we gotta get going back to my place!" Takeda loudly patted Maeda, who almost looked as if he were slowly tearing up. "Looks like Maeda-kun was a little too starstruck by your sister's performance. I've never seen him so focused on anything before."

"It was... it was..." Maeda sniffled. "It was so good... How can Ichika be that talented of an actress?"

Takeda laughed. "Now, now... well, then, it was a pleasure seeing you all! Take care now." He winked, and soon enough, they all had said their goodbyes. The three boys walked together down the street to the nearby station and Miku and Yotsuba to the held-open door of their chauffeured vehicle.

Through their passenger-side window, Miku and Yotsuba watched as the trailing light of Tokyo passed one after the other. As they had already come to know, life moved a lot more different in the big city. Fatigue from such a joyous day almost seemed like nothing to the lively masses of Tokyo, but they themselves could only breath a tired sigh as they fell back into their comfy seats.

"It shouldn't be too long until we get to the hotel," Ebata said. "Are you both comfortable?"

"We're fine. Thank you, Ebata-san." Yotsuba widely stretched her arms. "Man, Ichika really was something, wasn't she?"

Miku nodded. "I was on the edge of my seat the entire movie. She really has gotten a lot better as an actress. We rarely get to see her character have so much screentime, but she really nailed it the whole time."

Yotsuba grinned. "Right? Of course she'd do great! She's our Ichika-nee-san after all, and we know how much she's been working her butt off even before we graduated high school." She returned her eyes to the city panning further from their window. Her large, rounded eyes slowly dipped to a soft, forlorn gaze. With the bright lights now further away, there was little left from the panning view of the window, other than her own dim reflection off the glass. It was features she knew all too well—these eyes, this nose, the same lips that smiled and frowned the same way. "She really has been working hard, huh?"

A short moment of silence fell between them before Miku spoke, "Say, Yotsuba..." Miku looked her way. "Sorry if I'm wrong about this, but have you been feeling alright today? Has something been bothering you?"

Yotsuba gave a blank stare, almost taken aback. "Eh? What do you mean? Bothering me?"

"I don't know... just a feeling. When we were out with Fuutaoru today, you seemed a bit... uneasy about something. Like you were nervous about something"

"Whaaat?" She gave a partial laugh. "Me, nervous about something? Like what? What could I possibly be nervous about? It was just us and Uesugi-san today."

"But am I wrong?"

Yotsuba hesitated. "Ha... am I just that bad at hiding things that I'm starting to not notice it myself?"

"It's weird to say, considering we're quintuplets but... I'm still technically your older sister too." Miku lightly chuckled. "I may not be as perceptive as Ichika, or as straightforward as Nino, but I can get a feeling if something is bothering you. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, of course, but I'm here if you do."

She looked again to the window. Not like she had expected anything different since the last time, but it was still that same face. The same as Ichika, Nino, Miku, and Itsuki. This one was hers—she knew that, and yet, why did this reflection seem so different from the others? Was it just her that was different...

"...or was it just me that stayed the same?"

"Hm?"

Yotsuba sighed quietly. "Seeing you pour your heart out over cooking, Miku. Seeing Uesugi-san, Itsuki, and Nino working so hard in school. Seeing Ichika look so cool on that big screen... everyone is really giving it their all." She looked to her fingers, which now rested on her lap. This bothersome feeling inside worked its way to her fingers as she fidgeted them over each other. "I'm so happy for all of you, and I'm proud too. Really, I am. But sometimes... I just get a little worried. You're all trying your best out there, and here I am, without a clue on what I'm supposed to do. When I faced Uesugi-san, a small part of me thought that maybe, he would be the same as the day we saw him off to Tokyo. But he just looked so... grown up now, and I thought... I thought that I couldn't face him as his former student. After all this time since we graduated, and I have nothing for him to be proud of, even after all those things I said on our graduation day..."

"Yotsuba..."

"Ah, there I go again!" Yotsuba's voice quickly changed to blissful naivety "I'm just saying things without thinking again! Now I've gone ahead and just ruined the mood, huh? Just forget I said anything."

"I don't think any of that is a bad thing at all." Miku placed a hand on Yotsuba's shoulder. "You're just a little lost right now, and that's okay. I never once thought I'd go to culinary school either, and now, I can hardly wait until the first day. The day will come when you find what you truly want to do with yourself, I'm sure of it."

"But what if it never comes? What if I never amount to anything and just stay lost forever? "I know Uesugi-san was strict on us, but he was right, too. It took a lot to keep me from failing out of high school, and in the end, I barely made it. I just don't know if I'm even ready for all of this..."

"Worrying about that will do you no good. You're plenty of years too early to start worrying about things like 'never' and 'forever.'  While we're still young, I think it's okay to fail a couple of times, wait a little bit, and try again until we find our own legs to stand on. That's something I think we all have to learn at some point. And you're not alone. I'm sure Ichika, Nino, Itsuki, and even Fuutarou stop at some point and worry about the same things."

"How can you be so sure? It's hard to think that when everyone looks so confident and determined all the time. How can you be so sure that everyone goes through the same thing?"

"I can't," Miku said with a simple smile on her face. "I don't know the first thing. But, not knowing things has never stopped the five of us before. We all may be lost, clueless idiots in this world trying to find our place in it, but we're never alone. We lift each other up when we need it, and catch each other when we fall. So, don't be afraid to trip and make a few mistakes, Yotsuba. I know I'm not anymore."

There was a long pause on Yotsuba's face.

"Pardon me if I am eavesdropping, girls," Ebata politely said, as he quickly glanced to his rear-view mirror. "That was really well said, Miku-san. If I may, could this old, ordinary driver offer his own advice as well?"

"Oh, Ebata-san." Miku straightened up, a little embarrassed over what she had previously said. "Sorry, I went off a little bit there."

"No, no. Not at all. In fact, it was inspiring to me. It humbles me to know that young people these days—even after everything around us has changed so much since then—still go through the same things. And it lifts my heart to see how much you all have grown."

"You went through the same thing too, Ebata-san?"

"Of course. You have no reason to hear the ramblings of an old man like me, but, if I may...?"

"Please do." Yotsuba nodded.

Ebata looked to the long road. "I've served your father as his secretary for over ten years now. Before that, I chauffeured another man and his family for three years, butlered another for five, and taught grade school for twenty-five. Now, do you think that when I was young, I had imagined myself as a secretary, or a chauffeur, all the way to my current age? If you told me that a couple of decades ago, truthfully, I might have felt a little discouraged. It's normal to be ambitious when you're young that you sometimes forget how fulfilling the simple things are in life. I took up many types of jobs, married my lovely wife, settled somewhere near where I grew up in, took more jobs, and before I knew it the time had already gone. The whole time, I never thought what I was doing wasn't good enough. I thought I had to do something grand to impress others, and especially, myself."

He smiled as he carefully drove. "But, life was not made to be a trial or a challenge. We can go about it our own way, at our own pace, and where we end up might be somewhere completely different from where we started. We will leave this world as quickly as we came in, and the time we spend is far too short to waste worrying what we do in the middle." He heartily laughed to himself. "But, that is just the ramblings of an old man who's already had his long stay. If it's one thing I can tell you girls is that at some point in this long life I've had, I learned to stop doubting myself. When you do, you'll look back on these days and realize you had nothing to worry about at all."

"Exactly," said Miku. "Everything sorts itself out, one way or the other. Don't spend too long stressing over it."

"Yeah, I suppose you're both right..." Yotsuba rested against the window. The city lights, the evening sky, the dim reflection of her face—all drew together as she finally rested her eyes. A calm smile formed on her face. "Sorry to be a bother, everyone, but please watch over me for a little longer, okay..?"

Chapter Text

One spoonful of sugar and a light pour of condensed milk over hot coffee. Ripples of light brown formed at the nucleus of the darkened surface, then broken, then mixed to a beige swirl as her spoon twirled against the ceramic rim. Not too quick, as to savor the delicate aroma. Small little details made for the quintessential part of a morning routine. On occasions when work seemed almost endless, Ichika could always count on the rich taste of coffee to make it through the day's end. Though, she had grown accustomed to the taste and scent that Ichika would even enjoy it on her much-needed days off from work. At times, she would enjoy it with a little something extra in the form of whipped cream, or cocoa powder. Warmth took her over. Wrapped in a comfortable shawl, she leaned against the soft cushions of their living room couch, letting out a low sigh.

"You're sleeping in a lot more than usual. You aren't pushing yourself too hard, are you, Ichika?" Miku took a seat beside her, carrying her own warm cup of matcha tea.

"Me?" Ichika stretched her arms. "No, I wouldn't say so. Work is just work, after all. Just glad to finally be back home."

"It feels like for the past few weeks you've been in and out of the place. You know, it gets really quiet when you're away. That last trip to Shiga was probably your longest one yet."

"You don't have to remind me..." Ichika groaned. "The whole thing was a scheduling nightmare from the start. The director is lucky we finished on time." She leaned her head back, letting her pink hair carelessly brush past her ears. "Things were just so busy. I hardly had the time to look around the city, or talk to all of you and Fuutarou as much. I thought I'd never be able to relax again after all of that." She glanced to the dining table behind them. "Though, speaking of not relaxing, what are those two up to over there? Have they been like that all morning?"

Miku nodded. "They've been sitting there refreshing the page practically every few minutes. They really must be getting impatient."

Seated at the dining room table were Itsuki and Nino, both at either end of a laptop screen. Brows furrowed and knuckles pressed against their cheeks, the two girls muttered a sound of annoyance after another click of the keyboard and mouse.

"That's easy for you to say, Miku!" Nino called from across the room. "You were actually there for Ichika's movie premiere, three weeks ago! If only Itsuki and I weren't too busy with school. We never miss any of Ichika's movies..."

"Refreshing the page...? Oh, did the review embargo lift today?" Ichika took another sip of her coffee. "I almost forgot."

"Yes it did, and how can you be so nonchalant about it, Ichika?" answered Itsuki, clicking another time on the page. "Darn. Still nothing... What's taking them so long?"

"I learned to not really worry so much about those kinds of things. I mean, it's not like I could get offended if a movie I was in didn't do so well with critics. I'm not the director or anything, and plenty of the ones I've been in had had some pretty lackluster reviews. But you know, actresses gotta start off somewhere."

"But this was your biggest role yet! The most screen time!" Itsuki retorted. "None of your other small roles can compare to it. You aren't at least a little worried?"

"She's just being all humble and stuff again." Nino crossed her arms over her chest. "Yotsuba just couldn't keep her mouth shut about it for almost an entire week. She kept going on and on about the movie, and even though I explicitly warned her, she just had to let it slip that—"

"Stop, stop, stop!' Itsuki covered her ears. "No spoilers! I don't want to hear it!"

"If I have to get spoiled, then so do you! It's not fair that you're the only one who doesn't know!"

"How is that fair?! It's not my fault that—"

"Hold on a second, hold on a second!" Eyes widened, Nino scooted herself closer to the screen. The reflection of the bold-lettered titles could almost be made from the look in her eyes. "Is that... there it is! It just got posted!"

"Really? Where?" Itsuki scooted in. Today marked the final day of the review embargo for The Vermilion Riddle, the feature-length film that Ichika had previously starred in and had premiered exclusively in the Tokyo region. Through word-of-mouth and social media, the film had garnered much attention from all sorts of moviegoers, especially among young adults. Popular bloggers, movie reviewer video channels, shared posts from their peers, and eventually, the eye of professional movie critics all across Japan. The Vermilion Riddle would eventually earn its place across several more theaters—local in the Tokyo and some of the neighboring prefectures—as well as extended screenings to accommodate its rising popularity.

For weeks now, Itsuki and Nino had eagerly anticipated the embargo to be lifted and the reviews to be publicly released. The unprecedented popularity had made the small-studio film a lot more apprehensive in giving copies of the movie to its actors. Not while it was still airing in theaters, anyway. With no other options, Nino and Itsuki could only wait for the curated reviews of reputable sources. Anything to satisfy that impatient urge for something out of their reach, as well as to give them a little perspective of what to expect when they could finally watch the film in a few more weeks.

"What does it say?"

"Hold on, I'm still reading." Nino bit her nail. Her eyes quickly moved left to right as she scrolled down the page. "Wow... there are so many good reviews here. Look here—8.2 out of 10... 8.4 out of 10... 4 out of 5... 89 out of 100."

"Masaki Yusa..." Itsuki quoted from one of the articles. She adjusted the frame of her glasses as her eyes trailed further down the article. "...without a doubt, one of the most promising young directors to have come out in the recent decade... 'The Vermilion Riddle' came as a huge surprise to moviegoers all across the Tokyo region, as the film aired in theaters on... Masaki Yusa masterfully portrays an engaging and thrilling story. Her clever use of distinct camera angles, sound score, and most importantly, the script, are a cut above others in its genre in recent years." Itsuki cleared her throat. "A lot of these reviews look like they're praising the director of the movie. Is she really that impressive of a newcomer?"

"Apparently so," answered Miku. "The premiere at Tokyo was surprisingly crowded. She's been getting a bit of buzz around social media, video channels, and film blogs. Fuutarou did mention that she was a junior to Ichika's manager."

"Really? She's that amazing? It says here the director has only—"

"Blah, blah, blah." Nino muttered. "Who cares about what they say about some director? What are they saying about Ichika? That's what's really important! Here, let me see." Pages and tabs quickly opened, then perused, and repeatedly closed with every click under Nino's finger. "Why does everyone talk about the director and the plot?"

"Isn't that kind of what people go to movies for...?" Itsuki said.

"Well, yeah... but like, there's gotta be more to it. There should at least be some people out there talking about how amazing Ichika's performance was."

"Nino, you didn't even see the movie," Miku said. "How do you know great she was?

"Rub it in more, why don't you, Miku?"

"You guys..." Ichika snuggled further into her warm blanket. It was difficult to determine whether the look on her face was the pure satisfaction of a leisurely morning, or a poor attempt to hide a smug smile. "Stop it, you'll make your big sis blush. Besides, you won't really find anything like that there. It's still a film from a small studio. The articles don't go nearly as professional and in-depth as nationwide films. You won't find any—"

"I found one!" Nino blurted out.

"Where?!" Both Itsuki and Miku quickly placed themselves shoulder-to-shoulder beside Nino. Three pairs of eyes fixated themselves to the screen, accompanied with banter over where each of their individual attention was at , and who should control the mouse.

"You too Miku?" Ichika groaned, pressing her palm to her forehead. "You guys... is anyone even listening to me?"

"This review over here!" Nino pressed her finger onto the screen. "There's a longer one here that talks about the actor performances. Scroll down a bit. Right there, right there!"

Hovering over her shoulder, Miku leaned closer so that she could observe the screen. "It's an A- score," she said. "From an independent film reviewer. Almost a million subscribers, too. What kind of stuff are they saying?"

"...what really surprised me—that I feel not a lot of reviewers talk about—was the performance of some of the young and upcoming actors and actresses of The Vermilion Riddle..." Nino quoted the article. "It seems almost fitting that an upcoming director brings in some fresh, new talent with them to break into the scene. Despite being a cast of mostly university-aged actresses—the youngest of them apparently just graduating high school—I was pleasantly surprised by their performances. Them being—Morioka Misako as Natalia Rustfield, Yuuma Misao as Vincent Chambers, Nakano Ichika as Charlotte Lilia..."

"They said her name!" Itsuki did her best to muffle a squeal. "Do they say anything else?"

"Hold on, hold on, I'm still reading..." Nino skipped a couple of lines describing the other actors and actresses. "...And I could not talk about the cast's performance without mentioning the captivating role of Charlotte Lilia, played by Nakano Ichika. From her introduction and across the entire runtime of the film, Charlotte's presence added an immeasurable layer of depth to an already beautifully-crafted storyline. Her delivery was on such a professional level, I found myself deeply engaged with this... fictional character, that by the end of the film I was left with nothing but raw emotion. It was so... enigmatic, so mystifying that I cannot express it in words without spoiling the entire plotline. And this is no small feat. Charlotte's role in the story can easily fall apart if the wrong person were cast, and in today's independent films, could prove to be quite the task for a newbie to handle. One of the greatest pleasures in partaking in indie films is finding some diamonds in the rough every now and then. So, it looks like I'll have to keep an eye out for more of Nakano Ichika's performances in the future. Because I think I might have found another one of those diamonds."

Nino cleared her throat. "That's what it says..."

"No way..." Itsuki read some of the lines over again, then looked past the screen. "Ichika, did you hear that?! Did you hear what they're saying?!"

"Oh... well, that's surprising." Ichika took another sip of her coffee. "I wasn't expecting something like that. That's... really flattering to hear. Oh, by the way, was there any leftovers from breakfast? I haven't eaten yet and I'm starving."

"How can you be thinking about breakfast at a time like this?! Come on, get more excited! This is really big, isn't it? Forget the leftovers; we should celebrate with something, we should—"

Ichika laughed. "It's not a big deal, really. I'm sure they've written some good things about my colleagues in there too. I was just giving it my best effort. I'm happy as long as it means I get to land a few more roles in the future."

"Humble until the very end, huh?" Nino said, mixing something between a smirk and sneer. "More like stubborn if you ask me. You've earned the right to gloat at least a little bit, Ichika. We won't judge you if you do."

"Now, now. I'm not saying I'm not flattered. Really, I am. But I shouldn't let myself get too worked up over a couple of good reviews. It would make taking criticism and harsh reviews a little harder, you know? Like, I can think of a few things I could still improve on, so I'd like to keep myself a little more grounded at first. It's still only good 'for a newbie' after all."

"I mean... I suppose..."

Miku continued to look at the screen while they conversed beside her. She had her hands on the mouse, clicking through a couple of web pages. "What are you doing, Miku?" Itsuki asked.

"Oh, don't look at the screen right now ," warned Miku. "I found a couple of discussion topics somewhere talking about the film. There might be spoilers for you guys. I got curious to hear what some people are saying online."

"They have some of those?"

"Yeah. Quite a bit of them. Here, I found a couple that don't look like spoilers. Take a look at some of these." Miku directed them to the comments section.

「  Luuna_1  」 : "Charlotte's actress was great! Like, wow. I was so into her character the entire time, and the actress was gorgeous. Hard to remember that she's still a newbie."

「  Gorillalala  」 :  replying to Luuna_1  "Finally, someone mentions the casting! I watched it a second time with a couple of friends who didn't see it the first, and there were so many things I didn't notice the first time. Charlotte's actress especially! Are there are more films from her?"

「  TheViciousHopper  」 :  replying to Gorillalala  " Almost all the actors are new and never heard of in the film. Her actor, Nakano Ichika, doesn't have a wiki page anywhere, but there's a database site [here] that has some of the roles she's in. Lots of small films I've never heard of. Did she really just graduate high school?"

「  Greyy_X  」 :  replying to TheViciousHopper  "Oh god I feel so old now LOL"

「  RainFilmz  」 : "Is it just me or was Charlotte's actress [censored] HOT?! I want to marry her!"

「  JeLL012345  」 :  "Plot-line and production were pretty great. But honestly, I found some of the actors to be pretty lackluster and amateur in certain scenes that really mattered. My friends thought so too. Only one who really delivered was Charlotte's actress. Props to her."

「  myUsername77  」 : "Something about Charlotte's actress really does something to me, man. Don't get me wrong, everything about the movie was fantastic! I just can't help but think... wow. She really stole the show."

「  silverDRUID  」 : "I'm kinda confused. It was pretty good for an indie film, but it all seems a little...overrated? Maybe I'm just a little nitpicky, but bringing in an entire cast of newbies felt like it hurt the film more than it helped. Vincent's actor, for example, looked like he was trying a little too hard and the illusion was broken after that. Just my thoughts. No need to flame me, please."

「  UesugiFuutarou  」 :  replying to silverDRUID  "I encourage you to go see it again, this time, focusing more on Charlotte's character. Nakano-san is an incredibly talented actress, and you can really tell just how much of her heart and soul she puts out in all of her performances. Even for a newcomer, she demonstrates clear prowess in all varieties of roles she has even been cast in. Just take a look at some of her other works. You would not be able to tell it was the exact same person. That is exactly how talented she is, and she is only getting better. To elaborate on a few points from The Vermilion Riddle, I think one of her best scenes is probably somewhere in the middle, when it was revealed that... [Click to expand comment]"

「  filmjunkEE117  」 : replying to UesugiFuutarou "Whoa, you really know your stuff, huh? You sound like a real dedicated fan! I do agree though, I don't have any complaints about her. It was mostly just the others. Know any more of Nakano-sans's films? Any recommendations?"

"...all that and a little more." Miku continued. "Looks like Ichika is starting to attract a lot of attention. Isn't that gre—"

"Hold on, HOLD ON!" Itsuki shoved herself between Nino and Miku. "Am I reading that right?"

"Huh? Reading what?"

"That really long comment right there. You see it? The one you have to click to expand it. See it?"

"Wow," said Miku. "It looks like an entire essay."

"What about it?" Nino looked to the screen. "Man, that guy really poured his heart out, huh? Better watch out, Ichika, you might have just attracted some kind of weird stalk—" There was only a brief lapse of silence, followed by the loud noise of hands slammed against the table. "Wait, NO WAY! Are you kidding?!"

Startled by the sudden commotion, Ichika looked back to her three sisters. "What happened? Is something the matter?"

"That guy with that username..." Nino covered her forehead with the palm of her hand "...that is... so stupid..."

Itsuki sighed. "I thought so. Honestly, that doesn't surprise me, now that I think about it."

"Someone wanna clue me in?" Ichika asked.

"UesugiFuutarou..." Miku read aloud, hardly able to contain her laughter. "H-he-he actually... he actually used his... he used his real name as his screen name! That's hilarious! Who does that?"

There it was, front and center on that little laptop screen. 3,182 characters long. 522 words. Typed in meticulously proper grammar and format as if it were straight from a homework assignment. Bodies of text that carefully worded their old tutor's thoughts and analysis over something so niche. Simply put—praise. Words of admiration and adoration from a side of Fuutarou neither of them were exactly accustomed to, that Miku, Nino, and Itsuki could not help but fall into amused laughter as they read some of his well-researched, painstakingly-written discussion over what appeared to be,quoted, "The most gifted and most beautiful actress I had ever seen."

For a while, Ichika could only sit still. The adrift gaze in her eyes as she tightly held onto the shawl blanket around her shoulders. "Fuutarou-kun..." she muttered quietly. "He wrote something like that? About me?"

"Ichika, you really got to take a look at this." Miku swiped away a single tear from her eye. "It's actually really sweet. Since when did he know so much about cinematography?"

"He doesn't, I don't think..." Itsuki added. "Or at least, he shouldn't. Remember when we first invited him to watch a movie Ichika was in? He seemed pretty disinterested the first time and said something along the lines of 'not being that into watching movies' and that they were 'too expensive entertainment'. But I'm reading it right now, and he really sounds like he knows—OH NOO!"

Loudly, Itsuki slammed her head and fist onto the dining table. Her voice reduced to low, frustrated whines. "I-I I think I just read a huge spoiler! Even when Uesugi-kun is all the way in Tokyo, he still manages to ruin everything for me! UGH! I'll never forgive him!"

"Just who does he think he is?" said Nino. "Where does he get off coming out like a professional film critic? Talk about being way in over your head. Does he even know what he's talking about?"

"Fuutarou-kun is probably just being a little... biased." Ichika closely hugged her knees, gently caressing the warm ceramic of her coffee mug with her other hand. "I mean, Fuutarou-kun doesn't know a lot about films in the first place. He told me so. He probably doesn't even like movies all that much. I mean, he hardly can name an actress, so it makes sense that he would think and say something like that, considering I'm his girlfriend and all. It makes sense. And, and... who knows, right? Maybe the surname and given first name aren't exactly uncommon. You sure you read that right? Maybe, it's all just..."

Nino raised a brow, peering over from behind the laptop screen. "You're mumbling an awful lot, Ichika. That's not like you."

"M-M-me? Mumbling? About what?"No, no, I was just— Wait, hold on. Why are you getting out of your seat? Don't come—"

Across the other end of their couch, Nino had already seated herself down. She leaned closely towards Ichika's turned-away face. "Oi, Ichika. Look at me for a sec, will ya?"

"What for? We have the same face, so you can just look at Miku's or Itsuki's. Haha...ha..."

"Even Yotsuba could fake better than that. Come... here!" Nino reached over, tugging the blankets away from Ichika, and doing so, pulling Ichika along with her.

"Wait, wait!"

Exposed brightly red from one cheek to the other, Ichika sat with both of her hands poorly covering her face. Tiny peaks of her dark blue eyes—looking desperately off into the distance—were visible between the gaps of her fingers. Warmth of rushed blood tinged the tips of her ears to match her rosy cheeks. "Wh-what? What's...everyone looking at me like that for...?" The structure of her words were almost gelatinous in a way, breaking apart with every additional sound that came out of her mouth. "I-I was just a little... surprised. That's all. No need to overthink—"

"Ichika, you're blushing!" Itsuki stood up from her seat. "I've never seen her that red before!"

"So, critics raving about you aren't good enough, huh?" Nino mischievously grinned. "...but something from Fuu-kun works its way all up to your head? Is what I'm guessing right?"

Miku laughed. "Ichika is a lot more proud than she lets off, huh?"

"Ahh..." Ichika whined. "You girls..."

"Quick!" Nino turned back, pointing to the rest of them. "Someone take a picture! I'll hold her!"

"Miku! Have you seen my phone anywhere?!"

The sound of the door clicked open from the other side of the room, accompanied with the ruffle of plastic bags and the clatter of shoes being organized. "Tadaima!" the boisterous voice echoed from down the hall. "What's going on here?"

"Yotsuba! Just in time!" Nino called over. "Hurry! Come and take a look at Ichika's face!"

"You GIRLS!"

After a short—though Ichika would protest otherwise—bit of teasing, the rest of the morning at the Nakano apartment was more or less the same. Her sisters had returned to their own routines. Nino and Itsuki had left to study at a nearby cafe, and Miku and Yotsuba had left with Ebata to drive further into the city for the last remaining cookware and chef's attire Miku needed before her first day of culinary school. As for Ichika herself, she had come to realize that maybe Miku did have a point. Fatigue from her busy work schedule had finally caught up to her, and nothing could beat the idea of an afternoon spent lazing about in their apartment. Iced coffee made from the leftovers of morning, her digital tablet on her lap, and the fading background noise of classical music to fill the empty space.

Although, the past few hours or was not exactly something Ichika could describe as relaxing. For some odd reason, the thought of this morning had stuck by a little too comfortably in her head, and all she could think about was Fuutarou. Between his part time job and his diligent studies, just where had Fuutarou found the time to sound so passionately acquainted with films, actors, and cinematography? Fuutarou had never once let on any implication that he knew a lot about the topic. In fact, it was more so the opposite. There had been many times she had to explain to him the fundamentals of what separated an amateur from a pro, a good actress from a great actress. There were times when they had watched movies together over their online dates, and she would always have to rewind the movie, because Fuutarou did not quite understand aspects of a certain scene.

Looking back at it now, just how much time had passed since then? More specifically, how quickly had the time gone? Between her busy schedule, the constant movie shoots, and going from location to location, Ichika had always had the bad habit of not enjoying the quiet, still life. It has been months already. Months of constantly moving forward, looking ahead to the next milestone, that there just was not enough time to appreciate herself and those around her. These short text messages and phone calls between her and Fuutarou reflected their busying lives accordingly.

And yet, there was that little detail. That one, tiny thing that neither Ichika, nor her sisters would have noticed otherwise. But it was more than enough to know that despite being so far away, Fuutarou was always thinking of her, even in moments unnoticed.

Ichika tiredly sighed. For some reason, Fuutarou had his way of catching her off guard. From patting her on the head unexpectedly, to seeing through the lies she had put up, to managing to be the only one to make her blush as brightly as she did. And now, to the ringing of her phone when her thoughts and face were at their most bashful.

"Good morning, Fuutarou-kun," Ichika greeted.

"Morning? You know what time it is, don't you? Sounds like someone's been enjoying her day off."

Ichika chuckled. "You caught me."

"Well, I wouldn't blame you, Ichika. You've been pretty busy lately. Are you making sure you get enough sleep? Enough to eat? Don't overdo it if it's too much."

"Miku said the same thing. Is it really that obvious? It's not like you can see me or anything." She clicked her screen. "There I sent you a video request."

"I think I hear something? Am I supposed to press something on the screen?" Ichika heard a tired groan from the other side of the speaker. "Man, I can never get this complicated thing to work. Can you send it again?"

"On second thought," Ichika huddled against one lifted knee, burying her nose and cheek against her thigh. "We'll fix it another time. Don't exactly want you to see the look on my face right now."

"Did something happen?"

"Mm... nothing in particular. Say... Fuutarou-kun. I got a question for you..." Ichika explained the events from earlier in the morning. She told him of her much needed day off from work, and the new coffee recipes she had been trying out. She told him, with great amusement, of her sisters' eager anticipation of the movie's public reviews, pausing shortly every now and then as she recalled funny little details. Then, she carefully lead in to the little discovery they had made concerning Fuutarou. Ichika made sure to include as many details and descriptions as she could, pulling in from the excerpts that her sisters had blurted out loud. Though, some of it was easier said than done, as Ichika herself had her own hesitancy for reading his academic-level synopsis.

"Oh, you all saw that?" Fuutarou replied. "I didn't know any of you went to that website. That's surprising."

"That's all you have to say? Thought you'd at least be a little embarrassed, seeing as we caught you pouring your heart out for your one-of-a-kind girlfriend. I figured you'd at least try to deny it a little, or something like that. Well, that wouldn't make sense since you actually used your real name."

"Why would I? I'll admit, I didn't expect you all to find it, but it's not like I was lying about anything I said, so why would I be embarrassed?"

There it was again. It seemed like more and more times, Ichika could hardly manage to get the upper hand when it came to Fuutarou. Was she just getting a little rusty with this? Imaging that flustered face of his was what made him so adorable in the first place. Or was it, in some weird way, a means for Ichika to get a little payback for making her feel embarrassed, by throwing something back at him as well?

"...and I even went back to watch it a second and third time." Fuutarou continued. "Really opens your eyes to a lot of things I didn't notice at first."

"Oh? You watched it that many times?" said Ichika. "I'm honestly surprised. Well, people going to watch a movie twice isn't uncommon. But three times? You must have been a really big fan of it!"

"The second time, I was admittedly confused over a couple of things. The third... well... I wasn't sure if I should say anything because—knowing you—you'd tease me for it, but..." Fuutarou softly chuckled. "I... I just missed seeing you, so I wanted to go one more time. That was all."

Okay. Twice in such a short time was outright unfair. Fuutarou should not have been able to steal away the thoughts that ran through her mind, and yet here he was, already in possession of her head and her heart. Just plain unfair.

"You're too sweet, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika mustered every bit of her composure to keep up an amorous, playful tone. It was this one time she was glad they did not have their cameras turned on. "To think, my performance alone was enough to squeeze three full-price admission tickets from THE Uesugi Fuutarou, whose wallet is practically airtight. You must really miss me that much, hmm? What would you do when we finally see each other, after all this time? What are you imagining?"

Fuutarou laughed from the other end, somewhat in a stagger to mask the hesitation in his voice. Good. Those kinds of reactions would never get old, and it did her some comfort to know that she was not too rusty with her quick teases. There was a short silence between the two of them, until Ichika spoke again. Quieter. More cautious, despite the fact that she was the only one in the entire apartment. "...I... I miss you too, Fuutarou-kun. I miss you... so much."

"...I miss you too, Ichika."

"What are you saying? You already said that to me, you dork!" Ichika laughed, much harder and much longer than she had anticipated. Flutters of some bizarre, unknown feeling filled her stomach and the ends of her cheekbones started to get a little sore. "And just when did you learn so much about movies? I thought you weren't really that into this kind of stuff."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot to mention it a while ago, but I enrolled in a course about film study. First years are required to enroll in courses about Cultural Representation, but besides that, I found this stuff to be kind of interesting. I even picked up a few books that my professor recommended to me. Figured it was time I educated myself a bit more on the topic, since I do, after all, know one heck of an actress."

"Your flattery has gotten a lot better, Fuutarou-kun. You been practicing that too?"

More than better, Ichika thought to herself. It was just right. Many times, Ichika had taken the role of a young girl in love. A naive schoolgirl, a daydreaming romantic, a hopeful admirer. It was a common role, especially given her appearance and age. An actress was one who puts on many different faces, and throughout those times, Ichika could only interpret those feelings. That was, before she had met Fuutarou. How was it that just about any words that came through the other end of the phone was enough to turn her into that lovestruck character Ichika had only been able to imitate?

"I feel a bit guilty, actually," Ichika continued. "You're doing so much just for me, and you also started a part time job, right? Things must be busier than ever for you, and you're still taking your time to—"

There was a short pause in their conversation. Fuutarou glanced at his phone, trying again to get through. "Hello?"

"Sorry, I was getting a call from work. Even though it's my day off..."

"Oh, go ahead and take the call. I don't mind."

"But..." Ichika hesitated. Of course, the commitment to her job was one of the most important things to her right now. It might not be the best habit to get used to, but Ichika would not mind the occasional phone call during her days off if it were for something important. But right now, she really wanted to spend this short amount of time with Fuutarou.

"Hello? Still there?"

"Sorry. That was Oda-san calling again. I'd hate to cut our conversation short... I could just get back to him later."

Again, there was another short pause. From the other end of the phone, Fuutarou can hear the click of Ichika's teeth and the tap of her thumb against the screen.

"Sounds like it could be something important if they keep calling, right? I wouldn't want to get in the way of an important work call We can always catch up later."

Ichika sighed. That sort of attitude was of someone who had no trouble working themselves to the bone, and honestly, it came to no surprise coming from Fuutarou. Just for a little while longer, she wished to spend a bit more time with her lazy self. "I'll see what he wants, and I'll call you right back, okay?"

"Yeah. No problem. See you, Ichika."

"Bye bye, Fuutarou-kun."

Ichika switched her attention to the fourth repetition of the annoying buzzing. Admittedly, there were things that brought out a bit of a childish nature within her. Like a bratty child that was told they could not have something, and the underlying annoyance in her tone proved it. "Hello, Oda-sa—"

"NAKANO-SAN!" The vocal impact of his voice was enough to disarm her thoughts. "Are you there? Hello?"

"Oda-san? What's wrong? You sound out of breath. Is everything alright?"

"Nakano-san!" Oda repeated. "Sorry, sorry. I don't mean to call you on your day off, but I just got some news and I had to tell you. I apologize for inconveniencing you."

"It's okay, Oda-san, just slow down a little. Now, what is going on?"

"Have you seen any of the reviews online? For The Vermilion Riddle? Have you?"

"The reviews? I've... seen a couple of them. Mostly just the score, and it looks like it did really well. What about it...?"

"Well, ye-yes, but more importantly it's..." There were some small disturbances in the background of Oda's side. Bumping of an office chair, murmurs of Oda's daughter passing by, slipping of his fingers as he adjusted his phone. "I-I just got off the phone with Masaki-san."

"The director?"

"Yes." Oda took the time to gather his breath. "The movie received a lot of press, it seems. I could hardly get my thoughts straight before I received the phone call. Masaki-san called to inform me that...th-that you've been invited, Nakano-san! Masaki-san, and rest of the main cast, have been invited to a late-night talk show in Tokyo! You've all been invited as guests! It will be a live interview!"

Ichika's eyes grew wide. "An... interview...?"

Chapter Text

Light, whimsical air. Remnants of a warm floral scent that teased its way to the very ends of the nose, inviting careless, senseless desires. Sweet, soothing—and once it eventually faded—faintly cruel. If only for a short while longer, the arms that tightly wrapped around the thin shoulders of her body wanted nothing more than to remain like this. To savor what looked like a cordial exchange, but felt like a long-awaited reunion.

And maybe, if it were not for the abrupt cough beside them, the two lovers would not have minded doing exactly so. Instead, they were promptly reminded that they stood outside the entryway to a Tokyo apartment complex, and they promptly left each other's embrace. Two pinkish-reddish haired women, and the mildly-flustered university student at the doorway. "Sorry to... interrupt," Itsuki said slowly. "Ichika and I had quite a long drive up here. Do you mind if we come in first, Uesugi-kun?"

Fuutarou faltered a cough. "Yeah, sure. Go right on ahead and make yourselves comfortable."

When he had received the phone call shortly after their conversation some weeks ago, Fuutarou had never expected things to turn out like this. Ichika was a talented actress—that much he never doubted—but going as far as to be invited to take part in a coordinated group interview here in Tokyo was monumental for her career. Her lucky break. A complete two-hour reserved time slot on Tokyo Stars Live, a popular talk show hosted in the evenings. In the time between the phone call and the actual interview date, public interest in the acclaimed independent-film, The Vermllion Riddle, had been kept at an all-time high. Movie lovers, theater enthusiasts, and most importantly, film studio agents, all across the prefecture would most likely tune in for the details concerning the production of the now-popular film and the mysterious newcomers of the industry.

"Sorry to intrude, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika waved to him as she stepped in, then turned to the side to cover a long yawn.

"Tired?" Fuutarou asked.

"A little. Had to wake up pretty early to get here, and the seat of a car can't beat a nice warm bed." Ichika took a glance inside Fuutarou's apartment. Not much could be made from just the front hallway. "You do have a bed, right? Or at least a comfy futon? I'd like to close my eyes for just a..."

"No, Ichika!" Itsuki retorted. "You can't stay long, remember? Your manager will be here soon to pick you up."

"I was only joking." Ichika yawned again. "Mostly..."

"Have you thought about what you're going to say? Is there anything wrong with the dress we brought? What if something—"

"She'll be fine, Itsuki." Fuutarou sighed. "Now hurry inside. You're clogging up the entire doorway."

"C-c-clogging? How dare you! Are you trying to call me—"

"Now, now..." Ichika laughed, gently beckoning her younger sister inside. "Get along nicely, you two. Come on, let's go inside. I'm really excited to see what the inside of Fuutarou's apartment looks like!"

Greeting them at the entryway was a small lower platform, followed by a slightly narrow hallway that led to a closed door. Lined against the walls of the hallway was a fridge connected to a long counter-top, which had an electric stove, a sink, and a microwave. A kitchen, to say the very least. The closed door on the opposite wall lead to the bathroom, which made the door at the end of the hallway the one that would lead to the main room. To the Nakano sisters' surprise, the full extent of the apartment had ended with that room. A single bed lined against the wall, a study desk, a dresser, a couple of floor pillows over a rug, a tiny bookshelf, and a tea table placed right in the center. A plastic fixture hung over the rail of the curtains, where some drying shirts spread to face the sun. Simple and efficient, albeit a little dull.

"It's really... how do I put it..." Itsuki struggled to find the words. She did not want to say it, but each of their own individual rooms probably had more space than the entire apartment. "...charming?"

"I think it's really cute." Ichika smiled. "Like your own tiny little world. It's kind of fitting for Fuutarou-kun. Look, you have everything you need right next to you. Is this your closet over here?"

"Like I told you before," Fuutarou said as he closed the door behind them. "It's nothing that special. It's Tokyo we're talking about here, and I'm just a student. Studio apartments are the norm."

"Studio...?" Itsuki repeated, completely unfamiliar with the type of housing. Now that she thought about it, there were a lot of young adults that they passed by. For such a large, populous city, Itsuki had a bit of trouble wondering why such cramped spaces were so common. Though, there was no need to pursue the thought, as Itsuki instead noticed something peculiar about Fuutarou's room. "Come to think of it, a lot of this reminds me of your home back at Tokai, Uesugi-kun."

"Does it?" He thought for a moment. "Like how?"

Itsuki nodded, then pointed to several corners of the room. "I'm sure of it. See? If you replace the desk with that tall bookshelf, it's practically the same layout. If I sit right over here like this... it's like I'm having dinner at your place again. Don't you think so? There's your father's seat, Raiha-chan's seat, and yours." She lightly sniffed the air. "Ah... for some reason, I'm craving a nice, hot serving of curry right about now."

"Hmm... I never thought about that, but you're kind of right. Guess I kind of put things where I'm used to. Never paid much attention to it."

"Oh, did you bring that framed drawing Raiha made from home too? That one on the wall looks really familiar."

"Raiha gave it to me as a housewarming gift," Fuutarou replied. "I'm surprised you remember."

"Because Raiha-chan told me all about it. Don't you remember? You got upset when she explained that she drew you with a big frowny face on purpose."

"My, I sometimes forget how close the two of you are." Ichika's voice playfully interjected itself into their conversation. Innocent enough of a tease as they would normally think, although, the cold delivery of that statement had made the two of them quickly clasp their lips shut.

Ichika lightly stepped over, leaning in between both their shoulders. "Out of all of us, Itsuki is the only one who has ever stepped foot inside Fuutarou-kun's home. Oh! And Itsuki also spent the night there before, wasn't that right? Ahh... it's a good thing your big sis isn't the jealous type." She placed one hand on her cheek and her other arm across her chest, carrying her gentle malice to their ears. "Right, Fuutarou-kun? Itsuki-chan?"

Itsuki fumbled over her words as she turned to the side. "I-I-I... no, tha-that was... that was...b-because"

"I'm only joking! Joking!" Ichika broke into a fit of laughter. "Come on, it wasn't that convincing, was it? What did you two think I was gonna do?"

Itsuki returned a laugh, but it came out more as a breath of relief. No matter how much she knew about her own sister, there would be times Itsuki would forget just how convincing of an actress Ichika could be. Or maybe, a small part of her was easily intimidated by that peculiar nature of her elder sister, no matter how far behind them it seemed. "Oh, was that it? You scared me there a little, Ichika."

"Remind me that I wouldn't want to stay on your bad side, Ichika." Fuutarou sighed, then looked across the table. "Was she really like this when you were kids, Itsuki? Can't imagine growing up on the receiving end."

"Hey!" Ichika glared with a quick puff to her cheeks. "You're being mean, Fuutarou-kun... I'm not like that anymore. Don't hold that against me..."

After a bit of back and forth, the three of them eventually found themselves exchanging laughter over cups of freshly-brewed green tea. It was at this time Fuutarou had learned a bit more about what the other sisters were up to and why only Itsuki was able to make it with Ichika today. Nino, as part of her major in business management, had swallowed the disappointment of missing out on a second trip to Tokyo, in favor of a new apprenticeship in tandem with her studies. As it turned out, her declared field had become a lot more competitive trending over the recent years. Grades alone were not enough to be ahead of the game, and if it was one thing that everyone of them knew, it was that the second eldest quintuplet had a knack for things when it came to competition.

For Miku, she was now entering her second week of culinary school, and has since spent each and every day preparing as if there were an important examination on the following day. Diligence that would make any former tutor proud.

As for Yotsuba, no one was quite sure what the fourth quintuplet was up to these days. Going in and out of the house was not outside of normal behavior, but the energetic girl could hardly answer their questions before the door clicked shut. All they knew was that Yotsuba had expressed her deepest apologies for not being able to make it to Tokyo a second time so soon, and that she would be joining Miku and Nino back at home as they watched the interview live on TV.

It almost seemed as if no amount of time could ever be enough to satisfy a conversation, especially not now. The droning sound of Ichika's phone had interrupted their conversation about Ichika's recent auditions, and the look on her face was equally as disappointed as it was for Fuutarou.

"You're leaving already?" Fuutarou slowly stood back up. "Feels like you only just got here."

"I don't want to go either." Ichika slowly shook her head. "A small part of me really wishes I could just blow off this interview completely. There's so many things I want us to catch up on, and you still haven't gotten the chance to show me around Tokyo, like you did with Miku and Yotsuba."

"Yeah..."

"I mean it, Fuutarou-kun!" Ichika leaned closer, pointing a finger as if she were trying to scold him. "You owe me a nice, romantic date somewhere in the city, okay, City Boy? When I get the chance to come back here, you're going to be all mine for the whole day."

"I promise." Fuutarou returned a smile. "And I'll count the days."

A wide grin formed on Ichika's face, before the elated actress planted a quick kiss on his cheeks. "I'll hold you up to that."

"Ahem." Itsuki broke in with another cough. "I'm uh... still here. I'd offer to move to a different room so you two can... talk, but uhm..."

"Oh lighten up, Itsuki." Ichika stepped around her younger sister, then wrapped her arms tightly around her so that their cheeks pressed against each other. "We're all adults now. Adults don't need to be shy about their feelings, especially when it comes to the people they love very very much."

Itsuki quietly groaned. "Okay... okay, okay! I get it, Ichika, but you're smothering me!"

Ichika laughed. "Alright! I wouldn't want to keep my manager waiting. I'll see you all after the show, alright? Fuutarou-kun, take good care of Itsuki for me."

They both saw Ichika out to her car, wishing her the best of luck as she prepared for the evening's interview. It was still reasonably early in the day, but to their surprise, a lot of arrangement was in order when it came to an actress, no matter how novice they may be. Makeup, dressing, and making proper introductions with her hosts. Between both Itsuki and Fuutaoru, it seemed almost inexplicable how someone their own age could stay so calm and composed, but Ichika reassured them that things would go well.

Now, however, there was a slight situation. As they had known, there were still hours in the day before evening, and the small Tokyo apartment now housed two individuals who were not exactly the most compatible. Uesugi Fuutarou rummaging through random parts of his kitchen, Nakano Itsuki seated at one end of the tea table, and a lengthy silence that hardly befitted a single occupant, let alone two.

Itsuki was the first to speak up. "So... Uesugi-kun, how... have things been? Is school going... well?"

With a raised brow, Fuutarou turned to Itsuki. Small talk was not exactly something the two of them often shared. "It's going well, I suppose. And you?"

"Good. And good. Good to both. Both are good."

Another short silence. It would be a bit rude on Fuutarou's part to not contribute a little more to keep things going, and it only took one look to Itsuki's fidgety motions to surmise something. Itsuki wanted something, and this girl had a bit of trouble when it came to wording her exact thoughts. "Have you been keeping up with your studies? You haven't slacked off just because I'm not around to scold you, right?"

"Of course I haven't slacked off!" Itsuki quickly retorted. "In fact, I'll have you know that I've been doing quite well in my classes. Don't expect a miracle or anything; I'm not acing all of my assignments, but I'm off to a much better start than I was in high school."

"Good." Fuutarou acknowledged. He leaned against his palm, smiling. "Good on you. Looks like my strict tutoring worked its way into you somehow. So? Was there something on your mind?"

Another good look at her face was enough to further confirm it. Dodged looks and lips fighting back her own mumbling. Finally, Itsuki took a deep breath. "You know, it really was a terrible experience having you be my tutor... but, regrettably... I have to admit that it was thanks to you that I'm attending college. I don't mean to flatter you or anything... it's just that... I wasn't sure if... well, if you remember graduation. Our little graduation you threw for us, I mean. I uhm... I requested something from you... and...and... ugh! Will you just say something already? Anything? It's weird only hearing my voice the entire time!"

Fuutarou gave a half-amused chuckle. "Just wanted to see how long you would go until you made a point. Yeah. I remember. Aren't you working part time with Shimoda-san as well? Isn't she helping you too?"

"I'm grateful for Shimoda-san's help. Really, I am. She's been a great teacher so far, but she teaches at a cram school. Shimoda-san told me that cram students are a lot different than regular students. It's hard to explain, but it's also good that I broaden my horizons a little more, as they say." A clicking sound escaped Itsuki's teeth. "And as awful, awful, as it was of an experience... I still have a lot to learn from you. About what it means to teach someone. I just never knew when was the right time to bring it up. And the reason why I'm bringing it up now is because of... something that happened the other day."

"Something that happened?"

"I... accompanied Yotsuba to a friend's house from high school. They've apparently been keeping close in touch, and Yotsuba mentioned something about needing help with something, though, Yotsuba didn't answer when I asked. While the two of them were talking, I was just waiting in the living room with her little sister. Apparently, our friend's little sister needed some help with her homework, and I thought I could pass the time by offering to help..."

Before she continued, Itsuki had suddenly lowered her head in shame. "She couldn't have been older than seven years old, but when I tried to explain simple multiplication to her, she looked at me like I was spouting nonsense! I did my best to help her; I took my time trying to explain, I gave examples, but it didn't do any good. Even I started to get confused over my own explanations, like I couldn't even solve them myself. These were second-grade concepts, Uesugi-kun! Second-grade! It was humiliating!"

There was a short moment in between when Itsuki had finished and when Fuutarou had gotten off his seat and to the small bookshelf. He scanned through the titles before pulling out one, two, then three books. "These are the one's I brought with me to Tokyo," Fuutarou said as he took a seat opposite of Itsuki. "Could you clear the table a little?"

"What are these?" Itsuki picked up some of the titles. "'How to Become a Better Tutor'... 'The Comprehensive Guide to Tutoring' ... 'Making Your Students Succeed: The Defining Qualities of a Great Teacher'... Uesugi-kun, these are..."

"You're free to borrow those as long as you return them," Fuutarou said. He slid her a spare notebook and some pencils. "I haven't forgotten the promise I made to you when we graduated. But remember what I told you, it's not always going to be easy. Neither will I. I'm a strict teacher and we hardly ever see eye to eye. You sure you're up for it?"

"I..." Itsuki looked over the contents of the table. These were not new books either. Some corners of the pages were curled ever so slightly, showing the meticulous back and forth of reading and re-reading. Tiny colored flaps peaked out of different sections of each book, carefully organized. Uesugi Fuutarou was smart, that much Itsuki had no trouble admitting. But just intelligence alone was not all there was to a great teacher. No, that much was something different. "Of course," she finally replied. "If you would be so kind... please teach me, Uesugi-sensei."

"We got a lot to cover before Ichika's interview." He lifted a pencil, and Itsuki did the same. "Let's see here..."

Truthfully, Fuutarou still had a bit of adjustments to be made when it came to the grand scale of Tokyo city. Trains twisted and turned into a complex network, spread across dozens, perhaps hundreds, of kilometers, with an equivalent abundance of cityfolk crowding in between. Even if he had spent every day of his current life in this city, Fuutarou would have his doubts on just how much he knew his way around. Nothing like back home, at least. And certainly not this deep within the heart of downtown.

By the time evening had approached, Fuutarou and Itsuki had found themselves cautiously entering the decorative foyer of a rather extravagant theater. Evening dwellers and late night observers gathered past the featured marquee, where the bold letters proudly highlighted the night's guests.

Though there was quite a turnout for the show, Ichika told them they were at least lucky that it was not a featured night for any larger, more famous celebrities, instead of, they quoted, 'some lucky newbies'. Still, it was a completely new experience for either of them. For starters, because they were friends and family of the talk show's invited guests, they were surprised to find out that they would be professionally escorted to their specially reserved seating, right in the front row.

"We finally made it." Itsuki let out a sigh of relief, then slunk into the cushions of her seat. Exhausted after the relentless hours of studying, Itsuki began to question just what part of her missed having this guy as her tutor. It was as if a single thing had not changed between them; Fuutarou was as strict as ever and did not hold back when it came to his expectations. "We would have been here a lot sooner if you didn't pull a pop quiz on me at the end. It was only the first lesson!"

"And if I didn't you wouldn't have learned anything." Fuutarou retorted. "And you were the one who kept asking questions at the end. You got most of it right the first time, so we could have left it at that."

"Well, it's not my fault the way you worded those questions was confusing. I could have gotten them all right, plus, I thought we had plenty of time. You were the one who took us aboard the wrong train."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Itsuki." He quickly returned a glare. "You always were slow to learn new things the first time around; don't flatter yourself into thinking you'll ace it the first try. And hey, cut me some slack, I've only lived here for four months, not four years. I've hardly been this far into the city before. You should have been helping me look at the map instead of just complaining about how hungry you were."

"I studied for so long, of course I'd start getting a little hungry! We were in such a rush, I couldn't even grab anything on the way here. And I find it hard to believe you don't have at least some snacks lying around your pantry."

Fuutarou gave her a quizzical, somewhat irritated, look. "Really? Out of everything I had just said, that was what bothered you?" He shook his head. "Whatever. There's really no point arguing over it. The important thing is that we made it here on time. When does it start?"

Itsuki took a look at her phone. "Uhm... a little over five minutes. Wow, the place is really starting to pack up, huh?" She placed a hand on her stomach, feeling light flutters along the walls of her insides. "Ah... I'm so nervous! I'm not even the one being interviewed; I can't imagine how Ichika can be so calm in front of all these people!"

Something about the audience had prompted Fuutarou to take a look around. He had almost forgotten. A talk show like Tokyo Stars Live had a sizable following in the Tokyo night scene, and a ticket to just one show can easily be worth tens of thousands of yen. A reserved seat was something he had never expected to receive; he would have had no troubles watching it from home like the rest of the sisters. When Ichika had jokingly mentioned to the studio agent that she had a family of four other sisters, they had disappointingly said that with the large number of cast members being interviewed tonight, they could only allow three guests per actor or actress. With Itsuki being the only sibling whose schedule allowed a trip to Tokyo at this time, and Fuutarou himself being a sensible choice, that left one more ticket for—

"Sorry, I'm late." Despite the murmurs and mumbles of the surrounding audience members, the profound depth of his voice carried every word directly to Fuutarou's ears. One that thought carefully over every word, especially to those he stood over.

"Father!" Both Itsuki and Fuutarou replied in unison, albeit a little more hesitant from Fuutarou. Stood in front of them was a tall man in a slim-fit suit, with dark hair that parted down both sides of his crown. His eyes were sharp and narrowed, carrying a look of indifference as he glanced at the two of them. Nakano Maruo. Stepfather of the quintuplet sisters, and the previous employer of Uesugi Fuutarou, who Fuutarou had last seen at their high school graduation.

"—You have no reason to call him 'Father.'"

"—You have no reason to call me 'Father.'"

Clenched in Maruo's hand were two plastic bags which he offered to his youngest daughter. "Here, Itsuki," Maruo said, "I had to stop by a second convenience store along the way. Two croquette buns, a curry bun, tuna onigiri, unagi onigiri, and I also got you a container of karaage. Just like you asked."

A delighted smile beamed across Itsuki's face as she had already begun unwrapping the first item. "Thank you, Father!"

If not for the crinkle of plastic, and the light sounds of her munching, Fuuarou would have thought this situation was a little too uncomfortable to handle. He thought of it as convenient, but that hardly mattered when Maruo had purposely taken the middle seat between him and Itsuki. With his back straightened and legs patiently crossed, Maruo sat without much idle conversation as the short minutes ticked by.

Fuutarou quietly let out a sigh of relief. The worst thing that he thought of was if they were to somehow bring up—

"It's come to my attention, Uesugi-kun, that you and Ichika have started dating." His words were stone cold, accompanied with an insightful gaze without the need to turn his head.

If Fuutarou had not expected this exact scenario, then he was a fool. He had enough days to anticipate it, and nothing felt more suitable for him to do than to respectfully say, "Y-y-yes, Nakano-san. We are."

"I see." Maruo paused. "Well, I have never been one to question my daughters' decisions. Certainly not Ichika's, either."

"You have my gratitude." Fuutarou politely bowed. "I can assure you that I—"

"However," Maruo interrupted. "I could not say the same for you, Uesugi-kun. I trust that we, as previous employer and employee, upheld our professionalism under our contract as best as we possibly could. Of course, I am am familiar with how many times you've overstepped your bounds as their tutor. As their father, I was shocked to find out that it extended romantically. Could I at least trust that you, as their tutor, had not misbehaved or crossed any lines, in any way while under my arrangements?"

At times like this, Fuutarou wondered why he even sought after courage to speak. Those years were perhaps one of the hardest times he had ever gone through, but not once did he regret it. Not once for the friends he had made, not once for the memories he treasured, and not once for the one he admired the most. He straightened his posture, equal to Maruo's. "As their tutor?" Fuutarou began. "I've done nothing but what you had asked for, Nakano-san. However, if I may, I speak as someone of their age, who considers all five of them as his closest friends. There is nothing I would not have done if it meant their best interests at heart, whether it be their grades, their troubles, or their dreams. Surely, you could understand, if it was their own decisions."

"As for my relationship with your daughter..." Fuutarou continued. He looked onward to the set, where several of the film crew had started to position themselves. A stage befitting someone he had now put all of his faith in over her talents, and the light that shined bright whenever he would look her way. How he longed for those moments he could spend with her, resonating louder in his heart. "...I had already fallen for Ichika before I ever I knew it. That's why I cannot say for certain whether I had crossed that line first as her tutor, or as her friend. Though, maybe I should be the one questioning her decision, and what Ichika saw in a study-obsessed loner like me."

He chuckled, leaving behind a warm smile. "But I know for a fact that Ichika would get upset at me if I ever did something like that."

"I see." Maruo slowly returned his gaze to the stage. He closed his eyes, offering nothing more between them than a contemplative silence, before the dim of the audience lights drew the curtain over their conversation. "Ah. It's starting."

Lights drew attention to the decorative center stage, accompanied by the loud chorus of the live band. Patters of applauded hands and the turn of cameras welcomed the suited man who energetically ran up the stage, waving both of his hands to the audience with light kisses spread out from his palm. He looked to be no older than his late thirties, with short, slicked black hair, frameless glasses over his nose, and a brimming smile to welcome his audience. Confidence and charisma marked every grand one of his gestures, a quality unsurprising for that of a famous talk show host in Tokyo. Haga Ryushi, host of Tokyo Stars Live. An evening show that specialized in their repertoire of specially invited guests and performers.

As the music eventually faded and the audience quietened, the host began his introduction. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! This is Tokyo Stars Live, and I'm your host, Haga Ryushi. How are we all doing tonight?" His voice was both amiable and powerful, drawing lighter applause before he continued with the rest of his opening lines. Nothing too extravagant, but subtly intricate to easily lead in to the flesh of the night's show.

"...alright, enough about all of that," Haga lead on, "we got some special guests here tonight. I'm sure you've heard their names buzzing all across the web—Or! Or, maybe you have not! Because on tonight's show, we learn to expect the unexpected. Names can crawl out from under the woodwork, from seemingly out of the blue, and you might want to stick around to see how big it gets. I am of course talking about the unsuspected superstars, the creator behind the camera, the fresh blood of film—whose independent movie, The Vermllion Riddle, had taken film-lovers across the country by surprise—please welcome the director of The Vermllion Riddle, Masaki Yusa!"

The audience cheered as the thirty year old woman made her appearance the stage. To many viewers, the little gestures the young director made could be seen as oddly cute and quirky, though if anyone from the front seat had the suspicion, they could get an inkling of a feeling that Masaki Yusa was a little nervous over the whole ordeal. That did not come off as too much of a surprise; it was perhaps her first time facing such a large crowd, which would be broadcasted for all to see. All at the young director age of thirty. To her own relief, she was able to take a seat on the guest's couch after politely shaking hands with the host.

"...and joining Masaki-san tonight," continued the host, "we got quite a package deal in store for us. Please, a round of applause, for the rest of the main cast—Morioka Misako! Yuuma Misao! Nagisa Tarou! And Nakano Ichika!"

Though it was hard for Ichika to tell, there was quite a bit of excitement that followed her name. If she had noticed, she would have brushed it off as simply being the last name called. She and her colleagues entered in a staggered order, in accordance to the short five-to-seven seconds between each of their names being introduced.

Breathe, straighten your posture, pause, and go. Nakano Ichika had made her appearance to the public with a proud smile across her face. Dressed elegantly on the young actress was a black halter sheath dress with a light brown belt tied high above her waist, with a classy chandelier earring, and black ankle-strap heels.

Like lightning piercing through him, Fuutarou felt his heart stop the moment Ichika gave a perfect wink toward their seat in the crowd. A look as beautiful as it was irresistible. A flirtatious tug to the strings of a suddenly quickened heartbeat that would not easily go unremembered.

And if that did not kill him on the spot, then perhaps it might have been the sudden feeling of a sharp, sudden gaze from a protective father.

Politely, Ichika offered her greetings and formalities with their amicable host, before seating herself with the rest of her colleagues. One leg crossed over the other, patiently waiting as they all took turns introducing themselves and their respective roles in the film.

Hundreds of kilometers away, eagerly awaiting eyes fixated themselves to the living room television. "Are they done with that director person yet?" Nino's voice called across from the kitchen. Pantry doors opened and closed as she assembled light snacks. "I'm sick and tired of hearing about her the whole time! Masaki Yusa this, and Masaki Yusa that! Don't people get tired of it?"

"Well, she is the director. " Miku crumbled a rice cracker in between her lips. "They're the ones in charge of the whole thing practically. Of course they'd pay more attention to that."

"Hmph. I think she's had enough attention to last her a lifetime."

Bright little stars formed in Yotsuba's eyes and the excitable quint crawled closer to the television. "I don't think I could ever wear something that grown-up in front of so many people. Ah! Ichika pulls it off so well! Look at her, she's famous!"

"Not exactly 'famous' yet," Miku said. "But it's a big milestone for her career. I'm so proud."

Nino joined her sisters on the couch. "Those are the other actors, huh?" Her knuckles propped up against her chin as the interview carried on. "They really do have that aura to them. They stand out a lot."

"Nino! Did you get me some—"

"Yeah, yeah. Here." She chucked the bag of chocolate at Yotsuba, almost hitting her in the face if the fourth sister did not have such quick reflexes.

"I get what you mean, Nino," said Miku. "We're so used to seeing Ichika shine, it's pretty interesting to see her among her equals. Good news though, it looks like they started to segment things over to the cast now."

"Finally."

"Hey, you guys," said Yotsuba, somewhat muffled by the piece of chocolate still in her mouth. "You think we'd be able to see Uesugi-san, or Itsuki, or Dad the next time the camera pans to the audience? I'm gonna take a closer look!"

The interview had carried on from the focus of Masaki Yusa's vision and the inspirations she took to bring the film to life. Admittedly, the young director was a lot more humble than some would expect from one claimed to be a prodigy, but Masaki would always defer much of her received praise to the actors and actresses that sat beside her. She held that without their unpolished talent and raw potential, the film would not have been what she had envisioned it to be.

Naturally, the interest of the host had taken its turn to hear the voices of the cast. Morioka Misako, a 23 year old university student who played the role of Natalia Rustfield, the widowed wife that set the stage and overall tone for the hit mystery-thriller movie. Nagisa Tarou, a 24 year old recent university graduate who played the role of Gregory Hughes, an amateur detective and one of three childhood friends of Natalia. Yuuma Misao, a 21 year old trainee actor, who played the role of Vincent Chambers, the second childhood friend and romantic interest to both Natalia and Charlotte in their youth.

And Nakano Ichika. 18 years old, fresh-blooded trainee actress and recent high school graduate. Her character, Charlotte Lilia, was an aspiring photographer and the unsuspected pivotal force of the movie. With such a driving role in the film, a good amount of questions and topics had come the young actress's way. In fact, the attention she had received may as well earn Ichika the sole responsibility of carrying the entirety of the film all the way to its success.

"...I must say that is quite impressive," praised Haga, the live show's host. "You're only 18 years old and you managed to pull off quite the performance. I myself have seen the film twice now, and if you had told me that this girl had JUST got out high school, I wouldn't have believed you! My youngest niece is older."

"...Nakano-san was such a huge pleasure to work with," answered Yuuma, Ichika's colleague. "Everyday she gave it her best, and I think I speak for all of us when I say she was such an inspiration to us all."

"...There you go again with Nakano-san," followed Morioka, the other actress, "We get it, Yuuma-san. You're a big fan of your junior. You wouldn't believe the number of times he's cheered her on when we were filming. And he ALWAYS brought her coffee, even when she didn't ask for it."

"...She is the 'baby' of the cast, after all." Nagisa, the oldest of the actors, chuckled. "And as cute as a button. Doesn't she look like the kind of junior you would want to dote on and encourage?"

"Oh stop it, you guys." Ichika laughed. Being in the position of the youngest in the group was quite a different position than what most others had normally seen her. She would find herself on the other end of teasing from her senior colleagues, but it was not hard to play things off casually. "You all, including Masaki-san, took such great care of me. I am truly honored to be beside here with everyone of you."

Nino continued to watch the screen. "You know, it's hard to remember that we're all quintuplets. We're the same age and we look exactly alike, but seeing Ichika on the screen like that... it's really something else, huh? Ichika is a damn natural."

"I'd be so nervous..." Miku said, squirming a little in her seat. "Ichika really gets along well with anybody."

"Yeah, well this Yuuma guy seems to be getting along with her too well..." Nino leered, as if her threat could somehow be sent through the television. "She's got a boyfriend, pal! Back off!"

Interest in the lives of the young actors and actresses had become the center of attention following the lengthy discussions of the film. Haga, the host of the night show, had expressed his interest on the subject. He believed that the inner works of a smaller studio film was an unexplored subject that never lead to the same kinds of answers, as he had often invited the more renowned actors and directors of the film industry.

Light gossip, to put it simply. As it turned out, the humane blunders and behind-the-scenes interactions of a young cast was a refreshing perspective. With so many of them being relatively unknown to the public, it made sense that a lot of their personalities were left to be discovered.

Shortly after, there was a brief intermission for the staff, guests, and audience. Itsuki tucked her handkerchief back inside the pockets of her coat as she stepped out of the restroom. There was still some time left before the show would resume. Perhaps somewhere in the lobby offered some snacks or maybe—

"Nakano-san!" a random passerby had suddenly turned at his heel. "Oh my, it's really you!"

"Eh?" Itsuki gaze a quizzical look at the stranger. "Do I..."

"I'm a huge fan of your performance! I know you must be busy, so I won't take up much of your time, but I just want to say that I'll be cheering you on!"

Something finally clicked in Itsuki's head. "Oh, I'm sorry. You must be mistaken, I—"

"Wait, is that Nakano-san?" A passing couple had overheard their conversation. "It's really her! Excuse me, if it isn't any trouble, do you think we could get a photo with you? We understand if you're busy."

"I-I-I'm not..." A few more heads had turned their way.

"My friends and I loved your performances, Nakano-san!"

"Are you starring in any more movies soon?"

"Marry me, Nakano-san!"

The commotion had built to an overwhelming level for the confused redhead. Combined with the exhausting lectures of that morning, Itsuki could hardly handle her scattered thoughts. How exactly does she answer any of these questions? How does she clear up this weird misunderstanding? How—

She felt at her wrist, and she could hardly process the thought to fight back before she found herself pulled from the crowd and slipped around a vacant corner in the lobby. By the time Itsuki had realized it, Fuutarou had prompted her to keep her voice down. "Should have seen that one coming, Itsuki..."

"Thank you, Uesugi-kun..." Itsuki mumbled. "Honestly, how does Ichika handle that kind of stuff? It's just too much..."

"We can duck here for a little bit until the show starts again. That fine with you?"

"That's fine but..." Still carrying that puzzled look, Itsuki stiffly started to scratch the back of her head. "How have you been holding up, Uesugi-kun? Everything okay?"

"Huh? Where did that come from?"

"I'm just trying to be nice! You looked like something had been bothering you during the show."

"That was probably because your dad is scary as hell. Wait, you were glancing at me? That's... kind of weird."

"No it's not that, I figured that it was—" Itsuki sighed, then waited before she began again. "Look, we all know about... that talk you and Ichika had. It's been on a lot of our minds too. I... don't know anything about being in that position, but I'd imagine it must be a little difficult. It seemed like it was for Ichika as well, and she normally doesn't show it."

"Oh, so she told you guys, huh?" Tiredly, Fuutarou leaned his back against the wall, then closed his eyes. "Well... that shouldn't surprise me that she did. It's not like I expected her to keep it a secret or anything. That's just... the way it is, I suppose."

"You've... changed a lot Uesugi-kun."

"Huh?"

Itsuki looked off the corner of her eye. "I don't know why I thought it would be appropriate to ask about any of... that kind of stuff going on in your life, but if I did, I'd have figured you would have told me to just mind my own business. Again, I don't know why I'm asking you, but... if something is on your mind, I cant guarantee I'd be of any help, but I could at least hear you out. That is, if there isn't anything... then... well, then I guess..."

Her rambling was interrupted by an amused chuckle. "You're really awkward, you know that, Itsuki?" Fuutarou said.

"Excuse me for trying to be considerate!" Itsuki crossed her arms, looking away with a puff to her cheeks. "Whatever. If you say it's no big deal then it's no big deal. This will be the last time I try and—"

"Thanks, Itsuki," Fuutarou said. He still carried that amused smirk as when he had laughed at her, although, there was a strange resolution behind it. Like her words offered a brief respite over the troubles in his mind. "I mean it. It's kind of hard for me to talk about this kind of stuff, and I didn't know I was making it that obvious. The truth is... I don't know I should feel about it. Ichika and I have been dating for a few months now, and with her career and how fast things have been going... I should have expected something like this eventually. I just never knew when."

"Go ahead, Uesugi-kun."

It had all happened a little over the week before. Popularity had not only surged over the ingenuity of The Vermllion Riddle, but also for the young pink-haired actress making her grand debut. Followings had surfaced, and although it was small, fans of actress, Nakano Ichika, was steadily increasing. Number of search hits, view counts of older films, online discussion threads—all increasing as the days went on. Oda—being the ever so assiduous manager—had quickly seized the newfound opportunity, and had begun advising the eldest quintuplet over how to handle growing fame. And an interview was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to lay the foundation.

Public relations.

Namely, a public relations advisor. With his extensive connections across the industry, Oda had brought Ichika to one of his most trusted advisors, who in the past, had worked closely with renowned celebrities in the early stages of their career before they became the pop-culture titan they were today. Everything that Ichika now knew about interviews was thanks to their extensive sessions and advice. Little things from body language, to tone, to posture, and to technique. Ways to calm nervousness, tricks to sound more appealing, confidence to inspire support. Of course, Ichika was a natural through and through. The actress had perfected nearly every component there was to charisma, every word that would woo her viewers, and every gesture that embodied glamour and grace.

Almost everything.

An actress like Ichika was compelling in many different ways. Talented, charismatic, earnest, and beautiful in every single way. There were two sides of building public relations with fans—maintaining a good image and avoiding a bad one. When Ichika had answered that she was in fact actively engaged in a romantic relationship with someone, the professional advisor could only remark expectingly. Fans would not be too thrilled to learn that. Some would immediately lose interest. Idealistic and inspiring, yet not impossibly attainable, even if the chances were astronomically low, the perfect image of her should remain exactly that. Perfect.

"I'm not saying that you should go through with all of my advice," the advisor had said to Ichika. "But going off data and popular trends, it would be the best PR move, and best for your career, if you would strongly reconsider your private romantic relationships. Dating scandals are a harsh reality in this industry. Between relationships and careers, I've seen it end one or the other. Sometimes both. I know nobody wants to hear that, but that is just my advice to you."

There was not much else to be said following that final advice. All that Ichika could really do was closely tug the wool of her sweater, smiling that fake smile. "I understand," she had finally said. "I will remember your advice, and take it into consideration. Thank you for all of your help."

"...so in the end, you two still haven't resolved it?" Itsuki said after listening to his troubles. The look on her face carried mixed emotions, yet none of it could form to conclusive thoughts. "That's... I... I thought you two seemed pretty normal this morning, but I had no idea. Does that mean the two of you are..."

"No," Fuutarou cut her off. "There's just been a lot on Ichika's mind lately. This is a big night for her and for her career; I did not want to trouble her by adding more to it. We've just never had the chance to talk about what we should do. Before we knew it, tonight had already come." He was quiet for a moment, then straightened himself back. "Now come on. It looks like they're letting everyone back in. We should go before—"

"Uesugi-kun." There was not much Itsuki could think of saying at this moment. Nothing more than a few honest words. "You... don't have to always be so considerate. Not all the time."

"I don't understand what you mean, Itsuki. I already told you, I don't want—"

"What do you want to tell her, Uesugi-kun?" She gently tugged the cuff of the beige cardigan Fuutarou wore. Stitched virgin wool of the highest quality, far too expensive for his abstemious self, yet stubbornly gifted by the one he cherished most.

"You don't have to always wear it...", Ichika had told him on that brightly-lit night. The cold of the evening breeze that taunted the space between them, and the warmth of her smile that made it all go away. "...but whenever you see this, I want you to know that I always am thinking about you. Always."

He wanted Ichika to focus on her career. He wanted what was best for her dreams. And more than anything else, he selfishly wanted his own place at her side for every single moment.

"Would that be... alright?" Fuutarou muttered to himself, far too quiet for Itsuki to hear him. Yet, the look on his face said more than enough.

"Be honest with your feelings, Uesugi-kun. I'm sure it will reach Ichika."

Lights refocused center stage. In an all-out battle of charisma and chatter, the show had quickly resumed to its seamless pace. Four actors accompanied by a bashful director, and the energetic host that never failed to draw laughter from those who surrounded him. Before they had left off, Haga had expressed keen interest in the behind-the-scenes during the film's shooting. Stories of what had happened after the cameras stopped recording after a dramatic scene, the shared camaraderie that sprouted from strangers to colleagues, the silly bloopers that no one really gets to see.

"...actually, believe it or not, that part was improvised by Nagisa-san! I was just so inspired by it that I thought we should keep it in the final product..."

"...and Yuuma-san had forgotten to tell us he was allergic to shrimp! We had to stop shooting and rush him to the..."

"...we would meet up a few times after the day and go bowling and karaoke. Morioka was the most familiar with the area, so she brought us to some of the best places. I would love to go back and..."

"...we actually got a little scared of Nakano-san after the final shot of a certain scene with Charlotte. She just played it so well! Especially when —wait, I shouldn't be giving out any spoilers—but let's just say that we didn't go to any restaurants that served their entrees with a fork for the rest of that week..."

"...one time, during a scene during the middle of the movie, one of the special effect machines had a malfunction and it triggered the sprinklers. Thankfully, none of the equipment was damaged, but all of us were soaked. We were so close to finishing a key scene with Charlotte, and I would have hated it if Nakano-san caught a cold at such an important moment. I've got a pretty good immune system, so I ran all the way to my car in the parking lot to get her my coat. You remember that, Nakano-san?"

"...oh, of course I remember that, Yuuma-san. It was really sweet of you..."

"You know, I'm sensing a bit of chemistry here between the two of you here," Haga said after yet another cordial story between the actors.. "The other two weren't kidding; the two of you look like you get along really well."

"Told you," Nagisa commented, "those two were practically inseparable during the film. They're both the youngest, so it makes sense that we'd catch them goofing off a bit before the cameras started rolling again."

"Not youngest by that much, Nagisa-san," replied Morioka. "It was more like Yuuma-san was distracting her, anyways. He's always been a bit of a goofball whenever he's on the set and it's even distracted me a couple of times."

"You're being mean, Morioka-san," Yuuma whined. "I take my work very seriously, I'll have you know! But, you know, it is kind of true though. I've been really inspired by Nakano-san's talent, I even jokingly mentioned that the two of us should go on a date sometime, but Nakano-san never gave me a straight answer."

"Oh you have?" Haga curiously leaned from the sides of his desk. He knew what parts made for a bit of teasing and a little light banter, and nothing seemed as interesting right now then a little mischief. "Nakano-san, is that true? You would turn down such a handsome gentleman. What is it? Is it his hair? Too scruffy?"

To some, the thought of these two dating would not come off as a surprise. Like Ichika, Yuuma Misao was an aspiring young actor, a little under three years her senior, with his own smaller accomplishments in the field. A strong charismatic presence was no unfamiliarity between actors, and Yuuma had gained his own following that praised his good looks and playful, fun-loving personality. Rumor had it that his cousin was a famous actress, and he had received special training among the best of the best.

"Oh no, it's not that." Ichika laughed. "Yuuma-san is definitely a handsome man. Don't worry."

"I don't mean to pry too much into her private life.," Yuuma commented. "It was all in good fun."

"Don't lie now, Yuuma-san," Morioka said. "We all know how much you were dying to take Nakano-san out on a date. You even got on your knees at one point, and wouldn't stop until you got a yes or a no."

"What's wrong with that? I thought at least Nakano-san would tell me if she had a boyfriend or not! Is that too much to ask?"

"There it is," Nagisa said with a chuckle. "Is it that suprising to find out that your pretty boy charms don't work on everybody? Maybe it's time to give up on Nakano-san."

"Oh come on now, you heard her admit that I was handsome, right?" He flashed a smile. "That means I have at least a bit of a chance, right? We all haven't gotten together as much after we finished filming, so I never got the chance to ask Nakano-san. What do I need to fix? What do I need to do to get you to go on a date with me?"

Ichika forced a smile. She had forgotten that tact was not something that was shared between all actors and actresses, especially not to fellow newbies like herself. She could not blame it entirely on Yuuma though. Not all had the luxury like her to have been professionally consulted. Someone like Yuuma Misao—who relied a lot on his overwhelming confidence—might have a bit of trouble drawing that line.

But what was she to say? The time she had spent with the public relations advisor had always hung in the back of her mind since that day. Being an actress had always been her dream, and of course, she had lived every day of her life working as hard as she could. At some point in her life, she would have thought of this to be an easy decision. It probably would have been simpler to drop out of school, to focus on pursuing her acting career, and to keep telling lies.

And she hated every second of every thought of it. Every last one.

"It's not you at all, Yuuma-san..."

It could be something simple. Like she had rehearsed before, she thought. Deny to answer. Dodge the question. She could say something along the lines of, "I've just decided to pursue my true love—acting. I don't think I have time to dedicate myself to a relationship."

Would that not be another lie? Should it even matter to an actress, whose forte was her ability to uphold a convincing facade? Surely, there would be no trouble in saying that.

And that would only be lying to herself.

She would be lying to the love she felt from Fuutarou, no matter how distant they may be. She would betray that turbulent beating of her own heart that came whenever she saw the one she loved. What sort of face would Fuutarou be making right now? Would he smile, placing a gentle hand over her head, telling her to stay true to her dreams, and to march forward without any regrets?

What reason was there for her to hesitate? The answer was obvious.

To the longing feelings inside of her, too exhausted to tell anymore lies. To the one person who held her heart and her pride. To their blissful lives, and to hell with anything after that.

"...it's because I'm happily in a relationship with someone I love very, very much." Ichika poorly covered the enamored smile on her face with her fingers. A single moment of lovestruck innocence, followed by blushed confidence as the proud actress continued, "...and every moment I'm with him fills my heart with so much joy. I couldn't ask for anyone better."

Chapter Text

Warmth of autumn's glow spread across the branches overhead. Gilded leaves strew about the wide campus grounds, brushed and crushed under the passing heels of roaming students. In the disquieting routines that made for a university student's life, it always felt like a shame that one could not always spend the time to loll around the autumn air. To bask in sunlight that was neither too temperate nor too cold, but just rightly so.

Times like this would remind the daydreaming student just how subtly the days had managed to slip by him. Autumn had come before he knew it, and Fuutarou had only a modest reminiscence of the past six months he had spent in this big city. As much as he did not want to admit it, his experiences so far could be summed up to one of these three locations—his apartment, his school, and the nearby bakery where he worked part time. Not as exciting as many his own age would anticipate, but old habits die hard for the young adult. And besides, he did not make it this far to simply goof off, whether it be in grade school or college.

Not like the small huddle of giggling students nearing him, anyway.

"Sorry, I'm actually meeting up with a friend," the voice at the front said. "We can pick this up later, okay?"

"But Takeda!" one of the female students clung on to his arm. "You promised that we'd study together. Finals are soon, and there is so much we could cover."

"I know, I know. And I'm terribly sorry. But I promise you that we'll arrange a study date together, alright?"

"But when?" Another student continued, flattening her palms against each other. "I don't want to be pushy or anything but... physics is brutal! And the professor is known to fail so many people! You're obviously the smartest person in lecture; you just have to help us! Please!"

Takeda brushed aside the comment with a modest laugh. "Well I don't know about that, but... you know what? Let's arrange something right now. How does Thursday, around this time sound to everyone?"

Fuutarou turned away with a slight roll to his eyes. He propped his arm over his crossed leg, leisurely reading his notes as he waited for the nearby conversation to die off. They stood in one of the main campus's plaza, a short couple of steps outside of Tokyo University's Faculty of Science building. Dribbles of the nearby fountain and the brush of scattered leaves surrounded him, as one by one, the closely-following admirers of his friend had made for their separate ways, content in whatever compromise they had made.

"Someone sure is popular," Fuutarou remarked as he nonchalantly turned to the next page of his handwritten notes. "Sure you can spare the time for physics, Takeda? We both know you fall a little short when it comes to biology."

"Oh ho? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were teasing me, Uesugi-kun." Takeda strolled over to Fuutarou's bench, taking a seat. "As expected from my rival, though. You know my weaknesses well."

"Only because you always complain about it. Who were those girls, anyway? Were they from our lecture?"

"Uesugi-kun. It's been an entire semester now and you still don't know the faces of your own classmates? Shame, Uesugi-kun. Shame."

Again, Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "We're not in high school anymore, Takeda. Lecture halls have like what, over a hundred students in there."

"When it comes to you, it wouldn't matter if it were a hundred students or ten students; you still wouldn't pay them any mind. That's just the kind of aloof person you are, Uesugi-kun." A flutter of his eyelashes accompanied his playful wink. "Yeah?"

"Better aloof than obnoxiously dazzling," Fuutarou dryly retorted. "You looked like you were trying your hardest to dodge out of a study session. It'd be a lot easier for you if you just turned them down and be done with it. Though, I suppose it wouldn't look good for the campus pretty boy to disappoint his fans."

Takeda fanned the air over his nose. "More like, they know my family has connections in the medical field. Some hardly bother to be subtle about it anymore. And you're one to talk about popularity, Uesugi-kun. Not many can brag about getting five beautiful, identical quintuplet sisters to fall head over heels for them."

"You know it was not like that, and you definitely know I wouldn't brag about it, even if it were true."

Takeda laughed. "Come now, you know I'm joking, Uesugi. Yeah?"

The two tiredly leaned back on the bench, passing by a moment of silence among the motion of campus. Weight of the last few weeks had slowly fatigued them, and like all students, could only wish it would all be over soon. "Was that your last class for the day, Takeda?"

"Yeah. Same for you?"

Fuutarou nodded. "And so it is; another day closer to final exams."

"Feeling nervous? I'll admit, it's a little scary to think about, but I'm confident enough. Math and physics are in the bag. What are your plans after the semester is finally over?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous. But yeah, I think I got it all pretty much nailed down. And as for after the semester... well, I'm not too sure yet. Maybe go full time for a while at my job, but first I should find some time off to go visit Pops and Raiha. After that, I think it wouldn't be a bad idea to get a head start on some of next semester's classes. I've heard that integrated sciences can really be a—"

He was cut off by a sudden finger appearing in front of his lips, wagging impatiently. "Ah, I've heard enough! Uesugi-kun, must you always talk about studying like that all the time? Tell me something else you'll be up to during our break. You know? Like something fun, yeah?"

"Something fun?"

"Oh come now. Something like... ah!" Takeda snapped his fingers. "Like a date, for example! You mentioned the other day that Itsuka-san was finally going to pay you a visit after finals? The day should be coming up soon, no?"

"Again, Takeda, the one I'm dating is named Ichika. Ich-i-ka. None of them have that name."

"Oh come on, I was close enough. There are five of them and they're all nearly identical, but that is besides the point."

"Yeah, I know." Fuutarou leaned back, watching the slowly wavering leaves overhead. "Ichika and I promised we'd have a whole day together with just us. With everything always being so busy and all, we hardly had the time. Now, over two months have passed since we last saw each other, which was when she came here for her interview."

"I remember that! I saw it the night it was airing." Takeda enthusiastically sat upright, clasping his hands together as if he were a hopeless romantic. "Ah, to be young and in love, am I right? To think, Nakano-san would proudly gush about her love for her boyfriend on live TV! The distance between you two... the longing for one another... it's enough to melt your heart, wouldn't you say?"

To Takeda's surprise, Fuutarou had responded with a conflicted sigh. "That's just the thing," Fuutarou said. "I want to make it up to Ichika somehow. Pulling something like that went against what her career advisor had laid out for her. To be honest, I still find the whole thing to be a little crazy. And I can't help but think I'm to blame for her doing something so risky."

"But!" Takeda quickly remarked. "How did hearing all of that make you feel, Uesugi-kun?"

Fuutarou gave a weird look. "How did it make me feel?"

"Mhm. Isn't that what's really important?"

There was a short pause on Fuutarou's face. For something so simple, it almost felt embarrassing for him to realize. "...happy, to be honest. I didn't realize it until I got home that night, but the muscles on face were a little sore." He gingerly touched the edge of his cheekbones, savoring the memory of that evening. "I had the stupidest smile on my face the whole damn night."

"Then you understand why Nakano-san did that, plain and simple! Now then, what's really on your mind, Uesugi-kun? You're looking a little more troubled than usual. Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, that's the main reason why I asked to meet up." Fuutarou leaned his back against the seat, letting his head hang. "Like I said earlier, I wanted to make it up to Ichika somehow. I got in touch with her sister. Things have been a little... bumpy with her job lately."

"How so?"

It was only a few days ago. Fuutarou stood out on the balcony of his studio apartment, looking over the dimly-lit Tokyo streets. The passing breeze gently let him collect his thoughts.

"...you think so too?" the voice on the phone said. "I don't want to jump to conclusions or anything. Has she said anything to you at all?"

"No, she hasn't," replied Fuutarou. "Everything seems fine when we talk on the phone, but lately, things just feel a little... off with her. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, so I figured I'd ask you for advice. Whether or not I'm just overreacting over nothing."

"I don't blame you, Fuu-kun." Nino sighed over the phone. "She's always been like this. Ichika is the hardest for any of us to read. Even if we're all quintuplets, she tries her hardest to keep up the older sister role. She'll notice right away if something is bothering us, but the same can't be said when it comes to us. It's like she doesn't have any flaws."

"I see... so Ichika doesn't normally disclose that kind of stuff to you guys."

"None that I can remember, and believe me, I've tried." Hints of her frustration came with the last words. "I mean, it took us months to find out she was even working as an actress! We even knew Ichika had been disappearing in and out of the house, and none of us could even guess it. How could you even hide something like that for so long?"

"Hmm... you're right. She really is private, huh?" Fuutarou looked far off into the distance. "So, what's it like with her back at home? Since you're answering the way you are, I'm guessing you're picking up on it as well?"

There was a short pause before Nino replied, "...yeah. We all are starting to get the idea that something is up with her. This is the longest Ichika has been home. Don't get me wrong, I wish she was home all the time, but not like this..."

Fuutarou clicked his teeth. It was just like he had feared.

With Nino's help, the two of them had dove into extensive research across the internet. Social media, news articles, blogs. To the public, the aspiring actress, Nakano Ichika had steadily grown following the appearance of her first acting roles in film. From the lowest budget indie films, to minuscule roles, to minor side characters. Slowly, but steadily, Nakano Ichika had been building a name for herself.

A once-in-a-lifetime-shot, as Oda, Ichika's manager, had excessively—more so worriedly—stressed. Ichika had mentioned before, that on the days leading up to the interview, Oda had left no stone unturned. With the correct moves, and a little bit of luck, Ichika could make a tremendous leap in her acting career. More followers, more fans, more acting gigs. Her big break.

At least, that was the plan. From their extensive research across the web, Nino and Fuutarou had found out a few things. Firstly, and not surprisingly, were the anonymous fans that were... less than thrilled to discover that a new favorite already had a special someone in their lives. As her public relations advisor had previously admonished, some dedicated fans tend to idolize their favorite celebrities. The line between admiration and possessiveness sometimes gets blurry, and the overall appeal of the actress could suffer as a result.

Next was growth of popularity. As someone who had garnered the most respect for their performance, Nakano Ichika had earned a few more discussion topics across forums and posts. Talent was nothing the young actress was short of, and credit was where credit was due. Though, as The Vermilion Riddle's popularity would eventually taper as the months went on, and new film releases would take their own turn in the spotlight, all topics about her performance would have already been exhausted.

"...she's been sleeping in a lot more these days," Nino continued. "And she seems a lot more distracted, a lot more private about her work. More than what we've come to expect, anyways. We've tried asking her about it, but she insists everything is just fine."

"She hasn't mentioned anything about it to me either," Fuutarou replied. "She brushes it off whenever I ask her. But you could already tell. Her last couple of roles have been... minor. Like the ones she took back in high school."

"I just don't understand... if that's what's bothering her, then why won't she tell us? Doesn't she trust us?"

"She's just... too proud, if I were to guess. Especially with how good things were looking before. More time at home... a slower work schedule... not even Ichika could hide it, and it's starting to wear her down."

Stagnation.

Slowness in her professional growth. Crawling popularity—still growing, but nowhere near its full potential. Compared to her co-stars, Ichika had fallen a bit short when it came to follow up acting jobs. Morioka Misako, who had played the lead of Natalia Rustfield, had landed another lead in a drama. Both Nagisa Tarou and Yuuma Misao had been invited to audition for a handful of male leads and supporting characters, with Nagisa having a few larger name studios thrown into the mix.

Popularity admittedly had its place when it came to casting roles. An actress as young as Nakano Ichika would in turn attract a younger audience, and young people had their ways of gathering information quickly. Between casting two actresses, it made more sense to go with the more popular choice. With only one major success of a film on her resume, it might have been too soon for Ichika to pursue the larger roles that her manager had anticipated.

"Oda-san had thought that they could use the interview to propel her to larger studios," Fuutarou continued. "If everything went well, then her popularity should have skyrocketed by now. Ichika should have overtaken her colleagues. All things considered, that's the way it should have been. Oda-san is a good manager; he wasn't wrong in his calculations. The problem is..."

"Fuu-kun, are you thinking that..."

"Yeah. It's because of what Ichika had said. About me. About us." He leaned on the railings of the balcony. The back of his knuckle tapped repeatedly against his forehead. "Damn... I don't know what I should do. I feel like it's all my fault."

There was another short silence in their conversation. Enough for the contemplative breeze to pass his lonely balcony, as Fuutarou slowly shook his head. "To an actress, a move like that wouldn't be far off from career suicide. I wouldn't blame her if she regrets doing any of—"

"Snap out of it, you idiot!" The sudden tone from the other end of the phone had almost made him drop his phone off the balcony. "What do you think you're saying? No way Ichika would regret doing something like that. And if you think so, then you're a lot more cowardly than I thought. What happened to that cool, smooth guy who snatched me away on a motorcycle, right in front of my own father, huh?"

"That... that was..."

"Ugh! That's not the point." Nino quickly shook her head, shooing away the over-welcoming memory that had caught her by surprise. Why was she thinking of that now? "Point is, these things happen. It's nobody's fault. Rather than moping around and blaming yourself, shouldn't you think about preparing the perfect date for Ichika? She's coming there soon for work, right?"

"A perfect date? Like what?"

"How should I know?! Think of something! Something to help take her mind off of things. Let her relax a bit. If you start wavering, then she's sure to pick up on it too. Promise me, got it?"

"I... I, uhm..."

"Coming, Yotsuba! Hold on a sec!" Nino quickly turned back to the phone. "Look, you better promise me, got it?"

"Ah, I see." Takeda pinched his chin, quickly nodding with every bit of digested information. "So, you want to make this date something memorable? To help Ichika-san take her mind off of work?"

"More or less. Figured that since you have no problems shamelessly dazzling women, you might know a thing or two about taking them out on a good date."

"For your sake, I'll take that as a compliment. Since you're opening up to me more." Takeda smiled. "I might know some spots in Tokyo that could work for you. Or perhaps the two of us can go exploring a little on our own. Like a practice date! That is, if Ichika-san doesn't mind me borrowing you for a bit." He playfully winked. "Interested?"

A light chuckle slipped from Fuutarou's mouth. "I really appreciate you going out of your way for me, Takeda."

"Nonsense! Isn't that what friends are for?" His jubilant friend quickly stood from his seat. "But first, we got something else on our hands, don't we? Finals are only a couple of days away."

"Right." Fuutarou nodded. "We got a lot of stuff to cover. Want to start with biology? It's one of the first ones we have. How are you feeling about it?"

"Biology isn't exactly... well, it's good but I'll admit it could always be better." Takeda shook his head. "At least, it's expected to be better when your mother is a well-renowned doctor. But what can I say?" Takeda looked high above to the fall leaves, shielding the small rays of the sun with hand over his eyes. "I have my sights set elsewhere."

"That reminds me. You ever confronted your father about the whole 'wanting to become an astronaut' deal? That ever work out?"

"It's a... work in progress." Takeda nervously chuckled.

"You'll have to do it sometime, you know. You're already enrolled in the program."

"I know, I know..." He scratched the back of his head as the two continued down the campus.

As much as Fuutarou had anticipated the day of their date to come, he shamefully could admit that the few extra days had worked out in his favor. Between the sheer brutality that was his first semester's final exams, and the painstaking trips he took with Takeda exploring the hot spots of Tokyo city, Fuutarou had never felt more exhausted in his entire life. Though, that would only be true if he had forgotten the national mock exams he had taken back in high school. He would do better than to make a habit out of anything like that again.

"Fuutarou-kun!"

One look to that wide, spirited smile on Ichika's face felt enough to make him forget his fatigue entirely. Like missing pieces that encompassed everything that made him a man, the dark-haired city boy felt as if he had suddenly been recharged the moment they embraced. And again, that light, whimsical air that trailed from her perfume. And once more, that familiar peachy gloss to her lips, leaving its mark on his cheek.

Her arms were still wrapped around his neck as the gentle look in her eyes met his. "I've missed you a lot, Fuutarou-kun."

"Missed you too, Ichika." Fuutarou returned a smile and they let go.

"Hey! You're looking pretty stylish there. Did you go through all that trouble just for me?"

Dressed on the college student was an off-white slim button-down long sleeve with a gray overcoat and a dark gray cashmere scarf. He wore slim, dark tan jeans that trailed down to dark brown shoes. Now, Ichika wondered, was it simply just an update to his wardrobe that made him look that much more desirable, or was Fuutarou looking a lot more physically fit?

"You beat me to it; I was just about to compliment you." He did not shy his gaze, lovingly observing the woman in front of him until the look in her eyes turned bashful. On the young actress's person was a mauve blouse that split at the neckline, revealing her bare shoulders which she tucked into her gray fitted tartan midi skirt. Slipping off her shoulders was a grayish-blueish trench coat. Around the woman's neck, she wore a ruffled wine-colored choker. "You look wonderful, Ichika."

She widely grinned, the rose of her cheeks ever so slightly glowing brighter. "I know I do, but I wouldn't turn down a compliment. Miku and Yotsuba were right though—your new look fits you well"

"Thanks." Fuutarou chuckled. "You've been doing alright?"

"Just fine, and even better now, knowing that you're all mine for the entire day, Fuutarou-kun." The last of her words followed a playful cadence, as the pink-haired girl confidently winked. "You won't be getting rid of me that easily."

"You keep taking the words right out of my mouth," he replied without hesitation, and reached for Ichika's hand. His fingers laced their way between hers as he pulled her along. "Now come on. If your job only lets me have you for today, then I wouldn't want to waste it standing around here."

"Oh? You've got something exciting planned for us? You're looking pretty eager there." The smirk on her face grew even wider as she followed his lead. Her eyes narrowed to the hands that held onto her thin wrists, as she blithely continued, "And you've learned to be a little more forceful with me too, Fuutarou-kun. How scary."

Fuutarou looked away, not wanting to acknowledge her little tease, but he knew that sort of reaction was exactly what Ichika wanted.

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Ichika as they now walked side by side. "My father says that he extends his regards to you. What does he mean by that? Did you two have a talk or something?"

Something of an abrupt cough and a sputter slipped from Fuutarou's lips. "W-w-who knows? Sounds like a normal greeting to me, haha. You can tell him that I said... likewise."

Ichika raised a brow, but to Fuutarou's relief, did not question it any further. There were not much more words that Fuutarou had recalled after the initial conversation with Nakano Maruo during Ichika's interview. In a way, silence from the dead-eyed father could be seen as more of a good thing, but that may as well be wishful thinking on Fuutarou's part.

Regardless, after a bit of a walk from their station, the two found themselves facing the first point of interest Fuutarou had planned. A large, block-like building that seemingly further extended underground. When they first passed through the wide corridor that signaled the building's entrance, the sudden brush of air colder than the autumn breeze welcomed them. The walls transitioned to darker hues, illuminated by fluorescent lights and the shimmer of a water's surface reflected in the atmosphere. Structures of sea creatures, ocean environments, and nautical subjects decorated the spacious chambers.

First stop of their day together in Tokyo—an aquarium.

Dawdling her footsteps, Ichika spared every moment in wonder, taking in the sights and sounds of the marine utopia. Pathways, stairways, and tunnels split into all directions, each more curious than the last. "Whoa... Not bad, not bad. You picked a nice spot."

"Found this place with Takeda's help," replied Fuutarou. "First time inside though. It's a whole lot bigger than I thought; just take a look at the directory here. Where did you want to go first?"

"Let's see... ah! How about here?"

Aimless in their amusement, the two lovers loosely made their way from one marine exhibit to the next. There were interactive exhibits that allowed visitors to touch and hold various types of aquatic life and plants. There were educational displays—which Fuutarou took a keen interest in—that illustrated the different anatomies and habitats of ocean creatures. They stepped across illusionary underwater tunnels, encompassed by swimming fish and wavy waters, that lead to darkened rooms.

Iridescent baubles adorned the overhead space of the darkened room they now stood in, as Ichika and Fuutarou stood on opposite sides of one of the clear, cylindrical exhibits. Slow shifts of colored lights dimly illuminated their faces as they orbited the free-flowing jellyfish between them. Chrysaora fuscescens, as named on the nearby plaque. Their tentacles trailed like loose strands of hair, slowly swaying back and forth with every beat of its umbrella-shaped bell.

Lost and somewhat absent-minded amidst the allure of the tiny creatures, both Fuutarou and Ichika had coincidentally found themselves looking into the eyes of the other, as a cluster of jellyfish parted to reveal the other's face at the opposite end.

"Oh!" The initially surprised look on Ichika's face had soon turned to a cheery laugh. "Hi there, Fuutarou-kun!"

That smile was worth any trouble he had to go through to get her here, and the dark-haired boy returned a light wave from behind the glass.

Before their trip to the aquarium became too long of a stay, Fuutarou had one last section he wanted the two of them to visit. "I'll be holding onto this, though," he said, swiping the print-out map from her hands.

"Where are we going?" Ichika asked.

"You'll see. Now, no more questions."

Undoubtedly, a few hours was nowhere near enough to explore the expansive interiors of the large aquarium and its exhibits. A bit of aimless wandering made for enough of a fulfilling time that the average visitor would want to return again someday, but luckily for Fuutarou, he had done a small bit of research beforehand. The large upward stairway they had past earlier in the main lobby had led to an entirely different sector of the aquarium. A building separated by a bridge that looked as if it had been constructed some years later when compared to the main building. If one would guess, it would have to be to accommodate to more special types of animals.

There, gently meandering along the surface of the water and flopped on the artificial rocky landscapes were large, bulky creatures with muddy-brown skin that trailed to palish-pink towards their bellies. One long yawn boasted the magnitude of their enormous muzzle and jaw, as the tonne-sized beasts lumbered around on their stubby legs.

"A hippo!" Ichika tightly held onto the rails that overlooked the enclosure. If her fascination from the earlier exhibits were of her being awestruck, then the look on her face now was that of child-like wonder, severely contrasting the cool and mature older sister one would expect from her. Never had Fuutarou seen Ichika hold a face like that for so long with her eyes glistening wide and mouth held agape.

"They're your favorite, right?" Fuutarou caught up beside her.

"You knew?"

"I might have gotten a tip from someone we know. Won't spill who, though." Fuutarou leaned across the railing, taking a long look at the barrel-shaped, tubby creatures wading through the water. Vacant of any form of grace or charm, the hippopotamus did not exactly strike him as the most lovable of creatures. "I'll admit I was surprised when I found out. Out of all animals, these are your favorite? Really?"

"Don't say that!" Like a protective mother to her young children, Ichika had returned a strict scowl. "How could you not think they're the cutest thing ever? Just look at them!"

Fuutarou chuckled. "Right. Sorry, sorry. Now come on, stand right over there. We'll get a nice picture that you can show to your sisters back home."

"Oh?" Almost as if it were instinct, the camera-ready actress had assumed a fetching pose following the quick brush and tuck of her hair. Poise that stretched from the tilt of her shoulders, to the turn of her elbows, and then to the slight bend to her hips. Another smile that Fuutarou could never get enough of, as that playful wink had found its way straight through the lens of his camera and into his heart. "How do I look?"

"I thought you already knew the answer to that," he teased, then clicked her picture onto his phone.

"Let's take one with you and me next. Come on, don't be shy!"

After they had left the aquarium, the two had boarded public transport from a nearby bus stop. It was about midday, and Ichika was pleasantly surprised to know that Fuutarou had taken such consideration and thorough planning into the activities of their day. Though, if he were to ask her, simply being with him was more than what she could ever ask for.

Several minutes later, both of their necks tilted upward to spot the tip of the tall building in front of them. A lattice tower, stretching over three-hundred meters in height, and bearing striking resemblance to that of the Eiffel tower in Paris. A four-story building laid directly underneath the building, accommodating to the expected museum, restaurants, and gift shops. For any date between two young lovers though, the main attraction was the elevator that ascended to the observation decks high into the sky.

Second stop of their day together in Tokyo—the famous Tokyo Tower.

"Tokyo tower!" Ichika exclaimed. "Wow, it looks so much bigger than on TV. I'm impressed. You picked quite a romantic spot, didn't you?"

"Thought it'd be something you'd like," replied Fuutarou. "You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

"Would you like it if I answered 'yes', so that I can have an excuse to cling onto you the whole time?" Without waiting for a reply, Ichika had slipped her arms between his, pressing his arm firmly against her chest. Her eyes looked up into his, admiring the unsuspected, flustered look on his face. Try as he might, there was no avoiding making that kind of reaction as Ichika happily giggled. "Joking! As if I needed an excuse."

After paying their admission and ascending the elevator of the observation tower, the two of them strolled into the main observatory deck. A circular building at one-hundred and fifty meters above ground, composed of guided walkways and large windows that curved around the arc of the building. From this tall perch, they could view the breath of a living city, as cars and citizens moved underneath. They could see the defined shapes of the freshly cut grass to parks, the idyllic cluster of treetops, the sun-reflected waters water of the distant canals, the licorice-like bend of the highway, and the staggered rise of skyscrapers, as both of their noses neared the glass.

"Whoa..." they both exhaled, wide-eyed and breath-taken. It was a whole new perspective of the grand scale of Tokyo city, and how little they seemed in comparison.

"Things really do look a lot different all the way up here," Fuutarou commented.

"Notice any place familiar?" Ichika asked. "Think you can see your place from here?

Fuutarou thought a moment. "Hmm... no, nothing. Don't think I've been to this side of the city all that much, maybe if we were to look from this angle..." he squinted against the window. "Oh! Right over there. I think that is... yeah, I think that's the part of the city where Tokyo U is. I recognize some of the buildings, and if that one is there, then that means campus shouldn't be too far... there!" He pointed to the arbitrary point on the window and Ichika did her best to pinpoint just where he was looking.

"Where?"

"See that white square building over there? Next to that park over there, that's the entrance to campus. And if you follow the road to the left, my apartment shouldn't be too far. Oh, then that means the bakery I work at should be—"

"Fuutarou-kun." Ichika laughed. "I wouldn't know where, even if you told me. Everything looks so tiny from up here and I can't recognize places I haven't been to, you know? I've only seen the outside of your apartment, and that was brief."

"Ha, you're right." Fuutarou leaned against the railing.

"Hey, what's your campus like? I'm curious."

"Tokyo U? It's... nice there, I would say. Campus is pretty huge and I got lost around a lot during my first couple of weeks. And there's a ton of students there. It almost feels like another city inside of the city, if that makes sense."

"Oh, I get it." Ichika leaned her elbow against the window stool, guiding her gaze to the random direction he had loosely pointed toward. "You've been having a lot of fun there, haven't you? Tokyo life treating you well, hmm?"

"You could say that. It's probably a little too late now to say everything is all a brand new experience. But... yeah, it's been a lot of fun. Really fun."

"I see." She smiled. To his surprise, Ichika had reached above him and patted him lovingly on the head, letting her fingers loosely slip between the strands of his hair. "Fuutarou-kun is all grown up now, huh? All mature and independent, look at you."

"I'm older than you, Ichika." He gave a quizzical look. "And what's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"Nothing, nothing. It just really made me think how so much has changed in only half a year." She leaned against the railings, letting her head slowly rest on Fuutarou's broad shoulders. "Hard to believe it's only been six months since we graduated high school, huh? I can't help but feel a little sentimental. Things just keep moving so fast." She peacefully closed her eyes. "I can tell. You're going to accomplish great things, Fuutarou-kun. That's just the kind of determined person you are."

"Ichika...?"

There was a delicate touch to her sentimental words, and Fuutarou could only be reminded of his earlier doubts. That was right. Besides this being a highly anticipated date with the one he cherished most, there was also that sense of worriment biting the back of his mind. What exactly troubled the mind of someone who was as put-together as Ichika? If he had never had the suspicion to begin with, would he still think that the woman in front of him had some things she kept bottled up inside?

"Hey, I want to see it." Ichika's words had interrupted his thoughts before he had the chance to speak further. The sound of her slow footsteps trailed behind her as she walked down the aisle, carrying a daydreaming voice. "Nino, Miku, and Itsuki seem to be having a lot of fun when they talk about school too. It makes me a little envious that I'm not able to attend and experience one."

With a light twirl of her heels and her arms held behind her back, Ichika turned to face him. "So... I think I'd like a chance to get to see your university campus. I want to see the place Fuutarou-kun studies, where he walks on the way to class, where he sits down when he's tired. All the little things that make me feel a little more familiar with where you are, in this chapter of your life."

She tilted her head curiously at him, forming a coveted look with the slight tilt to her brows. The calmed look in her eyes, inconsistent from the soft smile on her lips. "Can I?"

Third stop of their day together in Tokyo—the early autumn evening of Tokyo University's campus.

There was something strangely enigmatic about the fall campus. Familiar sights of gilded leaves adorned the pathways, the freshly cut grass that finely shaped its perimeter, and the rhythmic wave of the pole-hosted flags drifted along the passing breeze. However, as someone who had since become acquainted with these academic grounds, Fuutarou could not help but be met with an unfamiliar sensation.

It was quiet. Empty. Barely were there the constant motion of walking students and passing bikes. Doors that always seemed to be open were now shut and locked, the chairs inside neatly stacked above their tables. Posters that plastered the boards and windows were of events that were well past their appointed date.

Cold flavors of fall season coffee ran their way through a plastic straw, as Ichika observed yet another new sight. "I see, I see. So this is what a university is like... all of this? Wow, it's so huge."

"It's actually a whole lot bigger than that." Fuutarou added. Warmth of his pumpkin spice latte lingered on the brim of his cup as he took a long glance around him. "Weird seeing the place so empty, now that the semester is over. I'm used to seeing a lot more people around."

"Are we trespassing or something?"

"No, not really. There's no rules that say we can't be here, and Tokyo U still hosts fall quarter classes. Though, I don't know if any classes are in session at this time..."

"I'm surprised you're not enrolled, knowing you."

"I thought about it, but decided against it." Fuutarou pointed to a nearby building. "Over there is the Student Commons. It has an overpriced bookstore and an overpriced dining area that serves all kinds of overpriced food."

"Ha, I see that part of you hasn't changed at all. And that building over there?"

"That one? That's Administrations. Only went in there a couple of times to receive my student badge and go over some details about my scholarship, but there isn't anything else interesting to say besides that. Actually, I had my Film Studies class in the building behind it. You could see all the way to the pond from outside of the window."

"There's a whole pond on campus? No way. Just how big is this place?"

"Enough to easily get lost multiple times in a single day. I know that because I was that lost freshman who kept asking for directions."

Ichika took another sip of her coffee frappe. Lingering cold numbed her fingers and she switched sides with Fuutarou, locking her fingers in between his. "Hey, hey, let's go explore over there!"

"Ow! Your hands are like ice!" He tried to wriggle free but Ichika had already begun to pull him along. "Why'd you get an iced drink when it's so cold out?!"

For the next several minutes, the two lovers traversed the spacious and empty grounds of Tokyo University. As the university student had previously mentioned, getting lost in the large campus was not exactly a hard thing to accomplish. Buildings closed in together to form walled lanes, and paths diverged into more paths. All the while, Fuutarou had given his best recollection over the personal significance of each building and monument, as if he were some poorly trained tour guide. Whether it be the plaza that hosted special performances, the row that tabled clubs and societies on the first weeks of the semester, the general library that was practically the second home to students, or the particular spots he and Takeda would frequently meet up.

Through some twists and turns, the two lovers had found themselves standing in front of one building Fuutarou was quite familiar with. A blocky building painted white, with tall windows that reached across several floors. Tokyo University's Faculty of Science Building.

"I've had a lot of my classes in this building last semester." Fuutarou slowly walked up the familiar steps that lead to the entrance. "Takeda was in a couple of them too. We sat next to each other in lecture."

Ichika followed behind him, tucking her cold fingers into the pockets of her coat. "So they have whole buildings dedicated to different subjects? It's so tall; I don't even think my old elementary school was this big. And it's all just for lectures?"

"Yeah. That reminds me, you haven't seen what a lecture hall looks like, huh? It's a whole lot different from the traditional classroom..." Just as he finished his sentence, Fuutarou noticed a peculiar detail. "Hmm? The doors are still open. At this time?"

"Oh?" Ichika peered from behind his shoulder. "The lights are all on. Does that mean we can go inside?"

"It's probably the last of the lectures finishing up. I don't think it would hurt if we just went in. The worst they could do is ask us to leave."

"Well, that's all you had to say!" Ichika nudged him up the last couple of steps. "Come on, I'm not ready to finish up with this tour! Show me more."

They continued through the building, expecting to come across some sign of prohibition sooner or later, but both were surprised to have made it to the top floors of the building. Just as Fuutarou had suspected, indoor lights and faint murmurs had slipped through the cracks of the doors, indicating some form of occupancy within the lecture halls they had passed by. As they curiously continued upward, the sights and sounds grew dimmer, until the sudden flicker of the motion-sensor lights greeted them.

It was only the two of them past this point. Strolling past the large windows, the first illuminations of the streetlights below could be seen as the approaching dusk signaled the end of a long day. Though it was not part of his original plan, Fuutarou welcomed the idea of this private time between them. There would not be many occasions he could introduce Ichika to the setting that all of his hard work so far had led him to. It was hard to imagine a better place they would rather be.

Tumbles of two plastic bottles followed the press of a button. They had taken a short pause in front of a vending machine. "Here." Fuutarou tossed a bottle of green tea to the young actress who sat on a nearby chair. "Are your legs tired at all?"

"Thanks," Ichika said as she caught it. "And only a little, but it shouldn't be a problem. Good thing I decided not to wear heels today." She took a look around the empty corridors and closed doors as she slowly took a sip of her tea. "It's almost like we're sneaking around, huh? Imagine if they closed the doors and locked us in here. Wouldn't that be kind of exciting?"

"I don't need to imagine it," Fuutarou said. "Have you already forgotten what happened during second year camp? No thank you. Getting chewed out once was enough."

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to be locked in somewhere with a cute girl again? Hmm?" Ichika leaned over her knees, narrowing her eyes to a mischievous leer. "Especially now that you and I are this much closer? I'm really curious to find out if you were holding anything back when we were alone that time, Fuutarou-kun."

"You know what—why not?"

Without waiting for the response that accompanied the bewildered look on her face, Fuutarou had quickly seized her by the hand, pulling her to her feet, before marching her further down the empty halls.

"Wa-wa-wait a second!" Ichika said, almost spilling her bottled tea. It was difficult for her to keep up with his pace, clumsily tripping over her own steps. "Eh...EH?! I mean, I-I was joking, but if you're seriously considering it, don't you think we should—"

He ignored her rambling, instead taking note of the door plaques that they had passed. "I think I remember that it was somewhere over..."

Through a heavy door—somewhat hidden past a couple of hallways and turns—the rush of the outside air had blown past their hair. A flight of stairs twisted along the walls of a narrow corridor, and when they reached the top, Ichika and Fuutarou were met with a wide, empty floor underneath the evening sky. Metal fences bordered the brim, separating themselves from the bright city lights in the distance that gleamed like grounded stars.

"I overheard some students saying there was an unlocked door that led to the roof." Fuutarou cupped his hands over the warmth of his breaths. "It's nothing like the view from Tokyo Tower, but what do you think? The view up here isn't too bad either, right?"

Ichika placed a hand on the tall fence. "It's... pretty," she said, letting the sight snatch the rest of her breath from her lips. Short seconds had passed as they slowly admired the lifeblood of the nightly cityscape, and Ichika looked to Fuutarou. "You know... I wouldn't mind moving to Tokyo one day. It's... nice here. Would you ever want to stay here?"

"Stay here, huh..." Fuutarou tucked his hands into the coats of his pocket. For the short time he had already spent here, he had never given it much thought about what would happen after his time in college had come to an end. "I'm not sure. I always wanted to get my dad and Raiha out of that tiny apartment. But as for me..." He paused, looking far into the distance, then to the pink-haired girl that stood in front of it all. "Well, I don't think I'd ever get tired of this sight. I wouldn't mind calling this place home."

Ichika smiled at him. "I'd love it, actually. Especially if it were with you." She took another long glance at the city. "I think... it wouldn't be that bad. If the two of us got our own little place here. Maybe it could be a small apartment at first. We'd wake up to each other every morning, have breakfast and dinner together, cuddle and watch movies together. Of course I'd have to learn to tidy up a bit." She gave an empty laugh. "When things get a little... better."

"Better?" He raised a brow.

"Better with work." She turned around, leaning her back against the cold metal of the fence. It was difficult to see any stars overhead, as the heavy, dazzling lights of the city shrouded even the brightest of stars. "Maybe, if I can make a big enough name for myself, take on some bigger roles, and make enough money all on my own. Just like the other celebrities that live here. But who knows how long that will take, huh? It could take five, maybe ten, twenty years before I reach anywhere near that level. Who knows if I have the will in me to make it that far?"

"Ichika..." Fuutarou said. "What are you saying? You're an amazing actress. Sure, it will take time, but you're really giving it your all, aren't you? It's only been half a year, and you're already filming in Tokyo. Surely, that's progress. That's why we had this whole day together. Your schedule has been so busy that we only could—"

"Actually, today... isn't really a day off for me." Ichika halfheartedly chuckled. "Did you know? I already finished shooting. Yesterday was my last day on set."

"Wait... yesterday?" Fuutarou was taken aback. "That doesn't make any sense. You only started filming—"

"Last week?" Ichika finished, still carrying an empty laugh. "Yeah... I did. Turns out, the role was a lot smaller than what Oda-san and I thought. The scriptwriters thought my character needed a revision and scrapped a couple of lines. A lot, actually. Honestly, any random person could have done just fine. That's just how minor my part was."

She sighed, taking a long sip of her tea. "Passing stranger A. Ten seconds in a commercial. Naive girl who dies to the curse in the first fifteen minutes. And now, some groupie high schooler that follows around the main antagonist. Can't even be bothered to give her a full name either."

"It's... just a minor hiccup, Ichika. It's bound to happen sometimes, right? People were even raving about you during The Vermilion Riddle, weren't they?"

"And that was over two months ago," she added with a sigh. "It's old news now. I can't keep relying on one instance of good luck to keep moving forward. It took three months to shoot that movie pre-production. During that time, I was bouncing between two other acting roles, and it was probably some fluke that The Vermilion Riddle was the one that got so popular out of nowhere. Actresses need to keep themselves busy, you know? We need to keep moving on to bigger and better things to stay relevant. How else are they going to prove to people that they're worth something?"

"It couldn't have just been some fluke, Ichika," Fuutarou reassured. "It's not like you to say things like that."

"'Not like me', huh?" Ichika looked high above her. "I wonder what that really means. What is 'like me' to you? To my sisters, to my father, to Oda-san... and to me? What exactly have I been doing to end up right back where I started?"

"Hey, you're stepping over the line," Fuutarou sternly replied. "A lull shouldn't mean anything to you, Ichika. The 'you' that I know is someone who knows far better than that. It must be hard, and I might not know the first thing about what it takes to be an actor or actress, but the way you've always held your head high was what made you, 'you', Ichika. That's why it hurts to see you like this. Pretending like everything is okay, telling your sisters that nothing is wrong, and keeping your feelings all—"

"That's funny. I never told you anything about my sisters worrying about me."

Fuutarou stiffened his lips. Like two contradictory expressions—one, the smug smile of satisfaction that her intuition was right on the nose, and the other, an empty sort gaze, as if it hardly had any reason to be proud. The brush of her shoes against the concrete floor settled in front of him.

"Ha." She smiled. "Caught you."

He remained silent.

"I had a feeling it was something like that. Did Nino say something weird to you? Maybe Yotsuba? Itsuki or Miku?" Ichika slowly shook her head, not expecting an answer to that question. "Not that that really matters. But hey, tell me something, Fuutarou-kun—did you have fun during our little date?"

"Fun...?"

She slowly nodded. "You looked like... you were trying really hard. Too hard, Fuutarou-kun. Searching all over Tokyo for date spots, planning the perfect date, spending the whole day walking and talking... it did make me happy. Really, really happy." She slowly leaned her body against the tall walls of the rooftop. "It's not everyday we could be together like this, but..."

The apposed look on her face had met his shy gaze. "The whole day, you kept your eyes on me and only me. Not so much the hippos at the aquarium, or all of the sights on the tower despite the fact that you said it was your first time there. It was just... me. At first, I thought it was just you being shy, but the more I thought about it, the more it looked like you were... trying too hard. Like you were trying so hard to make sure I was having fun. Like you were prioritizing me over everything going on around you. Is that really what makes a date fun to you?"

Fuutarou held back. What more could he say? Even if it had not done so deliberately, all of it was true. That was something Ichika had perfected compared to him—perception. A keen eye and a sharp sense over the hearts and minds of those around her. The oldest of five identical sisters and an actress that knew a million words to a thousand faces. That was Nakano Ichika, and he felt himself tangled in that web of hers, the more those eyes narrowed onto him.

"Is the Ichika that you know someone who doesn't let people worry about her?" she continued. "Does she keep everything bottled up inside? Does she pretend to be so put-together in front of her sisters so that they could look up to her?"

Again, Ichika shook her head. "Maybe, you're right. It's all a lull, and maybe, things will get better. Maybe they won't. But the important thing is that big sis keeps going, right? Keep trying her best everyday." A short smile formed at her lips. "That's how I made it this far. And that's how you made it this far too, Fuutarou-kun. We try our hardest for those around us, but more importantly, for ourselves. So... you understand it too, right?"

She reached for the hand at his side, clutching it tightly. "You really do worry a lot, don't you, Fuutarou-kun? But I mean it; I'm fine. These kinds of things happen. I'll get over it."

"Fine," he said flatly, pressing his palm to the side of his neck. His head cocked to a compliant gesture, but the look on his face was far from convinced. "If that's what you say, then, I give up."

"Huh?" Ichika gave a blank stare.

"Trying to cheer you up. Helping you take your mind off of things, even when you didn't ask for it. Things like that. If four identical sisters can't read you, then there's no chance in hell that I'm going to either." He sighed. "Ah well. There's always another plan. Go on. I'll hear you out."

"Hu... huh?"

"I'm not a mind reader. I was never the best with people, so what makes me think I would be good at it now? So..." He faced toward Ichika. "Go on. Tell me everything and I will listen. And don't you hold anything back."

"I... don't quite follow," Ichika replied, perking one eyebrow.

"I'm saying that I'm your boyfriend, Ichika." As many times as Fuutarou had said it, the words still found a bit of trouble shamelessly leaving his mouth. He gently placed a hand over her head. "You can tell me anything and I will hardly judge you. You've always had a good head on your shoulders, Ichika, but even you can't always keep smiling while brushing every little thing that bothers you away. I'm... not the smartest when it comes down to stuff like other people's feelings, and sometimes, I need it spelled out right in front of me before I can understand. I can't understand if you won't tell me, so... just tell me, Ichika. There has to be some things that you shoulder all by yourself, right?"

"I... I don't know exactly what there is to say," Ichika hesitantly replied. "It's like I told you... there isn't—"

"Your career feels like it's hit a wall. Your popularity is stagnating. Your big shot at the interview did not go as well as you thought, and because of that, your last couple of acting gigs have pretty much regressed backed to being substandard and forgettable."

"Woooow." Ichika could only react with a hollow laugh. "You still haven't learned to be gentle with your words, huh?"

"So..." He ignored her as he stubbornly continued. "...while the whole world hardly knows the name 'Nakano Ichika'. While she's still some amateur-nobody-actress whose success so far has 'just been some fluke'—no one here will ever know. Everything you've kept inside—let it all our, right here." Slowly, Fuutarou walked past her, then wrapped his fingers against the cold bars of the rooftop fences. He turned beckoning her to stand once more before the bright Tokyo lights. "All the frustrations you put up with, everything that hardly seems fair. Kick, scream, vent, shout—whatever it is you need to blow off some steam. Right from the rooftops."

"That's... that's crazy, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika laughed again, this time in complete disbelief. "You're asking way too much from me. People will think we're a couple of delinquents disturbing the peace. It's unbecoming. It's..."

"For once just forget about keeping up appearances!" Fuutarou scolded, not once relenting. "It's not fair, right?! You've done nothing wrong! Forget those other spoiled, spoon-fed actors! They don't know a damn thing they're doing! Forget all those stupid comments online! None of it matters! Be someone else! Get angry! If you won't get upset over any of that—not a single one—then I will for you!"

He sharply drew in his breath, gripping tightly onto the metal bars of the fence.

"Fuutarou-kun!" Ichika reached for him. "Wait, wait! You don't have to—"

"It's all BULLSHIT!"

Those words, and those words alone, resounded onto the brightly lit campus below. Bullshit... Bullshit...

Bullshit!

Even if he was not the one who should be screaming from the rooftops, she felt every lasting bit of frustration, every guilty shred of envy, every raw emotion that mirrored her own perfectly.

In the distance, the evening-scheduled students had looked up from their phones, stopping curiously to glance at the misfit screaming from the rooftops.

"I... I can't... it's not..." Ichika clutched the fabric of her coat. What was this feeling inside of her? Like her head and her heart adhered to separate senses, or threw it all away entirely. It was boiling. Festering.

No, it always had been. She only knew how to just look away. Every little bit she had tucked in a place far away, pretending like it did not matter. Just like how she always had done it. It was easier that way, and every other feelings attached to it was just momentary nonsense. There was no absolutely no reason for Fuutarou to be doing this, but Ichika could not help but wonder—how could Fuutarou make it look so easy? How could he just stand there and make a fool of himself in public, like it was nothing?

The heave of his breath closely followed, as Fuutarou felt the passing breeze cool the sweat that dripped from his brow. Now that the moment had passed him, he was only left with the absurdity of his own thoughts. Just what was he doing? Was he more of an idiot than he thought? Was he some kind of lost, screeching buffoon?

Suddenly he heard the sound of running. He felt the collision of arms wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him for a moment while her nose buried into his back.

"You really are an idiot..." she muttered

Ichika sharply drew in her breath, holding it deep within her chest. Just once. Not for any cameras. Not with any rehearsed lines. Just this one time, she did not want to be herself.

"...and I am too," she muttered again, far too quiet for him to understand.

And suddenly, Ichika let go. She stood before the vast evening sky, gripping one hand tightly around the metal bar and the other cupped to the side of her mouth like a bullhorn, finally letting out those stifled word.

"AHHHHHH!" Bellowing, screaming, shouting, to the point where the words felt as if it came from a different person. "It's all BULLSHIT! FUCK ALL OF IT!"

Beside her, Fuutarou's eyes had grown wide. Even if he was the one who coerced the idea, vocabulary that vulgar and that obscene was perhaps one of the last things he had expected at all from her, that even he cautiously took a step back. When faced with a stubborn actress's fury, there was no place for him or his words, and all he could do was stand aside, quietly waiting for the livid storm to subside.

"It's not fair, right?!" Ichika shouted. "The auditions! The scheduling! The traveling! Outtake, retakes, outtakes, RETAKES! How many studios have I worked for that can't even get their damn SCHEDULE in order?! At least HIRE somebody to get your stuff straight, for crying out loud! I've woken up so early and stayed up so late, and for WHAT? ONE AND TWO-STAR MOVIES?! How many cheap horror knockoffs has it been now? And just WHO do you think you are, Director Maekawa?! Asking ME out on a DATE?! You're older than my FATHER! Even if your hairline was twenty years younger, there is NO chance in hell, you lecherous CREEP! And you, Oda-san! For just ONE day, can you just talk about anything else other than Kiku-chan?! ANYTHING?! She's cute and all that, but SERIOUSLY! Get a hobby or something!"

Everything was a fuse, and nothing was too small to escape her ire. Not even the unconditional love and accompanying bits of insanity that came with family. "And DAD! Would it KILL you to come visit more often? You didn't even say anything about my interview! Were you even paying attention?! Do you remember anything? And you, MIKU! I keep helping you taste test your cooking and I gained over two kilos! Two KILOS, so quickly! What are you putting in there?! And YOTSUBA! Can you ever wake up QUIETLY?! I can hear you all the way from my room! NINO! You STILL haven't returned my makeup palette yet! I don't care what you say, it is NOT lost in my room! I know you still have it! And ITSUKI-CHAN! I KNOW you still have that recording of me as Tamako-chan! You can't lie to me! I'm coming after you the MOMENT I get home! Onee-san loves you girls, but oh my GOD!"

"And YOU, Fuutarou-kun!" She pointed a finger directly in front of his nose. Bright red streaks formed from ear to ear and a trickle of sweat dripped from her brow. "You mention ONE word about this after tonight and I won't forgive you. Not now, not ever. I am not myself right now, okay?"

It did not take much thought for the astonished college student to know that there was only one right answer to that question. He need not say another word. A comforting smile gently laid on his lips as he watched the flustered youth settling in front of him.

"Hah..." The pounding in her chest had reached the loudest it had ever been. Right now, all she could think about was air and more air. "Huh...hah..."

"Feels good to get it all out, huh?" Fuutarou stood beside her. Now was not the time to be scared of his own girlfriend, but he would be lying to say that he had not cautiously thought about whether or not to place that arm around her shoulder. "Well? Do you at least—"

"And ANOTHER thing!" shouted Ichika, leaning her body as far as she could against the edge of the rooftop. "Who CARES if I have a boyfriend or not?! Who says an actress can't be in love too?! You hear me?! I'll say his name as many times as I want!"

Fuutarou froze. "Wait, wait, wait! Don't get too carried away! I go to this school—"

"I LOVE UESU—"

"HEY!" The bright shimmer of a flashlight blinded them as they glanced down. Two uniformed men, dressed in blue overalls and a blue cap were looking directly at them. "You two up there! What are you doing?!"

"F... Fuutarou-kun...?" Ichika took a nervous step back. "Are they... are those..."

His laughter came off as a trembling mess, hardly able to keep itself together. "Campus security. Ha... Looks like... they're still around during the fall quarter... Ha... haha..."

"I said," the voice of the campus officer called out to them, "what are you two doing up there?! Get down this instant!"

Fuutarou felt the tight grip of a hand suddenly tug him off the tiny stone step. "Fuutarou-kun." In front of him was a wide, flustered grin that no longer knew herself. "Let's run."

"Wait. Wait, wait w-w-wait! You aren't seriously sugge—"

"RUN!"

Before another thought had crossed his mind, the echoes of their quickened footsteps were bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. Footstep over stumbled footstep, the two delinquents descended down the tall shaft. Quicker. Quicker! Harsh twists and turns within the loop of the stairwell lead to clumsy collisions against the cool concrete walls. The closed door that they were passing marked the number six. A single floor's descent.

When they had reached two floors downward, the sound of heavy metal doors echoed upward. It was from the bottom floor. The uneven scan of an angled flashlight pointed towards them. "There they are!" The security guard called back out the door. "They're in here!"

"We'll run into them!" said Ichika.

"Through here!" Fuutarou shoved the nearby door with his back. Floor five.

"What are we going to do here?" Ichika closed the door behind them, pausing once for breath. "They'll catch up to us soon if we just stand here."

"There's another stairwell on the other side of the building. Let's go there!" He led the way, Ichika closely following behind him. Motion-sensor lights flickered further down the empty hallways as they stepped through. A few quick turns down adjacent corridors. A single moment or two to second-guess which way was correct. A drop of cold sweat as the abrupt sound of an opened door trailed from far behind them.

"They're up here already?!" Ichika looked back. "Are we on the other side yet?"

"It's up ahead! It's that door over th—"

"Ow!" Ichika cupped her nose with her fingertips. She had collided into the college boy's back. Motionless, stiffened. Hardly complying with their situation. "Why did you stop, Fuutarou-kun?"

Closely down the hallway, through the tiny glass window of the door that lead to the other stairwell, was the dim wave of a flashlight. The sound of distant pounds of footsteps climbing up, and the further footsteps that followed behind them. They were surrounded.

Fuutarou grabbed Ichika by her hand. "This way!" he called out. They turned the complete opposite direction.

"That's where we came from," said Ichika. "We'll get caught!"

"Classroom 513! 513!" Fuutarou quickly replied. He darted his eyes passed every wall plaque that was positioned beside every door. As familiar as these walls had been for the past half-year, the sudden fear of being caught had made him start to second-guess his memory. 518... 516... 514... 512...510 Wait! Had they already passed it? The classrooms on this side had counted down by even numbers. Classroom 513 should have been on the other—

"Here! 513" Ichika pulled him back as he nearly missed the turn. It took a good amount of her strength to pull back a man taller than her. She could barely ask the next question between her tired breath. "What...is... in here?"

"Lecture!" Fuutarou gripped the handle. He closed his eyes, pleading that it was not locked.

The two had quickly stepped into the room. It was spacious. Wide. Tall walls stretched past the corner of their vision, sloping further downward like the other side of a hill. Curved desks loomed over a center stage platform, tapering upward like a funnel. At the furthest wall was a wide, dry-erase white board, still scribbled and smudged with leftover formulas and diagrams of previously held classes. This familiar stage felt much like a theatre, capable of sitting dozens—perhaps over a hundred—students. Ichika wondered, was all of this really a classroom?

Of course, the curious woman had no such luxury to simply gawk in awe. Her eyes trailed down the aisle steps that split the desks into a left, middle, and right segment. Just like how it looked in a movie theatre. Due to the sheer size of the lecture theatre, the amount of vertical space it had taken was capable of taking up two whole floors. At the top where they had entered from, door 513. At the bottom, door 413.

"Nice work, Fuutarou-kun!" She quickly followed him down the aisle steps. Perhaps a little too quickly. That short lapse in excitement and judgment had slipped her heel against the edge of the platform steps that trailed down the aisle.

Before she could force anything other than a short yelp, Ichika felt a firm grasp prop her up from at her waist. The rest of her body went briefly limp, as if suspended at that precise moment she felt her most elated. "Careful, you klutz." The tender look in his golden eyes set down upon her.

Uneven throbs concentrated at her chest, but the only response she could make was the broken rhythm of her own breathing. Was he smiling just now? Why now—out of all times—was he making that kind of face?

Like practiced footwork abiding to the beat of a song, the misbehaved couple propped back to their feet. They were not out of this situation yet—not by a long shot. While the distant patters above them searched high and low, Fuutarou and Ichika had slipped their way into the fourth floor. Caution had already been tossed to the wind as Fuutarou and Ichika quickly took to the central stairway down the building.

Third floor.

Second floor.

Ground floor.

The long-desired coolness of an autumn evening received them once again. Finally, they had made it back to the front steps of the university building.

And they had only that short-lived moment to revel in.

"Hey!" Leaning from the side entrance of the building was a peering campus guard, most likely having just arrived and keeping watch of a possible side or back entrance escape. The last possibility on their mind was that the reported troublemakers would have walked right out the front door. "Stop right there! Identify yourselves!"

Without a word of compliance to each other, Fuutarou and Ichika had immediately returned to a sprint. Fuutarou had nudged Ichika to follow him as he took the lead. This was his campus, after all, and he had walked down these paths countless times already. If the flagpoles were over there, then that means where they were going, they were facing north. The soonest exist from campus was a bit of a ways north-west, but perhaps it would be safer to take a longer route.

Though, it was not too long after the first turns that Fuutarou found the back of the pink-haired woman in front of him. "You're slowing down!" Ichika called back. "Come on! It's not like I'm Yotsuba here; at least keep up with me!"

"I am... going..." Fuutarou huffed and huffed. "I am... going... to die..."

"Quit talking and keep running!" She reached for his wrist, forcibly dragging him along. For the meantime, forward was as good of an option as any to the clueless pink-haired woman. Anything that furthered the distance from the pursuing footsteps, which seemingly drew closer. "Which way do we go?"

"Le... left!"

Familiar sights and sounds had dissolved to a messy blur with every hastened step. The draw of the surrounding lights, pulled to brief streaks with each passing street lamp. Heels screeched to a halt, then quickly turned, the moment they caught a sign of a stray campus monitor. Pathways turned to alleys as they ducked in between their pursuers. Abrupt shifts in the wind rustled the trees and lifted the autumn leaves underneath them.

Motion. Constant, perpetual flow of their mischievous adolescence.

They crossed the outside of Tokyo University's campus. Just a little further, and by all accounts, the guards would most likely give up. Why would they bother outside their campus jurisdiction?

"Hah... Hah..."

The pounding in his chest had never felt louder than it did now. The rhythm of his breath had never felt more uneven.

"Ha... Huh... Ha..."

He only needed to concentrate on breathing. Careful strides, if only for a little longer. He had made it this far already.

"Ha... Hah... Ha ha...Ha!" The last sputter of his breath came out like a triumphant shout. "Hahaha! Aha haha!"

Ichika glanced back, but the pink-haired woman could hardly have made the expression on Fuutarou's face before he had overtaken her. He had overtaken her! She could hardly remember a moment they had spent not on their feet, and surely, Fuutarou would be the first to collapse between them. But what was this sudden rush of stamina that had completely overtaken him? What was that joyous, juvenile laughter that trailed behind him?

If she could find the strength to overtake him again, she would have found the widest, most foolish, and overjoyed smile stretched across his face.

They had nearly collapsed leaning against the stone wall and fences of a nearby residential crossroad. The glow of the streetlight from the tall metal fixture fell over them as they cautiously looked around. No signs of any of anyone. Quiet once more, save for the sound of their tired breath.

Ichika still held true to it. All this running, all of this mischief. It was unbecoming. It was the acts of good-for-nothing delinquents. Apologetic. Regretful. It was nothing like her.

And at the same time, it was thrilling. It was restless. It was temperamental. Forgiving. Indulging. All alike to her contradictory, hypocritical self.

The tips of her nails dug into the messy collar of her lover's shirt. Paranoid, exhausted, sore all over—she could not care any less. Let these impassioned desires of a roused mischief-maker snatch away what little breath he had managed to regain. Let him fight for those short gasps of air, and let her fight to not let either of them stray a muscle. Let the sweet peach taste of her lip gloss intoxicate this foolish lover of hers. Let them stay suspended just like this, until they finally gazed directly into the other's blushing face, panting desperately under the streetlight.

"Sorry, Fuutarou-kun..." A thin string of saliva broke apart between their lips, which Ichika messily wiped with the back of her palm. "...I... I'm... still not myself."

And suddenly, she felt her back press against the sides of the stone wall, trapped between Fuutarou's arms, close to her side. Gentle fingers caressed the sides of her face, not letting her look anywhere else. Burning, insatiable desire that reciprocated her own, reflected in that dim, golden glow in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, too, Ichika," Fuutarou said. "I... don't think I'm acting like myself, either."

They shared only a moment to stare lovingly in the other's eyes, not needing another sign before they continued. Again, that rough tug against the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in. Again, the short gasps for air that came with rushed confidence. The curl of her fingers as it dug through and pulled the back of his hair. Every sound that he made in between, and the accompanying, delighted response she muffled back. At any time, Ichika felt as if her tired legs would finally give way and collapse. And when they finally did, she could only close her eyes, letting her body fall into the arms that now tightly wrapped around her waist.

She switched both her grips to now tightly hold onto the front of his shirt like they were handles. Each moment suspended like this beckoned her to sink deeper. Her short yelps were stifled by her desire to not let go of his lips with hers. It was all him now. She wanted to see that overwhelmed face of his when he finally gave up. She wanted that clumsy, graceless fall with her back sliding against the wall, and him stumbling over her with his knees pressed onto the ground, as the gilded leaves crushed under their feet.

And hopefully, he would forgive her. Hopefully, he would take pity on this foolish woman—victim to the autumn mischief.

Chapter Text

Heavy clatters accompanied the slow roll of the mechanism overhead. With every heave and lift of the door, stray bits of sunlight seeped through the widening gaps and onto the old front. A large, rectangular window revealed ahead of them, covered from the inside with dull brown rosin paper stretched to all four corners. Once past the unlocked door, the first to greet its long-awaited visitors was the suffocating taste of dust and stale air.

"Are you two alright?" the young voice called after them. "Dad? Big Brother?"

"It's… fine—" Isanari loudly coughed, pulling the collar of his shirt over his mouth. "Don't step in yet, Raiha-chan. It's dusty in here. Whew, we really need to air this place out. Fuutarou, can you get something to prop open the door?"

Fuutarou attempted a reply, but could only muster an abrupt hack followed with a nod. He stepped into the dimly-lit room, taking one long look. Chairs covered with dull tablecloth were propped above the square tables, forgetful of the lively din of company. Empty shelves bordered the nearby and opposite walls, starved of the pleasant scents that once adorned its space. Cobwebs spun at the corners. The far reaches of the counter had become speckled with layers of dust, and the daydreaming boy could only remember that young, naive child that sat at the corner nearest to the wall, watching the backs of his parents as they traversed the hustle and bustle of the once lively bakery.

Drab, dusty and dishearteningly lonesome.

"Did you get something, Fuutarou?" Isanari said after him. "What's taking you?"

"Sorry! Hold on, I got something." He plucked one of the nearby chairs from the tables.

"Good, good…" Isanari nodded. With slow steps, the tall man paced the interior, drawing long gazes to the familiar sights, all the while carrying a wide grin on his face. "Alright, you two! Raiha-chan, Fuutarou, it's just about time for our routine maintenance. I'll take care of the things in the back."

"I'll check the kitchen," replied Fuutarou. "You have the keys, Dad?"

"Yeah, right over here."

"What should I do?" Raiha asked, eagerly stepping forward. "I can help!"

"You can stand right over here," Isanari said. "Flick the light switch on when I call out to you, and make sure it stays off when I tell you to. We need to make sure everything is okay with the circuit panel."

The wide-eyed girl attentively nodded. "Got it!"

Every year, the three members of the Uesugi household found themselves reacquainted with the old family bakery. Uesugi Bakery. A simple yet humble name, befitting of its humble owners. Together, they would undergo routinely maintenance surrounding the basic functionalities that operated the everyday store. They would need to ensure that the water pipes and drainage were correctly operational. They needed to confirm that the electricity was still functional across all appliances and fixtures. A careful eye had to be kept out for any signs of possible infestation that may have occurred during its long gaps of negligence.

And of course—for the sake of the woman whose dreams laid founded within these four walls—a bit of tidying up here and there.

Though it would be a long while before this humble bakery would once again open its doors, neither of them could hardly fathom a time where they would miss out on this special occasion. As busy as their lives could be, nothing took higher precedence—not even for the hectic schedule that made for a university student's life. Fuutarou's second semester had already started a few months ago, marking today as somewhere in the middle of the academic semester. A little over eight months since he had first set off for university.

"Water in the kitchen is okay!" Fuutarou called back. Creaky and partly rusted valves turned shut with the twist of his wrist.

"Great!" Isanari's loud voice echoed from the back room. "Raiha and I are done with this room. Raiha-chan, go see if Fuutarou needs help cleaning out the kitchen."

"Okay!" The sight of her tall, plume-like hair was the first thing Fuutarou saw as the young girl circled the tall counter and into the kitchen. "Hey, Big Bro! Dad told me to—"

"I heard." Fuutarou handed his little sister a disposable face mask. He was outfitted in a white apron with a floral design over his day clothes, with white cloth bandanna holding over his hair. "Here. Dust flies everywhere once we open the windows to air the place out. I can mop the floors, so do you think you can take those rags and spray bottle over there and clean the counter? Wait, what are you laughing at?"

"Nothing." His little sister giggled. "It's just that you look like a real housewife right now. It's a good look on you, Big Bro."

"Funny." Fuutarou rolled his eyes as he slipped on some rubber gloves. He dipped his mop into the cleaning bucket and moved on to cleaning the kitchen. "How is second year of middle school going for you, Raiha? You having fun?"

Raiha nodded. "It's a lot of fun! I've already made a lot of new friends, and my homeroom teacher says she remembers you."

"Homeroom teacher?" Futuarou pulled down his mask, showing the twist of his lips as he thought. "Second year… oh, would that be Kamiya-sensei? That takes me back a bit. I'm surprised she still remembers me."

"Of course she does. Kamiya-sensei told me she couldn't forget having a student like you in her class. She told me a bunch of things about you."

"Somehow, I don't think I like the sound of that…"

Raiha did not take the hint. "Like how you did not talk much except when asking and answering questions, that you were always by yourself during lunch, and that you were always getting perfect scores on your assignments. She said she never had a student like you before. No one had ever gone a whole year without getting a single question wrong…"

Fuutarou remembered, alright. It should have been a little over six years ago. Second year of middle school—the following year of his self-proclaimed, life-changing encounter with a girl his age in Kyoto. One of the Nakano quintuplets, which he would come to realize five years later. Thinking about it again only reminded him just how impossible it all seemed. It was all the start of that apparent transformation of his life, which he had always assumed to be for the better—something that would stick with him for the next five years. Where life became about studying and studying more, until once again, that meddlesome disaster came back into his life. Except this time, it had come back five-fold.

"…and she thought I was going to be like you," Raiha continued, sounding a little more frustrated as she went on. "I mean, I thought getting a 91 on my first exam wasn't that bad! Why does it feel like I disappointed her or something? And middle school work is a whole lot tougher!"

"It only gets harder. You have to make sure you stay on top of it if you want to get into a good high school."

"Yeah, yeah, I know…"

The two siblings continued through the kitchen. Clouds of dust scattered at the first breath of fresh air. Layers of dust and grime vanished under the swipe of an old tablecloth, leaving behind a dull reflection of its satisfied cleaner. Every corner of the room would eventually glisten in residue of the gliding mop. All the while, the Uesugi siblings exchanged some overdue bonding time between them. After all, Raiha was well into her life as a middle school student now, and like every youth at that age, had no shortage of words concerning every minor detail. Before they knew it, a little over an hour had already passed.

Brushing the sweat off his brow, Fuutarou stood proudly with his mop propped against the wall. "There! Nice and spotless."

"We did a good job!" Raiha widely grinned. "That should be the last of it, right?"

"Mm… almost, but not quite." Fuutarou returned to the main kitchen table, where folded tablecloth was placed underneath various pieces of tools and appliances. Some things that he had left out earlier to air dry. "We still need to put some of these back in their drawers and racks. Give me a hand, will you?"

The young girl nodded, though, it did not take long until Raiha stopped herself. Her finger scratched the sides of her head and her brow scrunched.

"Something the matter?" Fuutarou asked.

"I'm not so sure where most of this stuff goes…" Raiha lifted a plastic component to something completely unknown to her. "What is this thing?"

She watched as her older brother took the part to a nearby device. "That's a dough hook. It goes into the stand mixer here."

"Stand… mixer? What does that do? Is it like a regular mixer?"

"Sort of. It's used when making bread. Stand mixers are used more for stuff like… well, actually, let me explain the difference between…" Without any real invitation, Fuutarou began a thorough rundown of the details and work flow of a professional kitchen. Every distinctive appliance and tool was accompanied with a brief explanation to attentive eyes and ears.

"You sure do know your stuff, huh, Big Bro?" Raiha said after a few rounds of explanation. "Now that I think about it, you must really love baking, huh? Even in college, you keep working part time at bakeries."

"He sure does!" Rounding the corner, Isanari had entered the room after having finished general maintenance of the old bakery. Smears of blackened oil, dirt, and a brushed cobweb stained his shirt, as the tall man grabbed a clean rag. "You should have seen him when he was a kid. He absolutely loved it here."

Fuutarou waved his hand. "That was a long time ago. I'm just sticking to what I know."

"And you sure know it, alright!" Isanari continued, then looked to Raiha. "He knew it well. Fuutarou would always bother me and your mom, asking if he was old enough yet to work in the bakery. Even said it was his life's dream."

"Really?" Raiha turned an attentive ear to their chatty father while simultaneously keeping an imaginative look at her older brother. The curious, yet hardly convinced, look on her face was one that Fuutarou was more than familiar with. It was always when their father had something to say about him in his youth, and Fuutarou's intuition of that was never wrong. "You loved it that much, Big Bro? Is that why you keep working in bakeries?"

"Like I said, it was a long time ago," her older brother replied. "I was too young to work, so I just watched. Mom was the one who taught me the basics of baking bread. She said that it would be good to know when I…" Fuutarou looked down to his own grayed reflection off the old baking sheet in his hands. The years had already come and gone for that naive boy that quietly watched the backs of his parents from his own special seat in the corner. What parts of him now carried those same ambitions that young child had, and what parts of it were held in that delicate cradle they called nostalgia? And exactly what was it about standing in this vacant shell of a bakery that brought this distant feeling of melancholy in his heart.

The words had slipped past his mouth before he even realized it. "When I… would finally be old enough to work here. With Mom and Dad."

Raiha looked solemnly to her older brother.

The boastful smile on Isanari's face slightly clasped as he looked to his eldest son. He folded his arms over his chest, leaning his back against the counter top. As many times as he would like to bring back old memories, there would always be a sense of longing left behind. His eyes drew over the room and he let out a long, tired sigh. "That reminds me… I should really get around to returning that call from the creditors. Wouldn't want them to keep interrupting us during dinner…"

Fuutarou clicked his teeth, his brow forming to a scowl. "Them again? Can't they just piss off for once? It's not even the start of next month yet."

"Now, now…" Raiha lowered a hand in an attempt to calm down her brother. "It's—"

"They just keep getting pushier and pushier." Isanari sighed. "It can't be helped. This street has gotten a lot more popular commercially in the past years. Once companies found out that this place has been vacant for over a decade now, they'd do about anything to get their greedy hands on it. Even had some suits approach me the other day, offering a huge sum of money for our lease"

"Crooks. All of them." Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "You're not seriously thinking of—"

"Like hell I would. What kind of question is that?" Isanari puffed out his chest. "I promised your mother that I'd keep the place in tip-top shape. What good of a husband would I be if I start neglecting things?" Isanari squinted upward. "Oh? Is that light over there flickering a little? Guess I'll need to replace that too…"

"Yeah…" Fuutarou slowly nodded. "Guess I could spend a little more time tidying up too…"

Raiha attempted to squeeze into their conversation. "Uhm… I can help if… I mean…"

A moment of silence fell over the family bakery. Trapped between the first syllables of a different topic and the hesitance of the idea, neither of the two contemplative men could find another word fitting for where they stood. Instead, they continued to stay where they were, letting nostalgia overtake them.

"Ah, I've had enough!" Raiha, who had stood quietly, had suddenly tugged against the fabrics of their shirt had snapped them out of their somber daydreaming. They looked down, bewildered to find Raiha tightly holding onto them tightly, as if trying to pull them together. "It's like this every year we come here. I can tell; it must really hurt to remember. And whenever you two talk about Mom like this…. I start to feel sad too…"

The young girl struggled to find the right words. Her cheeks puffed the more frustrated she grew with herself, until finally giving in and muttering whatever was on her mind. "But that's only because I feel… sorry for you two. I… I never knew Mom. Not like how you two knew her… I knew she was really nice and pretty. That she really loved this bakery, and… and that's the reason why we always come back here. And… that I…"

"Raiha…" said Fuutarou, unsure of what words he could say to his younger sister.

"Agh! I don't even know what I'm saying anymore!" Raiha tightened both of her fists, knocking one against the side of her head . "It's just… I… I don't even know why I feel this upset… I feel bad that I can't be sad like you two. I feel weird that I need to find a reason to be sad and… and that's weird! Am I just a bad daughter to Mom? I don't get it!"

"No, what you said makes perfect sense, Raiha." Isanari let out another long sigh. He stepped beside her, placing one hand around her shoulder. "Forgive me. You must really have felt left out, huh? We've just dragged you along with us, and you've had to put up with us moping around like a bunch of sad sacks."

"No, I don't mean it like that," said Raiha. "It's not like I don't feel anything. I love coming here, it's just… this place. I feel like it should be a happy memory, shouldn't it?" She looked to the high cupboards, to the tall racks of hung kitchenware. "When we're here, when we talk about Mom… I may have never ever spoke to her, but I feel like Mom would have wanted this to be someplace happy."

There was another short silence. The slow turn of Raiha's gaze fell across the room, ending to where her brother stood. "Am I wrong?" she asked.

"You're… not…" Fuutarou scratched the back of his head. The more he shied away from the attentive gaze of his younger sibling, the more that distant feeling crept closer to him. Feelings that made for the uneasiness in his heart the more he stood within these four walls. Feelings of guilt that he was reminded of the more he watched his family bleed with every swiped bill and coin from their pockets. He wanted this place to be a happy memory—he truly did. "I just… don't know if Mom would have been happy to see us like this."

The look on Raiha's face dropped.

"Seeing us live in that tiny apartment. Hearing us being harassed by debt collectors. It makes me think…" He leaned back against the counter top. "It makes me think that Mom would have felt guilty. That maybe… she would have wanted us to forget her and move on."

"Mom… wouldn't think like that, right?" Raiha said. "She wouldn't have wanted that, right"

"I never said that was what I wanted, either." Fuutarou shook his head. "I want to study. I want to work hard, get a good a job, and work so that I can finally get rid of this stupid debt. I'm sick and tired of it." He tightly clenched his fist. "And maybe if I do, then it wouldn't feel so bad coming back here all the time. It wouldn't feel like I'm… disappointing her for taking so long."

"Fuutarou." Isanari stepped forward. The sharp look in his eyes—the same look that Fuutarou had always brushed off whenever he looked at his own reflection. "I knew your mother since high school. We started dating when we were third years. I watched that woman for years as she built this place up from nothing. It was her dream. Is that really the kind of woman you think she is?"

"I…" Fuutarou bit his tongue. "I don't mean to think poorly of her, I only mean that—"

"Well, I know for a fact that you are absolutely right," Isanari bluntly interrupted. Both of his children turned to him with widened looks. "You could not be any more spot-on. Your mother was kind, gentle, and caring—but she was also apologetic, sometimes a little hesitant, and a little too considerate. Whenever the two of us got into arguments, she was always the one who apologized first, even when it was my fault. She would blame herself for everything, and she..." He placed a hand over the counter-top, letting his rough fingers slowly trace the surface. "She would have wanted us to give up this place a long time ago."

Fuutarou and Raiha exchanged a look to one another. There was nothing they could say after after something like that

"But let me tell you something!" With his chest puffed out and a thumb pressed against his sternum, the blond-haired man proudly proclaimed, "that woman you call your mother—she married me! She knew I was stubborn the moment I had to ask her out four different times until she said finally said—'yes.'"

He happily chuckled to himself. "And when I told her I loved her, the first thing she said was 'why me?' She still couldn't accept after so long that she could be happy, so she needed an idiot like me to keep reminding her. That's why—whenever I am here and whenever I think about your mother—I will always keep my promise to her. I don't doubt for a second that she was truly happy up to the moments she left this world."

He placed one hand over the top of each of his children's heads, ruffling them. "…And how happy she was when she was with all of us." He looked down by his right hand. "Especially you, Raiha."

"Me?" Raiha looked past the now disheveled strands of hair over her face.

Isanari nodded. "You already know. When your mother fell sick, it was shortly after she had you. Without her, this bakery would not have stood a chance—I mean, look at me! Your old man couldn't bake bread if it were to save his life. But… even when she wasn't doing well, even when we had to close this shop down, your mother looked as happy as the day I fell in love with her."

He chuckled to himself again, then looked down to Raiha. "Because she managed to bring you into the world, Raiha. This bakery wasn't your mother's only dream. When you were very, very little, she would hold you in her arms and tell you to grow up to be a loving, smart, and strong woman. You know, you were a lot like her just now. Like the times when she got upset with Fuutarou, she had that habit of mumbling to herself while she scolded him."

Raiha sniffled. "She… did?"

"Of course! Why, even Fuutarou had that exact same look when you were scolding him."

"Don't pretend like Mom didn't scold you too, Dad," Fuutarou quickly corrected. "I might have been really young, but I still remember. In fact, I'm sure you were the one she scolded the most."

"I have no clue what you're talking about." Isanari loudly laughed, and just like how they were used to, their father's endless optimism was both overbearing and contagious.

Warmth of precious moments past, present, and future filled this small space. For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, the Uesugi family would enjoy nothing more than the company of one another. With the eldest son now being farther away, times like these were few and far between. Fuutarou shared stories—which sounded more like updates—of his second semester at university. Isanari spoke of yet another odd job he was bouncing between and the developments around their home now that Fuutarou was no longer taking space. Raiha had yet to exhaust tales of her adventures as a middle school student, detailing everything from the new friends she had made and the other teachers who praised her diligent study habits.

"I'm surprised with you Raiha," Fuutarou commented as they readied to close the bakery once again. "I didn't think about it until Dad mentioned it, but you really do seem a lot more grown up."

"You really think so? Well… actually, I've been watching a lot of Ichika-nee-san's movies." Raiha covered her mouth with a palm clasped over a closed fist. "She's… so cool. I want to be as cool and mature of a woman as she is when I'm older, too."

Fuutarou looked to his younger sister. He had the vague assumption before when they had first met, but that look in Raiha's eyes was that of genuine admiration. He had heard from Itsuki that the rest of the Nakano quintuplets would often talk on the phone with his younger sister. Itsuki had said they did not want Raiha to feel lonely, knowing that her brother was not around as often, and with Isanari's wholehearted approval, had even let them take Raiha out with them from time to time.

Between the Nakano quintuplets, Raiha seemed to try her best not to display any obvious favorites. Of course, Itsuki was always the first point of contact—much to the youngest Nakano's delight—whenever the middle schooler needed the company of her five older sister figures, and none of them seemed to connect with her as well as the fifth sister. Yotsuba was the one who actively turned every conversation into an outing, never leaving Raiha in her house whenever the fourth sister could help it. Both Nino and Ichika seemed to take the older sister role a little too literally, forming a keen interest in her academic affairs and school life, with bits of wisdom from Nino on how to stay trendy and fashionable, with a few secret hints about boys if Isanari was not within earshot. And Miku was a counterbalance to the chaos, offering the leisurely pleasure of games and books in between the four other busy-bodies.

Though with Ichika, things were a little different with their relationship. A sister, who at times was a little unavailable, but hardly distant. Like the day the eldest sister and the young girl had formally met, Ichika had left a strong impression on Raiha. A kind of connection the middle schooler had never quite known, attached to her childish innocence.

That being, a reliable, female presence to place all of her admirations upon. A woman who worked tirelessly against the odds in pursuit of her dreams. An older sister that could always pick apart the troubles in her mind. And a loving girlfriend who kept that mean-spirited brother of hers humble. That was Nakano Ichika.

"You've been watching some of Ichika's movies?" Fuutarou asked. "Some of them can get pretty violent, you know. And scary. I thought you weren't a fan of that kind of stuff?"

"I actually started to take an interest recently." Raiha turned away a smug expression. "Shows just how much you really know about me, Big Bro. Consider this your punishment for leaving your own little sister all by herself while you go off to Tokyo. Hmph."

His expression flattened. "Hold on a minute. I'm starting to feel like I've done something wrong for no reason. Is this some kind of rebellious stage?"

Again, Raiha turned away. "Hmph."

Before Fuutarou could ask her another question, Isanari had turned their way. "Oi, Fuutarou. Speaking of your girlfriend, that old Maruo gave me a call a while back. It had just slipped my mind."

Hearing the name had made Fuutarou stiffen his posture, as if the cold, almost lifeless visage had already set its gaze upon him. "Nakano-san…? He… he called you?"

"Hm?" Raiha poked her head back into the conversation. "The quintuplets' father? He wants to talk to Big Bro?"

"Yeah." Isanari nonchalantly continued to pack their belongings. "He told me to let him know the next time you were back at Tokai. Says he thought the two of you should have another talk, or something?"

Between those long hours of lectures, books, and exams, simple pleasures like long weekends to visit back home were few and far between. A moment to catch one's breath, to indulge in the company of friends and family, without the threat of assignments and looming exams—so long as one was diligent enough. Stress-relieving. Carefree.

All gone at the drop of a sentence.

Light fatigue had imposed the past twenty-four hours of Fuutarou's agenda. From the toss and turns he had exhausted on his futon the night before, and to the absentmindedness that turned his breakfast cold, nothing could shake this dreadful feeling lurking in his stomach. Exactly what was it that the Nakano quintuplets' father wanted to talk to him about? And why would a busy man such as Nakano Maruo set aside his precious time to meet personally with him?

The more Fuutarou thought about it, the more his imagination appeared more creative than he had ever thought it to be. At the very least, some place familiar did bits to calm his nervous mind.

"Oh, well, well. There's a familiar face." A slim man with light brown hair, which he loosely tied in a low ponytail, had finished propping up a sign outside the store. He wore a white kitchen coat with its sleeves rolled up past his elbows. The look in his eyes did not quite fully match his smile, carrying a similarly tired gaze with tiny bags under his eyes. "Heard from Nakano-san that you'd be paying a visit today. How's college life, Tokyo Boy?"

Fuutarou waved back. "Good to see you again, boss. And things are going well in Tokyo, thanks for asking."

"You're not my employee anymore, Uesugi-kun. Please, call me Ohta or manager—whichever you'd like." Revival's manager stood up, brushing the dirt off his kitchen coat. He noticed a similarly tired expression on Fuutarou's face, despite it being quite early in the day. "You're looking… well."

"I'll admit I've been better." He dryly chuckled. His eyes made their way across his old workplace's storefront. Same as he had remembered, albeit with a few touch-ups and alterations here and there. The pastry shop sported a much brighter coat of paint, and its exterior extended to a fenced outdoor seating area with tables situated underneath hosted umbrellas. Pastries had been moved to display closer to a now-wider glass pane, easily catching the eye of any person passing by. "The place is looking pretty good. You get work done on it?"

"So you've noticed." Ohta gave an approving wink. "I had a bit of work done during my hospitalization. Nakano-san has quite an eye for decor. She helped pick out some of the arrangements you see here."

"Oh? Nino did?"

The pastry chef nodded confidently. "Doesn't look half bad, right? The abundance of new customers surely think so! Nakano-san is just on inside, in case you were wondering."

"Great, thanks." He waved back to him as he stepped inside. "Nice catching up with you, bos—Ohta-san. Good to see the place is doing well."

Inside, the walls and furniture of his old workplace were just like how he remembered. Booth tables hugged the walls and square tables lined in columns, reformed to the warm colors of beige, brown, and dark brown. Opened space invited the pleasant aroma of sweet and savory pastries, drawing the eye to the clear case displays of goods. As Ohta had not-so-humbly mentioned, the inside was quite lively with customers and employees going about. Some familiar faces recognized him, exchanging a formal greeting.

And seated at a nearby table was a familiar butterfly-shaped ribbon, tied to a neat ponytail.

"Oh, Fuutarou!" the quintuplet warmly smiled. "Good morning."

"Morning, Nino." Fuutarou returned a smile. "Things have gotten pretty busy here, huh?"

To his surprise, the quintuplet did not react. He had not noticed how abruptly the smile on her face twisted to a pout; the brows over her eyes scrunching to a scowl as the girl looked away.

"Huh? Did I say something wrong—"

He was interrupted with a light tap against the back of his head. The scolding side of a clean baking sheet, held at the hand of a completely identical girl—right down to the single butterfly ribbon tied to reddish-pink hair.

"Honestly…" Nino turned an eye to him, crossing one arm over her chest. "You wouldn't think twice if we chopped off some hair and called ourselves Ichika, would you? It's been how long already and you still can't tell us apart?"

"Ni… Nino?" Only now did Fuutarou notice the two slightly different uniforms, one belonging to Komugiya, the rival bakery across the street. "Wait, then… that would mean that this is you, Miku?"

Miku sarcastically shrugged. "Looks like college can't teach you everything. Yeah, it's me. Good morning again, Fuutarou." The third daughter tugged the butterfly ribbon over her head. "Dropped my hair tie in a puddle this morning, so Nino let me borrow one of her ribbons. Thanks again, Nino."

"Don't mention it."

"You girls can't blame me for mixing you up this time," said Fuutarou with a sigh. "Especially if you're going around wearing each other's accessories."

"And? You think you could keep using that as an excuse? Papa and Grandpa don't seem to have a problem."

"That's… different."

Miku giggled. "Hmm? Different how? I thought our Grandpa taught you the answer over a year ago, or have you already forgotten?"

"…if this keeps up," continued Nino, "you'll end up proposing to the wrong quint, and none of us will feel sorry for you, Fuu-kun."

"Yeah, yeah…" Fuutarou massaged the back of his neck. When it came to these girls, it was impossible for them not to be a pain. The tired look on his face said more than enough, and their old tutor let out another sigh. "That's my bad, I guess. I'll be more careful next time."

"We're only teasing, Fuutarou."

"By the way, what are you even doing here, Miku? You work at the bakery across the street. Knowing how both the managers are, I'm sure Ohta-san would have a fit about your manager sending in a spy or something."

Miku only laughed in response.

"She's here for this. Here." Nino handed her sister the square baking sheet. "Boss says to tell Mihara-san thanks for all of the help. Oh, and that he hopes it wasn't on too short of a notice."

"It was no problem. Likewise, Mihara-san says not to hesitate if there's anything else Ohta-san needs."

"The two of them really should just talk these out themselves, don't you think? Why do they have to keep sending us all the time? It's right across the street."

Noticing the perplexed look above Fuutarou's brow had hardly budged since he had walked into the store, the two Nakano sisters took the time to detail the recent developments between their workplaces. As it so happened, tension between the two bakeries had curiously dissolved over the past year. None of the workers were exactly sure when, but it had to have been some point after the reopening of Revival. Some of the more gossipy workers would argue that it was a little further—during Ohta's long hospitalization following his motorcycle accident.

Details were a little fuzzy, and workers from both stores never had the exact same details, but one thing that could have been agreed upon was that the two bakery owners hardly seemed to be at each other's throats anymore. Perhaps it was because Mihara, Komugiya's owner and manager, guiltily admitted to causing the accident, but Ohta looked as if that incident had never happened. Rather than the bitter bouts between flour and fire, Ohta and Mihara almost as if they purposely avoided stepping on each other's toes. Revival had adopted a menu focusing more on its cakes, pies, cornets, sandwiches, and coffee drinks, all with a more defined western inspiration. Likewise, Komugiya stuck to an array of local favorites, emphasizing more to their cookies, croissants, donuts, and cream buns. Not a single overlap, as if agreed upon privately.

"So that's what has been going on between them?" Fuutarou appeared a lot more surprised than Nino and Miku were when they had first heard it. "I had no idea they would end up that close. Interesting…"

"We saw them coming to the festival together in our third year…" Nino reminded him. "Did you seriously not notice?"

"Of course Fuutarou would be the one who had no idea." Miku gave a halfhearted chuckle. "That aside, you are here pretty early. From what you told us, you were supposed to meet with our father a little past noon, right?"

Just for a while longer, Fuutarou wished he could have enjoyed the blissful ignorance. Some respite over the needlessly anxious feelings, if only to delay the inevitable. "Oh yeah…" he could only muster, turning his gaze left and right. "That's uhm… that's right…"

"You okay there?" Nino nudged the side of his head with one finger, watching this stiff figure she used to call her tutor jolt at the first touch. "Whoa, you're really tense. What's got you so worked up?"

"Worked up? Have you met your father? I'm one more bad impression—on top of so many others—from him killing me solely by looking at me. Especially after the last time we met; of course I'm nervous!"

Nino and Miku exchanged a raised brow to the other. "You don't think dad is scary, do you, Nino?"

"Me? Of course not. Papa is really nice and sweet all the time. Isn't that right, Miku?"

The third quintuplet nodded her head in agreement, and Fuutarou answered back with own befuddled look. "We… are talking about the same person here, right? Nakano Maruo?"

They returned a factual "yeah" in unison, and Nino continued, "well, what do you expect? You're dating one of his daughters so of course he'd be extra cautious around you. And he feels responsible since he did hire you as our tutor, after all."

"…and even when you were just our tutor," Miku added, "you did step over the line a few times. Can't blame him for wanting to make sure you're on your best behavior when around Ichika."

"Well, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but… is there any hope of trying to get on his good side? Like at all? No matter what I do I end up doing something that makes him hate me even more."

Nino gave an unconvinced shrug. "Can't help you with that. He's always loved us, and Papa is a pretty good judge of character. It's quite a tall order for someone who's never been liked by people that much in the first place."

"Uncalled for." Fuutarou glared at her, to which Nino flashed back a mischievous grin. He continued, "well, it doesn't hurt to ask. Guess that guy was probably born with that look already on his face."

Miku laughed. "Oh come on, he's not that bad. Once you get to know him, he's actually really, really sweet." She quietly looked down, a sentimental smile forming on her lips. "Like the time we were still getting to know him. We've never had a stepfather before—well, we never had a real father either, so it was a really scary feeling for all of us. Dad looked like he could be a little strict, and we almost always saw him in suits. Itsuki and I were actually the most afraid of him at the start."

Both Fuutarou and Nino listened closely as Miku spoke fondly of the memories, "but you know, I think it was all around the same time. Dad didn't have a lot of things to talk about with us at first. We didn't really understand the things he would say, or why he was always out of the house. But… the times he would talk to us about Mom, he always did it with this gentle, but somehow distant, smile on his face. The five of us could tell that he really did love and cherish her. After that… we couldn't find any reason to think he was a bad person."

Miku looked to Fuutarou. "I hope that one day, the two of you will finally get along. After all, you aren't that bad of a person either, Fuutarou." She checked the time on her phone. "Ah, I think I've overstayed a bit. Wouldn't want to keep Mihara-san waiting."

"Take care, Miku!" Nino waved after her.

"And thanks for the advice," said Fuutarou. At the turn of her back, the shared butterfly ribbon that tied her hair came into view. "Oh! And, Miku…"

"Hm?"

"Your hair looks pretty nice tied up like that. It's actually a little refreshing of a change to see you without your hair covering your face. You should do it more often."

The third quintuplet stopped at the door, placing one hand against the metal doorframe. With a slow pull of the white beret she wore over her head, and a quick brush over her bangs, Miku could hardly manage a timely response. Her voice poorly disguised, coming off only as mumble, "Y…yeah… thanks, Fuutarou. See you, uhm, late—later…"

They gentle ring of the bell came as the young baker girl left the store.

"Sometimes, Fuu-kun…" Nino stood next to him, crossing her arms. "I can't tell if I've been wrong about you being an idiot, or if you're somehow an even bigger one than I give you credit for."

"Huh…? Wait, what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing." She waved a hand away as she walked back to the kitchen. "Don't worry, I got a busy shift to get back to, so I won't even try to eavesdrop over your and Papa's conversation. Good luck."

"Honestly…" he muttered, but was reminded of something. "Oh, by the way, Nino…"

"Hm? What?" The second sister turned on one heel, flicking aside the hair that barely brushed her shoulder. "Thinking of trying to pull a fast one on me? Go ahead and try it. I'm feeling pretty cute with the way I did my hair and makeup today, so what you say won't surprise me."

"Like I said, I don't get what you're talking about." He sighed with a quick shake to his head. "No, I was just saying that I forgot to bring it up the last time we talked. How's your apprenticeship going here?"

"Oh, that? It's going well, you could say." Nino played off a humble shrug. "Ohta-san knows a lot more than he looks like he does."

Fuutarou nodded. Things were indeed quite different since he had last been here. At the time, he and Nino were both colleagues, and between being her tutor, her job senior, and the one whom she relentlessly pursued with her love—it was admittedly easier to see the second sister as someone who could be a little foolhardy and immature. At the time, at least. Now, the girl in front of him was not just a regular baker at Revival, but a fully-recognized apprentice and store shift manager under local business owner of the increasingly popular bakery, Revival, Ohta.

"You're working pretty hard, aren't you?" He offered a sincere smile. "It's not easy to take up an apprenticeship for business while also being a full time student. I sneaked a peak at your grades a while ago, and you really did mean it when you said you were serious."

Between the short lapse that formed from his words and her cautiously thinking over them, Nino was hardly ready for the gentle hand placed over her head. "Great job," Fuutarou said. "I'm proud of you girls and your hard work."

His hand was only there for a few seconds longer before she calmly brushed it off. Her eyes never met his beyond that point, for fear that he could see that silly, naive smile on her face. "Ichika has really rubbed off on you, huh?" she muttered quietly.

"Hm? Did you say something."

"Nothing… I-I got a shift to get back to."

And with that, Fuutarou stood alone in the bakery. There were still a handful of minutes left. Enough to at least have a seat and order a small coffee. Enough to let the sounds of silverware and plates, the highs and lows of jazz, and the idle noise of customers slowly immerse him.

When the time had come for him to sit opposite with the clean, tailored suit that adorned the stoic father, Fuutarou had already shaken away the last of his nerves. "Would you like anything to drink, Nakano-san?" Fuutarou politely asked after a formal greeting.

"I do not frequent places like this, so there is no need." Maruo replied.

"Nothing at all? Wouldn't you at least like a coffee while we are here?"

Maruo thought for a moment, the slow hum of his breath barely audible. "…I suppose a coffee will do. Do they serve it black here?"

Taste like that hardly surprised Fuutarou, and the two continued to get situated with the other's company. There was always that short, contemplative silence that accompanied Nakano Maruo's presence, and anyone in Fuutarou's position would understandably waver when faced with that deadpan expression looking their way. However—as Fuutarou would eventually come to realize a little late in his life—patience was a virtue when it came to understanding one another.

"You're looking well, Uesugi-kun."

"Thank you." At first, Fuutarou would have thought the phrase to be mere sarcasm, until he remembered that Maruo did not appear to be one for jokes. "You're looking well yourself, Nakano-san. I know you must be very busy with work at the hospital, so I have to ask, what was it that you wanted to see me for today?"

Maruo crossed one leg over the other, letting his hands rest at the knee. "I simply wanted to have a chat with you, Uesugi-kun."

"A chat?"

"Yes. I thought the two of us should at least have a talk for once—as adults."

One of the workers had arrived with Maruo's ordered coffee, and after an expression of gratitude, the man began to slowly take his time drawing the first sips. It gave Fuutarou enough time to think about what Maruo had last said.

As adults. The words repeated. That was when Fuutarou realized it—he had had no problems looking Maruo directly in the eye when they spoke. No subtleties in his statements; no dynamic formed between their positions.

"As adults…" Fuutarou repeated, this time out loud. If it were one moment his body acted separately from his thoughts, it would have to be that foolish-looking smile on his face, as if he had finally been validated after so long.

"Make no mistake," Maruo continued. "I think we both know more than enough about each other already. We began as employer and employee, and we've since made many, many more impressions on the other than one would expect from this kind of relationship."

Fuutarou brushed off a nervous laugh. "Right… I never got the chance to apologize to you about all those times. There were… definitely some times I could have worded my thoughts better."

"I do not particularly like you, Uesugi-kun" Maruo stated bluntly, and this time, Fuutarou could hardly stifle the look on his face. Before he could respond, Maruo continued, "And, I do not think I particularly have to like you either. Though, I was surprised to find out that Ichika's relationship with you was something that was still going on"

"You were surprised that we are still dating?" The left side of Fuutarou's face crinkled a little over that remark. "I'll be honest with you, Nakano-san, that's awfully blunt of you to say. It's like you were holding out on Ichika to dump me."

"A little like that, Uesugi-kun." Maruo swirled around the darkened liquid of his coffee. "…and a little of the latter as well."

"Pardon?" For a moment, Fuutarou sat at a loss of words. "With all due respect, Nakano-san, but I don't think you know enough about our relationship to make that assumption. To me, Ichika is… well, I sincerely do love—"

"There is a lot I know about you, Uesugi-kun," Maruo interrupted. "I know you are impulsive, that you have no respect for your employer, and that you like to implant stubborn ideas into impressionable girls."

Maruo took another long sip of his coffee. "However… there are things I do not know about you as well. I do not know if you would be a good man for my daughter, nor do I know if you have the patience and decency to look after one of Rena's daughters, because they all… take after her quite well. Just as joyful; just as stubborn."

Before he knew it, Maruo had let the memory slip back to him. He remembered those adolescent days spent in fruitless admiration. He remembered the countless times he had spent beside the hospital bed—completely and foolishly in love, and simultaneously torn apart with every passing dwindling day. He remembered all the dedication that one man could possibly have for the woman they loved—the same look reflected in that furrowed gaze seated across from Maruo.

"Then I will prove it to you," Fuutarou said, and for a moment, it almost seemed like Maruo had heard himself talking. "Even if it can't happen by today, by tomorrow, months, or years I—"

"I did not come here to be convinced, Uesugi-kun." The man put his coffee back down onto its plate. "Though I've expressed my distaste many, many times, I cannot simply ignore my daughter's wishes. Especially not after seeing how deeply sincere Ichika looked in person." Maruo closed his eyes, sighing. "Regardless of my attitude towards you, Uesugi-kun, you are someone who is here to stay."

"Here to stay…" Fuutarou repeated the words. In the euphoria of it all—amidst the bright stage lights and watchful eyes—he could hardly remember the details that surrounded him at that moment. Not whatever words murmured from the stage audience, nor whatever nonsense Itsuki mumbled to herself beside him, and especially not how Maruo reacted. "Does that mean you…"

"Take it as you will." Maruo leaned back, crossing his other leg over. "At the very least, I fully respect my daughter's decision. Ichika is an adult, and likewise, so are you, Uesugi-kun. As a parent, the only thing I can do is respect that."

"Then… I don't suppose it would be too much to ask for a fresh start?"

"Not entirely." The response came without a shred of hesitation. "I said this before as well—my daughters have grown a lot more stubborn after getting involved with you. I have no issues covering tuition, and yet, both Nino and Miku insist on keeping their jobs. They should be focusing their efforts entirely on school, like Itsuki does. And Yotsuba, oddly enough, seems to be avoiding me. Before, she would always leave messages on my phone while I was busy at work…"

Again, Maruo sighed. "It's gotten troublesome."

"If I may, Nakano-san…" Fuutarou raised a cautious hand in front of himself. "It might not be my place to say this but… are you perhaps… venting out to me?"

'I do not like jokes, Uesugi-kun."

"I'm not joking," Fuutarou replied, ignoring the sharpened glare pointed his way. "I actually spoke a bit with my dad about you, Nakano-san."

"Isanari…" The mere muttering of his name caused Maruo to grimace. "I can attest that whatever that man said about me is grossly exaggerated, and you would do well to get rid of the thought."

Fuutarou chuckled back. "Maybe. But, if it's something I choose to believe, then it's this…" Fuutarou leaned forward, resting his elbows on top of his knees. The lengths of his fingers cradled together as he drew his gaze further downward. "I never thought it was any different until I got older, but my father is… young. A lot younger than many would think, for having an eighteen year old son."

Maruo remained silent.

"I didn't think much of it, but it's clear that my mom and dad had me when they were hardly any older than I am now. I… can't imagine how the two of them must have felt, suddenly becoming parents like that. For the longest time, I always thought of my dad as someone who was a little too carefree, and I was not expecting much when I asked him on a whim."

"But he told me a lot of stories about how you two would always be butting heads. How often the two of you got into arguments in the halls. How many times he tried to cut class, and how many times you were there to stop him. And, just how much you admired the quintuplets' mother."

"That's all from his perspective," said Maruo. "It's true Isanari and I never saw eye-to-eye, but that hardly gives Isanari the right to say such things. You mistake us for being anywhere remotely close to one another."

"True," Fuutarou replied, but the slight air to his tone hinted at a tinge of doubt. "But he did tell me something like this—being a parent… that's something just about anybody could do; being a good parent, well… that could be a little harder. My dad was young when he became a parent, and he told me that truthfully, he did not know if he would ever be a good father. Even now, he admits that he is still unsure."

He met with Maruo's eyes. "And that was the one thing my dad felt like he could really relate with you, Nakano-san."

Maruo held back a quick remark, instead focusing everything he could to keep the stern look on face. Though, he was not quite able to fully disguise the short moment where his eyes grew wide. "That is… hardly the truth."

"But hardly a lie either, I don't think," Fuutarou quickly replied. "You've told me this once before that you are a flawed parent. Yet, you accepted five identical daughters under your care when you and my father are the same age. You've provided for them and you protect them. And if I may, it would be like what you said earlier—we've both made our impressions. After spending so much time with those girls, and learning about you through them, I think it's fair that I also have my own impressions of you, Nakano-san."

"Oh?" Maruo narrowed his gaze, as if marking the young university student for his audacity. "And what might that be?"

"That you aren't half bad of a father to those girls."

There was slight hesitation in Maruo's eyes. It was almost as if the man was prepared to shut down any naive remark that dared come out of Fuutarou's mouth, but when the time had finally come, he was left with only a brief hum to his voice.

"You do more than just provide for them," Fuutarou continued. "You know them by heart, and more importantly, you wholeheartedly trust them. Ichika with her acting; Nino, Miku, and Itsuki with their jobs and with school. And that also goes for what you were saying about Yotsuba too. If I could keep acting out of place for just a minute longer, I would say… that it makes sense that you would worry about her a little. A parent can't help but worry. But I'm sure deep down, Yotsuba understands that what you're doing is giving her space to figure things out for herself."

Fuutarou smiled. "It's clear to me that you love those girls, and it goes without saying that they do too."

There was a lengthy silence over their table. Surrounded by the din of an afternoon cafe, the two remained in their seats. Maruo reached back for his coffee, drawing the cool ceramic rim to his lips, only to realize that he had already finished his coffee.

Maruo wondered, between this disorderly and expeditious life of his, just how many times could he truly say he made the right decisions? Moreover, would it be more appropriate to instead ask how many times he had ever doubted himself? Nakano Rena was a fervent dream in his life—an abiding flame that once and forever will inspire the man he recognized in the mirror each morning. Though her time in this world lived only in memoriam, those instilled thoughts and ambitions burned just as brightly whenever he looked upon their daughters' faces. And just as that flame changed his life, so too did its embers—to himself, and to this strangely familiar face across from him.

With a long, reflective sigh, Maruo placed his cup back down back down. His eyes drew to the nearby window, catching sight of every small, bright detail that made for a midwinter sunshine.

"That…" Maruo slowly closed his eyes. "…is not something I need validated by you, Uesugi-kun."

Chapter Text

Tickles of dewy petrichor lingered under the nose. Under a slate sky, an interposing chill guided the last snowfalls of winter, gesturing to the soil to wake the first blooms of spring. When rain fell, residue of its kisses speckled the leaves, the rooftops, the concrete—then dribbled, then drawn, to tiny puddles that splashed under the heels. When the clouds parted, it all would be made into a day's memory. So would it continue, this encompassed limbo of a season's passage. A lively spring and a timid winter.

Spring knew how to tease. It knew how to nibble and gnaw away at the tiny unpleasantries that made for wintry days. It stepped quietly at the doorstep, knocking once, twice, then waiting ever so slightly to taunt impatience. It warmed some days and it left the next. Before one could notice it, they would have already begun counting the days, pleading that the first flower would bloom sooner.

To witness another spring meant many things. A letup of the freezing air. One less brush of snow off the shoulders. Early buds of the cherry trees and warm daylight. The start and end of another year, and all of the recollections thereafter. One whole year. The thought would reflect itself the same way the dim silhouette of his face reflected from the passenger side window. It was hard to think that it had already come and gone, and just how much had changed compared to the boy who stood beside five others, proudly holding their high school diplomas under the cherry trees. In these collected days, everyone and everything had slowly diverged. Paths had been drawn and they took those first steps. Like him, others would also continue to grow and change, though the trails left behind by those closest to his heart were never too far to follow.

One year, done and behind him. Soon after this short recess marked the start of Fuutarou's second year as a university student.

"Well, here we are," the driver called back. "Nagoya Station. You guys need help getting some of the things out of the trunk?"

"I'd appreciate it if you would, Maeda-kun." Neatly brushed hair had stuck itself between Fuutarou and Maeda, turning dazzling eyes between his two friends. "You too, Uesugi-kun! I brought a lot of stuff with me, after all."

"A little too much if you ask me, Takeda," Fuutarou remarked as he picked up the bag by his feet. "Vacation wasn't even that long. You look like you've packed enough to furnish a new home."

At the close of car doors, the three boys had stepped onto the station sidewalk. His wrist drew over his brow, squinting against the bright sunlight that parted the clouds. Nagoya Station. A short journey's way by car. After that, it would only be a smooth trip on the Shinkansen and a few smaller trips on the local transport before they were back at Tokyo. Spring semester of their second year would begin a few days after.

A splash of rainwater grazed his cheek. It had rained the night before, and the last bits of it barely clung onto the metal canopy.

"Better to bring too much than too little," Takeda proudly stated at the heave of his second luggage bag. "You live a little farther from the station, don't you, Uesugi-kun? The least you can do is keep an umbrella on you or something. Whatever will you do if you catch a cold when you're all by yourself?"

Fuutarou and Maeda placed more baggage around the handles of the rich boy's bags. "I'll be fine," said Fuutarou. "It already stopped raining, and I'm going straight back to my apartment when we get off." He turned to Maeda. "Thanks again for giving us a ride, Maeda."

"No worries, man," replied Maeda. "It was cool seeing you guys again. Have a safe trip back to Tokyo, alright?" As he said that, Maeda had looked away to lock screen of his phone. A low sigh escaped his lips, twisting the expression on his face to puzzlement.

"Something the matter?" Fuutarou asked, but before Maeda had the chance to shrug it off, Takeda had stealthily snuck a glance from behind Maeda's shoulder.

"Checking if Matsui-san left you any messages?" Takeda playfully smirked. "Hmm?

Maeda quickly stuffed his phone into his pockets, but it was a futile attempt. "What… what are you talking about?"

"I saw how many times you kept checking for new messages from the backseat. So the two of you got back together, yeah?" The lengths of his eyelashes fluttered with a mischievous wink. "Have things been going well between you two?"

"Matsui, hmm…" Fuutarou pinched his chin. The name definitely sounded familiar, but admittedly, he was never the best at remembering people's names. If it were anyone the three of them knew, it would pretty much be someone from back in high school, and vaguely recalling the name was probably—

"Oh!" Fuutarou said with a light snap of his fingers. "She was that girl from our grade, with long black hair, right?"

"Her hair is brown, actually," Maeda promptly corrected.

"So I was right! You were waiting on her!" Takeda wrapped an arm around his friend. "Come on, spill the details! You two hitting it off, or what?"

The slight tinge of red on Maeda's cheeks disagreed with his nonchalant pose. He sighed, knowing there was no point in hiding it. "More or less… so what? We talked for a bit in high school, but it kind of fizzled out. Before we knew it… it was already time for graduation."

"And?" Takeda asked, a little too curious. "What sparked that flame again? Was she the one who contacted you first, or the other way around? Oh! And does she—"

"You ask too many questions!" Maeda pushed Takeda's face off his shoulders. Scratching the back of his head, Maeda continued, "And… I was the one who hit her up again. We uhm… I mean I could really tell that Matsui and I could have had something going on, but back then I was a little too… afraid. We both picked different schools, so I was afraid of what might have happened if things didn't work out or something…"

"What made you change your mind?" asked Fuutarou.

Maeda looked away, his voice reduced to somewhat of a grumble. "I just didn't want to waste it. I didn't want to look back and regret it by saying things like 'what if', or 'maybe'. I thought… it was about time I started thinking about things going right for a change, you know?"

Takeda and Fuutarou exchanged a look to each other, and in silent agreement, turned to hearty laughter. "That's the spirit, Maeda!" Takeda patted his friend on the back. "Spoken like a true man!"

"We're rooting for you, Maeda." Fuutarou nodded. "Best of luck."

"You guys…" Maeda began to straighten himself, running his hand over a loose strand of hair. "Just you watch; Matsui and I are going to hit it off right away! In fact, when I drive back I'm going to give her a call and ask her out on a date. I'm totally seri—"

He nearly jumped off his feet. Quick repetitions of buzzing sounds and melodic chimes. His cellphone. It only took one glance at the screen for Maeda to retract his earlier words as overconfidence, leaving him a stuttering mess. "Oh my god, i-it's her! Guys, g-guys, Matsui is calling me right now!"

"Well go answer it!" Takeda ushered him along with a wave of his fingers. "Go on, go on. Uesugi-kun and I are good to go."

"Wait, wait! Don't go yet. What should I even say? How should I answer?"

"How should we know?" Fuutarou said.

"You of all people should know, Uesugi! You're good at these kinds of things!"

"Me?!" Fuutarou gawked. "Just who do you take me for? Good at what?"

"Don't start playing dumb now! Tell me what I—"

"Oh for the love of—just go, already!" Takeda looped behind Maeda, pulling the door to the car wide open. Maeda had not noticed that at the same time Takeda had briefly snatched his phone. Before he could retaliate, Takeda had already tapped the green 'Accept Call' button and gently nudged it against Maeda's ear.

"Wait, what are you—hey, hey! Did you just answ—oh, ah! M-Matsui-san! H-Hey, what's up? Oh, uh, no, no this isn't a bad time. I was just—"

As Maeda had turned around, Fuutarou had taken the opportunity to gently nudge him back inside his car, giving their friend some much needed privacy. A tap came from the other side of the window. Muffled sounds and motions came from Takeda, mouthing to him, "just be yourself!"

Past the station gates and a handsome amount of yen later, the two Tokyo University students comfortably sat themselves down on the cushy seats of the Shinkansen. Clatters and rolls of metal against rails filled the train car, accompanied by the low hum of acceleration. Fuutarou propped his hand against his chin. Familiar sights of Nagoya and the roads that trailed back home to Tokai melded into a blur the louder the hum drew over his ears; the rhythm occasionally broken with every attention-grabbing chime from the intercom announcement. Give or take two hours time, they would be back in Tokyo.

"How's Ichika been, Uesugi-kun?" Takeda said with a tap of his friend's shoulder. "Things have been going well between the two of you, hm?"

"You're always so curious about these kinds of things, Takeda."

Takeda laughed. "You're right about that. Can't help myself from being a little curious, but you know, you always seem to be in a good mood when you talk about her. How could I not ask every once in a while, hmm?"

Fuutarou leaned back in his seat, letting out a single chuckle. "Sometimes, I can't tell if you're doing this just to tease me. Things have been going… very well between us, actually. I didn't get to see her as much as I would have liked, since vacation overlapped with some of her work schedule."

"Schedule, you say? Ah! Does that mean Ichika-san got over that trouble she was facing with her work?"

"Hmm… a bit. Ichika's work is back to being a little busier these days. She's really been giving it her all, but it's understandable Ichika hasn't been totally thrilled about some of the work."

"What do you mean?" Takeda asked. "Is she still stuck with those minor roles?"

"Not exactly minor… but not exactly major either, if that makes any sense." Fuutarou furrowed his brow, thinking of the right words. "Nothing as good as some of her best roles, either way. Ichika is talented and brimming with potential; studios these days just aren't utilizing it at all. It's beyond frustrating…"

"You were grumbling a little with that last one, Uesugi-kun." Takeda happily chortled. "But that's understandable. Like any protective boyfriend would be; there's nothing wrong with being a little worried about her."

Fuutarou nodded. "Yeah… Ichika knew it wouldn't be that easy right away. She told me that she's ready for anything, and I'll support her in any way I can."

Takeda peaked toward the window. Wiggling trails of leftover rainwater slid around the seams of their window, and over the treetops, remnants of rain clouds gathered to the distance. "You live a little farther from campus, right? You sure you'll be alright getting home?"

"I'll be fine. I looked up the weather in Tokyo and there's practically no chance of rain."

"Can never be too sure, Uesugi-kun." Takeda wagged a finger. "'Practically no chance' isn't the same as a zero percent chance, and just hearing you boast that so confidently is basically asking for it to rain! Have you ever thought about moving somewhere a little more convenient? Like somewhere right near campus?"

Fuutatou first answered with a silent raise of his brow, as if stating the obvious. He shook his head, then continued, "You aren't wrong. I've thought about moving out if I could. The scholarship grants only help so much, and my part time job pays the rest so I can live comfortably." He hummed a little quietly to himself as he pinched his chin.

"Something the matter?" Takeda asked.

"Since you brought it up, there's been something that's been on my mind lately. A few weeks ago, I received a phone call from… Nakano Maruo-san."

Sometime ago, Maruo had brought up a certain concern to Fuutarou. Bluntly, Maruo had asked Fuutarou of the extent concerning his future plans with Ichika, and more specifically, the possibility of inviting his daughter to move in with him in Tokyo.

Maruo stated that—as part of his way of parenting—he had established a certain rule to his five daughters in regards to their independent living situation. He had given them their own place in a high class apartment, as well entitling each of them a generous monthly allowance. All that he requested was that the five of them would live honestly, and that there would be complete transparency between him and their spendings.

It was a fair deal. His own absence withholding, Maruo wished for Nakano Rena's children to live a pleasant and comfortable youth, free from the hardships that poisoned their mother's life. For years, there would not be any issue with the arrangement.

Until—to Maruo's own bewilderment—the five sisters had defied him and had moved out of the apartment during their third year. And at the heart of that decision was none other than the eldest, Nakano Ichika.

"Unbeknownst to me," Maruo had then said, "Ichika had opened her own bank account. She had filed with a property agency, signed with property insurance, wired the electronic transfers, and provided a copy of her recent payslips. She figured out and handled all of that on her own, and I was none the wiser."

At first, Fuutarou had wondered if Maruo was leading into some form of payback—something to further the idea that he had somehow manipulated those girls to defy their father, and that he was nothing but trouble for him and his daughters. What came next was not exactly what Fuutarou would have imagined Maruo saying.

"I have no intention of discouraging her, nor would I expect Ichika to stop even if I did..." Maruo shook his head. "I realized at that moment that my girls were adults now. If Ichika wishes to move in with you, then who am I to say no? Which is why I ask you. Uesugi-kun—have you given any thought of inviting Ichika to move in with you in Tokyo?"

Even now, Fuutarou still thought about it. Rappongi, Shibuya, Meguro, Minato, Den-en-chōfu. Famous actors and actresses would of course have their eyes set to the higher districts of wealthy living and renowned movie studios. Maruo did not doubt Ichika's talents, and if she was to eventually climb the social rankings of cinema, it was evident that his eldest daughter would too set her sights on the Tokyo region.

Of course, all of that paled to a more significant reason—to be that much closer to her significant other.

"I don't expect you two to have a plan right this moment," Maruo responded when Fuutarou answered with uncertainty. "However, I had taken the liberty of doing some research."

"Research?" Fuutarou asked.

"Your current place of residency," Maruo continued. He recited the precise details of Fuutarou's own address. "Neighborhood. District. Amenities. Those kinds of qualities, Uesugi-kun. I'd go as far to say that your current standards are… subpar. Never mind for an actress; the current conditions are not fit to even house my own daughter."

Remembering that conversation left a small wound to his pride, but it was not as if he had the luxury of choice. Terrifying matters aside—like the fact that Maruo had ways of investigating his current place of stay—his only other choice was dormitory stay, but his current arrangement allowed him to save a lot more money this way. It even allowed him to treat his father and younger sister to a few smaller luxuries for their tiny home, though Isanari continued to refuse assistance with the family debt, stating that it would be better for his son to save it. For Fuutarou, he could make do with the thirty-to-forty-five minute walk to campus. He had no issues putting up with the inconsistencies of the air conditioning unit, or the occasional stray cat that found their way onto his balcony. It was hardly a bother to him.

But if Ichika were to move in with him, that would be a different case entirely. "Perhaps…" Fuutarou said with a press to his neck. "But with all due respect, Nakano-san, you don't seem to be aware of my situation. It's not like I can simply decide."

"Which is why I will offer you both my help."

Fuutarou had almost spit out his coffee. "Excuse me. That is… really generous of you. I am truly grateful that you are offering, but I don't think I could simply accept that kind of—"

"I knew you wouldn't," interrupted Maruo. "And neither would Ichika. Ichika has never once asked for my help, or more specifically, she has never needed my help. I can tell that you are the same way."

Maruo then rolled his neck, as if shaking a bothersome thought. "However, when the time comes, I am willing to offer you both other means of assistance. A connection to a proper property agency. A reference on my behalf to your two's future landlord. I will even sign as your guarantor. Surely, that much wouldn't be a problem?"

As he finished recollecting the conversation, Fuutarou slowly rested his head on the back of his seat. His eyes drew to the plain white ceilings of their train car. "Well… that's good news isn't it?" Takeda leaned over, surprised to see the puzzled look on his friend. "It's actually wonderful news! No matter how well you and Ichika may be, long distance must be tough for a relationship, right? You two can be closer together!"

"Yeah…" Fuutarou said. "I was just… surprised. Not even in my dreams would I have thought Nakano-san would go that far for us. Moving in together… it actually seems possible."

"So why don't you sound more excited?"

There was a slight twitch to Fuutarou's mouth, as if he had trouble forming the words. "Things just seem to be going too well. I don't know. It's a strange thing to think about. University, my scholarship, mine and Ichika's future, and now, her father is helping us out. After everything that's lead up to here, I just don't know what to say or how to feel…"

"Feel fortunate!" Takeda loudly patted him on the back, breaking him from his tentative thoughts. "Remember what Maeda-kun said a while ago, Uesugi-kun? Think about it as things finally going your way. They say pride is a tall mountaintop that sees less, because it forgets about the clouds it already pierced through."

"Who says that?"

"Me!" Takeda grinned, making Fuutarou roll his eyes. "Point is though, I am sure somewhere in that big head of yours, you've always been too proud to accept things that weren't one-hundred percent your own doing. You're too proud, and it makes it hard for you to accept the goodwill of others. Sooner or later, you'll just have to learn that not everything comes with strings attached. And that you should take the opportunities before it slips by you."

At first, Fuutarou was silent. Contemplative. It had become strangely alarming to him how much easier it was for people to read him, or perhaps, he had always been this easy. Pay your debts; give and take. "Maybe… you got a point. Maybe what Maeda says is also true for me too—things really are starting to go my way."

The puzzled look on his face quickly shifted to anticipation as Fuutarou straightened himself off his seat. "Right! I've decided. The next time I talk to Ichika, I'm going to invite her to live with me in Tokyo. As soon as possible! I'll even call her the moment I get back to my apartment."

Takeda chuckled. "Eager, aren't you?"

"And Takeda," Fuutarou continued. In a somewhat clumsy gesture, Fuutarou offered a closed fist to his friend. A simple, cordial gesture that had seen many boys of their age exchange, but admittedly never knew exactly why. "Thanks. For hearing me out."

A satisfied smile formed on Takeda's face and he tapped knuckles. "Anytime."

It did not take long before Takeda's demeanor shifted, playfully nudging his elbow against the side of his longtime rival and friend. "Just don't start getting a little too excited when you end up living with your beautiful girlfriend in Tokyo! Even if we're all grown up now, you got to be the responsible one and make sure you two stay safe."

Fuutarou abruptly coughed, turning away as if the thought had not crossed his mind at least once. A poor attempt. "I don't… know what you're talking about, Takeda…"

Trickles of rainwater fell above his nose. Under cloudier skies of gray, the pitter-patter of rushed footsteps sung in tandem with the splash of puddles. Streams of bubbly water flowed in parallel to the nearby street. Hundreds turned to thousands, as tiny ripples of rain impacts briefly decorated the floor, or prematurely spattered over umbrellas unfurled.

With every piling drop of rain, the troubled university boy was reminded again and again exactly how foolish he sounded that very morning. At first, it was denial; a mere light sprinkle of the dissipating clouds as they crossed through several different regions of Japan. Surely, it would pass by the time they arrived in Tokyo. Any moment now it would.

"Damn it," Fuutarou cursed under his breath. "Me and my big mouth…"

Spring rain—perhaps a handful of drops short of a downpour.

He picked up his pace, sending bursts of rainwater behind his heel. It was a long walk from the station to his studio. Drop after drop the surface of his dark hair was becoming lightly embossed with rainwater. Dampening cloth slowly began to cling onto his skin, and no amount of shielding with his arms could completely ignore the rain. He had to make it home, and he had to do it soon. "Damn it!"

Crackles of distant thunder echoed through the streets. With the clothes on his back just barely dry, Fuutarou breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed to make it back to his building before the precipitation had turned violent.

Unit 423. He closed his eyes, silently praying that it would be where he had told them to leave it, then promptly reached under the welcome mat. A short sigh of relief came as he retrieved the plastic key card to his studio, though he eyed one minor detail. An addition. On the corner of the little plastic rectangle was a sparkly green sticker—one you could possibly find on a children's sticker book—shaped like a four-leaf clover.

Yotsuba… Fuutarou thought to himself, sighing. It seemed as if the fourth sister had taken the liberty of decorating his key card. A harmless little prank; something light on the heart to sweeten his soured mood.

He entered his apartment.

And that tiny feeling of sweetness was so suddenly left behind, right outside his apartment door.

From the moment he stepped in, Fuutarou noticed a handful of bothersome details. Dim light shone above his kitchen sink, carelessly left on during the apartment's vacancy. Drawers and cupboards were left at different angles ajar, and the higher cabinets were hardly bothered to be closed. Kitchen rags and kitchen appliances were scattered and misplaced across the counter, and there was an odd—

Oh. Whatever it was that had he stepped on just now—it had better not be garbage. He glanced down. It was a thin cardboard box with large and bold lettering, decorated over a slice of pizza. With visible grease stains across the box.

Garbage. Definitely garbage.

Fuutarou stepped over it. He felt the short surge of blood rush to his head, just above his furrowed brows. If he dared to turn on the light, just how much more of a mess would he find? Cleaning all of this up would take the entire day, so he could forget about settling back in peacefully.

But, before any of that, there was something else he had to take care of first.

He made sure to lift the phone a little further from his ear as the call connected. "UESUGI-SAN! Hello! Did you make it back home to Tokyo safe and sou—"

"Yotsuba!" Fuutarou cut her off, his words slipping past his clenched teeth. "Don't you give me that! What did you two do to the place?!"

"Whoa!" He heard how quickly the fourth sister's voice shrunk. "Wha… what do you mean? Is everything alright over there? What happened?"

"Don't play dumb, Yotsuba! And where the hell is Miku?" He walked past his bathroom door, which of course, was left wide open. "I lend you two my place so that you can go to some convention or something, and you two trash the place?! What gives?"

Fuutarou stepped into the main room. Streams of the outside downpour ran down his window, and the howls and swirls of the wind battered against it. Again, he should feel relieved to have at least made it home before it got worse, but the sight of his room made that difficult.

The once plain floors and interiors of his apartment room was now an equally disorderly mess. Some of his clothes had been removed from or loosely hung off the drawers, perhaps used to accommodate the two sisters' clothes, but were not neatly placed back. Books and shopping bags were scattered around the floor. His blankets and bedsheets were left as a bundled mess, with more stray articles of clothing piled or shoved alongside it.

"I really don't get what you're talking about, Uesugi-san…" Yotsuba's voice continued, sounding a lot more cautious with her words."Miku and I made sure the place was spotless before we left! Isn't that right, Miku? Come here for a second; it's Uesugi-san."

"Fuutarou?" The distant sound of the third sister drew closer."He's on the phone? What happened?"

"He seems pretty… upset," Yotsuba answered, but Futuarou could not tell if she was trying to whisper in an attempt to be subtle or not. "I'd be careful what you say around him. It's scary hearing him yelling at us again."

Nope, it was definitely an attempt to be subtle. A truly awful attempt.

"Upset? About what?" Miku was closer now. "Hello, Fuutarou?"

Fuutarou moved aside the leftover candy wrappers that littered his floor-table, grabbing a few of them as he went. He placed the phone on speaker as he continued through, cleaning up the mess starting with the articles on the floor. "You two left the place a total mess! All of my stuff is everywhere, like it's some kind of uncivilized land. Exactly what does 'clean' mean to you two? There's a whole bunch of—ow! I think I stepped on a… is that a brush? Why did you leave behind a…"

"Wait, that doesn't make any sense…" Miku scratched her head, looking to Yotsuba. "We made sure to clean everything up right before we left."

"That's what I said!" Yotsuba added. "That just doesn't make any sense at all, unless Uesugi-san was—" There was a short pause, and if Fuutarou were physically there, he would have seen the green ribbons atop Yotsuba's head twitch with her insightful thoughts. "Unless… there was a robbery! Maybe there's a burglar afoot!"

"Don't be ridiculous , Yotsuba!" Fuutarou hollered towards the speaker phone as he shelved some of his books. "Get serious for just one second. It's one thing to leave a huge mess, but I seriously can't believe you two would lie about it."

"But we really aren't, Fuutarou. Yotsuba and I cleaned up and left your key card under the mat, like you told us to. You remember right, Yotsuba?"

"Mhm! Mhm! We did all of that!"

"Then you're telling me that this mess just somehow appeared out o—" Fuutarou froze in place. Slowly, he began to piece together the details of his tiny apartment. Displaced articles of bedding and clothing strewn about the room, tossed as if not by carelessness—but by force. Drawers, cabinets, and doors left open, as if whoever was here was searching for something.

Was he too quick to rule out the possibility? Did someone actually break in and rob his place?

"Yotsuba… Miku…" Fuutarou cautiously looked around. There were a number of days where this apartment was vacant. "Did either of you… say out loud… where you left my key card?"

The slight tremble to Miku's voice over the phone sent a chill down Fuutarou's spine—as if one of his worst fears were suddenly realized. "Wait… Fuutarou, did someone really… break into your home?!"

"Ehh?!" Yotsuba abruptly shouted. "My guess was right?!"

"Yotsuba! Did you say anything as you were leaving my place? Something about leaving my key card under my mat?"

"What? No! I would never! Why would—"

"You probably blurted something out by mistake!" Fuutarou lashed, even if he knew it was baseless. For some reason, it seemed almost fitting that the loudest of the sisters would let that detail slip.

He could practically imagine it. Okay! We got everything! Yotsuba would probably have said as they stood outside his door. Now, we just have to leave the key card right under the front mat, just like Uesugi-san told us to!

Yotsuba's troubled voice interrupted his fabricated scenario. "I… I-I don't remember… I don't think I did. No I'm sure I didn't, but… I don't… remember…"

"Then how would anyone know?! I didn't tell anybody else!"

Fuutarou began rummaging through his desk, his drawers, his higher shelves. He was unsure of exactly what he was looking for, but every speck and detail of his belongings had to be accounted for. Every coin, book, decor, and device. "What did they take?" He quickly muttered, growing louder with every piece of clutter shoved aside. "What did they take?!"

"Let's all calm down a bit, Fuutarou, Yotsuba." Miku took the phone from her panicked sister. "Fuutarou, we shouldn't jump to conclusions like that. I don't remember either of us saying anything like that."

"You're—" Fuutarou clenched his teeth and fists. Breathe. Deep, deep breaths. Again. "You're right, Miku. Sorry. Sorry to you too, Yotsuba. I didn't mean to direct that at you."

"It's okay, Uesugi-san." Yotsuba let out a relieved sigh."It's more important that you're safe."

"Is there anything damaged?" asked Miku. "Any signs that someone came in and took something?"

Fuutarou looked around the room. Accounting for his own belongings that he brought with him back to Tokai, there should not be anything else of notable value in his apartment. Expensive as they were, textbooks were not exactly worth the trouble. And in a weirdly thankful way, he could at least count that all of his newly bought clothes were still here, seeing as they were sprawled across the floor.

"No…" He began to think quietly to himself. "Nothing seems to be—" His eyes grew wide, and he quickly dropped to the floor. "My passbook! Shit! Don't tell me—"

"Huh? Your passbook?"

Under his bed. Tucked in a box along with all of his other student and scholarship documents. The passbook to his bank, detailing every transfer and transaction he had logged this past year. The necessary information he needed as part of his scholarship grants. Along with the details of his bank account.

"Ow!" Fuutarou winced. He had bumped his head in a hurry against the underside of his bed. He had to keep reaching; surely it must still be here. "Found it!"

He withdrew his box from under the bed. It was still there.

"Are you okay, Fuutarou? That sounded really loud just now. Are you hurt?"

Fuutarou slunk down, leaning his back against the frame of his bed. A large breath of relief fell out of his lips. "It's here. Thank goodness, it's still here…"

"Whew! That's a huge relief" Boisterous as she usually was, Yotsuba was quick to turn the conversation's mood. It made it easy to picture the look on the fourth sister's face as she laughed triumphantly. "You gave us quite the scare there! For a second, I thought you were really in trouble! But…but! Don't we still have another mystery to solve? Doesn't that mean we only have MORE questions? Like, like…"

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. He could tell that this was going to be a long one, so he turned up the volume of his phone's speaker while he continued around his room. For the time being, there was no way he could get his thoughts straightened out if he stood in this disaster of a room. He started with the piles of clothes left on the floor. A gray hoodie, a bundled-up scarf…

"…if someone did break in," Yotsuba continued, sounding far more entertained at the thought of playing detective,"then why wouldn't they take anything? What was their goal? Maybe it's possible that Uesugi-san is being targeted by a super secret organization, or maybe he's now caught up in some—"

Fuutarou hollered back to the phone, "I'd sooner believe you two forgot to clean up than believe that. Your crazy theories just prove how seriously you're taking this." He walked over to the doorway, finally flicking on his light switch. Things looked a lot worse in the light, and he continued picking up articles of clothing. He began with the clothes down on the floor beside the bed. A white button-up long sleeve, a green lounge shirt, a pair of white socks. And just what was this black strap poking out from under the tea table…

"Oh! Wait wait WAIT! I got it! Maybe, Uesugi-san has a… DOPPLEGANGER! Maybe in Tokyo U, since it's full of so many geniuses, the science department secretly created clones of all of the students and… and—!"

…a dark elastic band, trimmed with thin floral lace at the straps, down to where it to connected two large, rounded cups. A woman's bra.

"Ugh… so noisy…"

A hand had reached from behind Fuutarou's ear, stretched far so that he could feel the subtle warmth of her woken skin, right beside his cheek.

And so suddenly did Fuutarou feel a shiver run down his spine. In the solace of it all, he had not once noticed the sound of feet softly touching the floor behind him. He did not hear the rummage of blankets and bedsheets unfurling, now draped over her chest and shoulders, like a slowly slipping dress. Glimpses of her bare skin peeked between the gaps, obscured just enough to tempt a closer look and the look on her face seemed to invite it.

Forcefully encompassed in this intimate space, Fuutaoru's eyes slowly began to follow the inside of her arm and elbow, trailing to the ends of her fingers, firmly pressing the bright red 'End Call' button of his phone screen.

From the interrupted end of the phone call, Miku and Yotsuba exchanged odd glances to each other. "That voice we heard just now…" Yotsuba said, still frozen in her grandiose story-telling gesture.

"…wasn't that…" Miku could not finish her sentence, slowly turning red.

It was almost as if Fuutarou had to force his heart to start beating again, and to force his lungs to utter something. Anything! "I-Ich…"

A blissful, somewhat dreary, smile greeted her speechless lover as she leaned in to snatch a quick kiss on his lips. "Good morning, Fuutarou-kun."

"I-I-Ichika?!" His lips were still partially agape, and his stare was just as wide. "W-Wha… what are you doing here?! Where did you—when did you—"

"It's nice to see you too. Kept me waiting, didn't you? ." Ichika yawned, drawing her arm further above her head in a tired stretch. "How long was I out? Oh, only a few minutes?" The blankets that wrapped around her had slipped even further and Fuutarou remembered one specific detail. Ichika slept completely naked.

He quickly turned away, but from where Ichika stood, she could perfectly picture the embarrassed look on his face that led right to the reddish tinge on the back of his ears. After a moment to calm his heart, Fuutarou snuck a glance sideways, asking her, "What are you doing here, Ichika?"

"Hmm?" He heard the drag of blankets trail behind Ichika as she stepped from behind one shoulder to the other. "Is an actress's job ever so busy that she can't surprise her special someone with a little visit? You don't seem that excited to see me, Fuutarou-kun."

"That's—No, I'm just… really surprised. I'm happy that you're here, but…" He tugged his collar. "You're uhm… you're not… wearing..."

Ichika giggled softly behind him. Like ice pressed against his skin, Ichika blew a short puff of air against his ear, whispering tenderly to him, "Aww. You're so cute when you're like this. Don't worry, I'm still wearing panties."

"That's not the entire issue…"

She laughed again. "Then, you wouldn't mind if I borrowed a shirt, right? I'm sure there's one lying somewhere around here…"

"Lying around here…?" The wheels were slow to turn in his head, but it all became clear the moment he looked away towards the mess that was his apartment room. It was much like a certain person's room; someone he knew very, very well. He sighed loudly. "I should have guessed the one who trashed my apartment was you."

"How rude." Ichika pouted, drilling a finger into his cheek. "What kind of slob do you take your girlfriend for?"

"Have you seen your room? What other slob do I know lives like this?"

"Oh come on, it's not that bad. See? There's a clean shirt right here."

"How can you—" His back immediately straightened when he realized how close she was again.

She knew enough about the kind of places that made him squirm. He felt both her arms caress over his shoulders. Warmth from her skin surrounded him, and he had to control every urge within him to ignore the heavy smother of her bare chest pressing against his back. And because he used everything, nothing could have stopped that shriveled moan that quivered his lips when Ichika gently nibbled the back of his ear. "Be on your best behavior, okay, Fuutarou-kun?" She whispered into his ear. "No. Peeking."

He was left only with his imagination, and the involuntary pictures it painted in his mind as he heard the tug and slip of cotton gliding against skin. "Okay, you can look now."

Loosely fitted on the young woman was a white button-up long sleeve shirt with a collar. Wrinkled cotton made up the bend of the sleeves, the front of the torso, and the entirety of the backside. The only exception was the well-pronounced pull of thinned fabric across the chest and hem of the shirt, shaped according to her curves so that the rest of his unbridled imagination quickly overwhelmed him, with the top few buttons purposely left unbuttoned.

Ichika laid with her stomach on his bed, tilting her head with her palm placed to the side of her cheek; the teasing smirk of her lips visible between the gaps of her fingers, as she looked Fuutarou's way. "Better?"

"Y…yeah…" Fuutarou shifted his gaze slightly. At times like this, he wished he could be a better liar. Anything that did not make his face so easy to read. Somehow, she looked even more alluring in just his shirt. He made his way over, sitting on the other end of the bed. He cleared his throat. "Alright, Ichika. I think you've had enough fun, don't you think? Mind explaining things from the beginning?"

"Alright, fine. I wanted to keep it a surprise, but do you remember that shoot I told you about? The one in Kanagawa? Well, it actually was out here in Tokyo. So… I thought it'd be kind of fun to stay in your place. Even greet you when you came home." Ichika yawned. "But you sure did take your time getting here, Fuutarou-kun."

"So that's how it was…" Fuutarou propped his arms behind his back, leaning. He looked to Ichika, relaxing a smile on his face. "Well, you sure fooled me. I didn't expect a thing. Happy?"

"Delighted."

He slowly leaned in for another kiss, which Ichika warmly met. When they pulled away, Fuutarou gathered the words from the sincerest parts of his heart—the ones that felt just right, whenever he was with the one he cherished most. "Tadaima, Ichika."

"Okaeri, Fuutarou." She looked at him, smiling lovingly.

Drops of rain continued to hit against the window, and pelt against the rooftops and canopies of the apartment building. For some time, they sat silently, letting the swirl of thoughts and comfort cozy their space. Raindrop, raindrops. Even the distant thunder offered its own solace, and the two—

"Ah." Fuutarou clicked his teeth. The room had suddenly darkened. "Looks like the storm got the power. Hold on, I'll go get some candl—ow!"

"You okay?"

"I tripped on something. Damn it, Ichika! What are you going to do if I hurt myself because you left stuff all over the floor? I can't see a thing!"

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be careful next time."

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. He made his way to the kitchen using the light of his phone, then returned with a lidded candle container.

"Hey, that one looks familiar." Ichika sat up from the bed, watching as Fuutarou lit the candle. "Are those the ones that Nino got for you? Looks like you've been using them a lot."

"Yeah, they are. They come in handy, especially since the power always shorts out here when it rains."

"So, it happens often. When does it usually come back on?"

"Sometimes a couple of hours. Sometimes not until the next morning. You kind of get used to it." Fuutarou sat back on the floor, leaning his back against the frame of the bed. Ichika laid down beside him, and the two of them watched the dimmed dance and flicker of the candle flame burn. Pleasant, sweet smells burned alongside it, whirling the air in the benevolence of rose and amber, as they both let out a collective sigh.

"How was your movie shoot, Ichika?" Fuutarou asked after some time. "Have things been going well?"

"Mm… yeah, it's been going well. My coworkers have all been pretty friendly, but it's still weird being the youngest one there." Ichika tiredly stretched her arms. "It's been busier as well. We've been shooting from early morning to evening practically every day for the past week. At least the roles have been getting a lot better."

"You're making sure to at least take care of yourself, right?"

"I'm fine, Fuutarou-kun." She looked at him, and the slight crook to his brow seemed to suggest otherwise, but Ichika reassured him. "And I really mean it this time. Sure, the days can be a little exhausting, but I make sure to get my rest. Wouldn't want you scolding me again."

"If you say it's fine, Ichika, then I trust you."

"And how about school for you? Ready for your second year in Tokyo U?"

"Ready as I'll ever be. You kind of get used to the way things are at this point, so the upcoming three years will more or less be the same." He leaned his neck back, letting his head rest on the bed. While he did, Ichika nudged a little closer from her spot on the bed so that she could look down at his face. Her fingers playfully combed and twirled through the lengths of his hair, still carrying drops of dewy rain in its dark strands. The dim flicker of the candle made that golden look in his eyes that much more alluring, and she could not resist planting a quick kiss on his forehead.

"It's been a whole year, hasn't it?" Ichika leaned her cheek back down onto the bed. "You know, with how busy things have been, I don't think either of us realized we missed our one-year anniversary."

"Oh." He paused for a moment. "Is that something people normally do?"

"Jeez, you're hopeless." Ichika drilled another finger against her naive lover's cheeks. "It's a big thing for a lot of couples. They'd go on romantic dates, maybe order a cake to celebrate. A lot of things did happen this year, after all."

Fuutarou closed his eyes. "Yeah… a lot has, hasn't it? So much, so soon. You know, Ichika, I owe you a lot."

"Hmm? For what?"

"For… everything." He reached upward, caressing the sides of Ichika's cheek. The deep sapphire hue of her eyes drew over him, and he felt a sharp draw of breath inside of him, ready to drown in the sea that was her loving gaze. "This past year has been the best year of my life, and I don't think I've thanked you enough. It's still kind of embarrassing to say this out loud, but I'm feeling a little sentimental right now. So… thank you. Thank you for letting me fall in love with you, Ichika."

Ichika's hands slowly drew over the reddening face of her lover, giving them both time to compose themselves. After a few short seconds, Ichika lowered herself so that she may tightly embrace Fuutarou by his shoulders. "You're really the sweetest, Fuutarou-kun. You've given me more than you can imagine, so I want to thank you too. Staying here like this… it makes me wish it could be like this every day. Just you… and me."

The ends of Fuutarou's fingers met with the back of Ichika's hand, holding onto it tightly. He thought of the days that lead up to now; he thought of the future that fulfilled that wish they both carried deep within in their hearts. A special place, just for them. Here in Tokyo. It could happen. "Hey, Ichika. There's something I wanted to ask you…"

Drips of melted wax fell from the curled candle wick. Murky liquid gathered to a pool at the center, dim and dark as the furthest wall in his apartment room.

"…is there something you're not telling me?"

The beat of the flickering candle-light was all that moved within that room. Silent, save for the flooding sounds of rain that had since grown heavier. After some time, Ichika's arms slowly loosened around Fuutarou's shoulders. "You really have gotten better at reading me, huh?" She laughed, a listless air following the words until Ichika eventually sighed. "That really isn't fair. You know I'm not used to that."

Fuutarou looked back. For some inexplicable reason, he somehow knew just when Ichika's heart wavered, no matter how slight it may be. He noticed whenever that look in her eyes grew wistful; when her words harbored a sense of longing behind them. Over time, she may grow to become a better actress and a better liar, but even if she rested upon every laurel her lies reaped, Fuutarou would always have an eye that could see through her.

He asked her, "Am I prying too much into something I shouldn't?"

Ichika shook her head. "No… no. It's not like I'm trying to hide anything. I was going to bring it up sooner or later. You just have a way of keeping me distracted." She crawled herself upright, offering Fuutarou a place to sit beside her on the bed. When the warmth of his shoulders found its place beside her, Ichika continued, "Do you remember Masaki-san? Masaki Yusa? She was the director of The Vermilion Riddle, that one big film I was in over half a year ago."

Fuutarou nodded, and Ichika continued, "Well, then you probably remember that Masaki-san is a former schoolmate of Oda-san, my manager. They attended the same university here in Tokyo. Oda-san knew that for a while, we've been struggling to land bigger roles for me, just like how they were in The Vermilion Riddle."

She pressed a finger to Fuutarou's lips, knowing what he would say. "And before you say anything about that—no, I do not regret a single thing. I've told you that before, and I will always mean it. Everyone involved in that film has since grown a lot more popular—Masaki-san especially. She's considered to be a brilliant director, and she's already directing her next big film. Right here in Tokyo. Oda-san thought it would be the perfect time to offer me up for another job in one of her films. He thought that surely with our connections, I could land another starring role in her films."

There was a strange feeling in the back of Fuutarou's mind. From that delicate way she spoke, it seemed evident that there would be some complications somewhere. He tried his best to find the right words. "Were there some problems with your audition?"

Ichika shook her head, smiling as if the thoughts in her head flattered her. "Masaki-san said that I would be a perfect fit for one of her leading characters. She told me that she owed a lot to me for making her first film a success, and that I was welcome to audition for the role."

"Then, that's a good thing, right?" said Fuutarou. "And if it's here in Tokyo, then that means…"

"I don't know if I should accept it!" The cadence of her last words felt weaker, up to the moments where it suddenly leapt out her mouth, as if the young actress had to force it. She tightly wrapped her hands together.

"Ichika…?" Fuutarou tensed up. That was not the reaction he was expecting from her, especially after receiving such uplifting news, but he now realized that Ichika was looking away from him. Her eyes trailed to the floor, where the ends of her feet huddled closely off the edge of the bed.

"Sorry… just let me finish." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "Like Oda-san, Masaki-san knew that it's been a little difficult for me. She sat with me during that interview. She was the one who directed me in her film. She told me that I was the most promising actress she's ever met…" Ichika took a deep breath. "So, she gave me a choice."

"A choice?"

"Masaki-san could let me audition for the role, or, she could refer me to the Board of Directors to a School of the Arts."

"School of the Arts…? You mean like, get a degree in Fine Arts? For acting?"

Ichika nodded. "It's a full-time, two-year program. A lot of actors don't really need to pursue a degree. It's commonplace that they focus on auditions and building their resume as much as they can, and their work should speak for itself. When Masaki-san said that I could audition for her role, I realized something. I could just keep getting lucky—role after role, I could keep getting lucky—or I can work a lot harder, a lot differently. The institute that she would refer me to has a lot of ties in the film industry, and it's name carries some real weight to it. The acceptance rate is extremely low, and people would do anything for a referral."

"So what did you do?"

"I thought I should let you decide for me." She crawled around the bed, digging her fingers somewhere between the sheets and pillows. Whatever it was she was looking for, Fuutarou could not help but turn an odd eye over her methods of keeping things in place. Though, she had retrieved it timely, and the pink-haired girl handed it over to him. "Here."

It was a letter. A plain, white letter folded into a rather decorated envelope—one with ornately printed letters and careful presentation. Nothing like the bits of mail and notices he casually drew from his own letterbox. No, this one looked as if it were made just for her. Just for Ichika.

And he had taken his fair time looking over the first few words of the letter. It was the same reason he was able to spend so much time on the presentation of the words, and how strangely different it seemed.

It was an acceptance letter—written in English.

"I've… already been accepted into the program," Ichika said. Now, Fuutarou was finally able to look into her eyes and see every detail. Down to every last detail. The clasp of her lips as she forced out the words, and the brim of her eyes that held back tears. "The institute she referred me to is in… America."

All at once, this tiny gap between their shoulders had never felt more distant. It was distance where Fuutarou only needed to reach out with his hands so that he could clutch her hands or embrace her by the shoulders. So undoubtedly close that he only needed to reach out, and yet, he could not find the resolve to move a single finger. If it were like this, what solace would there be between them when it was two different sides of the world?

"To be more exact," Ichika's voice broke him from his short trance, "it would be in California. Isn't that something? Masaki-san has apparently received so much worldwide recognition, she's even made contacts with high-profile people in Hollywood. Did you know that foreign films are pretty popular in the West? It's really… something."

"You want me to help you make a decision?"

"No." Ichika shook her head, an empty gaze settling upon her eyes when she looked his way. "I want you to decide for me."

Fuutarou hesitated before he spoke. "For you? That's… that's an awfully hard decision to put on me, Ichika… This is your future we're talking about."

"Sorry. I know that it's too much to ask from you. I did not want to put this all on you like this, but… I just couldn't forgive myself if I made the wrong decision. If… you ended up hating me because of it…"

"Ichika…"

"Hey, did I ever tell you something about me, Fuutarou-kun?" Ichika huddled a little closer to herself, letting one leg touch the floor as she leaned back. The ends of her cheeks pressed the side of her leg, once again, drawing her gaze downward. "Back in my old school, back in Kurobara, before we transferred to your school. There was… someone else I was really close with there. We met because we sat next to each other in our first year, and she… was the first person I ever told that I seriously wanted to become an actress."

"A close friend?"

Ichika softly giggled, and that smile she turned to Fuutarou playfully mocked his intuitions. "Yeah. She was a 'friend.'"

Fuutarou looked away, turning slightly red at the thought. "S-sorry… I mean, Kurobara was an all-girls school, so I did… not expect…"

"Thinking something naughty?" Again, Ichika giggled. No matter how wistful her thoughts and words grew, there was never a moment where she did not delight in that blushed, innocent look on Fuutarou's face. "But no, it was just something very… short. We were really close friends. That was pretty much the furthest we really got. Up until now, I never really knew how I felt, or what exactly could have happened, because… the five of us ended up transferring schools so quickly."

"At first, she supported my acting. She wished me luck at every audition. She said she thought I was really special. I suppose at the time, and because I had four sisters so identical to me, I was just happy to have anyone thinking I was special. But…" Ichika closed her eyes. "I never realized how hard it was for her. Work became busier, my grades in school were getting worse, and it even became harder to simply text 'hello' to her. It was brief. So brief that if I wanted to forget all of it, I probably could. That's pretty awful of me, don't you think? I never knew how much it hurt her back then, and if I could go back, I would have stopped myself from making that mistake."

"Then… what happened? Between the two of you?"

Ichika smiled an empty smile, looking directly into Fuutarou's eyes. "Long story short, the last thing she said to me was that she hated me. Maybe, for her, encouraging me to pursue acting was her first wrong decision. Maybe, for me, my first wrong decision was accepting her feelings in the first place. I told myself that I should have known better. I told myself that… if I wanted to be really serious with this, then the worst thing I could do is fall in love too soon."

"Fuutarou-kun," Ichika continued, "you said you were at your happiest when you were with me, right? Well, I am too when I am with you. What I feel with you is different than what I've ever felt about anyone in my life, and maybe, that is the same for you too. So… what exactly does that make me, if I were to make a decision that took it all away from you? What if it ended up making you hate me? What if I…"

When words no longer fell from their lips, all that remained was a gnawing silence. Silence befitting the limitless void that was their troubled thoughts, and even if they had every minute to every hour of this tempestuous evening, neither would find resolution when left alone, trapped within their own solitary thoughts.

So, Ichika asked Fuutarou. Within the slowly dimming light of that flickering candle flame, she asked him.

"Wanna call it off?"

She did not need to face him to know what kind of face he was making. She did not want to face him. How wide the look in his eyes must be as he quickly turned her way. How much his mouth opened and twisted, trying to find the right words. Just by the way Fuutarou now tightly laced his fingers through hers told Ichika more than she needed to know.

"I'm joking." Ichika said.

The grip around her fingers tightened.

"I'm joking…" she repeated, again and again. As if she were desperately trying to convince herself otherwise, and she did it in the only way she knew how.

Lies. Lie after lie, Ichika would slowly repeat the words in her head until the words fell off her mouth. It was always easier that way, and surely, if she lied to herself enough times, she would eventually believe it. As many times as she would need to. "I'm… joking…"

But how could she lie, when the tears trailing off the corner of her eyes so easily betrayed her? Why was it always this that she could never get right? "Huh…" She drew the back of her other hand to her face, trying to wipe the tears that would not stop falling. "Why am I…"

"Go." Fuutarou had caught her tears first. The edge of his fingers softly drew a line across the residue of her melancholy, then trailed to his palm as he caressed the sides of her cheeks. Slowly, he drew her head closer to the warmth of his chest, placing one long kiss on Ichika's forehead.

"Hu… huh…?"

"You don't have to ask me, Ichika. The answer should be obvious." He held her by the shoulders so that the hesitant look in her eyes had nowhere to turn to but him. "Go, Ichika. This is your dream, right? Don't worry about me."

"But… I don't want to leave. Not if it means leaving you, Fuutarou-kun. I…"

"Who says it has to be that way?" His voice was filled to the brim with conviction, and no further words could persuade him. "You think I'd just let you decide that all by yourself? After everything? Well, I don't have any plans on giving up. Not on you, and not on us."

"But… it would be too difficult. It's so far away. I can't put that kind of a burden on you."

"It's up to me to decide what is and what isn't a burden to me. You should know that by now." Fuutarou tapped the side of his hand over Ichika's head, as if he scolded her. Though his touch was gentle, Ichika would find any excuse to bury her head against his shirt, letting the tears soak into the cotton. And he would embrace all of it, running his fingers down the length of her short hair, down to her nape, before finally resting on the back of her shoulders.

"I… I don't know…"

"We've already made it this far. With me all the way in Tokyo, and you back home and traveling because of work, we've done alright. I think it will be alright."

"That's different, Fuutarou-kun. You know it's different! Tokai and Tokyo are far, but it's nothing compared to Japan and America! It's not like night and day; it is night and day!"

"And do I care?" He bluntly stated. "How much do you think that matters to me?"

"Well, it matters to me!" Ichika looked up to him, pointing a finger to the tip of his nose. "Do you know why I work so hard? Going past my schedule until the evening, memorizing all of my lines at home, studying so many movies. Day after day, I keep trying my hardest. I do that because… it's one of the only things that keeps me from going crazy because you aren't around. It distracts me from what a complete mess I am inside. I always want to text you whenever I see my phone. I want to call you whenever I have even a single minute of free time. I want to just ditch my job and hop on the next train to Tokyo. I'm a total mess when I—"

Fuutarou placed his hand over Ichika's mouth, muffling her words. What quietened the temper of her thoughts, however, was the gleam of his golden eyes, furrowed to a scowl. "Stop talking like you're the only one who's crazy."

"What?"

"Do you think it's just you? I have to study even harder every day because I can't help but think about you. I keep sneaking glances at my phone during lecture, so I keep missing notes. I want to call you whenever there's a couple of minutes between classes. When I come home and see this empty apartment, I always imagine what it would be like if you were here to greet me home. I want it all so bad, days go by where it just hurts. And I do it all, over and over again."

"What… what's with that? What's with you?" To her own surprise, Ichika could only laugh. She laughed and laughed, until the feeling inside of her stomach turned to a hilarious kind of pain, and the tears welling up in her eyes carried a confused sense of joy. "Then, I guess we're both crazy, huh?"

"I suppose we are." Fuutarou chuckled, and he slowly leaned his back. "I suppose… we are."

"It's going to be hard, you know?"

"I know."

"You'll be falling asleep just as I'm about to wake up. And when I go to sleep, you'll probably be getting ready for class…"

"I know."

"I don't know how busy we'll be that we can talk while I'm at work and you're studying..."

"I know, Ichika."

"and every day, we'll miss each other like crazy. We might actually go crazy..."

"And I'm willing to go through it all, if it's with you." He placed his hand over hers. "Through every single step of the way."

It was probably his first time. The first time he carried those words with so much courage, that— not even the moments after the words left his mouth—no hints of his bashful, flustered self lined his face. Nor did that look in his eyes change as he tightly held onto the back of Ichika's hands. Those simple words, where nothing else mattered. "Because I love you, Ichika."

Ichika slightly turned away, but it was never enough to hide the brightening red of her face, nor the slow swell of her throat as she swallowed. "You'll embarrass me when you say it like that, idiot…" Through all of it, Ichika smiled as much as she truly could. "But I… love you too, Fuutarou."

He let Ichika lean her head once more onto his shoulders, and they drew their gaze back to the dwindling fire. Once again, the thought had entered his mind. Thoughts of the rest of their lives together, and how it all would begin with moments like this.

"However, in exchange…" Fuutarou slowly stood up, making his way in front of her. He stood with both arms crossed, again, as if his position had always been to scold this foolish lover of his. "When you come back here, back to Japan, you'll come here. To Tokyo. To our own special place that we'll find together." When her eyes had fully looked up to his, he extended his hand forward. "Move in there—with me, Ichika."

Deep within her, the beat of Ichika's own heart had never resonated louder. Love, truthfully, was still something complicated for her. At times, it was gentle. It was the shivers that carried the cold winter air, the warmth that soaked with spring. It made the raindrops taste sweet. It made the slip of the puddles as graceful as any dance room floor. Love knew the right and wrong words, plucked straight from a quickly-beating heart.

And Love was a terrible, awful liar.

"Then… make me count the days." Ichika slowly closed her eyes. "Make me suffer every day where I'm so far from you. Make me cry whenever I am all by myself. Make me regret ever deciding to leave, so that when I finally do come back, it will be running straight into your arms and your arms only."

It all had happened so suddenly. Fuutarou felt the ends of his wrists tighten. He felt himself being pulled inward, collapsed to a clumsy position. Warmth of each other's bodies—so close that they could easily mistake whose heartbeats they felt. Sounds of cotton gliding across bedsheets. When Fuutarou had finally looked down, Ichika had already torn away the buttons that held together her shirt. One of her hands was placed beside his cheek, and the other slowly reached for the top buttons of his shirt.

"Ichi…ka…" The words forced out of his mouth. Everything else had already snatched his breath away. Fuutarou brushed his hands beside Ichika's face, trailing down to the messy fringe of her hair as it sprawled against the bed. "Are you… sure?"

Through the blushed confidence that tinged her skin, Ichika nodded. As assured as the endless throbbing of her own heart, she nodded. Confidence that she always dearly held onto, for without it, she was nothing more than a fearful, naive girl, afraid of what it meant to grow up. Her hands reached for the sides of his face, feeling the heat of his skin against her palm. She whispered, "Make me miss it, Fuutarou-kun. Burn every part of you within me so that I can remember. Carve your name right here—into my heart, my body—everything. All of me. Make me miss, and make me long for… all of you."

Their lips met in a single, long embrace. At first, it met slowly, letting the soft touch settle upon the other. When they moved, it would sometimes turn careless, as if they both grew impatient. Or perhaps, they still were hesitant. Nervous. Like it was all one last kiss, reminiscent of every phase of their naive, youthful love. It snatched the breath of the other; it teased the most decadent taste. One final kiss—one last moment to bid farewell to this nameless innocence.

From here, neither of them could rely on experience. They were amateurs. Novices. Through every pull and slip of fabric off skin—all the parts of themselves familiar and unfamiliar—they discovered it all together. It was scary. Frightening. Uncertain and unknown. All they knew was that at some point, they both had crossed a line. And when the first walls crumbled, the two people that lay near-breathless in this dim, candlelit room—surrounded in the unending cascade of the spring rain—would never truly be the same.

She had offered him everything, and he to her. Tenderness, passion, pruriency, complacency. Indulgence in hunger they never knew existed, ravishing their senses until only desire remained. All other words would collapse, diminishing to warm, breathless puffs of every way they could imagine saying, "I love you," that the skin, the flesh, and the eyes did not already tell. They exhausted every syllable, every consonant to every vowel, of the other's name, repeated over and over again until even that began to sound unrecognizable.

A perennial springtide. One that quickly matured confidence and carnality. Where boldness took over the place of hesitance, tossing and turning themselves. She wanted to know just how starved those eyes looked up to her as she straddled over him, fixating his cheek, his chin, and his eyes by the ends of her fingertips. And he desired that look on her face without that arrogant smirk that delighted with every tickle and tease she always pulled over him. One over the other, and back again.

It went from the heaviest downpour to the drips of the dew laden grass. It brought the rain, the thunder, the clouds, and the sun. It was the calm that hushed the heart; the warmth that clasped between their laced fingers. It dulled dreams and hastened time, spilling the late-morning light against the disheveled interlude of their passion. It stirred the awake the first, who dragged herself over the peacefully sleeping face of her lover. She whispered to him the brimming parts of what made her joy. Her smile welcomed him the morning, and his warmth of his embrace kept them just like this.

And so, the rest of the world continued to move. And so too, to the rest of their blissful lives together. And so on and so forth, forever and evermore, said the Springtide

Chapter Text

Thirty layers of avarice and grandeur. Curtain walls of glass and polished stone erected to a concrete pillar, so imposingly grand that it made any of the surrounding buildings look humble. One long look would quickly tally up the bills and coins needed to call this place home, ascending with every floor until the neck grew tired from bending upward.

It was a daunting, yet oddly fond sight. The Pentagon. At some point, Fuutarou frequented this apartment building long enough to consider it like a second home. Though it had been a while since he last stepped foot inside, he remembered the layout fondly. The furthest room on the highest floor, the arrangement of the furniture and kitchens, and the troublesome girls that lived within those walls. He remembered how quickly both their faces turned to a frown as Itsuki was the first to greet him at the door. He remembered the pleasant scent of Nino's baking, juxtaposed by the scent of charred leftovers that—much to Miku's shame—still lingered in the air. He remembered how loudly the floors rumbled with every boisterous footstep from Yotsuba, and how outright bizarre it was that Ichika was able to sleep through it all.

The thought was somehow amusing to him. To think that there was a time where he wanted nothing more than to be rid of those days. To collect his paycheck in the most painless and quietest way possible. Nothing more, nothing less. Now, however, he could admit a deep-set nostalgia crept up whenever he thought about that lively room on the highest floor. Like a part of him would not mind going back to those days, even if it meant being the reluctant tutor of five ambivalent disasters.

Though, as much as the thought would come and go, there would be some things that would just never change. Some things that he could never shake off—a facet to everything that made them friends and partners. Fuutarou tugged the strap of his backpack, feeling the familiar weight of textbooks and notebooks within.

He pressed the intercom button.

"Hmm?" the voice buzzed from the speaker. "Uesugi-sensei? Is that you?"

It had been a while since Fuutarou was last called that, and admittedly, he was still not used to it. "Yeah, it's me. Is that you, Ichika?"

"Take a guess. You can't tell from my voice alone?"

Fuutarou sighed. "I'm not playing this game with you. If it isn't you, Ichika, then can you let her know that I am here for our study session. Either way, just buzz me in, will you?"

"Boo. You're no fun." The voice behind the intercom laughed, and Fuutarou realized a little too late that the voice was definitely Ichika's. "Fuutarou-kun, do you mind waiting out there for a bit? I'm still getting ready, so I won't be able to open the door."

"Getting ready? It's already past noon. Can't one of your sisters let me in?"

"One of my sisters? Oh! About that. The rest of the girls are out right now, so it's just me here. Itsuki and Nino just went out so you'll probably run into them. They can probably let you in. Anyways, I need to go back up to my room and get dressed. I won't be too long, I promise!"

"So I'm supposed to just stand out here?" Fuutarou groaned. "Come on, I had to walk all the way here. Will you just let me in?"

"Fuutarou-kun, I should tell you that I'm still in nothing but my towel. Unless, maybe that's the reason why you're so eager to hurry up here? And after hearing its just me here?"

"Ichika—!" Fuutarou cupped his hand over the speaker, but it was already too late. The older couple behind him, that had so coincidentally approached at that very moment, could only offer an averted chuckle to the flustered boy in front of the building. He could not remember the exact look on their faces, as his eyes had already turned to the ground when he stepped away from the electronic podium. "S-sorry…" He politely bowed. "Go on ahead."

Fuutarou knew better than to try again. If what Ichika said was true, then there would be no one to answer the intercom. So, he decided to wait. At the very least, it would give him some time to go over the day's lesson plans.

Sway of the verdant leaves formed to disheveled shadows over his opened notebook. His hand slowly glided over the notebook paper, feeling the slight crinkle of the old pages underneath his fingertips. Red crosses and circles decorated the papers, and the impatient tutor could only shake his head as he looked at the neatly written name above—Nakano, Ichika.

Before Fuutarou knew it, a whole month had already passed. That was the short amount of time the acting institution had given Ichika to prepare for her study abroad. As much as the thought pained him, the most he could do for his partner was to be supportive in the way he knew best.

Tutoring. Instruction and guidance. Across that vast ocean, a whole new world awaited that immensely talented actress he proudly called his girlfriend, and the tongues they carried uttered words they could barely comprehend. They would have their work cut out for them. So, for five nights a week and the past four weeks counting, Fuutarou and Ichika had spent their evenings buried in books and practicing spoken conversation. After all, Ichika's English skills could use all the help it could get.

And today marked their last study session. An in-person session, when everything prior had only been through video chat.

"Well, speak of the devil," a voice interrupted his short nostalgia. Walking through the front entrance, Fuutarou noticed that Itsuki and Nino had just stepped out of the building. "Good afternoon to you, Fuu-kun. What are you doing sitting out here? Shouldn't Ichika have let you in?""

"Ichika was busy with... something, I guess." Fuutarou tiredly stretched as he stood back up. "And you two are looking well. Headed somewhere?"

"Shopping," Itsuki replied, tugging the strap of the tote bag by her shoulder. A rather large one at that, fit for carrying plenty of things. They both had one. "We've got a lot to do in preparation for Ichika's going-away party. We'll be making her favorite: Shiokara."

"…the squid has been fermenting in the fridge for the past month now." Nino crinkled her nose at the mention of it, and admittedly, Futuarou did the same. Raw fish was something he could never stomach, and not even after Ichika coaxed him into giving it a try on some of their dates could convince him to change his mind.

Itsuki looked between both of their faces, raising a curious brow. "Oh come now, you two. How can you not be excited? Shiokara is so delicious, especially when Nino makes it, and it's been a while since we've made some!"

"Because, Itsuki, the last time we did, we couldn't get the smell out of the fridge for weeks." Nino sighed, brushing the ends of her hair with the back of her fingers. "But if it's for Ichika, then I suppose I don't have a choice, do I? We already went through all the trouble preparing it."

She then pressed a finger to Fuutarou's chest, an impish smile forming on her face. "And you, Fuu-kun, are going to eat every last bite we give you, got it?"

"If it's for Ichika," Fuutarou repeated her words, trying his best to hide any hint of reluctance.

Itsuki noticed the last of Fuutarou's books as he was packing up. "Studious as always, aren't you, Uesugi-kun? Are all of those just for English studies?"

"Yeah. All of what we've covered this last month."

"Sometimes I forget how passionate you can be about studying. I mean, look how thick those books and notes are! No wonder Ichika has been looking so dead tired lately." Itsuki remembered the time from many months ago, when she was once again his student, and promptly shuddered at the thought. "Imagine having to suffer through an entire month of those lessons. Day after day… the torture… Poor Ichika."

Fuutarou rolled his eyes.. "I could do without the sarcasm, Itsuki. Besides, you should have seen her conversational skills when we started. It was for her own good."

"Ahem." Nino crossed her arms. "Are you forgetting who else was helping Ichika with her English while you were too busy? Don't think you could get away with taking all the credit."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Nino," he replied. "You really knew your stuff. Thanks again for helping us out." As someone who had previously tutored her, Fuutarou was more than familiar with the second quintuplet's strengths. English so happened to have been her best subject in school, and he did not hesitate to enlist her help. Nino's keen interest in western media and entertainment provided not only a wealth of linguistic knowledge, but also a brief understanding of things no textbook could simply outline. Social scenarios, applied conversational skills.

Nino's favorite cooking shows provided long commentaries across a set of skills that already piqued her interest. Over time, Nino would find herself following along recipes without the need for subtitles or pausing for translations. Social media and travel bloggers provided a glimpse in the modern lives of those who lived overseas, and the cultural differences between America and Japan. Before they knew it, Nino and Ichika had carried the majority of their interactions in the recent days speaking only in English. Of course, there was an extent to how much they could learn that way, but Fuutarou could only take pride in both of their initiatives.

"Well, I don't know a whole lot about it," said Itsuki, "but Ichika does sound like she's improved a lot. So, good job. To both of you."

"Thanks," Fuutarou replied. "Anyways, I think I've given her enough time. Could either of you two please let me into the building?"

"Sure thing." Nino said. "You got it, Itsuki?"

"Yeah. Right this way, Uesugi-kun." She drew the apartment keycard from her wallet. But before she let him in, Itsuki covered the metal slot with the palm of her hand and then turned towards Fuutarou.

"Something the matter?" Fuutarou raised a brow.

"…just studying, okay?" Her voice came off as a low mutter, a little too quiet to understand.

"What was that?"

"You're here just to study, okay?" Itsuki repeated. "I meant it. You better show some responsibility while you're here. Ichika has a lot going on right now. She needs to stay focused and no… and no goofing off!"

Parts of Itsuki's face had turned a touch red and it looked as if she could hardly look him in the eyes either. Fuutarou could not tell where and when that all had come from, but at this point, he just wanted to go inside. "Y…yeah? Isn't that why I'm here?"

"Good." Itsuki nodded, and then nodded again. With a single wave goodbye, their old tutor had disappeared through the doors and into the Pentagon. From there it was no more than a short ascent through the elevator, where Ichika patiently awaited.

As Itsuki returned, Nino stood with a bend to her hip, raising a brow. "What was that all about?"

"Ugh!" Itsuki ruffled her hair, as if it could somehow shake thoughts. "I can't get that stupid thing Yotsuba said out of mind!"

"'That thing Yotsuba said?'"

"You know… what she said a few weeks ago? When Ichika… visited Uesugi-kun at his apartment?" Again, Itsuki recklessly shook her head. She remembered that shriveled 'Ehhhhh?!' that rang through their apartment that Saturday evening. She remembered the bewildered look on Yotsuba's and Miku's faces as she quickly marched down the stairs, asking if everything was alright. Something Itsuki would soon come to regret ever asking them. "T-t-that kind of stuff isn't any of our business. Now, all I can think about is if those two are all alone and—"

"You're over-thinking things again, idiot." Nino tapped her younger sister on the head. "Come on, we got some shopping to do. So just drop it."

"But, I mean, if Uesugi-kun and Ichika… well if he ever… if she ever… you know, if—t-then wouldn't that… wouldn't that basically mean Uesugi-kun saw all of us—"

"I said—" A sharp coldness encased Nino's words, and the glare in her eyes dared Itsuki to try another word. "Drop. It."

Itsuki quickly clasped her lips shut, nodding apologetically. They continued side by side down the street in silence. Though they had already dispelled the conversation, neither Itsuki nor Nino could hide the muddled thoughts that flushed a rosy tint over their cheeks. Perhaps it was because they were quintuplets. Perhaps there was some invisible, inexplicable force that left answers to questions neither of them wanted to ask. At times like this, it was best that they distracted themselves with their scheduled errands, and any other intrusive thought could be set aside afterwards.

Thirty floors higher. After a short journey through the lobby and elevator, Fuutarou found himself in front of the familiar doorway. A brief shimmer of gold traced the edge of the nearby name plate, where the name, 'Nakano', was illustriously etched. Through the notch of every bold letter, Fuutarou lightly ran his fingers through as to fondly remember the days past, before ending with a press of the doorbell.

The noise was faint, but he could hear the sound of footsteps approaching the door, followed by a playful sounding, "Coming!" as she neared. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as he was concerned. That was until his ears picked up a peculiar detail. There was an odd heaviness to the footsteps behind the door—sonorous, as it echoed within the doorway. It was like the sound of a flat heel clattering against the floor, but what reason would there be for Ichika to wear shoes just to answer the door?

He could not spare a single second more on the thought as the door clicked open. "Sorry for the wait!" Ichika answered in English. A playful smirk curled between her cheeks as she saw the slow realization on her tutor's face, from the dull look that always painted his face, to the slow widening of his golden eyes as he looked her up and down.

Stood at the doorway was a sight as well as he remembered it, though, the thought of seeing it outside of his memory stirred desires he never knew existed. Ichika was wearing a black blazer with white piping along the edges, collar, and pockets. Underneath was a white button up shirt with the topmost button purposely left unfastened, tucked into a green skirt that ended a few centimeters short of her mid-thighs. Around her waist was a thin yellow sweater that trailed a little further past her skirt. And ending past the long length of her exposed legs was a pair of white ankle socks fitted into dark brown loafers.

Asahiyama High School's uniform—their old school uniform.

And the longer Fuutarou continued to stare, the more he realized just how perfectly it still fit her.

"Aren't you going to come in…?" Ichika's smirk grew wider. The glimpse of the unbuttoned parts of her top grew more tempting as she leaned forward, her voice growing more coquettish as she drew closer. And only now did Fuutarou realize that his mouth was slightly held agape, as Ichika had lifted up his chin by the tip of her finger. "…Uesugi-sensei?"

"I-Ichika! Why are you—" Fuutarou's first thought was to look over his shoulder, as if he were somehow doing something wrong.

"Ahh… so you actually are into this kind of thing, hmm?" Ichika winked, placing both of her hands over chest. The look in her eyes narrowed as if picking apart the places on her body where the flustering man had laid his gaze longer. "Naughty boy," she said in English.

"Ichika!" Fuutarou blurted again, although this time, his voice broke a little under the sheer embarrassment. It felt as if steam puffed out of his ears the more he babbled his words, but nothing that left his mouth made any sense.

"Oh, that's right." She cleared her throat. Her hands quickly seized him by the wrist, drawing him closer to the whimsical scent of her perfume. "I mean—Uesugi-sensei."

The door shut behind him.

There was hardly any room to protest as Fuutarou found himself stumbling over his own feet the further he stepped in. Ichika had a deathly grip on his wrist, as if refusing to let go even if it meant breaking it. "Hold on, hold on!" Fuutarou hollered, but he was so easily ignored. "Ichika!"

They entered the living room. At some point, Ichika had nudged him ahead of her so that she may strip the bag from his back. Slams of the heavy books within sounded as the bag was tossed aside. And Ichika was hardly finished. Step after clumsy step, Fuutarou stumbled until he finally tripped over his heel—or rather, he was pushed. He fell backwards onto the soft cushions of the couch, all the while hearing the playful giggles that followed after him.

Climbing after him.

Ichika's thighs wrapped tightly around by his sides, promptly seating herself against his lap as to stop him from squirming. When his eyes drew upward, the first sight to snatch his gaze was the ravenous, desirous look in her sapphire eyes, and the quick lick of her lips as her hand pressed down against his chest.

For a single moment, the look in her eyes changed. When the shove of her hips forced an indecent groan from her lover's lips; the same moment a sudden jolt up her backside straightened her upright, instinctively making her tuck her elbows into her ribs.

Narrowing her gaze, Ichika drew closer to him. She realized right then and there, how easy it was to tell which parts of him could and could not lie. She felt the honest parts of his body. Her fingers slipped past the collar of her shirt, slowly tugging the black strap of her bra. "I've always dreamed of doing this with you…" Ichika amorously cooed, "…Sensei."

The look in Fuutarou's eyes grew the widest it had ever been. Thoughts raced quickly through his head, and the more he dawdled on the words, the less his body wanted to resist. To feel the weight of her body against his. The limitless desires that grew from the short days they had spent apart. Her hands guided his to wrap around her waist, and he so easily let her. For some inexplicable reason, the name called out from his mouth, "N… N-Nakano-san—!"

And so suddenly, a distant crack followed by a carbonated hiss turned their blushed stares cold. It had come a little further behind them—from the kitchen counter.

A can of matcha soda, cracked open by the tab. And the quintuplet that had been innocently standing there the whole time.

"—Miku!" they both yelped. They turned to her, then back to themselves, then back to Miku, and scrambled off of each other. Ichika stepped back onto her feet, straightening her skirt with a nervous laugh. "I-I thought you… I thought you already left!"

The can of matcha soda rattled between her hands, spilling a little into the tin rim. "I-I-I…." The flustered quintuplet eyes darted and swirled, turning everywhere except for the obvious display of intimacy in front of her. If only it were that easy for Miku to ignore, as she crudely sputtered, "I… forgot something, so I came back. Uhm… I c-called out to you, but I think you were showering and ahh… I was…" It looked as if Miku had remembered what the cold can she had been holding the entire time. "This! I wanted to get this before going back out! Matcha soda!"

The third sister stood there for some time, holding her soda as if presenting to an audience. Silence was all that filled their space, drawing awkward breaths from their opened mouths. For some reason, Fuutarou felt as if it were his responsibility to speak up. He stood back up, holding up a hand. "H-hey, Miku. It's been a while, huh?"

He casually took a step forward. As soon as he did, Miku took a step to the side. Cautiously. "Uhm…" said Fuutarou. "Mi—"

"I should get going!" Miku blurted out. "S-sorry for interrupting! I'll forget I saw anything!"

"Wait!" Fuutarou reached for her hand. "It's not like that! We were just—"

Miku inhaled a sharp breath as she felt his tight grip around her wrist. "It's okay, it's okay! It's… it's normal for couples, right? You're just about that age. Ha… ha…"

"I was just messing with him, Miku!" Ichika quickly joined in, wrapping her fingers around the same hand Fuutarou had grabbed. "Honest! I thought it would be funny to see how Fuutarou-kun would react! We both know he wouldn't have the guts to do anything like that, right? He's Fuutarou-kun, after all."

Fuutarou snuck a sideways glance, but he at least knew that now was not the time for rebuttal.

"No, no, no." Miku nervously shook her head. With every step she took towards the door, the more she had to struggle to worm her way out of their combined grasp. "It's quite alright. I… I mean, we've been knowing for some time now."

"You what?" Ichika's poor attempt at a softening laugh would put any actress to shame, yet she continued to dissuade her younger sister, "What are you talking about? You girls are just so—"

"On the phone," Miku interrupted. "I mean, Yotsuba and I… overheard and we thought… well, you know, you seemed a little... different when you came back..." Miku did not bother to finish the thought. Instead, she took advantage of the slow confusion on both their faces to slip her fingers away. Her face had grown a few shades redder. Before any of them could say another word, Miku tugged her headphones over her ears and quickly made for the door, apologizing one last time. "S-sorry! I'll forget I saw anything!"

"Miku—!" they both called after her, but she was already out the door, leaving the two of them alone in the apartment.

For a while, Fuutarou and Ichika stood in silence. Slow, hesitant silence. Every passing second warped the look on their faces, drawing palms over their faces, fingers strewn their hair, and deeper shades of red from ear to ear. The first to finally speak was Fuutarou, muttering under the fold of his fingers, "I hope you're happy with yourself, Ichika."

"M-me?!" Ichika quickly raised her tone. "I was not the one who was making weird noises!"

"Weird noises?! Well I am sorry that not everyone expects to be handled in that kind of way out of nowhere! How could you not have known Miku came back home?!"

"I was in the shower! And don't act like you weren't getting into the little roleplay too, Fuutarou-kun. You even called me 'Nakano-san' at the end." Like it was instinct, Ichika had inched closer to him. Her cheek nudged closer against him, trailing one finger down his chest. The reddish tint that still lingered at her cheeks, however, was slow to follow her initiative. "You were just about ready to take control, weren't you? Just what were you planning on doing to this poor, defenseless student of yours? That is no good at all, Uesugi-sensei."

"Please… please just stop." He sat back down, burying his head into his palm. The ends of his ears and cheeks felt scorching hot, like he could shrink and deflate from existence. "I don't know what came over me. Please forget I said that. And besides, you said it yourself—you were just messing with me. Like you always do."

"Hmm? Are you sure about that?" Ichika sat down beside him, pushing her shoulder against his. "We're alone now, aren't we? Maybe if you grabbed me and threw me onto the couch, we can pick up where we left off..."

Their faces were close. From where she sat, Ichika could pick apart every detail of his face that reacted with the suggestiveness buried in her cadence. She snatched a quick kiss from his lips.

Stiff. Unprovoked and unchanged. When they parted, all that was left was an empty feeling. Like something had been snatched right from where they stood. A forced cough escaped Fuutarou's mouth as he looked off in the distance. "The mood is… umm…"

"…kind of dead, huh?" Ichika chuckled.

"Not like we should have done anything, anyway." Fuutarou sighed. He picked up the bag that was callously tossed onto the floor and brushed the dust off the fabric. "Did you seriously go through all that trouble just to get a reaction out of me? We're supposed to be studying today."

"You'll never know, now will you?" She mischievously grinned. "And it's always, always with the studying-this, studying-that, when it comes to you, isn't it, Fuutarou-kun? Come on, we've been at it almost every night for the past month now. You finally get to see your cute girlfriend all dressed up just for you, and all you want to do is study?"

"More or less." Fuutarou plopped a notebook onto the living room table. The strict look on his face was a lot harder to take lightly when they finally saw each other in person, as Ichika would soon remember. "A month was hardly enough time to get you to a basic conversational level. If we just had more time, we could have opened up the advanced textbooks."

"Oh come on! I've been working my butt off here." Ichika groaned. "Can't we just take it easy today? Can't that be a going-away present from the world's most wonderful, most handsome tutor? I even made sure my sisters were all out. Just for us."

The thin end of a notebook lightly tapped the top of Ichika's head. "So that was it, huh? I should have guessed you would eventually try something to escape a study session. Very slick of you."

"Ha ha..." She nervously shrugged. "You caught me. Am I getting that sloppy.?"

"I had a hunch, I suppose." Gently, Fuutarou patted the short length of her hair, pleasantly laughing to himself. "I just remembered how much trouble you were as a student. How many times do you think I had to work around your schedule, just to get you to sit down and study? Some things don't ever change. But, you should know by now how seriously I take studying, Ichika. Now that we're in-person I can make sure you are not slacking. Now, sit up. We got a lot to review."

Ichika gave a halfhearted sigh, then smiled. "Some things don't ever change, huh? Alright. Fine. Give me your absolute worst."

Hours passed at the flip of a hundred notebook pages. From the old, error-ridden test papers of their second year at Asahiyama, to the final chapters of the last English textbook. The two of them—no, Ichika—had come quite a long way in the stretch of a single month. Nothing as far as complete fluency, but impressive all the same. Words of the foreign tongue had assimilated with her own, confident in every phonetic that trailed off the tip. Whenever the strict tutor would recite a question, the hard-working actress answered back with equal prowess.

"…pleased to meet you. My name is Nakano Ichika."

"…how much does this bottle of water cost?"

"…excuse me, which way is the nearest bus stop?"

"…I would like a check, please."

"…sorry, I do not understand the question. Could you please repeat that?"

"…it is 4:47 pm."

"…where is the restroom around here?"

"…goodbye. I will see you tomorrow!"

"…thank you! I am truly flattered, but I already have a boyfriend. There. Are you happy? You should see the smug look on your face right now."

A warm, amber light drew lengthy shadows across the apartment room. Their final study session had carried well into the afternoon. Fuutarou returned from the kitchen, carrying two cans of coffee. "Alright, we've made good progress. Do you think we should focus on…"

His voice slowed as he rounded the couch. Resting with her head dipping to one shoulder, Ichika looked as if she had suddenly fallen into a peaceful sleep. Strands of pink loosely fell over her face, and the soft, steady beat of her breath urged Fuutarou to cautiously sit beside her. He could not help but feel a little guilty. It was not as if he enjoyed being this strict. It was just the way he always knew how. Now that the thoughts had finally settled—the last of their days they could spend just like this—all that remained was a permanent sense of longing. Like he had already started counting the days.

Fuutarou gently brought Ichika down to her side, letting the exhausted actress place her head onto his lap. "Was I a little too hard on you?" Fuutarou muttered. He brushed his fingers through the ends of her short hair. More of his lover's peaceful expression revealed with every strand he pushed away, and he never noticed how long he had sat there, completely breathless.

"Sorry…" Fuutarou whispered to her sleeping face. "You've been working your hardest, Ichika. I know you have. You're always doing your best in everything you do, and I… I wanted to take this as seriously as you take your acting. Now that I think about it, I probably got a little too carried away, didn't I?" He continued to softly brush her hair. He could not help but continue to dwell on the memories they shared in this room. "What was that you told me before, Ichika? That a good tutor should praise their students more?"

The distant sunset grew dimmer as his eyes trailed to the balcony. He looked to the parted clouds and the orange skies that spilled light into their room. He looked to the colorful party streamers that hung over kitchen counter, to the decorative banner that boldly read—'Good Luck, Ichika!' with a doodle of a winking face. Trays of food and drinks lined up on the dining room table. Balloons puffed and scattered across the floor.

And beside the wall, Fuutarou saw the line of packed yellow suitcases and luggages.

"There's just never enough time…" Fuutarou continued tenderly. He brushed a few strands that covered her ear. "Ichika. You're going to knock them all out over there. I know you will. You've always been the one to shine brightest, but you also got to remember to take good care of yourself too. Make sure you fix that terrible sleeping schedule of yours, and always make sure you get enough to eat. Don't worry, everything is going to be great. I'll be right here, wishing you luck. Everyday. Every single day. And… I'm proud of you, Ichika. I am incredibly proud of you."

"Fuu…tarou-kun…" Ichika lightly stirred in his lap.

"You were still awake?"

Ichika weakly nodded, neither lifting her neck nor opening her eyes. "…while I am gone… watch over the rest of them for me, okay? Itsuki… Miku, too. Nino… and Yotsuba… They're good girls, and they're trying their hardest too, and I… can't help but worry about them. Their big sister... won't be around for a while. Take… good care of them. For me…"

"What are you saying at a time like this?" Fuutarou sighed. "Always being the oldest. Always worrying about others… aren't there things you should be worrying about yourself first?"

"I know, I know…" Ichika drearily muttered. "But… do you promise…?"

Fuutarou leaned his head back, slowly closing his eyes. "I promise, Ichika."

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 — Ittekimasu; Itterasshai

A lonesome breeze blew. Cold of an early spring morning—slowly creeping through the tended grounds. Curving, coiling. Throughout the ordinarily solemn enclave, a perpetual peace settled across the long rows of erected stones placed side by side. Each stone, a monument. A pillar of existence and being—of all the lifetimes that once lived—nobly etched across its surface.

A bundle of flowers rested within the stone vase. Tribute left from those that still proudly carried the name, dressed in the abiding fragrance of burnt incense. To the visitors that stood along the stone pathway, it seemed a little too coincidental. A little funny, in a morbid sort of way. Out of all days, today so happened to fall on the fourteenth day of the current month. The same day as their mother's passing.

The clasp of her palms met a short distance from her nose, and she took a deep breath.

"Mother." Ichika slowly looked up towards the grave. "It's me—Ichika. I know; it's a little early in the year for me to be making a visit. You're probably used to it being only Itsuki visiting around this time, huh?"

For a moment, the eldest daughter squatted still. Her lip would nudge at the thought of her next words, then so suddenly start over again. The calm of her breath did not waver, even as the jumbled miscellany that were her thoughts continued to run through her head. Ichika took another long breath. "I don't think I ever found the time to formally tell you this, but I… want to be an actress, Mom. I've been working hard at it and I really love it. Sometimes, the work can be a little tough. The hours are long, scheduling is a mess. The people aren't always the nicest, and sometimes I come home really tired. But… I really do love it. It's all I've ever wanted to be."

Ichika stared at the ends of her shoes. Her fingers brushed gingerly over the bits of dirt, repeating the strokes over and over so that she may gather the thoughts. It was a strange feeling. To think that she could somehow be this nervous, but the more she thought it over, the more difficult it became. This was her mother. The one who the five of them revered as the strongest, the most selfless, and the noblest woman they would ever know. Nothing could ever change that.

"Mother," Ichika repeated. There was a tight feeling in her chest, reaching slowly up towards her throat. The words suddenly became the hardest things she ever had to pronounce. "I… am going to be away for a while. Far away. I am going somewhere far away from home; someplace where everything is so different from what I'm used to. And if I can be honest, I am… scared." As if belittling the uneasiness of her heart, Ichika laughed. "I am terrified. I could hardly sleep last night because I was shaking so much. Would it be that bad if I just chose to stay instead? I don't think it's really too late, either..."

She slowly shook her head. "No matter how many times I ask myself, I still don't know. I've never been so sure and unsure over anything in my life. Deep down, I'm worried that I won't have what it takes; that it must have been some kind of mistake. Have you ever had those kinds of doubts too, Mom? Do you think that I made the right decision?"

Ichika drew her eyes to a close. "But, I know, no matter where I go, I will never be alone. The five of us will always, always be together. You, Grandpa, and Dad too. I know that you all will always be there, watching over me." A hopeful gaze gleamed as she looked back up. "I have all of you, and… another troublesome person that will always be with me too…"

Ichika slowly stood. She reached her fingers to her side, meeting with the patient hands that had quietly stood beside her.

"This is… Fuutarou-kun." She glanced slowly between the grave and to her partner beside her. She had almost forgotten the chill of the morning air, as the warmth between her fingers and rosy cheeks took over her. "Uesugi Fuutarou-kun."

Fuutarou politely bowed in front of the grave. "H-Hello. It is nice to meet—no, I mean, it's a pleasure, Nakano-san. I promise that I will take good care of your daughter."

Ichika giggled. "This is the tutor we told you about. The one who helped us graduate, and the one we all became so close to. Mom, you always told us to be careful about the man we end up choosing. Fuutarou-kun can sometimes be a little aloof. He can sometimes be insensitive. Sometimes a little mean, And there are times where his patience is spread a little too thin."

"Oi, Ichika. What kind of impression are you—"

"But, even so, Fuutarou-kun is the man I have chosen to love." Ichika tightened her fingers over his, looking his way. A pleasant grin formed on her face as she saw that bashful look she always adored. "And Fuutarou-kun… chose to love a spoiled, selfish, and stubborn girl like me. He puts up with all of my mistakes, and all of the trouble I put him through. He sees the real me. He chose to love all of me. I'm sure that if you were still with us, Mom, you would have liked him. You might have even gotten along."

Her fingers slowly slipped away, placed now over her knees as she squatted back down beside the grave. There was a slight droop to one of the flowers as it tipped to the side of the grave, and delicately, Ichika fixed it. Softness of the petals glided through the gaps of her fingers, and she could not help but remember those words. 'Ichika'. When she was alive, her mother had told her and her sisters that each of their names meant something special. 'One Flower; First Blossom'. To Ichika,it professed her as the firstborn—the first of others that were identical to her. That she was the first of five fifths. Nothing more and nothing less. In a bouquet just like the one that rests beside this grave, how easily could she determine which one bloomed first?

As important as anything else, it told her to stay humble. Through the highest accolades to the simplest of praise; through the different paths they will all travel—she shall stay humble. These next steps may take her to heights that many could only dream of, but a single flower is not without its roots.

"Sorry, Mom," Ichika continued, "I'm sorry it took so long for me to tell you about Fuutarou. I'm sorry that I haven't really told you… anything about me either. Itsuki is always the one coming here all by herself. Every month, since the day you passed away. I'm sure Itsuki tells you everything—all of her fears and all of her doubts. And when Yotsuba is here, she really tries her hardest to show you how cheerful she is—how cheerful we all are, as long as we are still together. And Miku… I'm sure you noticed how talkative Miku was the last time we visited. It really feels like she's grown and come to know herself, hasn't she? Nino too. She'll always tell you about all the challenges the five of us overcame together, and how inseparable we all still are. And for me…"

Ichika ran her fingers along the carved characters that read—'Nakano'. "I haven't been the most honest with you, have I? I've always quietly agreed with everyone else every year we visit here. I've always been a troublesome daughter and older sister. Even now, I'm doing something troublesome by leaving home. And now, what I want is…" Ichika's voice quietly trailed off before she looked towards Fuutarou beside her. The soft smile that lined his lips was every bit of patient towards her. It soothed the last nerve and quelled the last doubts that dwelled in her heart.

"I want to act a little spoiled. Just for a little bit." A wide smile grew on Ichika's face. "I'm always going off and doing things on my own. I'm not always the most honest person. And when I finally come here to visit you, it's because I want to ask so many things from you, Mom. I'm really being a handful right now, aren't I?" She happily laughed to herself, and Fuutarou could not help but give a halfhearted sigh past the smile on his face.

"Mom," Ichika continued, "What I want is to ask for all of your blessings. I want you to keep watching over me for as long as you can. I want you to forgive me for not always being honest with you and everyone else. I want you to forgive me for causing trouble for everyone and Fuutarou-kun. And I want you to forgive me for wanting so many things from you." She turned a mischievous grin beside her. "What do you think, Fuutarou-kun? Was that too much of me to ask?"

Fuutarou knelt beside her. "Well, since she is the mother of you and your sisters, I doubt that it would surprise her all too much."

The two of them laughed, then Ichika slightly motioned towards the center of her family's grave. "Do you have anything you'd like to say?"

"Me? Wait, like what?"

"Oh, anything! First impressions are always important, aren't they? And you want our mom to like you too, don't you?" Ichika playfully winked. "Don't worry, the others have put in a good word for you."

"Somehow, I doubt that…" Fuutarou cleared his throat. "H-hello again, Nakano-san. This is Uesugi Fuutarou, Ichika's partner. Um… Ichika and I have been together for over a year now, and it's been… a pleasure. I promise to you that I—"

He felt a sudden jab at his sides as Ichika playfully grinned at him. "You're being so formal, Fuutarou-kun. Come on, shape up! Speak with conviction!"

"What do you mean? I'm just trying to be respectful to your mom."

"She'll see right through you if you're trying that hard." She placed a hand over the left side of her chest. "Mom always said that love will show you the way. Between us sisters and the ones that we all know and love—nothing speaks louder than words from the heart." She poked him again. "Or are you too embarrassed to say it in front of her, hmm?"

"Okay, okay! I get it, now stop that. I'm trying to be serious here." He fixed his cardigan, then tried again. "Ichika… is a wonderful girl, and I consider myself lucky that she feels the same way about me that I do with her. She's kind, friendly, and accepting of others. She's always doing her best that I can't help but worry about her all the time. And Ichika… Ichika inspires me to be my best self. Everyday that I am with her…"

When he had turned Ichika's way, Fuutarou was surprised to find that the eldest quintuplet had slightly looked away. The back of her hand held up beside her cheek, poorly covering the slight tinges of red that brightened her face. "Fuutarou-kun… hold on, hold on. Why are you looking at me like that? I'm just… a little embarrassed. F-for you, I mean! I meant for you! I-I didn't mean that you should start saying things like that so openly. We're not even the only ones here…" Her voice quietened the more and more she mumbled, until she finally covered the side of her face. "Stop looking at me like that. It's weird. I know you're just doing this t—"

She felt Fuutarou gently place his fingers through hers, bringing it down to their sides. "…and everyday that we'll be apart." Though he pleasantly grinned to himself, Ichika could not help but sense a bit of mischief behind that smirk. Like he did not want her to look away from him—like he wanted to tell her just one more time. "I'm going to miss her until it drives me crazy."

Clasping her lips together, Ichika turned the side of her eyes to him. "I'll… miss you a lot too, Fuutarou-kun. I… oh! I mean, sorry. You were supposed to be talking to my—"

"R-right." Fuutarou pulled his hand back and scratched the back of his head. It had dissipated all too quickly and all that Fuutarou was left with was the fresh memory of everything he had boldly stated a few seconds ago. "That's… my bad. I got a little carried away…"

And right then and there, Ichika knew the right moments when she could strike back. In the ways that she knew best, all for every little victory that she could hold over this easily flustered boy, though she still carried a few tinges of red on her face. "Oh, what's wrong? Don't let me interrupt you now, Fuutarou-kun. You were just telling my mom what you love most about me, weren't you? Do you really, really mean it, or are you just trying to impress her? Go on, go on."

"I… think I've already said enough." Fuutarou began to stand back up, but Ichika was faster. She had grabbed him by the wrist and urged him to stay. The ends of Ichika's wrist pressed beneath her chin, and the pink-haired girl playfully leaned in so that she hovered closely beside Fuutarou's face. And the more he refused to say anything else, the closer Ichika's widened blue eyes and eagerly anticipating smile drew.

"Oh! Fuutarou-kun!" By the time he realized she had nudged herself a little too close, Fuutarou had already fallen flat on his backside. Ichika leaned over him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Fuutarou brushed a few leaves off of his jacket and pants. He looked up to Ichika as she offered him a hand, but neither could stop themselves as they fell into a short fit of laughter. Joyfully within the peaceful grounds of the cemetery, the two of them laughed.

"Having fun, lovebirds?" A voice eventually approached them. With a cross to her arms, the girl devilishly smirked. "I'm sure Mom already accepts Fuu-kun. Now let the rest of us get a few words in too, before we miss your flight."

Ichika laughed. "Sorry about that, Nino. Didn't mean to keep everyone else waiting. Come on, Fuutarou. Up you go!"

When they were ready, Ichika looked back towards the entrance of the cemetery, where the others patiently waited and beckoned them to join. Of her other sisters, Yotsuba was the quickest to step forward, followed by Itsuki, then Miku. They took only a few steps through the stone pathway before Miku turned around. "Aren't you coming too?" she asked.

Miku was met with a hesitant silence. Before they could so much as attempt an excuse, Yotsuba turned with an attentive perk to her head. The energetic sister did not hesitate to trot back down the path, merrily chanting the words, "Yeah! Don't just stay back here!"

Both Miku and Yotsuba took either cuff of the fitted suit. They relentlessly persuaded him, adamant with every step they dragged forward, despite his assertion that he was fine waiting right there. As they approached halfway up the trail, Itsuki turned a pleasant smile toward them. "We're all waiting for you too, Father. It's our first time visiting Mom all together, isn't it?"

"Is that so..?" Maruo tamely replied. At some point, he no longer bothered to protest against his daughters as they continued to gently nudge him along. For reasons unknown to him, Maruo had let his eyes wander over the passing gravestones. He looked over the fine cuts of the stone walkway, and to the carefully tended grass that burrowed in between. Though he could not convince the girls pulling him along otherwise, there was still a feeling dragged his footsteps along. A certain discomfort that served as his anchor.

"Dad," the voice called after him. As sudden as the breeze that carried the freshly fallen leaves, Maruo felt the tug at his arms grow light, and he took one long look ahead of him. There, patiently awaiting him by Rena's gravestone were the smiling faces of his five daughters. Standing honestly in the middle was his eldest daughter—a fully grown and brightly shining woman, radiating the same light that once and forever will inspire him. She held out her hand, refusing to speak another word until he had finally joined them.

Quietly, Fuutarou took a few steps back.

As one whole family, the Nakanos stood by their family grave. Through each and everyone of them, a mere glimpse into the unending love that bound them together. Time or distance; oceans and skies, they would remain together. They all collectively wished luck for Ichika, in her new and unknown journey that would await her. They reminisced over the days that lead up to here—of the day they first found out she was an actress, to the sudden day she declared that she would be studying abroad. Some were quick to mention, or possibly even protest, how ludicrous the entire ordeal still was. Nino and Itsuki spoke about how suddenly things had turned out this way. To think that it was not too long ago that they were all just attending classes together in high school. They loosely apologized to their mother that they could not convince her to stay, which the rest would happily laugh over.

Five voices for five lives. As joy-filled and benevolent as the day they first held hands. When Miku subtly pointed out that Maruo was rather reserved with his words, it was Ichika that offered him a place in front of the gravestone and Yotsuba would be the one to earnestly nudge him along. For a while he stood quietly. For as long as Maruo had visited Rena, it had always been in private. Alone. In the quiet loneliness of it all, there were not many times where he could find the words befitting of him. But his daughters knew the kind of man he was, and undoubtedly, so had Rena. The sweetest and most heartfelt words did not always come embellished. It sometimes fell brief, decorated only in the hopeful smile that wished nothing but the best of luck and safety to his daughter.

And as those minutes had fallen to their last, their hands ended in one last, hopeful prayer. The last of the offered flowers' soft touch had slipped through her fingers, replaced by the cool surface of the grave. Memories of these nineteen years that encompassed her, making the woman that proudly stood here today. From the earliest days and the long-haired child that always marched forward, a little too quick to grow up. From the actresses she watched with glistening stars in her widened eyes, and the little seed sown into that garden called 'dreams'. Ichika watched from afar as that little girl began to change. She carelessly sauntered and swirled in front of the mirror with every new clothing and uniform. She cut her hair and she pierced her ear. She played tennis and she privately recited her audition lines in her room. She lied and she loved—she loved and she lied. All of the moments she shared, and the dearest ones she held closest to her heart, right to the absolute last.

And slowly, the eldest daughter parted.

"I will be going now, Mom," Ichika said softly. "Ittekimasu."

Contrails carved through the sky. An endless expanse of azure blue and bespeckled clouds, clear as it could ever be from outside the terminal window. All around, the sound of continual murmurs as people passed, the din of rolling bags that trailed behind them, and the idle drone. Tall metal fixtures stretched high above them and the far-reaching walls echoed every sound in the distance. Although, nothing would ever compare to the long, turbulent whine of the aircraft engines that flooded from the outside.

As often as they would come across new roads to new locations, and as familiar as a map would always be—it would sometimes come as an unexpected shock to some as they remembered where they stood in the grand scheme of the world. Their whole lives had known only Tokai. One city to one prefecture. For one reason or another, they could find themselves traveling the long roads beyond—to neighboring towns or cities—but the way back home was never too far. In the eyes of the world, however, Japan was only a name among many. An island within the vast stretch of the ocean, and all of the different cultures that lay beyond the other side.

It was fortunate that they had arrived at the airport much earlier than they had expected. With a group as large as theirs, it was all too easy for someone to grow distracted with what turned out to be their very first visit to an airport. There was an abundance of signs and markings that directed them in every way for any scenario. There were colorful decorations and eye-capturing sculptures throughout the terminal. And they found out that the moving walkway served a little too much to some of their group's amusement.

"Slow down, you two!" Fuutarou called after them as they took off ahead. "Raiha, be careful, you might trip. And Yotsuba, don't encourage her! We'll be late if you two keep goofing off."

"Come on, let them have their fun." Ichika laughed. "As long as they aren't bothering anyone, it shouldn't be a problem. And we're here pretty early, remember?"

"I mean, I suppose… but it would probably be best if we—"

"Ichika." Two bright purple bunny ears nudged itself between them. Nino's phone case. The second sister had nudged her shoulder beside her sister, flashing a quick smile to the camera. "Smile for me, sis."

"Another one?" Ichika halfheartedly replied. "I thought we already took one, but alright." She pressed her finger to her cheek, offering a flirtatious wink as Nino took the picture.

"Hold on, there was some guy behind us looking at the camera," Nino grumbled as she swiped through. "Here. Let's take another one. Itsuki, Miku, come get in this one."

"Haven't you taken enough already?" Itsuki retorted as her sisters' shoulders began to huddle around her. "You've been—okay, okay, you're shoving me—you've been taking selfies ever since we got her, Nino. Just how many do you need?"

"Quit your whining and smile. You too, Miku."

"I am smiling," the third sister replied with a wave of her hand. "And look, I'm even holding up a peace sign. Yay."

"Come on! You're hardly trying at all. Really show off that smile."

"Like this?" Miku pushed the corner of her lips upward, forcing something a little too jubilant of an ordinary smile. One that did not quite reach the apathetic look in her eyes.

"Perfect." Nino tapped her phone.

"Wait, don't." Miku reached for her sister's phone but Nino had already begun walking forward. The third sister immediately followed after. "Nino, delete that picture. Now."

A smug grin formed on the second sister's lips. "Why? I think it captures your charms nicely."

"Knock it off. You better delete that picture, Nino."

Fuutarou called after them, "You're going the wrong way! Miku, Nino! The Southern Terminal is this w—"

The chime of the announcer speakers drowned out his voice. "Please remember that no food or drink is allowed past the security checkpoint… all personal items must be… we thank you for your cooperation and hope you…"

Shuffles of passing people quickly separated them, leaving Fuutarou with his hand over his head. "Will they ever just—ugh! What is with everyone today? It's like trying to take care of children. We still haven't checked in."

"I'll go get them, Uesugi-kun." Itsuki sighed. She rolled over one of Ichika's luggages to him. "Hold one for a second. I'll be right back."

"Oh look." Ichika pointed forward. "Yotsuba and Raiha are back. Anything caught your eye?"

"We saw the planes!" Raiha exclaimed. "You can see all of the airplanes coming in from the walkway over there! They're huge! You can probably fit hundreds of people in there! Big Bro, you gotta come check it out."

"We'll all see them soon, Raiha," Fuutarou replied. His eyes scanned across the various signs and markers, mindful of every last detail.

"Is Ichika-neesan really going to be flying in one of those things?"

"Yes I am," the oldest quintuplet replied. "One of these days, I'm going to take you with me, Raiha-chan. I have a feeling you'd be the type of girl who'd love to travel."

"Really?" A bright gleam reflected from Raiha's eyes. "You'd really take me with you? Where?"

"Wherever we would want to go, of course!" Ichika winked at the young girl. "So, while I'm gone, I want you to think about all of the kinds of places you would want to visit, okay? Big sis will make sure she takes you there."

"Do you really mean that?

" It's your big sister's promise to you, Raiha-chan. Count on it."

"You promise?" The look in Raiha's eyes grew wider. With both of her fists excitedly clenched, she turned to the two men beside her. "Did you hear that Dad? Big Bro? Ichika-nee-san said she's going to take me with her someday!"

"We're standing right here, Raiha," replied Fuutarou. He had a speculative look in his eye as he looked from Raiha's naive smile to the equally naive smile of Ichika behind her. Sighing, he turned to Isanari. "What do you think, Pops? Would you actually let Raiha go?"

A low grumble sounded under Isanari's breath as he carefully pondered the thought. "I'm not too sure… we'd have to renew her passport and we don't know what kinds of foreigners would try to push themselves on someone as cute as Raiha-chan. It might not be worth the hassle…"

"Hu… huh…?" The voice came quickly. A reduced, petulant tone, that either of the two Uesugi men were all too familiar with, and the kinds of responses that it narrowed down. Even if they looked away, the face in their imaginations would have been just the same if they looked down. "You wouldn't let me… go…?"

"…but if she's with Ichika-chan, then surely it will all be fine!" Isanari quickly added, with a puff to chest and a grin as confident as it was impulsive. Fuutarou rolled his eyes, but their father's words were enough to plug the tears before they spilled from Raiha's eyes.

After a short while, Itsuki had returned with the two lost sisters, who each turned away from the other with a puff to their cheeks. It would only take a short walk from their end of the airport to the other, where Ichika's assigned airline was. Traveling in a group as large as theirs proved to be a tad difficult, as it was not only difficult for the leading person, Fuutarou, to navigate through the large aerodrome, but also the crowds of people that shuffled around them. In a place as busy and fast-moving as this, it did not help that their group was led by an admittedly clueless boy. It should have come as a relief when Maruo had finally offered his assistance. The quint's father had traveled through this airport many times in the past and knew the way to the international airlines, and graciously led the rest of the group there. All Fuutarou could have thought, though, was why Maruo had not spoken up earlier.

From there it was a few simple steps. Check-in and print Ichika's boarding tickets from the nearby kiosk. Bring all of her checked luggage to the airline employees that would weigh it then place it down the conveyor belt. When it was all said and done, they all gathered outside of the last stop—security checkpoint. The concluding point where the rest of Ichika's family and loved ones could accompany her. From here, it would only be her moving forward.

Ichika tugged the strap of her carry-on bag. A light chuckle fell from her lips and the young actress pointed forward. "Well… I'll be going this way."

The one closest to her was Miku. "You know," Ichika began, "with how busy things have been lately, I never got the chance to ask you how things have been going for you in culinary school. Forgive me, Miku."

"It's no problem." Miku shook her head. "It's been a lot of work the past couple of days, but it's been a lot of fun too. Still can't get my cakes to turn out the way I want them to, though. Frosting and decorating will be the death of me, but… it's improving. Slowly, but surely."

"Well, the cake you made for my party turned out to be really tasty! By habit, I went and saved myself an extra piece in the fridge, forgetting what the next day was. Sorry that your Big Sis is so messy. Think you can finish that up for me?"

Miku chuckled. "I think I can manage that. But first, here, Ichika. Take these with you."

"Hm? What's this?" In Ichika's hands was a small package. A tiny box that rattled as it glided around her palm, along with a small packet.

"They're travel-size medications," Miku explained. "It might help you a bit on your flight, in case you need it. I read online that first-time fliers might suffer from nausea and stomach aches, so I thought it wouldn't hurt to have some in your bag. Just in case."

"Ha." Ichika chuckled. "Good thinking. I hadn't thought that far ahead, really. Thank you, Mi—"

Before she could finish, Miku had thrown herself into her arms. "Good luck out there…" Miku said, strengthening every part of the soft smile on her face so that it would not break. "…sis."

Ichika welcomed her. She patted through the length of Miku's hair, down to her back. "Thank you, Miku. Make sure to keep doing your best, too. Bake me another, tastier cake when I come back and visit. Promise?"

"I promise." Miku sniffled. "I… I promise."

Next was Itsuki. The fifth sister offered a slight bow to Ichika as she neared. "The day really has come, hasn't it, Ichika?"

"Looks like it has, Itsuki," replied Ichika. "Hope you can forgive me for leaving like this. I know Mom always said that we should always stick together."

"I'm sure Mom understands. Besides, we won't really be apart, will we?" Itsuki placed a hand over her heart, smiling. "Oh, and I also have a gift for you too. Let me see…"

She reached into her purse and brought out a couple of small woven straps. Tightly coiled with white and yellow embroidery floss, and an artificial leather tag at the end. "It's a luggage tag. From both me and Raiha-chan! It'll help you keep track and identify which bags are yours when you land. All you need to do is wrap it around your—"

Itsuki sharply and stiffly paused. A slow drop of sweat formed at her forehead as she looked to her older sister's face, realizing that Ichika had been looking at her with a widely amused grin. And Itsuki buried her face into the palm of her hands. "Oh. My, GOD! I-I-I should have given this to you before we checked in your luggage! I was just so distracted! How big of an idiot am I?!"

She felt a sudden slip between her fingers as Ichika took the handcrafted luggage tags. Then, with a gentle lift of her other hand, Ichika began to pat Itsuki on the head. "It's alright, it's alright, Itsuki-chan. I really love it. I'll make sure to put these to good use."

"Good use? How? We already checked-in your luggage."

Parting the last of Itsuki's bangs from her eyes, Ichika softly smiled at her youngest sister. "What do you mean? I'm going to be needing these when I make my trips back, won't I? It's not like I'm going away forever or anything, silly." She fingered the woven loop of the straps, twirling it around as she carefully eyed every carefully crafted detail. "You and Raiha-chan picked lovely colors, too. They'll look wonderful on my bags."

Ichika leaned in, embracing Itsuki. "Let's both keep working hard, alright? For Mom."

Itsuki closed her eyes. Now was not the time; there were still so many of the others left. "I… yeah. Yeah, Ichika. Let's keep doing our best."

"You're going to be a wonderful teacher someday, Itsuki."

"Thanks… Ichika."

Waiting patiently beside them was Yotsuba. Always bright and always cheerful, the fourth sisters did not hesitate to tightly squeeze her arms all the way around Ichika's chest until she lifted her off the ground. "Whoa, whoa! Yotsuba!"

"We'll all miss you so much, Ichika!" Yotsuba exclaimed. "You better not find better sisters than us in America! You're coming right back here when you're all done, okay?!"

"Okay, okay Yotsu—whoa! Alright, I will. I promise. Now, put me d—own!" Ichika tugged the collar of her beige trench coat, chuckling as she faced her excitable sister. "You're always so full of surprises, Yotsuba. The days won't be the same without you around."

Yotsuba rubbed the back of her head. "Heh… sorry. Might have gotten a little carried away there. It's just… it won't be the same with you gone, Ichika. I mean, we were used to you being gone when you had to travel for work, but this—"

"I know." Ichika smiled. "It's going to be different."

"Very! Super different! It'll be so different, I don't think I'll ever want to get used to it!" Yotsuba grinned. "You know, you really are amazing, Ichika."

"Hmm?" replied Ichika. "I mean, I'll take the compliment, but where did that come from?"

"Nowhere. It's just that you're really… really cool, Ichika. You're really taking a big leap and putting yourself out there. I was never okay with how some of your fans stopped caring just because you were dating. It even got me a little angry! You're just so… talented. So good at what you do. Sometimes, I forget that we're actually quintuplets!"

Again, Yotsuba laughed. A little longer than she realized, as the fourth sister would eventually hear solely her own voice. And steadily did her voice deaden, until she looked back up to her sister. To Yotsuba's surprise, Ichika was waiting for her with a visible puff to her cheeks and both arms crossed. "Hey now, Yotsuba," Ichika said, "since when have you become so forgetful? I can't believe you'd forget that we're sisters."

"Of course I wouldn't forget that, Ichika! I mean—"

"Good." Ichika lightly tapped the top of Yotsuba's head, scolding her. As she drew her hand back, the eldest sister began to fix the slight droop of Yotsuba's ribbons. She gently smiled as she looked Yotsuba back in the eyes. "Never forget that we're both sisters, and that we're both quintuplets. Our accomplishments and our failures—they're no greater or lesser between us."

"You say that, but I doubt it's that easy to be an actress, you know?" Yotsuba gave a halfhearted laugh. "Of course I can't help but be a little envious. Just a tiny bit, but of course I mean that in a good way! I guess, what I'm trying to say is… it's inspiring, you know? It gives me hope that I can one day put in as much as hard work in something that you do, too."

Ichika shook her head. "Being an actress isn't all that great either, you know. It's all just a bunch of flashy liars in front of cameras, with a little bit of makeup and a lot of superficiality. It means putting up with a lot of annoying things and making some sacrifices. Believe me when I say that I wish I had more of your energy, Yotsuba." She placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. "The dream that you'll set your heart on—it had better be ready for you when the time comes. Because there is nothing that could ever stop this sister of mine."

A slight pause fell over Yotsuba's face, until slowly, she nodded. She foolishly tried to disguise the swipe of a tear as she widely grinned. "Thanks, Ichika! You really do always know what to say, huh? Well, then I guess you won't be surprised that I also have a gift for you too. Gimme one second… ta-da!"

From the inside of her backpack, Yotsuba had pulled out a small statue. A statuette—one of a straightly standing man made of a gold-like material, standing atop a black pedestal. The plaque at the bottom read, "Best Actress. Nakano Ichika."

A replica. A replica of a classic accolade known far and wide.

"Oh, wow…" Ichika covered her mouth. "Where did you find this? It looks just like—"

"Like the ones from Hollywood?" Yotsuba proudly puffed her chest. "I had it custom-made when Miku and I went to Tokyo!"

"Yotsuba, this is really thoughtful of you…" Ichika reached for the golden statuette. "Though, I don't know if I'll be able to take this with me onto the plane…"

To Ichika's surprise, Yotsuba had pulled it away. "I know." Yotsuba mischievously grinned. "This is for you, but we're keeping it here—back at home! It's weird seeing your room so clean and empty, so this is going to go right on your desk. And you're going to be bringing home a lot more of these, but before you do, just know that your sisters gave you your first one!"

"Jeez… did you really have to say that part about my room?" Ichika laughed. They tightly hugged one last time.

It was only a short turn as Ichika made it to the last sister. "Well, Nino. I—"

"Just one sec," the second sister interrupted. They had hardly even made eye contact, as Nino seemed to be a little more preoccupied by the phone in her hand. As odd as it seemed to her and everyone else around them, Ichika obliged, idly standing as her sister went through her phone.

"Umm… Nino, I…" After a while, Ichika could not help but lightly laugh. "I'm trying to have a moment here. What are you doing on your—"

"There." Nino tapped her phone for the last time, then slipped it into her coat pocket. "Check your phone."

"My ph—" Before she could finish, Ichika felt a buzz from inside her coat pocket. A new message. Several of them. A complete album of digital pictures from only the night before today. A wide range from all the memories still fresh in the young actress's head, and a few not so familiar as the photos captured every possible moment they all shared. There were group photos with all of them huddled together. There were solo, duo, and trio pictures of all of them. There were messy photos and there were careful ones—sound and chaotic, just as they all were whenever they were together.

There was a picture of Yotsuba holding back Fuutarou as Nino and Ichika fed him spoonfuls of shiokara. There was a bashful shot of Miku as she closely held the karaoke microphone to her chest, and the rest of them cheering her on in the background. There was a surprise photo of Itsuki with a shrimp tail dangling from her stuffed mouth, and the bright red tinge of her cheeks as she met eyes with the camera. There was a serene shot by the balcony that neither Fuutarou nor Ichika were aware of, taken from behind them as Ichika gently rested her head on his shoulders. And there was a small collection of photos no more than a few minutes old, right at this very airport. All of that and many, many more.

"Those are the ones I promised to send you from last night," Nino stated. "And don't think I'm done yet. I couldn't finish going through them all, so you'll be seeing a few more later."

"More? There's already over sixty images here." Ichika swiped through a few more of the pictures, smiling. "I don't think my phone storage will last, Nino."

"Well you better start clearing up space soon. Uninstall some apps or back them all up somewhere." She pointed a finger in front of Ichika's face. "Because I'm going to be sending you pictures of all of us. Every single day. And you better keep every one."

"I can always check your instagram, you know."

"Don't care," Nino sternly replied. "I'll keep sending them to you, so that way, I'll know for sure that you get them. You'll see just how much fun you're going to be missing out on while you're gone. And don't you dare turn off your read receipts, either. Otherwise, you won't hear the end of it from me. Got it, Ichika?"

Ichika knew well enough to expect that kind of assertiveness from Nino, but there would always be times where she would be left without a quick response. The look in her eyes was enough to tell that she was not bluffing at all, and Ichika could not help but smile. "I got it, Nino. I will look forward to seeing them each and every day."

"Take care of yourself… alright?" Nino buried her nose into Ichika's shoulder. "…and hurry back."

"I will, Nino. Thank you. Thank you so much."

Next were the two men that stood a little further away from the crowd. A few steps to skirt the edge of their group, but that distance would hardly stop Ichika as she proudly made her way to them. As she neared, the older man who wore a dark gray suit politely bowed, and quietly stepped to the side.

"Where are you going, Ebata-san?" Ichika called after him, much to Ebata's surprise. "You're not sending me off without at least a goodbye?"

The old man chuckled. "Forgive me, Ichika-san. I've never been good with these kinds of things." Contentedly, Ebata made his way back. He could not help but remember the days from six years ago as he looked at the patient eyes on the young actress's face. How the years had quickly seemed to go by. "You've really grown, Ichika-san. I pray that you shall have a safe trip."

Ebata held out his hand and Ichika graciously shook it. "Thank you, Ebata-san," said Ichika, "for all that you've done for me,."

"It was my pleasure." Ebata bowed. He beckoned towards Maruo beside him. "Apologies for going before you, Nakano-san."

"It's hardly a problem, Ebata" said Maruo. He took after his secretary and offered his hand forward. "Congratulations, Ichi—"

And before he could finish his daughter's name, Maruo felt a sudden warmth wrap tenderly around his shoulders. From the tip of her toes, Ichika had lifted herself so that she could every so gingerly pull down this reticent man she happily called her father. The soft ends of her hair brushed beside Maruo's cheek as Ichika placed one quick peck on his cheek. "Thank you for taking good care of me, Dad. For taking care of all of us."

For a while Maruo was silent. He always believed that the way he was now was never quite worthy of such praise. Nothing that could truly be deserving of this warmth that fondly surrounded him. He had stood quietly at the sidelines during the crux of these girls' adolescence, fearful and uncertain of what it sincerely meant to be a parent. He knew that he could have done better. He wanted to do better. Surely by then, this thing they call familial love could deserve a permanent spot to settle in his heart.

Slowly, Maruo placed one arm around his daughter's shoulders. True as they all would come to know, Maruo was a man of few words, but none could ever deny that they were every part truthful. "You honor me, Ichika. I am immensely proud of you."

They let go, and Maruo reached into his coat pocket. He brought out a small, white box and handed it over to his daughter. "For you, Ichika."

Inside was a thin designer watch. A luxury brand watch, similar to the one that Maruo himself adorned on his wrist, although small and more elegant in appearance. It had a thin, silver-and-gold-toned strap and case that would perfectly embellish the young actress's wrist. Yellow canary diamonds embedded throughout the dial.

And curiously, there was a smaller clock within, behind the main hands. A subdial.

"I've already configured it for both time zones," Maruo said. "One for California; one for Japan. Let me know immediately if you require any assistance while you're away."

"I will." Ichika took the watch. "Thank you, Dad. Thank you so much."

Then, there were three. A wholesome and humble bunch that she had the greatest pleasure to have met in these slowly-passing years. "It really means so much that you came all the way here to see me off."

All three of Uesugis smiled at her. Isanari was the first to speak, hearty like every bit of his laugh. "We've told you already, Ichika-chan, you're practically a part of the family! We wouldn't have missed today for the world, right, Raiha-chan?"

"Yeah!" Raiha nodded as she eagerly approached Ichika.

Ichika welcomed the young girl into her arms. "Keep doing your best in school, alright, Raiha-chan? I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you so much, Ichika-nee-san!" Raiha cheerily said.

Isanari proudly lifted his arm, his hand formed into a firm thumbs-up gesture. "Since Fuutarou isn't around to take up space anymore, he went ahead and got us a brand new TV! Raiha-chan and I will be sure to grab ahold of some more of your movies! That way, it'll be like you never left."

Ichika covered her mouth as she laughed. "You flatter me, Isanari-san, Raiha-chan. But it's almost embarrassing to think you'd be watching some of the stuff from when I debuted. I promise you'll soon see a better, more-refined actress on the screen. Give me a few more years."

The four of them laughed together. Like they had always been a part of one another, they joyously laughed. Again, Ichika thought of just how fortunate her life had been that she could stand here today as every bit of the woman she had grown up to be. All four of her dearest sisters, her friends, her family. Even Oda and Kiku had thoughtfully sent a picture and message earlier that morning. As many times to the many days where the doubts would fester in her heart and her mind, moments like this were the greatest blessings she could ever hope for. It was almost too much for her to bear, however, as the oldest and for her own sake, she had to compose herself. More than anything, an actress should know composure.

Ichika would need every last bit of it as she faced the last person.

"And then there's you." Ichika playfully smiled. The tilt of her head gently swayed the pink strand of her hair beside her face. "You're the hardest one to say goodbye to."

It was just the two of them. Fuutarou carelessly sighed, then proudly faced his partner. "Believe me, it isn't exactly easy on the other end either."

Ichika laughed back, a little lighter and a little emptier than all the other ones from before. "Sorry again for making you go through with all of this, Fuutarou-kun. Find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"That's something you don't need to ask, Ichika. You already know the answer."

"Yet there will always be a sliver of doubt somewhere. Even with all the reassurance in the world." Ichika shook her head. There was a short lull where neither would find the words to say. "Ha. I never thought it would be this difficult. I really… don't know what will happen if I say another word."

"Then don't," Fuutarou plainly stated. He placed one hand on his hip, letting out a long sigh. "I think… we've said enough times over the past month. We've probably thought about this exact moment over and over again too. I've… thought about all the kinds of things I would want to say right now but…"

"…but it's nothing like the things that we do not want to say, huh?" Ichika finished for him. There was something vulnerable in the way she said that, like her voice had almost trailed to a whisper. "…I know, Fuutarou-kun."

"Ichika." Fuutarou slowly reached for her hand. His fingers fit just perfectly through the gaps of hers, tightening with every passing second until it would finally settle. He looked deeply into the colors of her rheumy eyes, wondering if she was doing the same through his.

Gently, Ichika leaned in, placing one long, loving, and wistful kiss on his lips.

As many words that befitted this feeling inside her head and her heart, there was only one that seemed just right.

"Ittekimasu."

"Itterasshai."

And so, did the rest of time solemnly pass. They all watched the last of the young, brilliant actress as she diligently stepped forward. The back of her short, pink hair slowly drew further away, becoming one with the gathering crowd. She made it through the final checks of the airport security, swept with the ever-moving stream of travelers that would eventually disappear behind the final walls that separated them.

One last time, the young actress would turn. One last time she would widely smile to those who carefully watched over her. One last time, a playful wink of boundless confidence, telling them that everything was going to be alright.

All the while, the ones closest to her heart watched and waved. They waited there until they could no longer make out a single strand of her pinkish hair. Then, they waited a little while longer. Long enough for each and every one of their earnest grins to slowly settle to content. The day had finally come.

Nakano Ichika was leaving Japan.

A somber lull had set upon the terminal gates. Every sound and shuffle that came from the surrounding passage of people would dwindle to idle muffle, insignificant to the many thoughts that traveled through their head. One by one, they turned. They stepped away from the railings that separated them from the security checkpoint. Slowly. Quietly. They all stepped away, save for one who still tightly clutched the rails.

"Nino…" Miku emptily called out. "We should… get going."

"I know…" the second sister slowly replied. "I'll… I'll be right there."

Beside them, Raiha took many back and forth glances across the sisters, then to the rest of their group. "Hey… has anyone seen Big Bro anywhere? He was just here."

"Uesugi-san?" Yotsuba attentively lowered herself to face the curious girl. There was a moment where Yotsuba had exaggerated a sort of scouring gesture, drawing one hand parallel to her brow. After a long hum to her breath, she quickly perked her head up. "Ah! I think I remember now! I remember seeing Uesugi-san going… this way!"

Raiha followed the point of Yotsuba's finger. "Over there? Didn't we come from this way?"

"Ha ha! Uesugi-san must have forgotten. Silly boy! Come on, we should go find him."

Overhearing their conversation, Itsuki shortly raised a brow. "Uesugi-kun? No… I am sure I saw him going the other—"

Miku placed a hand over Itsuki's shoulder, slowly shaking her head.

"Did you say something, Itsuki-san?" Raiha turned. She was already holding onto Yotsuba's hand.

"Yeah. Did you want to help us look for Uesugi-san too, Itsuki?" Yotsuba smiled.

"Oh um… no, I was saying that…" Itsuki waved both of her hands over her chest. "I was saying that you should probably hurry and catch Uesugi-kun. Before he gets lost."

"Will do!" Yotsuba saluted, and Raiha did the same.

At the same time, Maruo had walked outside of the departure gates. He tugged the cuff of his suit, carefully eyeing the slow ticks of his watch. It would be a short while until Ebata would return with their car. There would surely be some light traffic. Some possible short delays. A few moments where it was just him.

"Well, Maruo," a distant voice called, "it must be something to—"

And so suddenly did it halt. Isanari stood with both of his arms crossed, shaking his head as he looked at Maruo's back. It hardly looked as if the stoic man had heard a single word that he had said, and even if he wanted to, Isanari knew that Maruo would have wanted only one thing. "Jeez…" He quietly chuckled, stepping away. "So you really can show feelings, after all. You old spoilsport.."

Over time, their little search had turned to short adventures throughout the airport terminal. Raiha circled through the pillars and hopped around the various lines that decorated the floor, forgetting that they had initially set off in search of her older brother. There were still curious corners of the airport she and Yotsuba had yet to explore, and Raiha eagerly turned around. "Yotsuba-san! Yotsuba-san! Let's go see over—"

Raiha paused. She ran over to where the fourth sister had suddenly stopped. "Yotsuba… san…?"

She could hardly hear Yotsuba's voice, muffled by the slow draw of her hands which Yotsuba buried her face into. It took so much of her strength to stop herself from completely collapsing onto the floor. "Rai…ha…chan…"

"Yotsuba-san! Are you alright?"

One by one, the tears fell.

Yotsuba, who hysterically hugged the young girl beside her, repeating the bare sounds of words that she could not complete. Nino, who stubbornly refused to step away from the security railings, digging her fingernails into her skin as she clutched onto the metal bars. Miku and Itsuki, who each tightly embraced the other, feeling the shaking beat of the other's breath. Maruo, who quietly stood alone outside the terminal doors, slowly closing his eyes.

And tucked further away, within the confines of a closed bathroom stall, Fuutarou. The back of his shirt collapsed onto the closed door behind him. The back of his forearm drew over his eyes and his teeth tightly clenched together. Every guilty feeling—every selfish wish—that desperately carved its way into the walls of his heart. He was tired. Exhausted. He had fought that battle for long enough, and he no longer had the will to hold it back another breath longer.

The feelings swelled deep within his chest and clogged his throat. It reached deep into his insides, forcing every ugly and disgraceful sound his voice could utter. It wrung every last drop from the corner of his eyes until he could make the subtle taste of salt on his upper lip. And he could no longer find it within him to care.

And to the last. The woman that stood alone past the final gates, encompassed by the busy movement of everything around her. Nineteen years to her lifetime. Nineteen long years to this whimsical life of hers, where everyday was always the same faces. As many times as she could tell herself the fact, there would always be these few short moments of realization. This world she had stepped into—the one that they called adulthood. The few steps that separated the bliss within naivety, and the doors that permanently closed behind it.

This world that moved around her; this world that she had found her own place in. All of the decisions she had made to be able to stand right here, and all of the sacrifices she made all the while. Perhaps, at one point in these last few years, Ichika had thought she would feel a little more joyous on this day. Just a little more euphoric, after everything was said and done. Over and over, Ichika had pictured days like this. She should have known already.

She should have already known it would have been this painful.

Ichika realized just how desirous it was to stay naive. How frightening it was to finally grow up. One more door had finally closed behind her—one last curtain call of the small parts of her that still remained childish. If it were one more selfish wish that she could make, it would be to indulge in it a little longer, before she took another step forward. She cupped the palm of her hand over mouth. Her eyes closed tightly.

The gates were well behind her now.

Everything she had ever known was all behind her now.

And finally, Ichika wept.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 —Her Place in the World

Dry Swelter. Heat of a cloudless summer sky—surprisingly pleasant to feel against one's own skin. Heat that stripped away the most careless layers of cloth, teasing the sun-soaked romance of a bright summer's day. Fair and golden. Strewn about the city was an unaccustomed-to ambience, with every sight and every sound growing more curious than the last. The tall palm trees casted long, slender shadows that sliced through the sidewalk. Clamor of a hundred simultaneous voices drifted just over the ears, only to be drowned by the abrupt blare of city traffic.

Ichika slipped a finger underneath the collar of her shirt. Compared to the summers back home, the summertime of Los Angeles was a much more gracious heat. She had been here long enough to adjust to it, which by today would make it a little under two weeks. As intriguing as the days have been, it was also tiresome. There would be something new to discover each day; something peculiar that further alienated her from her surroundings. It had taken every last nerve within her to not come off as some stray Japanese girl who hardly knew her way around a foreign place.

When she had first arrived, Ichika had the good fortune of meeting with a few contacts—courtesy of Masaki Yusa, the young director that had referred her to the training program for promising young actors. Ichika was welcomed to a luxury five star hotel while a hired agent took care of finding proper residency for her. Maruo's advice. Her father's wealth, admittedly, was something she would have to rely on for just a little longer. In the meantime, Ichika had spent the days getting used to California . A few days was enough to get used to the language, the routine, and the layout of the city.

Though, if it was one thing Ichika still needed some more time growing accustomed to, it would have to be the people. The Americans. Ichika had never appreciated Nino more than she did now, as the American bloggers that they had previously taken the time to peruse and study had given Ichika at least some expectations. Americans were of a much larger variety—an amalgam of different cultures, traditions, and attitudes that more or less held together harmony within their vast differences. If it were one general assumption Ichika could surmise, it would have to be that Americans were generally a little louder in their speech, and a lot more interactive with the average stranger. She had never expected to have been approached as many times as she had, whether it be for a general question, soliciting a sale, complimenting her on her beauty, or even just to have a friendly chat.

Mornings were mostly the same. She woke at an early hour—early, if going by her standards—within the walls of her own luxury single-room apartment, situated in the affluent neighborhoods of the Los Angeles area. She eagerly checked for and responded to messages from back home; she went for usual morning jog; she showered and then dressed before setting off to the institution. Not too bad for her first handful of days, if she could say so herself.

"Friday already, huh…" Ichika muttered to herself. The clatter of her heels slowly paced through the tall corridors of the campus. Warm air brushed through the ends of her hair. Wide stone steps lowered to the campus's courtyard, where the students of the arts roamed. Most paced between buildings and facilities, chatting alongside friends or tapping through their phones. Others enjoyed a pleasant lunch seated on the outdoor tables. And there was a rather confident student that stood in the middle of the field, practicing the conviction of his lines for all to hear. Compared to traditional four-year universities—like from her earlier visit to Tokyo University—a school of performing arts was noticeably smaller in size.

Ichika sat down on a nearby bench. Her oversized sunglasses pulled past her nose, which she then gingerly tucked the temples of into her collar. "It's probably a little too early back at home…" she said as she eyed the palm side of her wrist. The main dial designated the current time, 11:17 a.m, and the smaller subdial was pointed seventeen hours ahead, 4:17 a.m. "The soonest to wake up would probably be Yotsuba, but that's still a little too early…"

Messages from all of her conversations scrolled through her phone.

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 1:55 a.m.):  "…all in all, my first week in the academy is going pretty smoothly. Looking forward to finally starting the weekend."

「  Nino  」 (sent at 2:02 a.m.):  "That's good to hear. Make sure you aren't pushing yourself too hard, Ichika."

「  Nino  」 (sent at 2:02 a.m.): 3 images attached.  IMG_48099, IMG_48100, IMG_481 …

「  Nino  」 (sent at 2:02 a.m.):  "We're having a Western style dinner tonight. Carbonara."

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:05 a.m.):  "Whoa! It looks so tasty! Gosh, I already miss your food, Nino. I haven't had a home-cooked meal in a while…"

「  Nino  」  (sent at 2:06 a.m.):  "Actually, Miku made dinner tonight."

「  Miku  」  (sent at 2:06 a.m.) : "It turned out a lot better than I thought. Though, Nino had to help with the presentation…"

「 Itsuki 」 (sent at 2:08 a.m.): "Ichika, doesn't your apartment have a kitchen?"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:09 a.m.):  "It does. Why do you ask?"

「 Itsuki 」 (sent at 2:10 a.m.): "Don't tell me you've been ordering takeout this entire time? That isn't healthy at all!"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:11 a.m.):  "I've been meaning to. Just haven't gotten around to it, haha! After classes tomorrow, I'll go do some shopping. Promise!"

「  Yotsuba  」 (sent at 2:16 a.m.):  "Wait, isn't today Friday? Why would Ichika have school tomorrow?"

「 Miku 」(sent at 2:18 a.m.): "Yotsuba, we've been over this. We're almost an entire day ahead of Japan, so it just turned Friday over there."

「  Itsuki  」 (sent at 2:20 a.m.):  "Wait, Ichika is still awake?! Isn't it like 2 a.m. in California?! Ichika?!"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:21 a.m.):  "Whoops, you caught me. Haha!"

「  Itsuki  」 (sent at 2:21 a.m.):  "Go to bed!"

「  Yotsuba  」 (sent at 6:11 a.m.):  "Good morning, Ichika!"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 9:21 a.m.):  "Good morning Yotsuba. You're up pretty late, aren't you?"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 9:24 a.m.):  "Oh, you sent that almost three hours ago. Whoops, you all must be asleep now. Sorry if I woke anyone up!"

「  Miku  」 :  (sent at 9:25 am)  "Good morning, Ichika."

「  Ichika  」 :  (sent at 9:29 am)  "You're still awake, Miku? Isn't it like, really late over there?"

「  Miku  」 :  (sent at 9:31 am)  "Don't worry about it. Good luck at your academy today."

「  Nino  」 :  (sent at 9:32 a.m.)  "I can't sleep with all of this buzzing!

「  Nino  」 :  (sent at 9:32 a.m.)  "Miku, why are you still awake?! Go to bed!"

Ichika leaned on her elbow. Conversations were something she expected to be a little difficult now that they were on opposite ends of the ocean, yet Ichika would still find herself looking at the ends of their conversation with anticipation and a tinge of impatience. It made sense; everyone of them had grown a lot busier with their lives. Sometimes, she would be fortunate to exchange a few messages in between classes, but those were few and far between. When she would have dinner, the rest of them would probably be in class or at work.

Disappointment fell from her lips as she tiredly sighed. Exchanges like 'Good morning' and 'Good night' left a lot more to be desired. That was especially true as she read the header of her current chat conversation—「 Fuutarou-kun 」—complete with a little heart emoji beside his name. Again, she knew better than to expect too much. Among everyone else, Fuutarou was undoubtedly the most diligent. Life as a student in Japan's most prestigious university, the amount of coursework that it entailed, as well as juggling a part-time job to assist his family. Ichika thought to herself that she should be thankful they could still keep a few short exchanges going throughout their day. It was just that, after a long and tiresome week, she thought it would be nice to be able to talk to Fuu—

Her phone almost fell from her hands. Something had suddenly appeared on her screen and she had instinctively shoved it closer to her nose. Three blinking ellipses, trailing close to his name.

「  Fuutarou-kun  」  is typing …

He's typing? Ichika thought to herself. She looked back and forth between conversation and the clock on the top-corner of the screen. She then checked it again, followed by another glance at the two-dial watch on her wrist. No, it was definitely correct. It should be 4:23 a.m. in Japan.

He's typing! Ichika repeated the thought, as if a part of her was still trying to convince her otherwise. It was just so unexpected for her. Why is Fuutarou-kun still awake? Is he having some trouble sleeping? Is he also thinking about me? And why is he taking so long to type it?!

If her sisters were here right now, they surely would not let the look on Ichika's face go unnoticed. The way she tightly held onto her phone with both of her hands, starring anxiously at the impending message. The slight tinge of red that lined her cheeks. It was as if she were practically a bashful, young schoolgirl texting her crush for the first time. This was her boyfriend! Her boyfriend of over one year already! What reason did she have to—

"Hey, what are you doing sitting here all by yourself?"

In her deep fixation, Ichika had not realized a set of footsteps had approached her bench. A few footsteps, as a matter of fact. A tall, casually-dressed boy had curiously—and invasively—leaned his head close to hers, perhaps to get a glimpse of what she was looking at on her phone. His blonde hair was leisurely curled and swept to one side. His eyes were a bright shade of blue, and when they had met with hers, he offered a wide grin. "Whoa, you're a cutie! What's your name?"

"Hu… huh?" He was close. A little too close to her. "I… uhm… sorry, I—"

"Oh, are you a foreigner? From where? China? Japan? No, wait… Korea!"

One of the blonde boy's friends joined them. "Hey come on, James. You're coming on way too strong there. Look, you're making her all red."

Ichika touched the side of her cheek, realizing how warm they felt. Moreover, these guys did not give her the most comfortable vibe. They were a little too close, and a little too friendly, too soon. Was that simply the way Americans greeted each other?

It was not like her to over-think things like this, and that was clearly evident in the way she responded. "S-Sorry, I am not interested in—"

"Ah, now look what you've done." The second boy nudged his friend's shoulder. "You've gone and made her uncomfortable! Now she thinks we're just a bunch of creeps hitting on her." He combed his fingers through his dark brown hair, then casually took a seat right beside Ichika. Uninvited. "Sorry about this idiot friend of mine. He should know that it's good manners to introduce yourself first when meeting someone new." He tilted his head, offering a slight smile of his own. "I'm Preston. What's your name?"

A halfhearted laugh forced its way out of Ichika's mouth. How interesting it was, to have to deal with two bothersome approaches at once. Though, it was not as if this was the first time she had been so brazenly approached since she first got here. The sooner she learned to get used to this specific extension of American courtesy, the better it would make for the rest of her stay here. "Nakano Ichika…" she reluctantly mentioned, then casually gathered her belongings. "It is a pleasure to meet you, but I should be go—"

"Ichika, huh?" The boy named James recited her name, much to Ichika's own visible discomfort. Being called her first name so casually was something she was still not used to, and the way this boy rolled the syllables under his cocky smile did not help in the slightest. "Wow, that's such a pretty name. 'Ichika…'. So, that is… Chinese, right?"

"Idiot, I'm sure that's Japanese," the third and last boy crudely laughed. "Get your countries right."

"Hey, lay off, man. I was close. It's not like I speak the language or anything."

"Forgive them," the boy named Preston said to Ichika. "They're both just acting like a couple of idiots. Look, we don't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, but a couple of us are throwing a little get-together later tonight. Something fun to celebrate finishing the first week, you know? Lots of people will show up and it'll be a good place for all of us to get to know each other, since our school has students from all over the world."

Preston gave a subtle look over his shoulder, and continued in a somewhat hushed tone. "And I don't like to make a big deal out of this to everyone, but there will be some… special people there. You know what I mean? Could maybe be some connections to a couple of big-shots here in Hollywood." After a subtle cough and wink, he resumed his normal, friendly tone. "What do you say? We'd love to have you there, Ichika."

Ichika felt a low rumble inside her purse. That had to have been Fuutarou's message, and Ichika could think of nothing more she wanted to do than to pull out her phone. "I—"

"Yeah!" James squeezed himself back into the conversation. "Beats sitting around all by yourself. We're in the same'Scene Study' class, and I noticed you don't talk a lot. Can't imagine why; you'd look like you'd be really popular with people. Come hang out with us. A girl as pretty as you shouldn't be all alone."

"Don't scare her off again, man."

"I hardly am. She's probably just a little shy."

Ichika held back her tongue with another forced smile. Regrettably, there was a begrudging truth behind what they had said. Yes, she knew that connections were worth its weight in gold when it came to this occupation. People from all over the world gathered at this prestigious academy, and not a single person admitted here was naive enough to believe that two years of training and a dash of talent was enough to make it big. No, it was a battle from the start. A war waged with false faces and hollow words, willing to do anything and step over anyone if it meant a few more seconds under the spotlight. She, like many other actors and actresses, have thought about it once every now and then, but all of them knew the answer—'that's show business'.

But what really irked Ichika was something else. It was true; she was here alone. It had taken her a little longer to notice, but all that lingered on her mind between all of the study and practice were thoughts of home. Thoughts of her friends, her family, and of course, her most beloved. From sunrise to sunset and a few more moments thereafter, that was all she thought about. The same lonely feelings that drew her eyes to two time dials on the watch around her wrist.

Homesickness. Plain and simple homesickness.

Without realizing it, Ichika had lost her edge. It should have been easy. She should have no problem turning down a couple of guys harassing her, but it was as if she had forgotten how to simply say 'no thank you'. There had been pushier guys before, and surely these three would not be the last. Why now, of all times, had she chosen to shy away her gaze? Why did their purposeful gazes make her fluster and doubt herself? If she did not know any better, she would assume that they enjoyed seeing her like this.

"I… I, ah… I am sorry, but—"

"Hey, you three clowns over there," a voice interrupted them. "Will you all get lost already? You're clearly making her feel uncomfortable. Quit bothering her."

They turned around. Stood with their arms crossed and a fierce scowl to their face was a tall girl with long, dark hair tied to a ponytail. She wore a short tank top that exposed her midriff and the sleeve tattoos down her right arm.

The blonde-haired boy cautiously put his hands up. "Whoa, whoa, Erika! Let's not go around causing misunderstandings. We were just inviting her to—"

"What you're doing is harassing her." The girl stepped forward. Her voice had a slight gruffness to it. Powerful and aggressive. Loud enough to attract the gaze of the nearby students in the courtyard. "Can't you see she doesn't want anything to do with you creeps? Now get up and fuck off. Before I call security on your asses."

Preston stood up. "We weren't doing anything like—" He paused. There were too many people looking at them now. He could catch sight of a few girls whispering to each other as they passed, turning looks of disgust as they made eye contact with him. He nervously looked to his friends, then to Ichika, then to the dark-haired girl that almost looked as if she were ready to throw a fist at him at any given moment. "We were just—I mean we were—ugh! Forget it! This is what we get for trying to be friendly, huh? Come on guys, let's go."

It only took the shuffle of a few steps for Ichika to feel as if she could breathe again. They were finally gone.

In her brief respite, Ichika had not noticed the girl had taken a seat next to her."Sorry for barging in like that," she said. "Those guys do anything weird to you?"

"No, that really helped me. Thank you so—" Ichika covered her mouth with her fingers. The look in her eyes grew wide as Ichika looked at the dark-haired girl beside her. "Wait… Japanese?! You speak Japanese?"

"More or less, but it's mostly for when I talk to my Obachan," she replied in full Japanese. A smug grin lined her face. "Does it sound a little off? Can you understand me?"

"No, no! It sounds fine!" replied Ichika in Japanese. "I was just… a little shocked. I didn't expect to meet someone here who knew how to speak my language, Miss… oh! I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first. My name is—"

"Nakano Ichika, right?" she confidently interrupted, much to Ichika's surprise. "Yeah, I know who you are. Hold on for a sec." She dropped her bag and began to dig through the contents. "Where did I… I know I had something… ah! There it is! Here."

Placed in Ichika's hands was a square board, with high-quality white paper laminated over. The surface felt smooth under her fingertips. It was something that she had seen many times already, yet the realization was slow to come to her, as she had not expected to be given one here. A shikishi board.

But before Ichika could so much as question why she was giving this to her, a peculiar detail had stuck out to her. There was something wedged along the back frame. Something smaller and flimsier, and when she drew it out, Ichika could no longer hold a straight face. It was a picture.

A picture of Ichika.

A picture from one of the promotional materials for one of her recent movies from Japan.

And so suddenly did Ichika's blood run cold. Now that she thought about it, the dark-haired girl that leisurely sat beside her looked scarier than all three of those boys from earlier combined. From this distance, she could make out every detail of the girl's sleeve tattoo. Crashes of waves, scatterings of flowers, and the fearsome visage of an oni that faced Ichika as she looked to the girl's shoulder blade. The definition of her muscles showed in her biceps and exposed abs, and Ichika no longer doubted that this girl would not have hesitated to throw a fist. She did not look scarier—she was scarier!

And for what reason did she have a picture of her? A stalker? A thug? Someone hired to find her? For what reason? She even knew Ichika's full name!

"Oh right," the tattooed girl inattentively continued, "I should have introduced myself first. My name is Erika. Sasaki Erika. I'm Japanese too, but I was born and raised here. It's a pleasure to meet—" She stopped herself as she looked at Ichika's pale face. Her brow raised curiously, until her eyes fell on the picture Ichika held in her stiffened hand. Ichika's lips were tightly clasped, and it seemed as if she was scooting away from Erika.

It took Erika all of a few seconds to connect the dots. "Oh! OH! Oh my god! Wait, wait! I-It's not what it looks like! I'm not—"

"Hu… huh…?"

Erika clasped the back of Ichika's hands, which only made the young actress let out a short, fearful yelp. "Don't run!" Erika quickly shook her head. "I'm not some kind of creep or anything, I swear! I-it's just that, I'm not good with remembering faces! That's it! This picture isn't even mine!"

"Remembering… faces…?" A nervous sweat dropped beside Ichika's brow. Remembering for what? And if this picture was not hers, then whose was it?!

"Just let me—ugh! Let me start over." Erika raised both of her hands, as if to appear harmless. For now it seemed, it did not look like she completely scared Ichika off. She took a deep breath, then politely bowed. "My apologies. It's just that my little brother is just a big fan of yours. I umm… promised him that if I saw you, I would get your… autograph. For him."

"Auto…graph…?" Ichika finally regained a bit of composure. Enough to look down at the shikishi board in her hand, and the realization finally dawned on her. "Oh… oh! I see, I see. So that's how it is." She breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Sorry, I'm just not in the right state of mind right now. I shouldn't have assumed."

"No, no. I was in the wrong." Again, Erika bowed as she handed Ichika something to write with. "I should have explained it better."

Ichika quickly scribed her signature across the square board. There was plenty of room to work with. A swift, precise scribble. A broad, underlining stroke. A wide, overarching curve. A flourish to complete a single flower on the bottom-left corner, accompanying a humble message written in Kanji and Hiragana, 'Thank you so much for your love and support!'

"You can make it out to, Sasaki Rei," Erika politely included. "That's my little brother's name."

"It feels kind of weird doing this again." Ichika lightly chuckled. "Never thought I'd be signing something all the way here. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm surprised that I have a fan all the way out here."

"Really? Is it that surprising?" Erika shrugged. "My family is pretty big on keeping up with a lot of Japanese TV. That's where I first heard about you. My little brother was devastated when he found out your agency declared that you were going on hiatus to study. Imagine my surprise when I saw your name floating around here, Ichika. Wait, I forgot. I should call you Nakano-san. It's not polite or something to call you by your first name, right?"

"It's alright. If I'm going to be staying here, then I should get used to it. I have four sisters too, so I'm used to going by my first name."

"Whoa, four? That's a quite a big family you got there. Though, I'm not one to speak, because I got three younger brothers myself." Erika laughed. "Anyways, where was I? Oh, right. Rei-chan is probably your biggest fan out there. He's watched every single one of your movies and he just won't shut up about you to his friends. He even has his own little fanclub dedicated to you. Boy is he going to freak out when he gets this."

"Tell him that I'm really thankful for him. That's really sweet of him."

"Sure thing. Hey by the way, are you busy with anything right now, Ichika?"

"Me? No, I suppose not."

"Cool." Erika stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Then, if you're willing, why don't we go grab some coffee or something? Sitting around the institute is cool if that's your kind of thing, but I'd rather be somewhere else on a Friday. I'll even treat you."

Twenty-four ounces. A plastic tube of blended ice, coffee, and syrup that greatly imposed the cafe table. A fluffy wig of whipped cream smeared against the walls of the dome lid, reflecting bright bits of sunlight down the length and along with swirls of caramel drizzle. Large. Enormous. Super-sized. Everything analogous of its sheer size, and the feelings of shock and awe thereafter.

A venti frappucino. Ichika had only heard about it, but it was something completely different now that it stood before her. This was nothing like the drink she had previously grabbed in the mornings back home. Twenty-four ounces—which she later discovered to be 700 mL—of blended ice coffee. Fifty-four grams of sugar. Sixteen grams of fat. Truly a marvel of appetite; a pinnacle to all things portioned.

And if that did not convince her, then surely the mound of fries and stacked layers of meat to a burger would have. Her newfound acquaintance had brought Ichika a few streets away from their institution; a street plaza bordered by many different shops and restaurants. "You sure you don't want anything else?" Erika asked as she took her first bite into the large burger.

"I'm fine with this, thanks," replied Ichika. "You've helped me out a lot; I couldn't possibly bother you with more."

"It's really not a bother."

"But I don't even think I can finish all of this." Ichika quietly laughed to herself as they continued to enjoy themselves. At some times, Ichika had found herself glancing back at her phone. Of course, there would not be much for her to expect. There would not be any new messages and her social media feed would more or less be the same. And in the hassle of what happened earlier, she was not able to catch Fuutarou when he was texting her so late in the night.

「  Fuutarou-kun  」 (sent at 11:24 a.m.):  "Hey, Ichika. Hope I'm not bothering you if you're busy with anything. I know, it's pretty late here in Japan. Just wanted to say that I miss you and hope you're doing okay."

「  Fuutarou-kun  」 (sent at 11:27 a.m.):  "I had my first exam for the semester this week. Organic Chemistry is seriously no joke. Don't think I've ever been this nervous about my score for an exam before. Hope I did well."

「  Fuutarou-kun  」 (sent at 11:35 a.m.):  "Anyways, you're probably busy. The weekend is coming up and I don't have anything planned so maybe we can find some time to spend together? Maybe we can talk about that thing you said was bothering you."

「  Fuutarou-kun  」 (sent at 11:36 a.m.):  "Anyways, I should try to get some sleep."

「  Fuutarou-kun  」 (sent at 11:39 a.m.):  "Good night, Ichika."

"That your boyfriend?" Erika said with a bit of her mouth still full, much to Ichika's surprise. She swallowed her food and laughed. "Sorry. I have a bad habit of being a little nosy."

"It's alright. And yeah, that's him." A tender look fell over Ichika's eyes as she glanced at the name. "That clueless idiot. I can't understand him sometimes."

"You must miss him a lot, huh?"

"More than you can imagine. I just can't stop thinking about him." Ichika nodded, then looked off into the distance. Her fingers wrapped over the cold plastic of her drink. "It's actually a little embarrassing. I've been here for almost two weeks now, and this is the first time I've gone out to get my favorite drink. I haven't gone out at all, really. I just never really thought about it."

Erika shrugged. "I don't blame you. International students usually have their own troubles adjusting to things here. You gotta learn the language, learn how to deal with the people. It makes sense that some people might think you're all shy and don't talk all that much."

Ichika abruptly coughed. "You heard all of that?"

"Told you I had a bad habit of being a little nosy, didn't I?" She mischievously grinned. "I was going to talk to you before those guys showed up. Figured I'd wait a bit to see if you needed someone to step in. You know, you're a little too nice, Ichika"

"Too nice?"

"Mhm! Guys like them love to target cute, shy, and polite girls like you. Gotta learn quick to not take any of their nonsense around here." She cracked a few of her knuckles. "Though, some weirdos might be harder to convince than others."

"'Cute and shy girls'…" Ichika could not help but sound a little baffled as she quoted her. That was definitely a first for Ichika; it was almost as if Erika had mistaken her for Miku, but that was just not possible. It was just her here. "I'm actually not that bad with people at all. It was just a… bad time."

"Is that so? Well, either way, you should carry around one of these." Erika brandished a tiny black canister looped around her keyring.

"What's that?"

"Pepper spray. A bit of these in some creep's eyes and they'll pretty much be rolling all over the ground, kicking and screaming. For this one here, it's got this tiny little switch you flick over here. Then you just point and spray. They're pretty easy to find too."

"That seems a little… violent?"

"Either this or a knife." She twirled her keyring, and in the same motion, effortlessly flipped out the blade of a pocket knife.

"A knife?!" Ichika reel backed in shock, eyes widened. "Wh-why would I—"

"Kidding, I'm kidding." Erika laughed as she sheathed the blade. "Well… I'm mostly kidding. My Obachan did tell me that the streets back in Japan are a lot safer, but you shouldn't get too used to that outside of Japan. It's not like assaults from weirdos are common or anything like that, but it's all about feeling safer. Just brandishing it out and threatening them is enough to get people to back off."

Ichika lightly nodded. "I see… Well, that is… good to know. I suppose."

"Though, there is something I'm curious about, Ichika. That is, if you don't mind me asking."

"What is it?"

"Weren't you a pretty big deal back in Japan? I mean, I watched that interview you had a while back, and it kind of blew me away that you were only eighteen. Someone as popular as you probably doesn't need to come to an institute that trains actors in the first place. Why come all the way here?"

"You make a good point." Ichika leaned on her wrist, drawing a contemplative gaze to the distance. "It might have been easier if I stayed; it might not have been. Maybe, I'm using this all as an excuse to run away from the problems I was facing with my career back in Japan."

"Problems? What kind of problems?"

"You mentioned that you saw my interview, right? Then you should already know that I've been… dating someone. It caused a lot of trouble for my manager and advisor, and they didn't hesitate to scold me. According to them, I lost a lot of popularity because of that. They even had me disable all of my social media accounts for a few months. I don't regret it at all, but handling it was… troublesome.""

Erika sat in a temporary silence, then slowly crooked her brow as if expecting more. "Wait, that was it?"

"Yeah…?"

"Huh. Is it that big of a deal in the East if celebrities date people? That's kind of weird."

"Is that not a thing here?"

Erika shrugged. "Unless you're talking adultery or any other form sexual misconducts, then people couldn't give two shits about that here. But I mean… just dating? Who cares! My brother and his little fanclub know all of that and they're still absolutely in love with you." She laughed even louder. "You should have seen how heartbroken the kid was when he heard you were on hiatus!"

There was something uplifting in that loud, obscene tone in her laughter. Some sort of loosening feeling, as if she playfully mocked the things Ichika had always silently brooded over. As if they was hardly anything to worry about in the first place. Before Ichika knew it, she was laughing too.

"Alright," Erika continued. The look in her eyes narrowed as she leaned against her hand. What was once her low, somewhat husky voice had suddenly shifted to a calmer and more sophisticated tone. It was as if she had become a different person, where even that smile on her face felt as if it were a complete stranger. After all, Erika was also an actress of similar caliber to her. "New question. I am curious—what makes you want to become an actress, Ichika?"

Something about the way she had asked that question made Ichika think carefully over her next words. She looked to the crowded shuffle of the streets, the tall palm trees, and the hills of dried grass in the distance. Big, bright letters that read 'HOLLYWOOD' decorated this new world she had yet to fully find her place in. "I guess it's because… I don't want to be seen."

"Hmm… that was not the kind of answer I was expecting." Erika raised a brow. "What kind of actress doesn't want to be seen?"

"It does sound a little funny now that I saw it out loud." Ichika laughed to herself. "It was just a thought I had one day. An actress is only as good as the lies she can tell, and the number of people that she can fool. Even when they're interviewed, they know exactly what words to say to the camera. I guess all I can really say is that—it's fun. It's fun to fool people and it's fun to keep them guessing about the kind of person you really are."

Ichika took a long, slow sip of her coffee. "I have four younger sisters that are just like me. Because we look so much alike, I always thought that I had to do something big to stand out. I learned how to tell lie after lie so that I got whatever I wanted. There are a lot of times I can't be proud of either, but it always ended up the same way—with them seeing right through me. They, and a few special ones, are the people that see the real me. They see just how troublesome of an older sister I can be."

As she turned back, Ichika returned a satisfied smile. A smile that belonged to any number of faces that Ichika saw fit. "That's why, as an actress, I can't afford to get sloppy. I just need to tell bigger and better lies so that no one else will ever know how greedy and envious of a woman I can be."

Erika pinched her chin, quietly humming her thoughts. Her eyes slowly drew across the young actress in front of her, picking apart every face and facet that made up Ichika's resolve. "Huh. Well, that is a pretty unique one… but I do like that answer!" Loudly, Erika crumpled the leftover trash of her meal in her hands. "Alright! I've decided!"

"Decided…?" Ichika raised a brow. "Decided on what?"

"I like you, Nakano Ichika! You got what it takes to make it big here, I can tell!" The legs of Erika's chair loudly scraped as she boldly stood. She placed her hands on her hips, grinning even wider. "It ain't easy rising to the top. Not anywhere and especially not here. You gotta learn that if others are too tall to step over, then you gotta make them kneel. Shine brighter than any other star out there; talk bigger than everyone around you. And I'm just the kind of girl who can help you out."

"Help me out? What do you mean by that?"

"Come on, you seem like a smart girl, Ichika." Again, that cool, sophisticated tone, as Erika smiled. "As we say in show business, it's all about who you know and how well you use them. Being an international student, it makes sense you've never heard my name before." Her smile turned notably smug as she continued, "But I guess what really matters to you is that I'm a senior and you're a junior in the program. It might be all nice and lovely now, but the training picks up fast and it hits hard. Vocal Training, Scene Study. Improvisation. Cold Reading. Body and Movement. Tell me, can you sing?"

"S-sing…? Well, I mean I've practiced it a little but—"

"Not enough. Take longer showers if you need to. Now, where was I? Ah. You'll also need to learn what it's like to be a director, dancing, filmography. Don't forget that trainees here are required to star in a number of student-directed films too, so it's best you break out of your shell and make some friends in your year."

"Break out of my shell…?'" Again, Ichika had heard something she never thought would be said to her. "I think you're mistaken a bit about—wait, that's not important right now! All of this a lot to take in if you spring it on me so quickly!"

"We can cover more of it as we go then." Erika laughed. "Point is, I think I can show you the ropes around here. Maybe you'll learn a trick or two."

"I don't know what to say… I mean, that is awfully nice of you—and I am truly thankful for it—but isn't that an awful lot to do for someone you just met? I am nobody here. I—"

"I see it as a mutual benefit." Erika smiled. Whether it was another face that an actress would use to get what she wanted, or whether it was in genuine enjoyment, Erika smiled. "Years ago, I had my own mentor too, you know. I owe everything I know to him. So the way I see it, I'm just passing on the favor. And who knows? Maybe when you go on to become an actress that will inspire millions, maybe you'll remember some of the things your big sister, Sasaki Erika, taught you!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Ichika held up her hands. "Big… sister…?"

"Yeah! I've been stuck with three little brothers my whole life, but I've never had a sister before. Hmm… should you refer to me as Erika-neechan then? Or maybe Erika… neesan? What sounds better…"

For a while, Ichika sat with a blank look on her face. In these long years she desperately worked—all the hours of blood, sweat, and tears—Ichika had done what she had always thought was the right thing to do. It had gotten her this far. Now that she stood among stars that shined just as brightly as she did, Ichika realized that there were limits to what she could do alone. Still, the thought had left her a few breaths short of speechless. "Sorry, I'm not quite… used to calling someone that. Ha ha…"

"Well, then I suppose we'll have to work on that then! Oh! How about Aneki? Sounds pretty cool, don't you think?"

Ichika smiled at her senior, letting content laughter fall past her lips. "Let's… stick with just Erika for now."

「 Fuutarou-kun  」 (sent at 11:35 a.m.):  "Anyways, you're probably busy. The weekend is coming up and I don't have anything planned so maybe we can find some time to spend together? Maybe we can talk about that thing you said was bothering you."

「  Fuutarou-kun  」 (sent at 11:36 a.m.):  "Anyways, I should try to get some sleep."

「  Fuutarou-kun  」 (sent at 11:39 a.m.):  "Good night, Ichika."

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:40 p.m.):  "Sorry, Fuutarou-kun! I can't believe I missed your text!"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:40 p.m.):  "What are you even doing staying up so late? You need to make sure to take care of your health, you idiot!"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:41 p.m.):  "But… I was thinking about you too. I just miss you so much. There is so much I want to talk to you about. Let's talk a LOT when you wake up."

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:43 p.m.):  "Oh, and I don't think there's anything bothering me anymore! I'll tell you about it later!"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 2:45 p.m.):  "…I guess you could say that I made a friend today :)"

Chapter Text

Curved desks descended down the theatre. Rows of vacant seats for trickling bodies, steadily filling the room within the passing minutes. Between every murmur and every chuckle that echoed through the halls, the well rested and rejuvenated students slowly began to settle back into their busying lives. Summer recess had finally come to its end; another academic semester had begun. Another stanza and another beat to the song and dance that encompassed life as a student in Tokyo University.

Another seat had lost its vacancy. In all of the slow minutes that had already passed, Fuutarou could only question why he had bothered to arrive at his first lecture so early. Too soon to have been greeted by a soulless lecture theatre, void of any other presence but him for what seemed like hours. He mindlessly tapped through his laptop. A bit of dead time before lecture would normally have been no problem to the overly studious boy—he often made use of it by reviewing notes and future lessons—but there was hardly anything to bide his time when the first lecture had not even started.

In truth, Fuutarou had his own suspicions of himself, and what reasons brought him here to this classroom so early. These past days leading up to his fourth semester had regretfully become monotonous. A little dull and a little uneventful. A boring desire to exchange one routine for another—one that could busy his mind for a while longer, if it would help him stop counting the days. It had been almost three months since Ichika had left Japan, and no matter how many times Fuutarou would think he would have gotten used to it, there would always be a sense of longing that loomed over these quiet days. He tiredly yawned. Even now, he could not help but seek a bit of comfort looking over their most recent conversations.

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 12:53 a.m.):  "Does filming really move that quickly? Seems like the work doesn't stop."

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 12:59 a.m.):  "Mm… yeah, you could say that. Jeez, let me tell you, they really do keep you BUSY here. I could barely keep up at first, but I think I've gotten the hang of it a lot more now. Already finished starring in two student films."

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:02 a.m.):  "Glad to hear that, and congratulations! I just hope you're not overdoing anything, Ichika."

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 1:03 a.m.):  "You worry too much about me, Fuutarou-kun. It's really sweet. I am just SO glad it's Sunday. All day of lazing around, here I come!"

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:03 a.m.):  "I thought you said earlier that you would be going out with Sasaki-san on Sunday? The film museum, right?"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 1:05 a.m.):  "…"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 1:06 a.m.):  "Shoot. You're right. Ugh… that means I have to get ready. Sorry, my lovely bed. You'll have to wait for me a little longer…"

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:09 a.m.):  "Ha. Guess I was wrong to worry about you not getting your rest. You're just as lazy as ever."

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 1:11 a.m.):  "You don't get it. My bed and I are practically married."

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:12 a.m.):  "I can't believe I'm actually feeling jealous over a bed."

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:15 a.m.):  "Oh, you had better be. Nothing makes me happier than thinking of my two favorite things fonding over me :)"

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:15 a.m.):  "Though… the thought of coming home and seeing you both waiting for me doesn't sound bad either…"

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:20 a.m.):  "I can see you trying to type, you know."

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:21 a.m.):  "Just… never mind. I'm not giving you the satisfaction."

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 1:25 a.m.):  "Oh! I forgot to tell you the good news too! One of my instructors gave me pretty high mark for my vocal performance. Turns out, I'm quite the singer. She was even surprised I never tried it sooner!"

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:29 a.m.):  "That's right. I almost forgot. Vocal training is part of your curriculum, right? I don't think I've ever heard you sing."

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:31 a.m.):  "Congratulations on getting praise from your instructor though."

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:32 a.m.):  "Hmph."

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:34 a.m.):  "?"

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:36 a.m.):  "Unlike SOME teachers I've had, mine knows how to praise their students for their hard work."

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:37 a.m.):  "…"

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:37 a.m.):  "…sorry."

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:39 a.m.):  "It's too late for apologies, Fuutarou-kun. Though…maybe if you're nice and beg me enough, I could maybe give you a private little serenade when we video chat again ;)"

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:39 a.m.):  "…I actually thought about it for a moment, and I would love to hear you."

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:40 a.m.):  "Then you know what to do, Fuutarou-kun~"

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:40 a.m.):  "Beg."

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:45 a.m.):  "Joking! I'm joking! Didn't I just say I can see you typing and erasing your message? Were you really thinking that long? Haha!"

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:47 a.m.):  "Sigh…"

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:48 a.m.):  "I just really liked the idea, okay?"

「  Ichika  」 (sent yesterday at 1:50 a.m.):  "Mmk~! Just because you're you, Fuutarou-kun, and you're so sweet, I'll make an exception. I better not hear you laugh though!"

「  Fuutarou  」 (sent yesterday at 1:51 a.m.):  "I wouldn't. I promise"

「  Ichika  」 (sent at 1:55 a.m.):  "By the way, aren't you up a little late? I thought the first day of your semester started tomorrow?"

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Before Fuutarou had realized it, the murmurs and shuffles around his classrooms had grown that more plentiful. More students and fewer vacant seats to match the minutes that had quickly slipped by him, and he was none the wiser. Fuutarou was unsure of exactly what kind of face he was making as he had been staring at his phone screen, but he felt strangely flustered to even face the person. "N-no…" he finally said as he scooted his things aside. "Sorry. Feel free to—"

The look on Fuutarou's face stiffened the moment he glanced back, staring at his new desk neighbor with a little of his mouth still held agape. Long, flowing black hair fell past her shoulders, swept past one ear and clipped back with a hairpin. Framed in between was an amused, somewhat mischievous grin that matched the look in her large, rounded eyes. The girl greeted his gaze with a single carefree wave. "Hey, Stranger."

"You're—" Fuutarou abruptly coughed, almost sitting up from his seat. "Ta-Takebayashi?!"

The dark-haired girl pleasantly smiled as she took a seat beside him. "Wow, you actually remembered me this time, huh? You are just full of surprises, Fuutarou."

Fuutarou slightly turned away, sighing. "That's my line. I never expected to bump into you all the way here, Takebayashi."

"That surprised, are you?" She smirked, leaning her head over the desk so that she could follow Fuutarou's gaze. "What? Did you think that your old big sister—who, by the way, was the one who taught you—wouldn't also make it all the way to Tokyo U?" She playfully chuckled. "You insult me."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know. It was just a joke!" Takebayashi leaned back, eyeing the lecture theatre as more students trickled in. It was still some time before the lecture would officially begin, and there was plenty for them to catch up on. She lightly patted the cover of her Microbiology textbook. "Looks like we're going to be classmates again."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Doesn't it feel nostalgic? It's kind of exciting. All that's missing is if Sanada were here as well."

"Sanada? Oh, that's right. You two still hang out all the time? How has he been?"

"He's doing pretty well! Well, at least he was when I last spoke to him. It's been a couple of days."

Fuutarou raised a brow. "Is he not here with you too? I thought he would be."

"Hmm?" Takeyabashi exchanged a similar look. "No, why would he?"

"Well, I figured since you two—" Fuutarou held back his tongue. He knew well enough about the troubles that came with saying things without thinking. Was it that outlandish of a thought to assume that those two former classmates of his have been dating this entire time? They were practically inseparable together; they even went to the same high school. Though, the more Fuutarou thought about it, the more senseless of an assumption it all seemed. It had been years since then. Years! Even in middle school, he had only assumed the two of them were perfect for each other. Who knew what kinds of potentially awkward topics he could be unboxing if he said something like, 'Well, aren't you two together, or something?'

"Since we…?" Takebayashi's voice trailed after him.

"Since you two… said that you were always in the same class and stuff. Figured you two would be in the same college… or something."

To Fuutarou's relief, Takebayashi chuckled. "Oh, was that it? Nah. Sanada goes to Kyoto University. Always said that was his dream school and that it was closer to home. Good on him for making it!"

"I guess that makes sense."

"Don't get me wrong though; I miss the hell out of that guy. I always worried if he could survive out there all by himself, but he manages to get by alright."

"You still worry about people all the time don't you?"

"Of course!" she confidently replied. "How else would I call myself your guys' big sister?"

"You're not even that much older than me…" Fuutarou sighed. He looked down to the textbook under Takebayashi's palm. "Speaking of nostalgic things, I just remembered what kind of class we're both taking. So, you ended up sticking with science after all. You still have plans on becoming a veterinarian?"

"Whoa, you actually remembered!" She looked a little shocked. "I'm impressed."

"Well, you always did love animals. Do you remember that time we found that injured bird during passing period?"

"Did we? I can't recall."

"I remember, alright. You outright refused to go back to class until we brought it to the infirmary, but when we got there, the school's nurse wasn't there. You ended up forcing me and Sanada to help and keep watch while you tried to nurse it back to health." He crossed his arms in a weird sense of self-satisfaction. "And all three of us got in trouble for that."

"Whoa, now that is an old memory." Takebayashi gave a slightly hesitant laugh. "That's a little embarrassing, thinking back on it. I can't believe I almost forgot all about that. I'm surprised you didn't."

"How could I forget? When someone like you—who never missed a single second of class—would suddenly go out of her way to not only cut class, but threaten us to do the same too. Almost like some kind of delinquent."

Takebayashi pouted. "Oh, that is rich coming from you. It hardly went like that."

Fuutarou chuckled. "But hey, in the end, we ended up helping that little bird. Well, I guess it was more like you were the one that helped it. It doesn't surprise me at all that you've stuck with it still, after all this time." His eyes drew to the window, following the gentle sway of the tree branches, and the flock of birds that had just taken flight. He thought fondly of those girls—of those stubborn sisters that worked just as hard as he did, every single day. "You were never one to give up easily. It was your dream, after all, Takeyabashi. "

"Heh." Takebayashi pleasantly shook her head. "Like I said, 'always full of surprises', Fuutarou..."

The look on Takebayashi's face softened as she looked towards Fuutarou. Something about the look in her eyes reminded Fuutarou a lot about the past—of the days that had long since fleeted. Something not exactly somber or regretful, but something strangely in between. Something reminiscent of their time together as foolish, idealistic kids, where nothing in the world could ever tie down their ambitions.

The cherry blossoms that bloomed four years ago. Their middle school graduation. One of many crossroads that made for the short-lived days of their adolescence. A time shortly following the last moments of their ceremony.

"What will you do now, Fuutarou?" Takebayashi had then asked Fuutarou, before they would finally part ways. "You sure you're going to be okay all by yourself? Your big sister can't help but worry about you, you know."

"Who do you take me for, Takebayashi?" A younger Fuutarou crossed his arms. "I'll be fine, even without you having to always boss me around. Just you watch. You may have scored higher than me during our last year's finals, but I'm definitely going to outdo you too!"

Takebayashi laughed. "Not everything is a competition, Fuutarou. I'm already proud enough that your grades have finally gotten better. Though, maybe just a little bit, but I'm going to miss scolding you. Just a little!"

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "See? I knew it."

"No, but really. It's just… I hope wherever it is you're going… and whatever it is that you'll be doing… that you will be satisfied, Fuutarou. That you will be happy with everything you've worked towards. So… just for my own peace of mind, what will you do now, Fuutarou?"

"What do you mean?"

"What is your dream?" Takebayashi had asked Fuutarou. "Thinking back on it now, you never really told me."

Sweeps of a distant memory's wind carried the falling flower petals. For a while, Fuutarou could only watch until it would all eventually scatter. Another spring day. Another spring memory before they all would eventually grow up.

His old self looked high above the clouds. "I want to…"

"…and by the looks of it," the present Takebayashi continued, "you chose to stick with your dream too. And you made it all the way here. All I can really say to you is—congrats, Fuutarou."

A small sense of self satisfaction buried within the simplest of words, as he slowly replied, "Yeah. Thanks, Takebayashi."

The smile on Takebayashi's face grew warmer. She had already learned when she visited him during his school's festival, but Uesugi Fuutarou really had changed. He really had grown up.

"Now, that stuff aside!" Takebayashi gave no further room for sentimentality, dialing her voice back to a cheery, amicable tone. She leaned a little closer, eagerly looking at the details of his face. "Just when were you going to tell me that you were attending the same school as me? Why'd you wait so long to say hello?"

"You act as if I had any way of knowing," Fuutarou replied. "I didn't even know we were in the same school until just a few minutes ago! Besides, I had no way of contacting you, even if I did."

"That is so like you!" Takebayashi pouted. "No social media, no email address, and you didn't even tell me where you were moving! Do you know how difficult it was to try to contact you? I ended up having to go all the way to your school's festival just to check up on you."

"No one asked you to—"

Takebayashi scooted even closer, as if she were ready to catch him if he tried to escape. "And when were you going to tell me that you went and got yourself a girlfriend?"

"I—" he paused. "Wait a minute. You knew?"

"I had my suspicions, judging by how those girls looked at me when I visited you." The look on Takebayashi's face appeared a little too amused by the thought. "But wow. Quintuplets, huh? Who would have guessed that our little Fuutarou had changed so much that—"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Fuutarou held up a hand. "I've had to explain this situation to too many people, too many times. Frankly, I am sick of—"

"It's that one actress, right?" Takebayashi interrupted. "The quintuplet with the short hair? That was the one you chose?"

Fuutarou paused. "Ye… yeah. Wait, how did you know?"

"Because I bumped into her myself."

"You bumped into Ichika? Wait, no. You might be a bit mistaken; they're quintuplets after all." He thought for a moment. "You might be thinking of the ones that sold you pancakes from our class, Itsuki or Nino. I don't remember introducing you to any of them after—"

"Oh it wasn't during the festival." Takebayashi corrected. "It was… let's see… I think it was back in… autumn? From last year. Somewhere in September, I'm pretty sure."

"September…?" Fuutarou raised a brow. That was a peculiar thought. Autumn of last year should be somewhere between their first and second semester. Moreover, she had said it was in September. That should normally be the time where he and Ichika both stayed home in Tokai. "Wait, that doesn't make any sense. September should have been during break, so—"

He quickly froze at the thought. "Do not… tell… me. Takebayashi, you—"

Takebayashi grinned a mischievous grin. "Ah, now I remember. I was just coming back from my supplementary lessons during the evening, and to my surprise, there was this really loud and really spirited guy screaming his head off from the rooftop like some kind of delinquent." Takebayashi leaned on her elbow, enjoying every bit of Fuutarou's face dissolve into panic. "What was it he said again?"

"Don't—"

"Ahem." She straightened fingers, drawing them close to the corner of her lips."'It's all bullshiiiiiit!', or something like that…?"

Fuutarou opened his mouth, but nothing other than abruptly paused sounds escaped him. He wanted to rebut—to deny, to downplay, and to trivialize—but there was nothing he could do outside of blatantly lying. The memory of that day was still clear in his mind—every fulfilling and every regrettable moment—all down to that breathless kiss, swept away within the autumn mischief.

"Wait! That was all—"

"Alright, everybody! Settle down, settle down." An authoritative figure stepped to the podium of the room. "Welcome, everyone of you, to another semester back. This is Introductory Microbiology, and I am Professor…"

Warmth of autumn's glow spread across the branches overhead. Gilded leaves strew about the wide campus grounds, brushed aside with every step she took. In the disquieting routines that made for her life as a university student, it always felt like a shame that she could not always find the time to loll around the autumn air, especially when her supplementary classes touched into the evening.

An autumn evening Takebayashi vividly remembered, one year ago.

"Ugh… I'm starving." she groaned as she looked down on her phone screen. 7:08 p.m. "I still can't get used to having classes run so late. By the time I get home, I'll be too tired to cook anything. I haven't even shopped for groceries either…"

She aimlessly scrolled through her phone. At times like this, it almost seemed as if the applications on her phone knew exactly how to taunt her, populating her news feed with photos of her friends' dinner, along with cooking videos and advertisements for delivery. She tiredly sighed. It made sense. It was a Friday night, and most students normally would indulge in the luxuries that came with summer break. Going out for dinner, watching a movie, hanging out with friends. As for her and her overly diligent self, she had taken the liberty of scheduling a few supplementary classes that took place between the semesters, all for the sake of smoothing out the schedule for the upcoming semesters. After all, she was double-majoring and the longer she spent in college, the further her loans would accumulate.

But the more she glanced at the offered promotions on the screen, the more Takebayashi grew tempted to explore the possibilities. "I guess it's been a while since I've ordered something takeout…" she muttered to herself as she stepped away from the Faculty of Science building. "I should treat myself every now and then. What sounds good right n—"

A distant murmur had reached her ears. Strangely, it sounded as if it came from far above her. An opened window on the higher floors? No, that did not make much sense; only the lower floors should have hosted classes.

"…if you won't get upset over any of that…"

Takebayashi's gaze finally made it all the way to the roof of the building. "Whoa," she said to herself, "what's up with that guy up there? He isn't thinking about doing something crazy is he…?"

A few more of the scattered students had also turned their attention upward. Takebayashi squinted. The nighttime had made it difficult for her to fully see, but there was something peculiar about his voice. Something oddly familiar about what she could make out of his appearance, but Takebayashi could not quite…

"No way…" The right corner of Takebayashi's lip twitched. A single chuckle forced out of her as she stared in disbelief. "There's no way that's—"

The voice echoed throughout the empty campus. "It's all BULLSHIT!"

As for the rest of memory, Takebayashi could only remember it as a chaotic sequence. There seemed to have been someone else with the boy on the rooftop. Someone far, far more upset than he was. Her words were like a raging tempest—a slew of frustration and temper, ripping through the air with no thought or care about who may be listening. It echoed on and on, singing a dissonant melody Takebayashi could never come close to comprehending, only that she was strangely relieved to not be a part of this girl's ire. Eventually, one of the campus's night security arrived at the scene of the commotion.

Curiosity was always one of Takebayashi's most guilty habits. It would be a waste to walk away now, especially now after the thought had popped up in her head. Was that really him all the way up there? Just what exactly was going through his mind? And just who was that girl who was with him? All the more reasons for her to be curious.

Eventually, more of their campus's security officers trickled in. She watched as they scratched their heads and fumbled their plans, splitting up and backing away over every miscommunicated detail. They had even left the front door completely unattended!

"You're slowing down!" A voice shouted back. "Come on! It's not like I'm Yotsuba here; at least keep up with me—Whoa!"

It was only for a short moment, but Takebayashi would remember a few things about this girl. Her eyes were a deep blue, quickly widening as she came to a sudden halt so as to not collide into Takebayashi. The girl had short, pink hair with a longer strand to one side, and a single earring beside it. Her face definitely seemed familiar, but what exactly was it?

"S-sorry!" the pink-haired girl quickly apologized, a little short on breath.

"It's… alright," replied Takebayashi. "You look a little familiar…"

"Huh?"

Before she could ask any further, another voice—void of all breath and sluggish with every additional step—trailed after her. "I am… going…" the voice huffed and huffed. "I am… going… to die…"

Quickly, the girl had turned back and grabbed the lagging boy by his hand. It was then did Takebayashi realize—it was definitely, without a doubt, Uesugi Fuutarou.

"Quit talking and keep running!" Ichika shouted. "Which way do we go?"

"Le… left!"

And as quickly as they had crossed paths, the two of them had vanished under the sound of running footsteps. Takebayashi could hardly find the time to go over what had just happened before another pair of footsteps came her way.

"Excuse me!" one of the pursuing guards had approached Takebayashi. "Did you see two students running this way? A boy and a girl?"

"Oh uhh…" Takebayashi looked away. Without thinking too much about it, she pointed down the opposite direction. "There were two people running down there. Did something happen?"

"No… I don't think so. We just wanted to ask them some questions…" The campus guard shook his head. "No, nevermind. Thank you. Please stay safe on your way home"

Without realizing it, Takebayashi had been holding back a grin. A twist of a smile, buried underneath her palm. She felt relieved that the security guard was in a hurry, otherwise her sudden fit of laughter would surely be seen as suspicious. Deep down, she had always wondered just how much Uesugi Fuutarou had changed—how much of his old self was discarded and how much of it had merely grown up. For better or for worse, their short little reunion from back at the festival had left a lot for her to think about.

Maybe she was imagining it, but right before Fuutarou and that girl had ran off, Takebayashi had thought she had seen her old student running along with a huge smile across his face. She could hardly put together a reason, but Fuutarou looked as if he was somehow enjoying himself. Like a part of the Uesugi Fuutarou that lived in her memory, and the boy that grew apart from her, had not entirely changed after all.

Troublesome and foolish—a true delinquent, even to this day. A mess for another girl to look after.

And Takebayashi could not help but laugh.

"…and I just could not believe what I was seeing!" The present-time Takebayashi could hardly fight the urge to giggle as she recalled her side of that peculiar night. Her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach as she walked. "I-I even told it to Sanada, and he kept saying that I was making it up! I… I-I hold on, I-I need a bit. I just…can't stop la-laughing!"

Fuutarou buried his face into his palm. After one of the longest first-day-of-class he had ever had to sit through, Fuutarou had somehow ended up accompanying Takebayashi on a walk around their school's campus. A part of him wanted to get as far away from her as possible, especially after the number of times she had glanced his way during lecture. He could clearly picture what sort of teasing smile was buried behind her palm and her knuckle, but he would not dare address it during the lecture. But just as he remembered, Takebayashi was hardly one to let him slip away easily.

"That wasn't…" Fuutarou muttered. "…that wasn't really me. That wasn't really us either. We were just… caught up in something. I mean it."

"Yeah. Uh huh. Sure." Takebayashi finally settled down. "Man, even after all of this time, it's still hilarious!"

"It will take way too long to explain. Just trust me, please."

"Oh, I know you wouldn't lie to me, Fuutarou. I'm only teasing." They continued wandering aimlessly around the campus. Neither of them had any classes immediately after Introductory Microbiology, so Takebayashi had suggested they could grab something to drink around campus.

"So… your girlfriend really is something, huh?" Takeyabashi continued to walk beside him, sipping a cold cup of bubble tea. "I've been checking her out here and there around social media. Never thought I'd run into a popular young actress like that."

"Ichika is definitely talented," replied Fuutarou. "Have you seen any of her movies?"

"Not a lot, really. I did check out The Vermillion Riddle when it aired around here with a few of my friends. Fantastic movie, by the way. She really knocked it out of the park there! I was on the edge of my seat the entire time."

"Ha." Fuutarou scoffed. "That's the one everyone talks about. If you really want to see her shine, I can suggest a couple to you."

"I don't see why not." Takebayashi shrugged. "Classes haven't picked up yet, so I got some time on my hands. Though, I heard that she's been working overseas now, isn't that right? How's that holding up for you?"

"You mean long-distance?" Fuutarou thought for a moment. "It's been about… three months now, and we're handling things fine."

"Seriously? Three months?" Takebayashi looked in awe. "That's crazy. I heard from one of my friends that she's been really picking up in popularity in the west! She's already starring in movies in that short of a time?"

Fuutarou nodded. "It's part of her training. The academy she's enrolled in is pretty famous across the world. They have their students accumulate graduation credits by auditioning for roles in tandem with their studying. It's mostly indie films, but still, she's a damn hard worker."

"Whoa. That sounds way harder than anything we have to do." Takebayashi took another sip of her bubble tea. "But isn't it hard to keep things steady with a relationship too? All of that, on top of being overseas?"

"The time zones will always be a problem, but we still manage to find time to spend together. It works out pretty fine for the both of us."

"So you say, trying not to yawn." Takebayashi bumped shoulders with him, knocking the straw out of his mouth. "You sure you've been getting enough sleep, Fuutarou?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb. If I were to guess, you've been staying up late these days trying to keep up with her, haven't you? What's your normal bed time? 1:00. maybe 2:00 a.m.?"

"Now you're just assuming things. I'm perfectly fine."

Takebayashi shook her head, scolding him. "'Fine' isn't the word I would use to describe someone who already looks tired on his first day of school. You should know by now how brutal it's gonna be for upper division science."

Fuutarou turned away, quietly answering, "Is it that obvious?"

"Well to me, it is." She shrugged. "Still as stubborn as always, you know that? I still remember our second year in middle school, when you suddenly started taking my tutoring seriously. I could hardly believe it, but you just wouldn't stop. I even found you in the library sometimes, fast asleep."

Fuutarou groaned. "Don't remind me…."

"It's the same thing all over again, Fuutarou. I mean, it's good on you for wanting to be a good boyfriend and all that, but you have to look out for your own health too! Any good girlfriend would understand that."

They took a seat on a nearby bench. After a tiresome sigh, Fuutarou said, "Yeah… I'm definitely aware of that. It's just that I… miss her a lot. Ichika has definitely scolded me a couple of times too, but I just can't help myself. I just want to spend all of my time with her when I can."

"I see…" Takebayashi leaned back. "Then, I'd feel bad for scolding you anymore."

"No, it's alright. You were only looking out for me, so thanks—"

"Hey, Fuutarou," she interrupted him, "are you just like… really lonely?"

Fuutarou choked on his own words, poorly mixing his shock with loud coughs. That was awfully blunt of her. "Wha-what are you talking about? Me? Lonely…?"

"Yeah, are you?" Takeyabashi glanced over, the wide gaze in her eyes as curious as ever. Casual and a tad callous in her remark, finished with a slow sip of her bubble tea. She was definitely waiting for an answer, but as he mulled over a response in silence, Takebayashi did not mind stirring his thoughts a little further. "I mean, I was always worried that you wouldn't make a lot of friends once you got into high school. You were never the friendliest with people to begin with, and it somehow got even worse when you only started to care about studying. That's why I was pretty relieved when I met those girls at the festival. They seemed to be really close to you."

"I…" Fuutarou slowly replied. "I mean, they're not my only friends. I do have a friend that goes here actually."

"Oh do you? Then I must have been mistaken. Do you guys hang out a lot?"

"From time to time. He's in a different major, and he's been saying that he's going to be joining a fraternity this year, so it might be less now."

"And? Have you made any other friends?"

Fuutarou let out a regretful sigh. He never formed those thoughts into reason before. Monotonous and uneventful days were never something he thought would be a problem in his life, but he had been wrong more times than he cared to admit. Once he had forfeited the thought of leading a solitary life, Fuutarou had also become vulnerable to the subtle heartaches that came with absence. Ichika leaving was one thing, but it was not as if it all started three months ago. He would return home to an empty apartment, he would eat food that could never compare to Raiha's, and he would sometimes forget that his father would not randomly come barging into the room again, livening up their tiny space.

"I suppose…" Fuutarou slowly admitted. "Without Ichika, Raiha, my dad, and the rest of them around… I guess I've had a bit too much free time lately…"

It should not have come as a surprise to him when he heard Takebayashi laughing beside him. "See? Is it that hard for you to be honest?" Takebayashi said. "Sorry, I shouldn't be laughing. I totally understand you, Fuutarou. Good news is that our majors are probably going to be picking up soon, so you can go back to busying yourself with more studying."

Fuutarou crossed his arms. "I mean. I suppose that's something…"

"Unless, of course…" Takeyabashi continued. "That isn't exactly what you want either?" A brief glint shone in her eye as she reached for her phone. "Hey, I know this might be a bit of a random suggestion to you, but have you ever considered… maybe…"

Fuutarou turned a strange gaze her way. Just what was Takebayashi suggesting, and why had he suddenly grown a little anxious?

"…maybe, adopting a cat?"

"Huh…?" The look on his face was stuck in confusion. "Wait, you mean like, a pet…?" He looked at her as if expecting a quick remark, but the look on Takebayashi's face said that she was expecting a sincere answer. "That is a bit… random."

Takebayashi scrolled through her phone. "I know, I know, but I thought I might as well bring it up. You see, I work part-time at a shelter a few stops away from campus, and we've had a good amount of adoptions from other university students living alone." She scooted beside Fuutarou, showing him her phone screen. It was a website of a local animal shelter, complete with vibrant pictures of pets and pet owners, and the various articles concerning adoption and care.

Bits of her passion bled through her excitable tone, eager to finish her thoughts before Fuutarou had a remote chance of possibly turning her down. "A grown cat is pretty independent compared to a dog, so you won't have to worry about leaving them alone while you go to class or work. The ones I look after are the absolute sweetest things ever and deserve a good home. Oh, I should ask first, does your apartment allow pets?"

"Pets? I… think it's okay? I'm pretty sure the girl that lives a few rooms down has a cat, so—" He interrupted himself. "Wait, we're getting a little too ahead here. I've never even thought about owning a pet before."

"Well, why don't you start thinking now?" Takebayashi pushed on, more persistent than ever. "Come on, it doesn't sound too bad, right? Think about it! I'm sure you'd make a great caretaker."

Fuutarou quietly hummed to himself, cautiously thinking it over. "I don't know… I suppose it doesn't sound too bad."

"Right? And if you're not entirely sold about it, the shelter I work for also offers a fostering program."

"What does that mean?"

"It's like a temporary adoption," Takebayashi explained. "It's used as a way of letting animals get used to living in a home, so that when they are adopted, they can get used to their new families easier. Of course, since you'd be volunteering to house one, we'd be the ones offering supplies like food, shots, and health checkups. Hardly costs a thing!"

If Takebayashi was also some kind of cleverly disguised saleswoman, then Fuutarou could admit that she had a talent for it. Another particular habit of hers that she was good with; she knew exactly how to pique and involve the interest of others. "But…" Fuutarou reluctantly began, "you said it was a temporary thing, right? What happens after?"

"Ah…" Takebayashi pointed his way. "Are you afraid you might get too attached?"

"A little, I suppose."

"Whoa, you're a lot more honest than I thought you'd be." She pleasantly giggled. "Well, if a family decides to adopt a cat you're fostering then there's nothing you can really do about it. You are mostly a caretaker after all. But, since fostering is a pretty common way of having a sort of 'trial run' before you commit to adoption, it's just a few easy steps to become a permanent owner! In fact, I just thought of the perfect little companion for you!"

Takebayashi showed him her phone. It was a web page of her workplace's list of available adoptions. This one in particular was of a light-coated feline, with cream colored fur that merged to dark-colored fur at the ends of its snout, paws, and tail. Its eyes were a dull, icy blue. There was even a picture of Takebayashi as she held up the aforementioned cat for its gallery photos, with a bright smile on her face. Though, the cat did look a little unamused for this photo.

"We rescued this little guy a month ago!" Takebayashi continued. "Reminds me a bit of you, actually. His name is Tappi and he is just the sweetest thing ever. He's a bit of a loner compared to the other cats, so that's something you two have in common."

Fuutarou sighed. For some reason, it felt as if everyone had painted quite the picture of him in their minds, but correcting it hardly seemed worth the trouble. "I'll ignore those little jabs. So, this one's name is Tappi?"

"Yup! I picked out the name for him myself. Cute, isn't it? It even fits him perfectly."

"In what way?"

"I mean, just look at him. Doesn't he remind you of something?" Takebayashi shook the drink in her hand. A plastic cup of half-empty milk tea, with little black tapioca pearls at the bottom. "Get it? 'Tappi'? Tapioca? Pretty darn cute and clever if I would say so myself."

"I suppose so." Fuutarou lightly shrugged. The longer the thought lingered inside his mind, the more he realized he had been staring at the wide, glass-like stare of the cat, who strangely, looked more and more like milk tea. "It's all a little too sudden still. But I'll think it over, Takebayashi. Do you think you could send me a few articles that I can read over? Just so I know as much as I can."

"That's a good idea, actually! I was thinking that I should grab your contact info while I have you here, just in case you disappear on me again."

"I'm not running off, and besides, we're going to be classmates this semester…"

They exchanged each other's contact information. "You know, I brought it up as a bit of a joke," Takebayashi admitted. "It makes me happy that you're giving it some thought, Fuutarou. But don't forget to make some more friends of your own, you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you." Fuutarou halfheartedly chuckled. "I'll see you in class, alright?"

"Sounds good. Take care now, Fuutarou."

They stood up and parted ways. Brushes of the cold autumn wind shook the branches over her head, letting the golden leaves fall over Takebayashi's coat. A lot of autumns like this had passed in the long years since she had seen Fuutarou. Many autumns to many years. From the ambiguous autumns that followed after graduation, to the Sunrise Festival, to that eventful night, and back again on their fourth semester as university students. Each time, Takebayashi had never thought she would learn just a little more about that boy she used to call her student.

She looked back, seeing the back of that peculiar boy walk further down the campus. At some point in their time as classmates, Takebayashi had considered herself to be the closest person to Uesugi Fuutarou. There was always just something about him. Something about that faint glimmer she saw in his eyes, and all of the unseen uneasiness he had within himself. Perhaps that was why she had felt the need to call herself his big sister—why she strangely felt like it was her responsibility to keep an eye on him. Somehow, she felt like she needed to be there in case he really did fall apart one day.

But now, it seemed like she really did have a bad habit with worrying a little too much. Just a tiny bit.

Takebayashi looked high above her, past the ruffled gaps of the autumn leaves and the glints of sunlight that bled through. She had never known Uesugi Naoko. She had only seen a few photographs and heard a few stories about Fuutarou's mother when he had finally opened up to her, those years ago. A kind and lovely mother as one person could ever be, both in life and in memory. Even if it were just a baseless assumption—carried by the pensive thoughts she would sometimes find herself dwelling over—Takebayashi knew that Uesugi Naoko would have been proud. Those lessons she had left him, and the unending love that shaped the man she met again today. That much, Takebayashi could never deny.

After all, Uesugi Fuutarou had said so himself.

As vividly as the day she remembered it, underneath the cherry blossoms that bloomed four years ago. As if it had all come from yesterday.

"What is your dream?" Takebayashi had asked Fuutarou. "Thinking back on it now, you never really told me."

Sweeps of a distant memory's wind carried the falling flower petals. For a while, Fuutarou could only watch until it would all eventually scatter. Another spring day. Another spring memory before they all would eventually grow up.

His old self looked high above the clouds. "I want to… study medicine. For my mom."

Chapter Text

Stillness of an idle storefront. Walls and windows left predominantly untouched against the slow-moving years, tucked peacefully within a bustling street. A shop that stood quietly alone while everything around it slowly began to change. Owners and shopkeepers came and went; signs switched and rearranged; new architecture and remodels painted it all in the colors of modern-day commerce. Now, almost two decades later, the world outside these dusty walls and dull brown rosin paper was hardly familiar to that old memory.

However, even a place as lonesome as this would sometimes come across a surprise or two, every now and then. A surprise basked in long-overdue sunlight, as sheets of rosin paper tore off its old windows. A welcoming breath of the outside air that stirred the layers of dust. Occupying the interiors of the Uesugi Bakery were its usual visitors. The three family members that never failed to miss a day of routine maintenance. Just as they always had, although on this day, the old bakery's walls housed a few more curious eyes.

"Like I said, it's nothing fancy," Fuutarou said, pulling down his face mask. He moved aside his broom and dustpan as he welcomed in the three Nakano sisters. The wide emptiness of the store pronounced each of their curious footsteps into short-lived echoes. "Be careful moving anything. There's still a bit of dust lying around."

Their eyes scattered to different corners of the bakery. The first to step further past Fuutarou was Yotsuba, eagerly fixated on every drab and dull sight as if it somehow shone brightly, breathing out a wondrous, "Whoa…!" as she continued along. "This all really used to be your own place, Uesugi-san?"

"Technically, it still is," Fuutarou called back. He cleared some of the floorspace by moving a couple of old chairs and tables. "Though, we haven't been running for a long time. Miku, can you help me get this cloth off of the table?"

Yotsuba eventually found herself staring down her own dusty reflection, peeking into the rounded glass case at the front of the bakery. Though it was nothing like the ones she frequented with her sisters, the various furniture and apparatuses was undoubtedly all a part of a bakery. A small and humble bakery, but a bakery nonetheless. As she stared at the empty bread racks, Yotsuba could not help but wonder what this place would have looked like in its prime. What array of delectable, warmly-scented breads, pastries, and cakes would have displayed here, tempting her to press her nose against the glass.

Instead, all she could find was the striped fabric of a t-shirt, rounding the corner of the display, accompanied with a plume-like bundle of hair above the person's head. "Welcome in, everyone!" Raiha cheerfully called out. "Thank you so much for coming to help us out! We've been here since early morning, but we've still got a ton to do!"

"Alright, good…" Fuutarou muttered to himself. "Do you think you could handle the rest of the chairs, Miku? Just stack them over there."

Miku nodded. "Sure, no problem."

Fuutarou looked past his shoulder. "Now, Nino, do you think you can help with the—"

Before Fuutarou could finish, the second daughter had quickly left his side, making her way across the bakery. "Oh my god, Raiha-chan!" said Nino excitedly. "Is this him?!"

Held carefully in the cradle of Raiha's arms was a light-coated, medium-sized cat. It had cream-colored fur that merged to dark-colored fur at the ends of its snout, paws, and tail, and its widening eyes were a dull, icy blue as the curious quintuplet drew closer. "Is this the cat Fuu-kun was talking about?!"

"Yup!" Raiha widely grinned, gently petting its fur. "This is Tappi! Do you want to pet him?"

"Can I? Is that alright? I mean…will he let me…?"

Raiha nodded. "He's super friendly! Go ahead, try petting him. My Big Bro taught him really well!"

"I mean… if you say it's alright, Raiha-chan…" Nino cautiously lifted her palm, halting whenever the cat's gaze turned suspicious. It was not long until her fingers happily stroked through the length of Tappi's fur, turning the look in Nino's eyes as bright as stars as she excitedly squealed over it. "Y-Yotsuba! You have got to see him. He's, like, the cutest thing ever!"

"I'm coming!" The fourth sister darted over, lowering to a squat as she neared them. A similar glint shone in her eye as she excitedly said, "Aww! Uesugi-san's kitty is so cute!"

"His fur is so soft! It's like a pancake!"

"Really? Let me try! Here, Tappi, Tappi…" Yotsuba gently waved her fingers. "That's a good kitty…"

"He really likes it when you pet over here," Raiha said. "Right behind his ears. See?"

They happily watched as the look on the cat's face melted to a pleasured smirk, rolling his neck and shoulders with every gentle pat and scratch, accompanied with a quiet purr. Attention, as it seemed, was something the little feline had quickly gotten used to, so as long as the rest of the girls were careful not to smother him too much.

From the other side of the bakery, Fuutarou grabbed one of the spare cleaning rags. A small grimace formed on his face as he muttered to himself, "Fine, I'll just do it myself then…"

"I saw a couple more of Ichika-neesan's movies recently," Raiha said as she handed Tappi over to Nino. "I never knew that she did so many movies while she was still in high school. Did your school even allow her to do that?"

"She shot a couple of them in secret," Yotsuba said with a slightly guilty laugh. "Which ones did you see?"

"Let's see…" Raiha thought for a moment. "Last weekend I saw one called Letters to the Preacher, which was kind of confusing. Ichika-neesan didn't have that many parts there, so I kind of tuned out near the end. But last night, I watched Crazy Zombie Themepark. Both Parts 1 and 2—Return of the Zombie Carnival. I really liked those ones a lot! And I'm going to continue one of the morning dramas she was in, Yearning to Hold You, after I finish homework tonight. I'm on the last episode."

"I remember that one!" said Nino. "That was when we were all still second years. I cried so much when she rejected that one hot guy because the one she wanted to be with was her best friend."

"I cried too! It was just so sweet. Oh! That reminds me, I also saw a really good one the other day. I think it was called Blood-filled Chocolate."

"No way!" Yotsuba exclaimed loudly, almost making Tappi leap out of Nino's arms. "That's one of Ichika's movies that she filmed in America! She told us it was super popular. How were you able to watch it?!"

Raiha blissfully smiled. "Dad hooked up this new thingy to our new TV. Now, we can stream a bunch of shows and movies, all for free! Isn't that cool?"

Is that even legal? Nino thought to herself, but she did not bother too much with the thought. "I can't believe it, Raiha-chan. I'm so jealous! I've been dying to see that one ever since Ichika showed us her costume, but it hasn't even been released outside of America!"

"What was that about again?" Yotsuba asked.

"'A woman finds herself woken up as a vampire,'" Nino quoted the synopsis that she read multiple times already. "'She seeks to retain her humanity as she craves blood to live. She then meets a mysterious stranger who could be the key to what had changed her destiny!' Doesn't that sound like such a thrilling and romantic story?"

"It was beautiful!" Raiha squealed. "I want to say so much about it, but I can't spoil it! You just have to watch it."

"Can you believe that Ichika is doing so well in America?" Yotsuba said with stars glistening in her eyes. "Her account has so many followers since the last time I checked. It's crazy!"

"A little too well…" Nino muttered, not bothering to hide the dissatisfied look on her face. "After making such a big fuss about leaving home, you would think that Ichika would at least struggle just a little bit. Honestly, she is doing better than ever…"

Yotsuba and Raiha laughed. Continuing the thought, Raiha brought up another movie. "Oh! And there was also another one that I liked, but Dad had to turn it off before we finished because he said it was too scary. It was about a ghost that haunted people's text messages…"

"I remember that one," Nino remarked. "I think the name was 'Are you there?' All of us saw it together when it was in the local theatres. Ichika's character died really early though. She was like the second victim after she got a text in the hospital bathroom and—"

Yotsuba made an abruptly loud noise, as if it could stop the words from entering her head. "Stop, stop! I just forgot about that one! Why did you have to go and remind me? Now I have to find my night-light again…"

"You're too old to still have that around."

"Am not! What's wrong with having one, anyway?" Yotsuba pouted. She looked down to Nino's lap, where a pair of blue feline eyes had curiously tilted between. "And quit hogging Uesugi-san's kitty! Let me have a turn holding him too, Nino!"

"We were busy talking about Ichika's movies the whole time, I hardly got any time."

Back at the front end of the bakery, Miku giggled to herself as she moved the last of the chairs. "Looks like Tappi is quite popular with them, isn't he?"

"As an excuse to not help out, maybe," Fuutarou scoffed as he wiped the windows. "Makes me question if they just came to play around or something."

Again, Miku laughed. "Come now, it's still pretty early. But, you know, we all were really surprised when you told us you were adopting a cat. Some of us even thought you were joking."

"Is it that odd? Don't think I've ever said I had anything against them."

"We just had a little trouble picturing it." The third sister shrugged. "You're just in the fostering program for him now, right? How long has it been?"

"Probably… a bit over a month now. Month and a half at most."

"And? You two been getting along?"

Fuutarou crossed his arms, thinking. "Hmm…. Yeah. Yeah, you could say that. It isn't half bad actually. Tappi doesn't really get in the way all that much and we kind of keep to ourselves for the most part. He was actually really well behaved—well, minus the first week we were getting used to each other."

"Oh?" Miku looked attentively. "Now I'm curious."

He took his time to remember the details, letting the various expressions already give Miku an idea of what to expect. "At first, the two of us were pretty standoffish," Fuutarou began. "He kept on hiding underneath my bed for the first two nights, and I had to try everything to get him out. Food on a plate… a few of the toys the shelter provided… It was a real hassle. I guess it was a bit my fault though; I didn't know that staring them down was considered an aggressive gesture to cats."

"You didn't? Come on, Fuutarou. We've never had a cat, but even I know that. Have you ever come across a stray cat on the way to school and tried to say hello to them?"

"I never came across many," he obliviously replied. "For some reason, they tended to avoid me."

Miku gave a half-amused look, as if silently communicating that she should not have been too surprised to have learned that about him. After all, if first impressions were anything like the day they had all met Fuutarou, then Miku could only express her sympathy for his new feline companion. Sympathy, and a little bit of laughter.

Without thinking too much about it, Fuutarou continued, "Also, I had to look up all these weird things about how to make my furniture scratch-proof and stuff. Once I got Tappi away from under the bed, he started going everywhere. On top of the bookshelves, on top of the cupboards, and of course, his favorite spot has to be in the middle of my bed during the night and my desk during the day." He let out a troubled sigh.

"Sounds like you had it pretty rough." Miku gently laughed. "But you know… I think it would be really good for you to consider fully adopting him. It seems weird to think about but… you seemed to have been in a better mood lately."

Fuutarou curiously raised a brow. "Did it seem like I was in a bad mood before?"

"Not exactly that, I don't think. I guess you could say it was a bit of a feeling." She slowly shook her head. With a feeling of courtesy, Miku picked up one of the spare rags besides Fuutarou, gently twisting it in her hand. It never really felt like her place to say things like this so confidently, but at times, Miku would get the feeling of saying just what was on her mind. She only had to face away a little, twiddling with the cloth in her hands.

"I did say it was a weird thought," Miku continued, "But… you just seem a little bit more like yourself lately, Fuutarou. If having Tappi around helps that, then I can't see that as anything else but a good thing."

It was easy to trust her. Whenever it came to Miku, Fuutarou had realized that the third sister hardly buried anything between her words. For someone who had a hard time completely getting rid of that old, cynical self of his, genuine kindness like that would always catch him by surprise. "R-right." He abruptly cleared his throat. "Well, it hasn't been all that bad. After the first week or so, I think I've gotten used to having the little guy around."

He thought fondly of their short time together. "Tappi's gotten used to my schedule. He knows when I go in and out of my apartment. Lately, he's started to lie down next to me while I'm studying, and he's been bringing more toys for me so that I can play with him. It's very comforting."

"That's really good for you then!"

"Yeah." Fuutarou nodded. "I need to remember to thank Takebayashi again for all the advice she's given me. It ended up being a lot harder than I thought."

Miku gave a curious look. "Who?"

"An old friend of mine. We knew each other for most of elementary and middle school, and we happen to be classmates this semester—"

"I thought that name sounded familiar!" a voice interrupted. They both turned just in time to find Nino marching over towards them. She placed both of her hands firmly on her hips. "Just what are you trying to pull here, huh?"

"Umm… excuse me?" Fuutarou tilted his head as if there were anyone else she could have been speaking to but him. "Pulling what?"

Nino's glared at him. "That's that one girl, right? The one you were with from the festival?"

"Oh." Miku's expression soured. "That girl."

Now, two bitter glares had turned his way. "Is there something I'm not getting here?" Fuutarou questioned. "What's the problem with Takebayashi?"

"I don't like her," Nino bluntly stated.

"Wait, why?"

"Don't tell me you already forgot. That girl had an awful lot of nerve pretending that she was closer to you than any of us. Ugh… I can just remember that look on her face. Really pisses me off thinking about it…"

Fuutarou sighed, shaking his head. "That's just the way Takebayashi is. She was just teasing you a little bit. Don't let it get to you."

"Too late; it already did." Nino crossed her arms. Fuutarou knew a little too well how firmly Nino stood her ground whenever she made up her mind about somebody. Convincing her beyond this point was a useless endeavor. Eyes further fixated, Nino continued, "So? What's your angle here, Fuu-kun? Why are you hanging out around her again?"

"You say that like it's supposed to be a bad thing. I told you, she's an old friend of mine. Why wouldn't I hang out with her?"

"Ugh. Is this something I really have to explain to you?" She jabbed a finger against his chest. "You have a girlfriend. And she is all the way across the world right now. Now, you're getting all comfy with a girl from your childhood?" She paused for a short moment. "Putting it all together or do I have to do that for you too?"

"You don't seriously think that I…" Fuutarou winced a little at the thought—even more so as both Nino and Miku looked at him with speculative eyes. Never had he thought that he would be in this type of situation. "Oh, come on. You really think that I would do anything with Takebayashi, just because she's a girl? That's ridiculous! She's just a friend."

"Hey, I'm just making sure." Nino shrugged, rushing her hair to the side. "Ichika told us to watch over you while she was away. If it were all up to me, I'd move to Tokyo myself and keep an eye on you and any other man-stealing vixens out there."

"I doubt Ichika asked you to do that for those reasons though…" Fuutarou muttered. "And besides, I already told her about running into Takebayashi a while ago. She never expressed anything wrong with it."

"Tch. As if a girl would tell when you she's jealous." Nino rolled her eyes. "If I had known who Ichika was talking about when she mentioned,'Fuutarou's friend', I would have told her to fly back and keep her man on a leash. That girl is trouble."

"Look, you're probably over-thinking th—"

"Are we…" Miku—who had been fairly quiet during their whole argument—finally spoke up, "I mean, I know Ichika is already a given, Fuutarou…" Her eyes looked around the room and the floor, working the courage to look at him directly in the eye. "But… you do consider the rest of us to be closer to you, right? At least more than Takebayashi-san…?"

Their glares grew sharper. For the first time in their conversation, Fuutarou truly felt trapped out of all options. Even the slow-trickling seconds between silence and his next words worked against him. What could he even say that would convince these two that he—

"Hey, come on, you guys!" Yotsuba suddenly appeared beside them, holding a mop and bucket. She pushed out her arm, forcing both of her sisters to take up either one of the cleaning tools. With a proud smile, she continued, "We came here to help Uesugi-san clean the place up! Let's cut the chit-chat and get to work!"

"I like your attitude!" a timely voice reverberated over the room. A tall man's silhouette stood at the doorway, and with a wide grin, lifted his sunglasses above his brow. "Sorry I'm a little late," said Isanari. "I had to take care of a few things."

"There you are." Fuutarou let out a relieved sigh. "Looks like we can finally get to it. We took care of a few of the smaller things already."

"Great." Isanari stepped in, taking a long look at the volunteering sisters. "Well then… thank you so much for your time, girls. I'm sure these two have already given you the rundown of what we do here?"

They nodded synchronously, and Isanari appeared a little too easily amused at how alike quintuplets could be. "Forgive me, I'm still getting used to telling you all apart. Fuutarou mentioned that one of you is pretty good with a bit of heavy lifting. Let me try and guess…" He brought a knuckle to his chin, quickly marking up the character of each of the girls. He pointed at Nino. "You got a tough look to you, young lady! That must mean you are…. Yoshida!"

"Actually it's Yotsuba…" Nino answered, pointing to the girl with a green ribbon tied over her head. At the same time, Yotsuba rolled up one of her sleeves, playfully flexing her muscles. "And that would be her."

"That it would!" Yotsuba enthusiastically followed up. "Just point me where you need me!"

"Ah, shoot." Isanari snapped his fingers. "Sorry about that. One of these days I'm going to nail it down. Alright, so…"

After another quick rundown, the six of them dispersed to their own tasks. It would be a cleaning day just like any other they had done. Twice a year for as long as those of the Uesugi family could remember, and this was perhaps the first time they had any outside help. Twice as many as hands. Many times more efficient. There was a plethora of things they could now include outside of basic maintenance and cleaning.

Isanari, Fuutarou, and Yotsuba handled matters regarding the heavier side of labor. Their bakery had plenty of old boxes and equipment that needed to be moved around. Store a few of those things over here, take a few things out from over there. Isanari had also brought in some things that would help the place look a little more new. Small tins of paint and some brushes and rollers—nothing too extravagant beyond repairing a few worn-out walls and corners. Yotsuba would need to remind Fuutarou from time to time how to properly handle lifting heavy objects, mindful not to cause any injuries.

Raiha, Nino, Miku, and Tappi did their best to stay out of their way as they paced in and out of the bakery. Boxes, bigger boxes, tables and chairs all passed through and they politely cheered them on as they passed. As they got more serious with their tasks, Raiha eventually had to coax the curious cat to return back to the carrier cage. For both Nino and Miku, exploring the equipment and layout of the old kitchen was a fascinating experience. There were tools and unfamiliar apparatuses that may as well be considered archaic. Years of tender love and care showed through every last corner as Miku and Nino discovered lingering bits of the Uesugi family's past. Some scribbled notes and recipes inside a book. A pair of names carved far into the walls of a wooden cupboard—Isanari and Naoko—with little hearts and smiles beside them.

"Hmm? You're asking about the bakery?" Raiha glanced behind her. She offered a polite smile as she apologized, "Sorry, but I actually don't know all that much. Our mother passed away when I was really young, you see, so I never knew what this place was like. Though… I do wonder about it a lot."

"Oh…" Miku said as she scrubbed the kitchen surface. "Sorry. I didn't mean to ask anything that would make you feel uncomfortable."

Raiha shook her head. "No, don't worry about it Miku-san. I'm still happy coming here and helping out. I can see it in Dad and Big Brother's face—they really do love this place. My mother too. That's more than enough for me to love it too, and I want to protect it with them. Even if this is all I can do for now."

"You're a good girl, Raiha-chan," said Nino as she closed one of the overhead cupboards. "Agh! Can I just make you my own little sister already? Fuu-kun doesn't spoil you enough!"

"Well…" Miku said, "it's possible if Fuutarou ends up proposing to Ichika, you know."

"P-p-proposing?!" Nino quickly turned. Truthfully, she sometimes felt that she still needed a bit of time getting used to the fact that those two were dating. Much less marriage. "Isn't it a little too soon for them? Ichka's got her career and Fuu-kun is still in school."

"Didn't Sakurako-san from our class get engaged a few months after we graduated? I remember her posting a few weeks ago that she was already pregnant."

"Ergh…" Nino shivered at the thought. "She's the same age as us, and she's already married and having a kid? That's too much for me! No thank you!"

A little later into their conversation, and a few more scrubs down the kitchen counter, Miku was surprised to find Fuutarou stepping into the kitchen. She pulled back her cleaning rag, finding a bit of difficulty in looking him in the eye. "O-oh, Fuutarou. I didn't see you there. Did you need something?"

"Just a small toolbox," Fuutarou replied, not quite making eye contact with her. Instead, Fuutarou appeared to be fixated across the interiors of their kitchen.

"A toolbox? I think we saw it somewhere over there." Miku pointed to a drawer by the sink.

"Huh? Oh, uh… yeah. Thanks."

He passed by Nino, who greeted him with a light wave. "Hey, Fuu-kun. How are things outside?"

Fuutarou did not reply as he passed by her.

"Uhh… hello? Fuu-kun?"

"Yeah? Did you say something, Nino?"

"I was just saying 'hey', and was asking how things were going outside."

"Sorry. They're… alright, I guess. I just need to… grab something…" Again, Fuutarou's eyes wandered—fixated on the various parts of Nino's corner of the kitchen. The second sister could not help but give him an odd look as he opened cupboard after empty cupboard; drawer after empty drawer, muttering something under his breath. He quickly retrieved what he needed and made his way back out.

"Hey…" Miku said. "Umm… listen, Fuutarou. About earlier…" Again, she tried to catch Fuutarou's attention, but would never find the look in his golden eyes pointed her way. Perhaps it was her imagination, but it looked as if Fuutarou was a little inattentive. Distracted. As if her words hardly drew anywhere close to his ears. Fuutarou continued past her, saying nothing.

"What was his problem?" Nino placed a hand on her hip. "Talk about rude."

"Is something wrong with Big Bro?" Raiha asked. "He wasn't saying much."

Miku twisted her lip, then looked at Nino. "Hey, Nino. Do you think that we were a little too hard on Fuutarou earlier?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just felt like we were a little too harsh on him when we were, you know… 'interrogating' him. About Takebayashi-san. Maybe it might have upset him?"

"What's there to be upset about?" said Nino with a shrug. "I was just making sure he wasn't up to any funny business. If he had nothing to hide, then he shouldn't feel guilty about anything."

Miku hummed her thoughts quietly, seemingly unconvinced. "Hmm… I mean, do you really think Fuutarou would ever do something like that? Is that really the kind of person we think he is?"

"I mean—" Nino stopped herself., then quietly mumbled. "…No. No, not entirely…" She was never one to easily admit it as a fault, but the second sister had always carried herself with one finger over the trigger. A handful of caution and an abundance of skepticism over anyone who strayed too close over her and her sisters. Fuutarou was an exception. One exception. Even if Nino now acknowledged that she had misjudged him at first, it was not like she had changed to the point where she could readily accept another person in good faith. She may not be entirely fair, but the way she saw it, Fuutarou was also someone she needed to protect. Another person she felt compelled to watch over, even if it meant that she would not always be in the right.

Seeing the lifting tolerance in her sister's expression, Miku nodded. "Exactly. I'd understand if Fuutarou felt a little upset and disappointed at us for that. I know how you feel Nino; I wasn't happy either when I overheard her saying that. Maybe I was a little… jealous, thinking back. But if Fuutarou says she's a good person, then the least I can do is trust him."

"I guess…" Nino continued to mutter, "but still. I don't like her."

"I think that's fine too." Miku laughed. "I think… I'm gonna go look for Fuutarou. I want to apologize to him."

Nino grumbled to herself as she set aside her cleaning supplies. "And just how would that make me look when I'm the most guilty of accusing him?" She crossed her arms. "I'm coming too."

Pleasantly, Miku smiled. As they started to leave, another person came poking their head into the room, signaled by a bright green ribbon peeking from the entryway. "Woo!" Yotsuba exhaled, tugging the collar of her shirt. Drips of sweat fell from her brow as she stepped in, undoubtedly marking the minutes to hours of tough labor. "Boy, it's been getting warmer by the day! So much cooler in here. Is there any water around?"

"Good work, Yotsuba," said Nino. "They're right over here. Let me get it for you."

"Oh," Miku said, "Yotsuba, do you know where Fuutarou is?"

"Uesugi-san?" Yotsuba mumbled past the spout of her water bottle. She finished one hearty gulp before saying, "I think I saw him heading upstairs."

"Great. Thanks."

"Mhm!" She then called across the room. "Raiha-chan! We're taking a break right now."

"Thank you for your hard work, Yotsuba-san!" Raiha replied. "Did you need me to get you anything? A towel maybe?"

She motioned her fingers outward, as if ready to snatch the first thing she neared. "Where is Tappi?! I wanna play with him! Bring him out!"

They left the two of them in the kitchen, making their way to the other side of the bakery. After all the time they had spent cleaning the other interiors, neither Miku nor Nino had the chance to take a peek at some of the changes that had been made to the shop's main area. Paint-splattered newspapers scrunched where the floors met with the walls; the floorspace suddenly appeared much bigger with the removal of some chairs and tables; and short-lived echoes of their footsteps sounded just a tad livelier.

Again, the curious thoughts would come as they slowly paced through the old bakery. Though they had never found the right mindset to find the answers to such personal questions, they knew from the looks on all of the Uesugi family members' faces that this place was surely loved. Cherished, down to every last little bit.

"Hey, Nino…" Miku slowly began as they continued through.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think… that we'd ever be successful enough one day to run a place like this all on our own?"

"Huh? What kind of questions is that?" Nino scoffed, placing one hand on her sister's shoulder. "Of course we are. Between the both of us, I don't have a single doubt in mind that we can pull it off. The last thing I need is for you—my partner—to start having her doubts now."

Miku welcomely smiled. "It's nothing like that, Nino. I was just… thinking." Past the counter and a few subsections later, they made their way up the stairs. Miku peeked her head around a corner. No signs of Fuutarou yet, and they continued onward. At some point, Nino figured it would have been easier to just shout out his name, but Miku had pointed out that she heard a voice from the room further down. The office, if they would have surmised. The door was also left slightly ajar.

"Fuutarou? Are you in h—"

"...we seem to be doing a lot more renovating around the place," Fuutarou's voice came from behind the door. Something about the tone of his voice caused Miku to remain still. It was a bit like that uneasy feeling she had some moments earlier, when Fuutarou had stepped past her.

"Something the matter?" Nino followed behind, but Miku beckoned for her sister to do the same as her.

"I think he's talking to someone…" Miku said. "Maybe we should come back later—"

"…I was just in the kitchen too," Fuutarou continued, "The cupboards and shelves were a lot emptier than usual, and most of the equipment was all packed up. We've never bothered repainting before, either. I thought that something wasn't adding up right."

A deep, tiresome sigh responded to Fuutarou. "You've always been a sharp kid, Fuutarou," the other voice replied. It was Isanari's. "I guess I should have expected you to get the idea, but I didn't want to say anything until a decision was made."

There was a short pause. An anxiously long lull where Nino and Miku tried their very best to turn their heels and leave, before Fuutarou bluntly said, "You're planning on selling Mom's bakery, aren't you, Dad?"

Like the world moved in a stagger, the four voices again fell to another silence. Nino and Miku quickly shot looks to the other, careful that neither of them would make any sudden noises. Had they both heard that correctly?

They were going to sell Uesugi Bakery?!

With another deep sigh, Isanari leaned his back against the desk behind him. There was no use keeping anything from Fuutarou—not while he had that look in his eyes. "I received an offer."

"I see…" Fuutarou calmly replied. "So I was right."

"You're a lot more rational over this than I thought, Fuutarou," said Isanari. "Figured I'd let you yell at me first before I had my say over things. Figured you'd at least put up more of a fight."

"I… had a feeling. Every time we came here, I always had a feeling. Maybe I always pushed it away, but deep down, things were always headed this way."

Isanari nodded. With slow footsteps, he ran his hand over the old desk, through the stacked boxes, and finally to the windowsill that they had yet to fully dust. From this window, he watched as the busy shuffle of street-shoppers and patrons made their ways across different ends and corners of the street. Once in his memories, he remembered this place as something quieter. Something more temperate, but the thought would always make him chuckle. As if he was still a few years too early to reminisce over things like that.

"You probably already know," Isanari began, "after they opened up the new station and the new shopping center nearby, this area has seen a huge rise in popularity. Most of those shops that were here when your mother and I opened this place are already gone." Passed the dull reflection of Isanari's face on the window, he fixed his gaze to the bright, easily distinguished branding of a fast-food burger joint. He could not help but feel a little old, remembering the kind, old couple that ran the flower shop that used to be there. There were times when they would walk over and give them freshly baked bread.

"Oh, what a lovely boy!" the old woman had then told his wife, Naoko, many years ago. The old couple waved as the shy, young boy hid behind the leg of his mother. "He's got the same look as your husband."

"Then he'll grow up to be just as handsome!" Naoko replied, smiling as she turned back to Isanari. "Isn't that right, Dear?"

"Of course," Isanari continued to explain to Fuutarou, "that also means our lease increases. Faster than it has ever been. Businesses get pushier. Debt collectors keep hounding. After a while, it just becomes exhausting."

There was a short silence, but to Fuutarou, the thoughts that ran through his head had robbed him of any sense of time. He could only picture the calluses and blisters that marked his father's hands, juxtaposed by how feeble his own looked in comparison. "Then…" he finally said. "Will you be honest with me about something, Dad?"

Isanari narrowed his gaze, already knowing what his son would ask. "You're still hung up over that, aren't you, Fuutarou? I already told you. It was not—"

"I want to believe you," Fuutarou interrupted. "I really want to. But let's face reality here. I am your oldest son. You and Mom had me when you both were around my age! The more I think about it, the more impossible it all seems. If I were in your shoes, how could I handle a kid, a bakery, and all of the medical bills—all by myself?" Fuutarou straightened himself. "Let me help. I'll work even more shifts back in Tokyo. I will take a break from school and find work—"

"Do not say that, Fuutarou," Isanari sternly replied. "You of all people should know how important a good education is. Or have you been feeding lies to those girls when you were their tutor?

"That's—" Fuutarou hesitated for a moment. "That's besides the point! Do you expect me to just wake up and go to class, knowing that while I'm all the way in Tokyo, you are struggling just to get by? How can I go to sleep at night and not feel guilty?"

"You're mistaken about one thing, Fuutarou—you don't owe me or your mother anything."

"But—"

"But nothing!" Isanari interrupted. "It's always been my decision to keep this place going. It was my stubbornness and my stubbornness alone that wanted to keep your mother's dreams alive. But I already knew. Your mother would not have wanted to see us arguing like this." Isanari slowly shook his head. "But you, Fuutarou—you're different. You're smart. You have a bright future ahead of you. And you worked your damn hardest to get into that school." He spoke with as much conviction as any father could have, sharpened down to a razor's edge by the look in his eyes. "Do not throw it away."

All at once, the bitterness that always lingered in the back of his mind had forced its way out of Fuutarou's mouth. "Well then what have I been working so hard for?! What was the point? You act as if I don't care about this place too! Or Mom! She was the reason why I wanted to study medicine in the first place. Do you have any idea the number of years that will take?! What else are we going to give up between now and then?! Didn't you—no, didn't we make a promise to Mom?!"

Fuutarou bit his teeth. Now was not the time to be getting angry, even if it was warranted. His father had always shouldered their burden all on his own, refusing any help from his kids. That was stubborn, alright, Fuutarou thought.

"Dad," Futuarou said, after taking a moment to calm himself down. "There are still ways I can help. I still work part-time, and I have a lot saved up, even from when I tutored. My scholarship will pay for the rest, so I can be comfortable. And if that's not enough, I can even…" He hesitated a moment, but quickly forced the thought into words, "I can even return Tappi back to Takebayashi's shelter, since I haven't adopted him yet. However more it is they're asking from us, I can make up the diff—"

"Raiha got accepted into Kurobara, Fuutarou."

And so compliantly had Fuutarou shut his mouth. All of the conviction he had gathered in these past moments—every bit of boldness and bravado—had suddenly fallen apart. No; rather, it was always brittle to begin with. Take a break from university? Terminate his own hard-fought scholarship? Idiocy in every sense of the word, and Fuutarou could only stand in shameful silence as his looked at him.

"You know, your mother must have had some incredible genes or something." Isanari chuckled, but the sound came off hollow. Distant, if only to force something between this silence they shared. "Because your old man here isn't the smartest guy around. Who would have guessed that an idiot like me could somehow end up with two brilliant kids? Honestly…" He slowly shook his head. "You two are such brilliant kids. You should know already, Kurobara is the same school those girls went to. It isn't the easiest school to get into. Nor is it the cheapest."

Isanari closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. Remembrance of the long years that made up these parts of his life slowly pieced together. A miscellany of bitter happiness and past regrets that followed him to the very spot he stood in, and the anger he so rightfully deserved. "Forgive me, Fuutarou. I haven't been the best father. Not to you and not to Raiha-chan. Because of my selfishness—because I was too stubborn to let go of this place—the two of you grew up with debt as a normal part of your lives. We've moved between smaller and smaller places; we skimp on every purchase we can get away with. Things like shopping or eating out together happen so rarely..."

Isanari looked Fuutarou up and down. "And now look at you. You'll soon be twenty years old, Fuutarou. My own son is already this grown up, and it won't be long until Raiha-chan catches up too. One day, you'll want to buy your own house and start your own family. I know that I made a promise to your mother that I would watch over this place, but more than anything else, I promised her that I would do what's best for you kids. That is why…"

He took a few steps forward, stopping in front of Fuutarou. For a moment, Isanari wondered just how quickly the years had gone to see that his son stood just about as tall as he was, and that the look in both of their eyes belonged to adults. Isanari placed one hand on his son's shoulder.

"That's why I want you to be free, Fuutarou. Both you, and Raiha."

And finally, Fuutarou spoke. Nothing quite befitting the long moments of contemplative silence. Only a hesitant, "…I understand, Dad," as he slowly nodded. "I understand."

"Forgive me again, Fuutarou," said Isanari. "It's the last thing I've ever wanted to do. I'll… think of a way of telling Raiha-chan, so for now could you keep it between—"

"I'll go along with your plan for now," Fuutarou interrupted. Though his sentiments had been every part compliant, there was something else burning deep within those golden eyes, formed to a piercing glare as he stared down his father. "I am going to keep studying. I'll work myself down to the bone to become a doctor. I'll become successful and make even more money than what any of these pathetic businessmen will ever see in their lives.

He pointed to floor beneath his feet.

"And I will come back here. Right back here, and to whoever owns this place, with an offer they can't refuse. No matter how long it takes."

"Fuutarou…" Isanari said, and for a moment, it looked as if he were ready to lose his temper next. "Weren't you listening to a single thing I said?! I told you, I want you to be free of all of this! All you're saying is that you're willing to burn yourself out completely. If you do that, you'll end up regretting it!"

"If I'm free, then I have the right to make my own decisions, don't I?" Fuutarou replied sternly. "I know it, Dad. I have what it takes to succeed. I'm smart. I work harder than anybody else. I can—"

Without any warning, Fuutarou felt himself being pulled forward—the collar above his buttons crumpled between Isanari's fingers, as if he were seconds from tearing it completely. "Don't you start getting cocky on me, Fuutarou," Isanari said. "You think just because you're a little smart and can say a few big words that you can do anything? Anything you want?"

Fuutarou clenched his teeth, staring into the eyes of his father. He did not need to have it said to him—he already knew it. And that was just how it had always been. Like his own place in the world was always to stand aside. To remain powerless against everything around him, biding his time for opportunities that only grow further and further away from him. The world ran on money. Flesh burned faster than paper bills, and coins left a heavier dent in the world than he ever could. If he were to find his own place in that world, then those were the truths he needed to accept. The kind of person he needed to become.

He opened his mouth to speak.

"W-wait, wait!" a muffled voice came from behind the door. "We can't just barge—"

"Your dad is right, Fuutarou!" Stepping through the doorway was Miku, clenching both of her fists as she stared him down. "What you're thinking about doing is too reckless!"

"M-Miku?!" Fuutarou exclaimed. 'What are you doing—wait, Nino too?! What are you two doing here?"

"Oh my…" Isanari looked down at his hand, slowly letting go of Fuutarou's collar. He exchanged quick glances between the two sisters. With a halfhearted chuckle, he said, "You girls… heard all of that, huh…? Well, that's a bit embarrassing, to say the very least."

"Ugh…" Nino clicked her teeth, then carefully stepped in. This isn't what we agreed on, Miku! Nino thought as she glared at the back of her sister's head. We were supposed to quietly slip away and think this over! What good is barging in now?!

"Sorry!" Miku quickly bowed to both of them. "We… we didn't mean to eavesdrop. We were only looking for Fuutarou because we wanted to apologize to him, and we ended up..."

"Apologize…?" Fuutarou asked. "Apologize for what?"

But Miku pressed on. Her thoughts were fixated on one thing and one thing only. At first, it was only a pleasant thought. A tiny little daydream she entertained within the confines of her own mind. Though, as she realized a little late in her life, boldness was a beast unwelcoming of any reins, and hesitation only led to temptation. And Miku had spent too much of her life hesitating. "Will you… will you sell this place to us?"

They heard the words loud and clear, but it was not before a prolonged silence before Fuutarou and Isanari let out a simultaneous, "What?"

"We're here to talk business." Nino reaffirmed. She stood right beside her sister. The way things were right now, it seemed as if rationality was not a common factor of those in this room. So, Nino carried on, claiming her own stake in this circus of bravado and brass. "Will you hear us out?"

"You want to…" Fuutarou said.

"…buy this place?" Isanari finished.

"That's right." Miku nodded. She looked to her sister, as if wanting to apologize for going through with this so suddenly, but the look that Nino gave back shared every part of her sentiments. Miku continued, "We understand where you are coming from. Our mother once told us that it was her dream to open a cafe. Her own little place where she could spend the rest of her life serving coffee and cake. We always thought that if she didn't have to take care of the five of us, she could have done it. That she would have been happier, even if she said the five of us were all that she ever needed. She said all of that, but...

Miku took another deep breath, placing one hand over her chest. "But even so, that thought made our mother happy. And now, it's our dream too. Nino and I told each other that we are going to one day open our place, and we want it to be here! So please, sell this place to us. And we… we can..." For some reason, Miku felt as if she needed to keep going and going. At what point in her life had she become the kind of girl who went from being told she said too little, to a girl who said too much? But still, Miku continued. "We can look after this place for you!"

"Mi… Miku…" Fuutarou began, but could not find the right words. "Isn't that… I mean, what you're saying is a bit… crazy, right? You're only just—"

"You are the last person here to talk about anyone being crazy," Nino retaliated with a glare. She turned her attention to Isanari, clearing her throat. Professional. She had to be professional. "Our apologies. Simply put, the two of us want you to consider selling us this place. I know we might be coming off as a bunch of kids asking for too much, but Miku is graduating culinary school soon. And I am on my way to taking my business certifications—sooner, if I have to. We can get the qualifications."

"But do you have any idea how much a place like this would cost?" Fuutarou said. "Opening a business isn't going to be easy. Especially if Miku is just coming out of school and you're still in school, Nino."

"He's right," Isanari added. "I respect the determination, girls, but there are a lot of things to consider. Maruo has helped me out too many times already, I couldn't possibly ask him to help here too."

"We have been working," Miku quickly followed up. "Ever since our third year in high school, Nino and I have been working. It's only been part-time, but we've saved every bit of it we could."

"That's right." Nino said. "We both decided that we wanted to make our dream come true with our own hard work—not with help from our dad. Everything we offer is what we've worked towards these past three years."

And so simply after, Isanari realized that all eyes were not pointed his way. If it were anything he could be convinced of, it would be that neither of the looks in their eyes had any reason to lie. Slowly, Isanari made his way back to the desk and tore off a single piece of paper and pen. "You girls got a lot of heart, I'll give you that," Isanari said with a bit of a laugh. He scribbled something on the paper and brought it back to them. "Here."

"What's this…?"

"This is the offer I received."

Fuutarou did not need to look at the paper himself to know what could have been written there. He saw how quickly the look on their faces dissipated, leaving only blank stares as they read the number over and over. "Nino…" Miku slowly began. "This… this is…"

Nino crumpled the paper in her hand, cursing under her breath.

"I'm sure you already heard," Isanari explained, "but a lot of places have had their eye on this place. For years, I've fended them off, but they just keep on coming. A dusty old place like this doesn't look good when the street is getting more popular." He deeply sighed. "They've drastically increased the lease. I get multiple calls every day. All of the other stores around here were bought-out years ago. Running a place here isn't going to be an easy thing, you girls. It's almost impossioble."

"Damn it…" Nino muttered to herself. She could hardly contain the embarrassment. "And just when we sounded so sure of ourselves…"

Miku looked down onto the floor, clutching the muffs of her earphones.

"If it were you two…" Isanari spoke up. "If I were you to give this place to you two... could I entrust you both to watch after my wife's dream, along with your mother's?"

The silence was instantaneous. A deafened moment in time where Nino, Miku, and Fuutarou had to play the words over and over in their head, as if they could have possibly misheard the man in front of the room. For every wild curve and turn that ran through their mind, it all gathered to three simultaneous, "Huh?!" as if the thought recoiled in their minds.

"You aren't being serious…" said Nino

"Why would you…" said Miku.

With as much heart as he could put into his voice, Isanari laughed. "Doesn't sound like a bad offer, no? What do you two say?"

"Hold on, hold on!' Fuutarou stepped in. "Dad, what are you saying?"

"Whoa, you're going to be the one against the idea? What's the matter? You don't want your friends looking over the place now?"

"That isn't what I mean, and you know that! I would… I would be thrilled if Miku and Nino were to take this place. They would be perfect, but…" His sudden excitement over the idea had sent an unexpected shock through the two sisters. "…but, isn't that a little much? Just handing it over to them like that?"

Isanari grinned at his son. "Maybe. But like I told you, Fuutarou, I was never the smartest guy. Not even close." His eyes turned to the girls across from him, and with his thumb pressed against his chest, Isanari declared, "I'm the kind of guy who goes with his gut. Sure, it's led me down a few bad turns here and there, but if it's gotten me this far, then I can say that it hasn't been half-bad either."

Isanari looked all across the office. "When my late wife and I started this place, we took out a bunch of loans as starting capital. Things were alright for a while, until she fell sick and we had to close the place up. Between those loans and all of the hospital bills, the three of us have lived in poverty for almost the entirety of my kids' lives. I ended up needing to take out more and more loans just to keep everything here together." He turned back to Miku and Nino. "That will be your girl's price for taking up this place. Because it is all signed to this bakery—all of the debt and interest that still remain—they will be transferred to you two. That's the best offer I can possibly give right now."

Nino and Miku exchanged glances at one another. By all means, it was not a bad deal. It was a great deal, even if there were some fine details that still needed to be finalized. However, right now, they only had one thing they wanted to clear up. "We don't know what to say…" said Nino. "It sounds so surreal. Like I'm dreaming right now…"

"But why us?" Miku asked. "Even if you could transfer the debt, you'd be able to do that and get a large bonus if you accepted the offer you showed us. It could pay for Raiha's school and Fuutarou's college. Throwing all of that away just to give it to us… I can't help but think that we don't deserve something so generous. Why… why us?"

"Because you're good girls," Isanari simply stated, and loudly, he patted Fuutarou's back. "You two, Itsuki-chan, Ichika-chan, and Yotsuba-chan, who hauled over three times the boxes as this son of mine!"

"Dad!" Fuutarou shot Isanari a glare.

Isanari ignored his flustering look. "My son here has never been the best at showing gratitude. So, if he's never said it to you directly, then let me be the one to tell you that the five of you girls really helped this guy out. I always thought that if I weren't always around to watch over him, he'd grow up to be all bitter and lonely."

Fuutarou mumbled something under his breath, but did not bother to push it any further. At this point, he was simply tired. Completely and utterly exhausted. Though, past all of the jabs and jeers that always found their way to him, he knew that it had always come from a sincere place. That was why, when no one was looking, he would hide a slight smile on his face.

"That's why, I can place all of my faith in you girls," Isanari stated. "You're all wonderful girls, and there aren't many more that I could trust to look after this place. I'll take that over some heartless corporation any day."

"But, aren't you worried that we might mess up?" Miku asked. "That we might not be good enough? We hardly know the first thing about running a shop, and yet…"

To her surprise, the first thing Isanari did was laugh. "That wouldn't be the first time I heard someone say that."

"What do you mean?"

He pointed beside him. To Fuutarou. "His mother said the exact same thing. From the day we first signed those papers, all the way to the night before we opened, she would say the exact same thing. All day and all night, no matter how many times I had to reassure her. Man, do I miss that woman. But, unlike my wife, the two of you won't be stuck with a lousy business partner."

The two sisters gave him a befuddled look—and as if wanting to confirm something mutual— Nino and Miku both looked to the other. The realization came slowly. There was no one else Isanari could have been talking to other than themselves, and the sister they had known so dearly across their entire lives. For a moment, it almost looked as if they saw different versions of themselves, reflected within the eyes of the other.

A sister. A partner.

"What do you think, Miku..?" Nino asked, still unsure of whether or not any of this was really happening.

"If it's the two of us…" Miku muttered. "I think… I think we could pull it off, don't you think? We will be partners, after all. We might just—no, we will succeed!"

"Then…"

As they quietly let the detail sink in, Isanari propped himself against Fuutarou's shoulder, grinning widely. "You seem pretty proud of yourself, Pops," Fuutarou said.

"You could say that," Isanari replied. "It's not the easiest call for me to make, but judging by the look on your face, I'd say you have no problems with the plan?"

"No…" Fuutarou shook his head, smiling. "None in the slightest. In fact, it might be the best idea I've ever heard from you."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it! Because that means you'll have to put up with your old man for just a while longer."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I actually will take you up on that offer." A devilish smirk formed across Isanari's face, and Fuutarou could only imagine what troublesome thing his father had in mind. "We aren't out of the woods yet. If we hand them the place, that means we won't see a single yen out of those deals the other businesses gave. We'll stop bleeding money over the bakery, but there's still the matter of the loans we took from the medical bills, and most importantly, making sure we send Raiha-chan to a good school. I'll be needing your help there, Fuutarou."

"I see…" Fuutarou sighed, but the air came out a little more spirited than he had expected. "In the end, it's still the same, isn't it?"

"Still got no problems with it?"

"What good is asking me that now?" Fuutarou answered sarcastically. "It looks like those two already made up their mind."

"We…" Nino and Miku both answered. "We'll do it! We accept!"

Dull reflections curved along the metal mixing bowl. Oddly distorted visages, widened and bent at every angle as she curiously circled around it. As these past minutes had grown to handfuls more, Raiha could not help but aimlessly eye and wander across the bakery's kitchen, busying herself with the same old surroundings she had looped over many times already.

"I wonder where is everybody?" Raiha muttered. "Haven't they been gone for a while, Yotsuba-san?"

Beside her, the fourth quintuplet had no trouble letting these idle minutes slip her by. Moving boxes around was tiresome work, and there was no better comfort than the soft, cuddly touch of a friendly feline. Yotsuba stood with her hands underneath Tappi's front legs, lifting him so that he slightly elongated in front of her. "Uesugi-san had better be taking good care of you, Tappi-san!" Yotsuba flashed her teeth. "And I hope you're taking good care of him too!"

"Umm… Yotsuba-san?"

"Hm? Sorry, did you say something, Raiha-chan?"

"I was saying that it's been a while since Nino-san and Miku-san left. I wonder if everything is alright…"

"Has it been that long?" Yotsuba looked around the room. It looked as if she concentrated on several different things at once, before finally settling on the thought. "Ah! You don't suppose they're trying to… skip out on doing chores?"

"Do you think so?" Raiha raised a brow, seemingly unconvinced. "No… I don't think that's the case. Hm…"

"Well, then how about we go look for them! Raiha-chan, you know your way around here. Where should we—"

"Umm… hello?" a voice sounded from beyond the bakery's kitchen. It carried through the vast, empty space of the main entrance, trailed with a slight echo as they continued to call out. "Is anyone in here? He…hello…?"

Raiha and Yotsuba exchanged odd glances to each other. A visitor? Here? "Were we expecting someone else, Raiha-chan?" Yotsuba asked.

"N… no?" Raiha replied. "No, we shouldn't have."

"Then, is it a customer?"

"A customer? Here?! Be serious, Yotsuba-san!"

Yotsuba giggled to herself. "Sorry, I forgot. Come on, let's go see who it is. Maybe they're lost."

They made their way out of the kitchen, poking their heads around the corner as they neared the bakery's main area. From the sound of their footsteps, it was only a single person. From the sound of their voice, they sounded a little familiar. Familiar, and oddly frightened. "Ah!" Yotsuba exclaimed. "Is that y—"

"AHH!" the visitor yelped, hearing the loud voice from behind her. She clutched the fabric of her top, right above her quickly beating heart, as she scolded, "Don't scare me like that, Yotsuba! I could have fainted!"

"Itsuki-oneechan!" Raiha happily called, recognizing the fifth sister. She happily made her way over, tightly wrapping her arms around Itsuki's waist. "You made it!"

"Hello, Raiha-chan," Itsuki said, patting the young girl over her head.

"I thought you said you were busy with classes today."

"I did. I just got back from them, and…" The smile on Itsuki's face slowly faded, remembering the thought. "Are Nino and Miku here? "

"We were just going to look for them," Yotsuba said. "Why? What's going on?"

No response. Yotsuba opened her mouth to ask again, but for some peculiar reason, there was something that held her back from doing so. As if the question was nowhere near as harmless as she may have expected, and Yotsuba hesitated. "Itsuki…?"

"When I got home," Itsuki said, "Dad was there looking for all of us. He… he said he got a call. From Himakajima."

"Himakajima…?" Yotsuba slowly came to the realization. "Wait, that's where—"

Itsuki took a deep breath.

"It's… it's grandpa. Dad said he's gotten sick. He's in the hospital right now."

Chapter Text

Steam over spring water. Ripples across a still water's surface, widened with the dips and sways of submerging skin. First, was the heat. The bite and sting of heated groundwater, fierce and feverish as it sunk into skin and stimulated the blood underneath. And so readily would it seek elsewhere. Wherever the waters could turn the most wearisome flesh supple, and all the troubles that burdened it to fade along the swirl and haze of steam. It all would fall into place so easily. So effortlessly. When the last parts of the body finally gave in to the temptation and fervor, all that was left was pure, comforting bliss.

Bliss—even if it were only ephemeral.

"Yotsuba," Miku nudged her absent-minded sister by the shoulder, leading her gaze to the dampened ends of her hair that crept out of her towel. "Your hair is touching the water."

"Huh…?" Yotsuba slowly blinked. Without realizing it, she had slouched so far into the water that her chin hovered above the surface. "Oh, you're right! Sorry."

She quickly lifted herself above the bath, taking one long look between the bamboo walls that encompassed them. Rows of tightly wrapped bamboo chutes; the same as they had always known, stretched high above them. Polished rock composed the perimeter of the spring bath, which she now pressed her back against. A thin layer of steam clouded the space, as if she basked in the comfort of a pleasant dream.

Toraiwa Hot Springs. It had probably been a little over two years since they had last paid a visit to their grandfather's hot springs. As children, they often frolicked through the wide hallways of the inn as they accompanied their mother. Thinking back on it now, the comfort that came within these walls must have been a sanctuary for their mother. A place that offered respite from the harsh reality that wiped away her smile, the moment Rena had to be apart from her daughters.

Now—after the many years that turned it all into wistful memories—the family inn had finally begun to show its age. Or rather, it had always looked this way. Once their eyes saw past the point of nostalgia, the wrinkles and tears would become a lot more clear. From the old paint and wallpaper that had always been the same as they could remember. To the wilt and droop of plant leaves, untended by their aged owner. And the scattered petals and dead leaves that littered the floorspace.

From her end of the bath, Nino tiredly stretched her arms above her shoulder, letting the bits of her fatigue drown with the spring water. "This place has really gotten old, hasn't it? It's funny. I feel like I am just noticing it now."

"I was just thinking the same thing." Yotsuba let her head lean back against the stone, watching the steam slowly drift upward. "It almost seems a little more different every time we visit. When we were here with Uesugi-san and his family, it was like no one else had been here for a long time. It makes me a little sad…"

"Unfortunately, it does make sense," Miku said. "Grandpa has always looked after this place all by himself, ever since Mom and Grandma passed away. It must have been hard, all this time." Her voice trailed to silence, and neither of them could find the words to continue. For a short while, the three sisters sat quietly within the bath, letting the sedation of the springs replace idle conversation.

Yotsuba was the first to perk her head up. "That must be them!"

"Huh?" Nino raised her brow, then turned her ear. There was hardly anything that caught her ears, and she listened more closely. Faintly, she could pick out a distant muffle. Something like the scoot of indoor slippers against the hardwood floors and the slide of the furthest door within the women's changing room.

Then came a voice. A familiar voice, benign with a light, cheerful air to her words. "Whoa, I think it's stuck or something?"

The three sisters attentively turned towards the door.

"It does that sometimes," Itsuki's voice came next. "Here, you need to be a little careful, but if you just do it like…"

With a hefty noise and a disorderly rattle—loud and sudden enough to suspect something actually had broken—the old door slid open. Standing at the doorway were two figures. First to stick her head through was Itsuki, mouth held agape as the fingers of her hand pinched the tip of her loosely-held towel. Her other hand, however, guiltily held onto the door's handle, with the rest of its wooden frame bent to a crooked angle. A drop of sweat fell from her head as she looked at what she had done.

"Well…" said the person beside her, blatantly amused, "it might be broken now…"

"I-I—" Itsuki quickly scanned over it. "Can we fix it somehow? Is it bad?! Can I—"

"Don't worry, I'm sure it's just caught on something. It is pretty old, after all."

Peeking her head through the door was a woman in white button-down collared shirt, tucked into black high-waisted pants. Her fingers pulled down the rounded sunglasses passed the bridge of her nose, swaying the silver chain-earring beside her right ear.

"Hey." Ichika gave a single, carefree wave. "It's been a while."

The first words stalled from their mouths For months counting, they all had closely kept up with Ichika as she made her waves across the American film scene. They saw every film and clip she was featured in, shared shots and photos of her professional modeling gigs, and even engaged in heated arguments with overly lecherous fans on the internet. She was their sister—their oldest sister they had known their whole lives—but in that brief moment their eyes met, it was like they were looking at a different person. Starstruck.

Eventually, Yotsuba was the first to greet her sister. Her legs shot straight up, splashing bits of spring water over Miku and Nino. "Ichika! It really is you. Long time no see!"

"Welcome home, Ichika," Nino said. "Hope you had a good flight. Come take a bath with us; you must be exhausted."

"It's good to see you again, Ichika," said Miku. "You're looking well. A lot… different, somehow."

"Different?" Ichika said as she began to undo the top buttons of her shirt. "How so?"

"Not in a weird way or anything. You just seem like you're a lot older now, I guess." Miku chuckled at the thought. "Though, I guess saying that does sound a little weird too."

"Tell us all about America!" Yotsuba eagerly said. "We've got so much to catch up on since you've been gone. Nino and I were wondering the other day if it was true that they—"

"Careful, Yotsuba. Don't hurry on out like that."

"But we haven't seen you in so long!" She spread her arms and puffed her chest. "Come here and give me a hug, Ichika! I've missed you so much!"

"We've all missed you," Miku added. "Things really aren't the same with you gone."

"I could say the same for all of you, too." Ichika pleasantly laughed to herself. She carefully began to unhook her earrings, letting the thin silver chains trail between her fingers. "Give me a minute, alright? The plane ride was really long, and I could really use a shower right now."

"Then let me help wash your back." Yotsuba grinned.

"Could you? That'd be great."

After slipping off the last of her traveling clothes, Ichika made her way to the nearby showers. Creaks of the old shower handles came with every twist, and Ichika could not help but curiously raise a brow when no water would come out. She tried again with the nearby shower and again, not a drop of water.

"Oh, right," Nino called back. "Forgot to mention it, but the showers are all broken here."

"Broken? Oh, you're kidding me…"

"Wish I was. There's only two working ones and they're on the men's side. You'll have to go there."

"That so? Well, then I guess I will have to—Hu… huh?!" Ichika quickly turned. "Wait, what do you mean 'go there'? The men's bath?!"

"Don't worry, we all did the same thing." Yotsuba gave a thumbs up. "Don't you remember? Since Grandpa is in no condition to work, the inn is closed. It's just us here."

"Right…" Ichika breathed a sigh of relief. "That explains why the place looks so empty. Well, I'm guessing it's been empty even before then, huh?"

"Yeah…" Itsuki replied. "Without Grandpa, there would be no one left to watch over this place…" Not wanting to continue the thought, Itsuki shook her head. "Anyways, Ichika and I should shower first. We'll be right back."

"Take your time, you two." said Nino.

After a short detour through the empty inn and another small handful of minutes later, Ichika and Itsuki returned to the women's bath. They welcomed their sisters back, but quickly noticed the looks of displeasure in both Ichika and Itsuki's eyes. Drips of cold water trickled from their skin and a shiver struck through their shoulders as they marched closer.

"Did I forget to mention that the hot water isn't working either?" Nino smirked.

"You might have…" both Ichika and Itsuki replied with a slight rattle to their teeth. They had no room for conversation, immediately seeking refuge within the warmth of the spring bath. It was almost paralyzing. Overwhelming. The moment their feet touched the water, the rest of their bodies followed, as if it absorbed their entire being, until the only thing they could control was the long-desired groan that spilled from their lips. Ichika more so, as the young actress had endured hour after tiresome hour tucked within the tubular confines of the soonest flight she could find back to Japan from California, and all of the fuss that came with.

And yet the feeling of home was enough to make all those troubles melt away, dipped within spring waters that felt downright heavenly as it poured over her skin.

As much as Ichika would have loved to remain just like this, she would eventually remember that this was not exactly some vacation. Nothing so carefree where she could keep that smile on her face for more than a brief moment. She thought of the handful of days that separated this morning from the day she had received that phone call. Somewhere, deep down, the five sisters knew that the days would eventually narrow for themselves and those around them. The clock stopped for nothing and no one, and no seconds, minutes, or hours could ever replace the ones that had been lost. There just was never enough time for everything.

Perhaps it seemed like too much to ask, but they all wished the days would come a little slower. Just a little.

"How is Grandpa doing?" Ichika asked. "Has he… I mean, is it alright if we all visit him at once? A few of you have already paid him a visit, right?"

Miku nodded. "Nino, Yotsuba, and I arrived two nights ago. The hospital is a bit of a walk away, but we called and they said it would be alright if we went and saw him. We weren't able to stay long though. He seemed really… tired. Happy to see us, but… tired."

"I see…" Itsuki muttered, looking down at the faded tinges of her red hair that made for watery reflection. "Do you think Grandpa has a lot on his mind? He's always loved this inn, and for as long as I can remember, he's worked here. I wonder if he'd worry about how the inn is doing right now."

"Knowing how Grandpa is," Nino said, "he's probably waiting to be discharged so that he can come back and fix the place up. Honestly… he is no condition for any of that. Not at his age, and not all by himself either."

Quick as the thought had crossed her mind, Yotsuba stood back up. "Hey, I got an idea!"

"What?"

She quickly wrapped her towel around her body, making her way out of the bath. "I think I'll do some cleaning up around the place! That way, Grandpa won't have to worry about it while he's in the hospital." Yotsuba took a valiant stop forward, feeling a small surge of gratification as the chores began to pile up in her head. "Now, where can I find a mop? I'm sure there's got to be one here somewhere…"

"Hey, Yotsuba! We're supposed to go see Grandpa right after this," Nino called after her, but the fourth sister had already set her mind. "What's the point of getting yourself all dirty again? Hello?"

"Ah ha…" Ichika laughed, but it was quickly followed with a yawn. "What I would do for at least ten-percent of Yotsuba's energy. I could really use that right about now."

"Are you experiencing any jet lag, Ichika?" Miku asked. "It's probably pretty late back in California. Maybe we can pick up some coffee for you before we go."

"Ha, sorry for the trouble. Thought I could make it through just fine, but I guess I overestimated myself." She quietly groaned to herself as she carelessly sunk deeper into the water. "That aside, let's talk about some of the good news! Nino, Miku! I couldn't believe it when I heard, but you two really decided to take up Fuutarou-kun's family bakery? That's amazing! How did you manage to convince them?"

To Ichika's surprise, Miku sank much lower into the water, muttering something like a response within the bubbles between her puffed cheeks. "Did I say something weird…?" Ichika asked as Miku's face turned bright red.

"She been like this ever since we made the deal," Nino remarked. "Every time I ask her, it's the exactly same thing."

"That's because…!" Miku immediately interjected. "I… I didn't know what came over me, okay? I mean… I'm happy that we did. And that they placed so much trust in us, but when I think about all of it… I just… the things I said were…" Miku hid her face, not wanting to remember her brazen attitude from days prior.

"I… I see…" Ichika halfheartedly chuckled. "Sounds like I missed out on something."

After a short while, Miku hesitantly continued, "The truth is though… I'm a little overwhelmed…"

"Overwhelmed?"

"We both are," said Nino, huddling her knees to her chest. "Miku and I seemed so sure of ourselves whenever we would talk about the future and the cafe we'd open up, but… it's a lot different when it's this… close. I'll be honest, it's kind of scary." Her fingers drew out of the water, and Nino expressed the troublesome thoughts with every finger she counted down. "'Building a Business plan'… 'Budgeting'… 'Market Research'… 'Legal work'…"

Nino let the back of her palm fall back into the water. "There is just… so much for us to do. So much for us to think about. We don't want to—no, we can't mess anything up."

Miku nodded. "Not after Fuutarou, Isanari-san, and Raiha-chan trusted us this much. Nino is right. It is scary to think about. It's like the more I think about it, the more I find out how much I don't know." As if shaking away her misgivings, Miku shrugged. "But what can I say? It's not like being stupid is anything new to us. We'll just have to do it and hope for the best, like we always have."

Miku's dry sense of humor and deadpan honesty was something that never failed to make her sisters laugh. Combined with the rejuvenation of the spring bath, moments like these felt long overdue within their busy lives. Once they settled again, Ichika looked beside her. "And you, Itsuki?"

"H-huh?" Itsuki stuttered. "M-me? What about me?"

"That's what I'm asking you, silly!' Ichika playfully nudged her shoulder against hers. "Have you and Fuutarou-kun been getting along lately?"

"Me and Uesugi-kun? Getting along? Yeah right."

"But hasn't he been helping you prepare for your teaching certification?"

"Yes, he has, but it's far from us getting along." Itsuki sighed. "I never once missed being Uesugi-kun's student, and it just seems like he's even harsher than ever before. I'm pretty sure he does it for personal reasons…"

"Are you sure the two of you aren't getting closer?" Ichika innocently smiled, but the distance between them grew shorter. "Because Fuutarou-kun has been telling me all sorts of good things about you. I can't help but think that my cute and adorable little sister and my boyfriend are getting a little too friendly…"

"I-I-I-Ichika!" Itsuki stuttered again, more profoundly than before. "That—I mean, did Uesugi-kun really say that we—no, I mean, Uesugi-kun and I are just—"

"Ah, I missed this so much about you, Itsuki-chan!" Ichika reached her arms around her youngest sister, hugging her tightly as Ichika's blithe laughter filled the room. "Come on, you know your big sis is just joking! Don't try to run from me!"

"Still, joking like that isn't funny…" Itsuki pouted.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just been so long, I couldn't help myself. Here, I'll make it up to you, but you gotta promise not to tell Fuutarou-kun, okay?"

"Not to tell Uesugi-kun? About what?"

Ichika nodded. "You know when I said Fuutarou-kun was saying all sorts of good things about you? Well… I wasn't lying, you know."

"I find that hard to believe." Itsuki rolled her eyes.

"You don't have to believe me." Ichika smirked. "But, you know, ever since Fuutarou-kun found out that Raiha-chan got accepted into Kurobara, he's been thinking about a way to express his gratitude."

Itsuki raised a brow. "Oh. I see."

"We both know how hotheaded Fuutarou-kun can be," Ichika continued, "he's not very good at things like that. Whenever I ask about your lessons, he says that you've improved a lot. Though… since the two of you always end up arguing, he doesn't know how to do it without starting a fight." Ichika laughed, remembering that it had always been this way between them. From the first day her youngest sister marched back to Ichika, furiously complaining about running into, 'the rudest, most thoughtless boy she had ever met,' and the stubborn days that would eventually follow. Perhaps it always looked as if things would never change between them, but neither Ichika, nor her other sisters would consider that to be true. Not entirely, at least.

"You've been tutoring Raiha-chan for a while now," Ichika continued. "She's made it into Kurobara thanks to your help. Their family has never been able to afford a private tutor before, and with Fuutarou-kun being so busy now, they all couldn't be happier that they met you. That includes Fuutarou-kun too. So… just for a little bit, be patient with him, alright? He'll come around."

She gently rested her hand over Itsuki's head, careful not to drip any water over her. "You've really been doing your best. Great work, Itsuki."

Itsuki turned away. It was as if she purposely sought such attention. She had thought that turning twenty years old would have put her past her childish desires, but the youngest quintuplet quietly reserved her gratification. Between the anxiety and ambiguity that made for all of their diverging lives as adults, moments like these served as delicate reminders that they were all still the same. And for those reasons, Itsuki would eventually realize just how much she missed having her oldest sister around. Sometimes, it was simply nice to be coddled.

"If Uesugi-kun really felt that way," Itsuki muttered, "then he has a really poor way of showing it. I'll admit that it's because of him that I was able to make it this far too. I… suppose I can put up with him. Just for a little longer."

"It really is like you never left, Ichika," Nino said with a smirk. "If it weren't for your California tan, no one could have guessed."

"Tan?" Ichika promptly stood up. Her neck, chest, and hips turned as she looked across her whole body. "No I do not! I hardly look any different from the rest of you."

"No, it's there. The rest of you see it, right?"

"You're lying. Tell Nino that she's lying, Miku, Itsuki. There's nothing, right?"

"Quick, while Ichika is still standing! Let's see if she gained any weight in America."

"I—I did not!" Ichika wrapped her hands over her bare waist. "You're just making stuff up now! Miku, Itsuki, quit laughing!"

They bantered back and forth. A short while spent in laughter and the heat of spring bath, until eventually, they began to get dressed. As they slipped on their bathrobes, they all could hear the sounds behind the door as Yotsuba quickly paced around the old inn. "Yotsuba must really be going at it," Ichika said as she fixed on her earring.

"I don't know what she's hoping to accomplish in such a short time," said Nino as she tied two butterfly scrunchies down either ends of her medium-length pigtails.

"Even so, I'm sure it would make Grandpa happy," said Miku, unwrapping the towel over her hair and letting the long strand fall over her face. After a few strokes with a nearby brush, the third sister finished by moving aside the remaining strands that fell over her face.

"We should go tell Yotsuba to get ready," Itsuki said, putting on her red glasses over her eyes. She opened the door.

Past the bright light of the midmorning sun, the four sisters stared with widened eyes across the courtyard. The wide, hardwood floors were cleaned of every litter of leaves, petals, and dust, wiped thoroughly down so that sunlight could faintly reflect off its surface. The wall-mounted lamps had been cleaned of any spiderwebs that spun around its fixture. In those short moments, the clouds seemed as if it parted, breathing new life into the Toraiwa Hot Springs.

And there, stood at the center of the courtyard, was Yotsuba, with her bright orange hair tied to a short ponytail. A mop propped against a nearby tree and a pail of water held in her hands, as the spirited quintuplet carefully tended to the nearby plants. Her fingers gingerly brushed over the wilted leaves and hunched flowers, as if they were all as beautiful as the day they sprouted from the earth. Compassion guided her hand and the pensive look in her eyes as her water pail poured over the plants.

"Oh?" Yotsuba noticed her sisters standing outside the courtyard. "Are we all getting ready to leave soon?"

Echoes along the halls. Bright walls of white and bespeckled beige, stretched widely as their steps trailed after them. Nothing quite like the well-renowned hospital that their father oversaw, the island of Himakajima served hospitals and clinics befitting of its humble size. Small and accommodating. Few rooms to hold fewer patients. Even finding an available hospital worker took a while longer than any of the five sisters had expected.

Room 06. A hospital room tucked along the outer bend of a curving hallway. A place that pleasantly faced the bright, risen sun, and the distant horizon that split two shades of blue. With the long hours that accompanied these short days, the five sisters could not help but draw upon the memories they had long since tucked away. Old thoughts that painted vestiges of their younger selves, and the innocence buried within naivety.

They had been here before. Once, during one of their visits, these halls once carried the echoes of their juvenile selves. Themselves, and the wearisome mother that carefully rested on the hospital bed. During those naive days, neither one of them could have expected their mother had already shown signs of sickness. "It's just a bad headache," Nakano Rena would have said to her daughters that cautiously peered from the doorway. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Are you doing alright, Itsuki?" Ichika looked over her youngest sister, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm… fine," Itsuki replied after a deep breath. She had not realized it, but her chest had grown a little stiff since they had entered.

"We can wait a bit if you want. Maybe get you something to drink?"

"No, that won't be necessary. Thank you. I'll be fine."

Ichika slowly nodded, then turned to her other sisters that waited a little ahead. "Are you sure Grandpa will be okay with this? We always showed up dressed as each other. If we were to shock him now…"

"He said that was all he wanted right now," answered Miku. "Before we left, Grandpa said that he wanted to face all of us for who we really are."

Ichika giggled halfheartedly. "So, he knew that we were wearing disguises the whole time, huh? I guess that shouldn't surprise me. Grandpa really does know all of us."

"That should be his room up ahead, right?" Yotsuba pointed ahead of them. "The nurse said we're allowed to see him, right?"

"Yeah," said Nino. "He should be waiting for us. If we're all ready, we can go ahead."

A few more thoughts stalled them as they neared the door. It was a short memory—almost unnoticeable as it faded into ambiguity over when and where it all ended. Somewhere, sometime after their mother's passing, the five quintuplet children had developed a regrettable fear of hospital rooms. After all, a hospital bed was their mother's final resting place, and the fear set far deeper for some of the sisters more than others. When Nakano Maruo had taken them under his care, he was surprised to find that the girls were apprehensive whenever he brought them to his hospital. One way or another, and a great deal of patience later, they all would eventually find the courage to step through one again. Perhaps it was all a matter of growing up. One single step at a time.

But now as they stood before this door, they could not help but passively hold onto their breaths. The first hand hesitantly reached out before gently pushing the door open.

"Ah."

A withered face greeted them. A slowly settling smile, widest whenever he saw the faces of the ones he held dearest to his aged heart.

"There you girls are. You all look so well right now."

One by one, they entered the room. "Hello, Grandpa," they all began to greet him, taking up nearby chairs and leaning against the nearby windowsill.

"Have you eaten already?" Nino asked, tugging the strap of her bag. "We brought you some food. It's your favorite. Fried fish and rice, with edamame."

"There's even some tea to go with it," Miku added, holding up a thermos. "Shall we pour you some?"

"Oh?" The smile on their grandfather's face had not dwindled. "Thank you, Nino, Miku. Yes… I think I would love some. You can set the food down right here, please."

He took a slow, careful sip. Slowly, the old man panned over the five faces of his granddaughters. Five identical faces—cherished since the day he first laid eyes upon their sleeping faces, tucked in the warm blankets of the hospital infirmary. And finally, he shook his head. "Sorry for making you girls worry. I hope your old grandpa didn't cause too much trouble."

Ichika gave a carefree wave. "It really is no problem, Grandpa. It means so much to us that we're all able to see you."

"Ah, Ichika." Their grandpa turned to his eldest granddaughter, carefully looking at the lighter strands of her shortly cut hair. "You… look a lot like you do on the TV."

"Eh?" She gave a surprised look. "You've seen me on TV before? Where?"

He pointed to the old-looking television set propped on the table behind her. "One of the nurses said she was familiar with some of your movies. I asked her to bring me some." He quietly chuckled. "I did not get some of it, but… you looked beautiful, Ichika. All of you girls do. You've grown up so much and you all have turned out so… beautiful."

There was a feeling. Subtle, but hardly unnoticeable within the five of them. Something that weakly held back an honest smile. "Thank you, Grandpa." Ichika smiled. "You're always so kind to us. Really. The five of us owe you so much."

"Nonsense. You girls owe me nothing."

"O-oh!" Itsuki slightly stuttered. "We helped clean up the inn before we came. Well, I mean, it was pretty much all Yotsuba, but you'd be surprised at how spotless it looks when you get back! Isn't that right, Yotsuba…?"

"Huh? O-oh! Right!" A little slow on the uptake, Yotsuba then puffed out her chest and placed her knuckles on her hips. "I gave the floors a good scrub down! I'm going to finish the second floor when we head back."

"Did you?" Their grandfather said. "I am grateful, but you didn't have to trouble yourself with that, Yotsuba."

"It was nothing." Yotsuba widely grinned. "Don't worry about it. Just focus on getting your rest, Grandpa!"

"Still… it must have been a lot of work. It's a very old inn. Very… very old, indeed. When I am no longer around, it probably won't last any…" He did not need to look up from the still surface of his teacup to know what sort of faces his granddaughters were making. How tightly their lips must have clasped between their teeth, and the solemnity that clouded their faces, thinning them down to the last reluctant smile.

Another slow sip of tea. Another bitter taste for all the misgivings that blemished this long, wearisome life of his. "Would you girls like to hear a little more about your mother?"

They all stared. Past the grayed hairs that fell over their grandfather's face and buried deep within his bleary eyes was a gaze that saw well beyond the four walls that enclosed this room. Every part meditative as it was melancholic. Blissful and bereft. As if he had thought about this very moment for a very, very long time.

"About… Mom?" Itsuki eventually asked. "What do you mean?"

"As a parent," their grandfather continued, "it hardly seems right for me to say. Rena was my daughter, but more importantly, she was your mother. That's why I must beg for your forgiveness when I say—your mother was not perfect."

Though they faced their grandfather earnestly, neither of them could ignore the smallest, most faint tinge of enmity that came with those words. Perhaps their grandfather was the only person who could say something like that and still be met with five faces that attentively waited for more.

"Rena… was a miracle in my life. She was hard-working, smart, and kind. Those things, I'm sure you all know very well. She wanted nothing short of what was best for all of you, and she held onto that belief until the very end. She was a strong woman. A woman of principle. However…" He slowly shook his head. "If there's one thing I know about my daughter is that she was too proud. Too stubborn."

"Proud?" Miku asked. Their mother had taught them all many things. To be careful with the kind of man they let into their lives. To share everything as five parts to one whole. Though, as unpleasant of a memory as it may seem, their mother would sometimes repeat those words as if it stemmed from shame. Words that fell so easily off her tongue, as if it were the exact opposite of pride. Faults. Regrets.

"Please make sure you don't become like me," their mother had then said. "My life… was full of mistakes."

Their grandfather nodded. "Though she had many regrets in her life, Rena wanted to be strong until the very end. For her daughters, and, for herself. She was always one who thought every mistake shall be corrected for. Every failure to be buried with even greater feats. Like she tried to erase everything."

He looked to each one of them again. "You all remember your mother for all that she has done for you. Perhaps you even worship her. But, a parent's flaws is what makes them human. What makes them someone you could truly look up to. Before she passed, Rena told me her biggest fear was if her daughters would grow up to become just like her."

"I just don't understand," said Nino. A bitter tear had formed under her eye, which Nino stubbornly wiped away. "Why would Mom think something like that? All this time, I just never understood Mom. She did so much for us, and yet, it's like she wants us to forget about her. I don't…"

"I will tell you more about your mother," their grandfather continued. "Everything that made for her strengths, as well as her flaws. Is it right to remember her only for her sacrifices and the pain she silently suffered? Is there not more to the person you all call your mother?"

"I…" Yotsuba fiddled with her grasp, tightening one hand over the other. She remembered their mother as a gentle, loving person, but there would be times where the person behind those eyes looked hollow. A stone-cold visage that she, nor her sisters, could ever read. "I think you are right, Grandpa."

"Yotsuba?" Itsuki asked.

"We never knew Mom, right? We were just kids back then. We believed everything she said, like when she told us she was getting better. Like when she was only going to be in the hospital for a little bit. I just… I wish that we…"

She felt a hand rest gently over her shoulder. With a careful smile that knew just when her sister's heart felt uneasy, Ichika reassured her. "I think the same way too, Yotsuba."

Yotsuba spared the moments to calm the heaviness in her throat.

"You all are Rena's children. I can see it so clearly; remnants of the woman Rena was lives on within all five of you. And while you all still sit at the cusp of your adolescence, I want you all to know just who Rena was."

They listened closely.

With short moments to collect his thoughts, and another pour of green tea after, their grandfather told him their mother' story. A story neither Ichika, Nino, Miku, Yotsuba, nor Itsuki had realized some chapters had been missing. Like the pages had been crudely torn off—one for each of their ailing mother's countless misgivings.

Nakano Rena was born on a summer day in Minamichita—a town on the southern tip of the Chita Peninsula, which administered the island of Himakajima. Her mother passed a few months after giving birth to Rena—a result from her already poor health that only worsened after childbirth.

To the quintuplets' surprise, they discovered that Rena was considered to be quite the tomboy in her youth. She butted heads with many older kids in the neighborhood, often ending in bouts of skill. Rena would sometimes come home carrying dirt and a few bruises, sulking. Other times, Rena would come with a gratifying smirk, claiming that she had won another game against some boys from the neighboring school district.

Frequently, they would ride the ferry over to Himakajima. Toraiwa Hot Springs was a place that their grandfather and their late grandmother had established all on their own. With the arrival of his first daughter and the passing of his wife, their grandfather had faced many difficulties in managing the inn all on his own. Just when it seemed like he was ready to close the place down once and for all, Rena had spoken to him.

"It was the first time in a long time that Rena had mentioned her mother to me," their grandfather said.

"She normally didn't?" Miku asked, puzzled. "How come?"

"Truthfully, I never knew myself. Rena seldom asked about her mother, but everyday I would see her pray at the altar. I was surprised when Rena pleaded with me not to sell the place. Her words stuck with me, even to today…"

"If this place is gone, I don't think I'll ever be able to face Mom."

They fell silent. Deep down, it seemed as if Rena truly harbored guilt for the death of her mother, and they both cherished before Rena had been born. No words that their grandfather tried could ever completely erase that doubt.

"I couldn't understand why she said that back then," their grandfather continued, "and maybe if I was a little better of a parent, we wouldn't have slowly drifted apart. Perhaps that was my biggest failure."

"She never told us that…" Itsuki said. "Drifting apart? It just sounds so strange to me. Mom has always told us how much you meant to her, Grandpa. She never…"

Their grandfather slowly shook his head. He continued the story, confirming that he ultimately decided to keep operating the inn. For the sake of his and his wife's dreams, as well as their daughter who found herself at peace laying on those tatami mats. He would have to quit his job in order to operate the inn full-time, and because of that, he began to see his daughter less and less. During the busier holidays, they would go days on end without so much as seeing each other.

"I hadn't noticed it then, but we were already drifting apart. She had her own friends, her own life. I thought I was doing what was best for her as a parent, until…"

There was a pause.

Before either of them could question the dismal look on their grandfather's face, they realized just what part of their mother's life he had remembered.

"…I found out Rena had fallen in love."

They all held back a grimace. Sooner or later, they had expected things would lead to here. As much as they dreaded to so much as picture that man's face, they continued to endure the silence. Now was not the time and they quietly listened.

"Of course, as a father, I was alarmed when I found out," the old man continued. "But because we had drifted so far apart, Rena had become difficult for me to understand. Difficult for me to read. Maybe that was why the two of us had a falling out when I discovered that the man she had fallen for was her homeroom teacher."

"A falling out?" Nino asked. "You… and mom?"

The bitter memories surfaced as he retold his regrets. "She was utterly infatuated with that man. Inspired by everything he said. I couldn't stomach the idea of someone taking advantage of my daughter. I demanded that she stop seeing him at once. I confronted them when they were alone together. I blamed her naivety; that he was a bad man. I thought I was doing my responsibility as a father, but Rena… she screamed at me as if I were a stranger. Maybe to her, that might have been true."

"It was the first time Rena ever looked at me that way. It took me so long, but I realized just how much my daughter had changed. She had grown out her hair when she normally kept it shoulder-length. She had pierced her ears when she always said she was scared of needles. That man was already romantically engaged with another woman, you see. And Rena took after her, lying to herself so that he would choose her instead."

"Grandpa…" Miku muttered. "I… don't know what to say. I never thought that things had turned out that way."

"Forgive me. It must not be pleasant to hear this about your mother. I understand if you girls are upset with me."

"No, I don't think any of us are," said Ichika as she looked to her sisters. They all quietly nodded. "Please, we want you to continue."

He spared a few more moments to collect himself. Rena was already eighteen years old when their grandfather had found them out. Like the flicker of a tiny candle flame—moments before it dissipated to smoke—he felt as if his world had suddenly grown darker when he returned home to find Rena was no longer there. In a letter left behind in the room of her childhood, Rena explained that she had decided to move to Tokai with the man she had fallen for. He had found new work and a new city, and Rena would follow after him. As his girlfriend.

For years, their grandfather was separated from his daughter. He had conceded his responsibilities, for his daughter was now an adult and he had no right to control her life. That was what they were. Rena would send letters back home to let her father know that she was well. She had started a job as a teacher, had moved into a new home, and gone on trips with friends. That was enough to ease their grandfather. That should have been enough.

"The next time I saw my daughter," their grandfather continued, "it was like a storm had fallen over her life. She appeared just as suddenly as the day she had left. And she… was pregnant with five children. Quintuplets. And she was all alone."

The thought had never sickened them more. A few almost looked as if they would vomit. Others, as if they were ready to smash the nearest thing into the tiniest of pieces. "Just thinking of his face makes me fucking sick…" Nino muttered through her clenched teeth, and Miku and Ichika had to calm her down.

The old man slowly nodded. "I was just… happy to see her come home. That night, I let Rena sleep in the same room she grew up in. I didn't ask her any questions, or scolded her, or just anything. She just looked so… tired. I knew it must have taken a lot of courage for her to come home. And in the morning, I was happy she was still there. We had the same breakfast we always had—steamed rice with grilled fish. And after, she prayed again to her mother. Like she had never left."

He remembered the next morning, clear as it was on that summer day.

"Hey, Dad," Rena had asked him over breakfast.

"Hmm?" he replied. "What is it, Rena?"

"Do you think… maybe, we could go to the inn today? To Toraiwa…?"

"Toraiwa? But it isn't the season for travelers right now. I haven't prepared the baths for reopening, so…"

"That is alright," Rena said. "I just want to visit there. It's been… a long time."

Their grandfather pleasantly smiled. "Your mother always felt at peace when she was there. Like it was the only place that provided her comfort. After the five of you were born, she would always ask to come back here, and I would always reopen whenever she asked. Eventually, I moved there permanently and kept the inn running all year round."

He looked at all of them once more. "I will never forget the day your mother brought you five here for the first time. You were like little angels. I always pestered your mother when would be the next time I get to see my grandkids, and Rena would eventually cave in to my selfish requests. Though… a part of me thinks that she mainly did it for herself."

"For herself?" Yotsuba asked.

The old man nodded. "Every time Rena would come, she always would look more and more exhausted. But, for a moment, it looked like all her troubles were gone. Like she could finally smile, after such a long time. And I think…" He slowly shook his head. "No, I know it's because of the five of you."

"U-us?" Itsuki said. "I don't really understand. From what you've told us, it almost sounds like… like we were…"

"Like we were burdens?" Miku finished reluctantly.

And just the same, Itsuki nodded.

"I think I can understand why any of us would think that," said Miku. "She sacrificed so much for us. That man left her because he found out about us. Sometimes, it's hard not to think what more we could have done for her…"

"Maybe if we got along better at times," Ichika added, "it could have relieved some of her stress too."

Quietly, their grandfather laughed. "No… no, that hardly is the case. In fact, I would say it's the opposite."

"The opposite?" Yotsuba asked.

As far as the old muscles to his withered face could widen, their grandfather joyously smiled. "You five… saved your mother."

Like a hole had formed in their hearts, the feelings inside themselves had become rivers. Streams that carried away their qualms, their doubts, all along the endless flows. For a moment, it felt almost weightless. "We… saved her?" Itsuki asked.

"The last time I spoke to my daughter," their grandfather continued. "She had this to say to me…"

A gaze that saw well beyond the line where oceans met skies. That day, eight years ago. The gentle breeze of a late summer's day entered through the open window, carrying with it the stray petals of the outside flowers. One of the stray petals carefully rested upon Rena's lap, as the sickly mother sat up from her hospital bed.

"I think… I can finally understand now." Rena quietly said to herself.

Her father was beside her, setting down a few pieces of food that he had brought from home. "Understand what, my dear?"

"Why Mom would have wanted me to be born." Her tired eyes fell over her lap. "You, and Mom. Maruo too. And now… Ichika, Nino, Miku, Yotsuba, Itsuki… I never realized that… I really could be wanted after all. "

Her father stood silently, listening to every last word from his daughter.

"I gueaa… this whole time, I really was worrying over nothing. It really took this long." Rena turned, smiling at her father. A picture so clear in his mind, he would remember it for all the time he had left in this world. "Sorry, Dad for being such a troublesome daughter all this time."

He slowly sat down beside her, offering her some of the peaches he freshly cut. "That is nonsense, Rena. You don't have a single thing to apologize to me for."

And now, eight years later, he now rested within a room so similar to the ones he had visited. Through every tear-filled eye that looked his way, he told his granddaughters, "Love everything. All of her sacrifices, all of her deeds, and all of her flaws are what made her Rena. Your mother and my daughter."

"Be true to yourselves, my dearest granddaughters."

Time had eventually crept through the windows of the hospital room. Long shadows cast from the window pane, slicing through the walls of the room. How quickly the time must have gone for them to realize just how many hours had past since they first entered the room. After the last tear had shed and the long silences that fell after it, the six that remained within the room had slowly learned that the ephemeral things in life were things meant to be cherished. They all knew that if their grandfather did not have much time left in this world, then the memories left behind from moments like this would last a lifetime.

And for this moment in particular, the five of them commemorated it with a single photo.

A photo where all five of them huddled around the blissful smile of their grandfather.

"You're looking a little tired, Grandpa," Ichika said as brought him another pillow. "Shall we let you rest for the day?"

"I think you're right, Ichika," their grandfather said.

"The day really has slipped by," Miku said as she looked out the window.

Itsuki nodded. "It really has. I guess it is time for us to take our leave then, Grandpa."

"Thank you all for visiting me like this," their grandfather said as he settled back into bed. "I love each and every one of you."

"We love you too, Grandpa," Nino said, leaning in to place a quick kiss on her grandfather's cheek. The rest followed after. They shared long hugs and gave quick kisses, telling each other how dearly the other meant to them in this life they had lived. And one by one, they all began to gather their things.

All, save for one.

"We're heading out now, Yotsuba." Nino waved a hand over her sister's face, snapping her away from her reverie. "You okay?"

"Is something wrong, Yotsuba?" Their grandfather raised a brow. "Are you not feeling well?"

Her sisters that gathered by the door curiously looked over as Yotsuba stood straight up off her chair. Her hands wrapped over each other, tightening with the sharp draw of her breath. Before anyone could ask her again, the fourth sister asked, "Grandpa. What will happen to the family inn?"

The look on their grandfather's face settled peacefully. "Ah. You're wondering what will be of it when I am gone?"

Reluctantly, Yotsuba nodded. The rest of them listened closely.

"Ha… well," their grandfather said, "I suppose it will still be there. For a while. It hasn't been in any state to accommodate any guests for months now. The assets and estate will be liquidated and what's left will be given to you girls. It might not be much, but I hope it shall help you out now that you're all grown up."

"Liquidated…?" Nino muttered. "As in, everything will just be sold off?"

"No way…" said Itsuki. "I-I hadn't thought about that at all. Does that mean Toraiwa will be gone for good?"

"It might still be there," said their grandfather, "but it most likely will not still be named Toraiwa. Now, now girls… there's no need to make that face. It's to be expected."

"I know, but… after everything you said about you, Grandma, and especially Mom…"

"It's alright, Itsuki," he reassured her. "Do not fret over it. Your grandmother, Rena, and I have all made our peace with that place. There is no point in being concerned with our pasts when you all have your own futures ahead of you."

"But…" Yotsuba suddenly said. "But what happens if that's what we want too?"

"Hm?"

"We love that place too, Grandpa. I love that place. I loved running through the halls when we were kids, and taking care of the flowers with Mom. It was… fun. I'm sure that was the first place I ever watered a flower and watched them bloom. I'll never forget it."

"Yotsuba…"

Again, Yotsuba sucked in the air over her nose. Loudly and lengthily, as if the air in this room buried the answer she had long sought after. "I think… I think I've finally found something I want to do. I'm sure of it!"

They all stared at Yotsuba as she politely bowed forward. "Grandpa… will you entrust Toraiwa to me?"

Chapter Text

Roil of golden yolks. Taps and batters to sound every twirl within the brilliant pool, stretched to viscous strands of yellow as it clung to the wooden chopsticks. Next was the sizzle. A simmer to bubble a golden pool, and all the delectable scents that rose with it. Fold after fold, the form fluffs and finalizes. At a glance, it all seemed a little too plain. Too ordinary. Though, there was always beauty in the simple dishes, and even a pinch of green onion was as good of a luxury as any. And when it all paired next to fresh scoops of seasoned rice and a bowl of miso soup, no appetite could go unsettled.

Eight sliced bits to portion. And a little extra for the hungry eyes just above his refrigerator— Tappi's favorite spot. His times spent chopping, cooking, and cleaning around the small hallway kitchen would often attract a small audience to observe his every move. The curious cat would had developed a special course that lead from the floor, to the nearby floor cabinet, and finally to the flat top of his small refrigerator. Fuutarou was at least thankful that Tappi was a well-mannered cat, offering nothing more than the crane of its neck as he followed Fuutarou along, swaying his long tail off the ledge like a feline pendulum.

Fuutarou held up his hand, feeding a few more scraps to his patient companion. "Careful getting down, Tappi" he warned as if the cat could understand him. Fuutarou continued through, placing down a couple of things on the wooden tray. A pair of clean chopsticks, a small dish, a bowl for rice and another for the miso soup, along with a ceramic mug for the tea.

And, another set right after.

"Hey," Fuutarou said. "It's already morning…"

He stood over the bundle of blankets that made for a messy bed, one hand placed on his hip.

"…Ichika."

Stirring in her sleep was a mess of morning hair. Pink strands shook to a ruffle. A voice that embodied lethargy in her slow mumble, submerging further with the sheets she greedily pulled towards her. "F…five… ten more minutes, Fuu… tarou… ku…" Ichika's voice dwindled to soft breaths before she could finish.

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "That's what you said when I started cooking breakfast. Now look; I just finished."

"But… mmm…" Ichika mumbled again, longer with her every sluggish movement under the covers. "Okay… fine. I'll get up… right about…"

"Ichika."

"Okay, okay. I was just getting up." The young actress tiredly yawned. Her arms drew high over her head, stretching tiredly as she greeted the morning. All the while letting the blankets of Fuutarou's bed slowly slip along her fully exposed skin, halting at just the right parts of her body to leave him wondering what made him so upset in the first place. And by the smug look on Ichika's face, she was far from coy about it. "I'll go wash up. You can go ahead and start without me."

"I… I don't mind waiting." Fuutarou replied. Shifting his gaze a little to the side, Fuutarou handed her one of the clean shirts from the nearby drawer. "It won't be long anyway, right?"

Ichika smirked. The cute, bashful looks on his face were more than enough to make her entire morning. She made her way to the bathroom, saying to him, "Yeah, I'll make it quick. Don't miss me for too long, okay?"

"I'll do my best not to."

"Ah, good morning to you, Tappi-kun." Ichika stroked her fingers through the length of the stretching cat, pleasantly amused by how softly he purred back. When she had arrived the night before, Ichika was met with his cautious eyes that found its way between the gaps of furniture, or perched along the few vantage points he could fit, or underneath the bed she curiously peeked under—wherever Tappi could distance himself from the playful woman who was adamant on not leaving him alone.

"Looks like he's finally gotten used to you," Fuutarou said.

"He really is just like you, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika grinned back. Her fingers stroked the soft underbelly of the outstretched cat at her feet. "One way or another, Big Sis will always find her way into your heart. That's my guarantee!"

"You're just so full of yourself, aren't you? Just go and get ready before the food gets cold."

"Alright, alright." She continued along. When she made her way into the bathroom, Ichika turned back back one last time. "Oh, and Fuutarou-kun?"

"Yeah?"

She devilishly smirked. "You know… you weren't half bad last night. I never knew you could be so—"

"T-the food will get cold, Ichika!" Fuutarou loudly interrupted, and with a short giggle, Ichika disappeared behind the click of the bathroom door. He was left with a flustered grimace on his face as he looked over his room and the long night they had spent together. While he waited for her, he began to do a bit of tidying up around the place. All it took was one night to transform his small apartment into a small disaster. Though, it was nothing like the first night Ichika had spent here. His presence and his scolding had kept the slob that he called his girlfriend from being completely careless to where she tossed aside her things.

Though, Fuutarou could not help but feel a little embarrassed as he went through the corners of the room. Now when the evidence scattered all across the floor, and over the chairs, and on top of the furniture that made for his small studio apartment.

They both sat down for breakfast. A humble spread to start off their day, and Ichika delighted in every taste of it. After all, food tasted best when it was made by the one who pampered her most. "Sorry for making you do all the work, Fuutarou-kun," Ichika said as she took a bite of tamagoyaki. One hand cupped the side of her cheek as murmured over the delicious, home-cooked taste.

"Don't mention it. You've been a little jet-lagged since you got back, so I won't blame you. The week really went by, didn't it? I'm just happy that I get to see you again."

"You're too sweet. I'll make it up with lunch today, how does that sound? What are you feeling? Pizza? Ramen? Or maybe some curry?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Futuarou questioned. "Also, why is the first thing you think about is takeout? Don't tell me that's what you've been eating while you're in America…"

"I-I'm not! Wait… why do you ask?" Ichika raised her elbows, alternating glances between the the left and right sides of her hips. All the while, she carried something between a puzzled and pouted look. "Does it seem like I gained weight? That's not what you're saying, right?"

"I… didn't say any of that? Where did you get that idea?"

"But it's not true, right?"

"That wasn't what I was—" Fuutarou stopped himself. Now was not the time for banters, and the dark-haired boy promptly placed down his chopsticks. His back straighten, his eyes fixed firmly into the worrisome look in his partner's eyes, and Fuutarou plainly stating, "No. There's no way that's true. If anything, you look better than ever, Ichika."

"You're not just saying that just to make me feel better, are you?" Ichika asked, layering her arms over her stomach. A short lapse in his judgment had made Fuutarou briefly picture the girl in front of him to be Itsuki, complete with the exact same expression and posture the youngest sister would have made over the same concern. If his judgment had been any poorer, Fuutarou would not have been able to promptly and confidently reassure her.

"Of course not," Fuutarou said.

"You mean it?"

"Wholeheartedly."

"Alright… fine. I trust you, Fuutarou-kun. I know you wouldn't lie to me." Ichika picked back up her chopsticks and resumed eating. "Sorry. It was just some stupid thing the girls said. Anyways, what were we talking about?"

"I was going to bring up our plans for today," Fuutarou said. "Remember? We were talking about it last night."

While the chopsticks were still in her mouth, a small bulb had flickered in Ichika's head. "Ah, right! Hanami!"

A picnic under the ephemeral grace of the cherry blossoms—a season in full bloom. From the final days that made for two seasons' passage, the warmth of a gently approaching springtide would leave many feelings to flourish. Comfort, leisure, love. Spring signaled the close of another year during these decisive moments that made up both of their lives. Their only regret from the year prior was that Fuutarou and Ichika had never gotten the chance to fully enjoy this moment with just the two of them, and them alone.

"I can't believe I forgot," Ichika continued. "I never thought we'd be able to spend Hanami together this year. It'll be our first time."

Fuutarou nodded. "Let's make good use of the time we have together. Before we send you back to America again."

"Yeah…" Ichika took a long breath. She eyed the corners of this tiny apartment she so easily called home. It did not need to be lavish; it did not need to be humble. As long as the one she loved most was waiting for her, Ichika would want nothing more than to hurry back to wherever it may be. She stood on her feet, lifting her arms high above her head. "Okay! Let's make sure we do our very best!"

"Who was that supposed to be?" Fuutarou chuckled. "Yotsuba?"

"Heh…" Ichika chuckled. "Thought it'd be nice to have a bit of her energy. I could surely use it from time to time. In fact…" Ichika stepped around the table, making for the yellow colored coating of her traveling luggage. The large pockets unzipped, and Fuutarou was left with only a grimace as he saw the bundles of clothes forcefully shoved inside. Perhaps at one point they were neatly folded, but that time already seemed so far gone. Ichika hardly seemed to mind, as the young actress eventually fished out a pair of dark gray fitted leggings and a neon pink sport tank top. She turned beside her, "Fuutarou-kun, let's go for a quick jog!"

"Jogging?" He raised a brow. "Wait, right now?"

"Why not? It helps with getting my day started. I haven't done it at all since I've came back."

"It's just a little out of the blue. We still haven't thought about what we'd bring to our picnic."

"Wanna do something simple? Like onigiri?"

"Oh… that was the last of the rice too. If we're making onigiri then I suppose we'll have to wait for it to cook first… I suppose it'll be fine. Though, I don't have a good pair of running shoes…"

Caught within his straying thoughts, Fuutarou had not realized that his partner had leisurely stepped around the tea table. Her arms caressed him by his shoulders, and there was heaviness smothered against his back as she leaned over him. "Come on, it'll be fun! And besides…" Ichika played with the short strands of his dark hair, parting the bits that fell beside his ear. Warmth of her whispers sent chills down his spine. "We do need to work on your stamina a little, Fuutarou."

His knee rattled the table. Any stronger and he would have spilled some of the teacups over. And something about the way Ichika smirked at him told the flustered boy that she would have been the least part apologetic. He felt himself swallow large gulps of air, and with his face turned, he sputtered, "K-knock it off, Ichika! Look, we'll go, alright? Just… just let me get changed and we'll go."

They continued their morning routine. A bit of time to put away their plates and perform a little tidying up before they left the apartment. Fuutarou had mentioned that there was a nearby path they could run that passed a small park. From there, they could follow the main road that would eventually lead to the one of the large ponds Fuutarou had often found his fellow university students running along. Simple enough. He had confidence enough that he could keep up with Ichika, and if it were only a short jog then it should not have been too much of a problem.

Ichika wanted to believe it too. She wanted to disregard the subtle guilt that slowed her stride, knowing that she had hardly broken past a light sweat compared to the lumbering, panting, worn out boy that trailed behind her. This was all after one round. She jogged a few steps back to him, taking off her earbuds. "You alright there, Fuutarou-kun? Wanna take a break?"

"I'm… fi… fine…" Fuutarou leaned over his knees. Dribbles of water slipped from the corner of his mouth and into dampened spots on his shirt.

Ichika patted him gently on the back. "Take your time. We'll continue once you've had a breather."

"I underestimated the distance…" Fuutarou mumbled to himself, wiping some of the water from his chin. "I thought I've improved. At least a little, but I'm already this worn out."

"For what it's worth, you're a lot better than we first met." Ichika laughed. " Jogging might seem simple, but if your form is off, then you're just making things harder for yourself. Here, start with standing a little straighter."

"Like this?"

"Posture too. It helps a lot to keep your chest and shoulders lifted like that." She ran her fingers and palm across the length of his chest, playfully patting the sturdy muscles underneath. "Your strength has gotten a lot better, but it's worth throwing in a little more cardio to go with your workouts. Oh, and make sure to also land evenly on your feet and not just your heel."

Fuutarou slowly nodded, pinching the tip of his chin. "I see… so I just want to…"

"Ah, and don't overthink too much either. Just feel it!"

After a quick breath, Fuutarou straightened himself. "Alright. I think I'm good now. We can continue."

"Great! We'll take a little slower going back." They continued down their jogging route. Wisps of the springtime wind blew past them, stirring the fresh fallen petals of the cherry blossoms. A pleasant morning for a pleasant day.

"By the way," Fuutarou said while he jogged beside Ichika.

"Hm? What's up?"

"We could use a few more things for our picnic. Should we stop by the convenience store before we head back home? We past by one on the way here."

"'Before we head back home,' huh…" Ichika repeated after him, letting the words settle in her words settle just off her tongue. Her gaze fixed forward, towards the tall buildings that made the city of Tokyo, and all of the people that coursed within it. Somewhere within this city of millions was a tiny place—one surrounded in four walls with a warm bed, a small table, a curious little cat, and a boy who had all the patience in the world when it came to her. Somewhere here was another life she so greedily wanted—one she sometimes felt was so far away that it made today's memories feel just like a dream. If it was, then the daydreaming girl wished she could close her eyes for that much longer. "Sure. But first, do you mind repeating that one more time, Fuutarou-kun?"

"What? Heading back home?"

"Yeah… that. It just sounds… really nice when you say it."

And slowly, Ichika picked up her pace. She happily raced forward, leaving her partner to clumsily chase after her. "Hey! Wait up! Ichika!"

"You've had it too easy. Try and keep up!"

"Are you kidding m—Ichika! Come on! You're just running now!"

She turned back. As bright and wide as the shimmers of where sunlight met the surface of the pond they ran beside, Ichika grinned. "I just want to hurry home!"

After a broken rhythm to their route and a few turns around familiar corners, the two of them had found their way to a nearby convenience store. Fuutarou had frequented this place between his long walks to and from Tokyo University. It only needed to be a quick trip. A brief stop to gather whatever snacks that suited their cravings and whatever drinks that tasted best within the warmth of a bright spring day. Though, at this moment, Fuutarou found nothing more desirable than another bottle of water, which he already went through the trouble of purchasing the moment they entered the store.

For Ichika, she picked out a bag of chocolate mushrooms, a container of pickled vegetables, and a bottle of mocha frappucino. For Fuutarou, he grabbed a small container of karaage, tri-color dango, and a large bottle of green tea. They even picked up a small slice of strawberry shortcake when they both found themselves eyeing it a little too long. "We don't need to pick up anything else too heavy" Fuutarou said as they strolled into another aisle. "Onigiri will be our staple, so we can pick up some of the filling here. Anything come to mind?"

Ichika looked at the rows of canned foods, humming quietly to herself. "Hmm… well, you can't go wrong with some tuna. Salmon sounds fine too. Or would something more seasonal seem better, like sakura onigiri?"

"Not sure if we'd find the ingredients to make it here," Fuutarou replied. "But you're right. Seasonal sounds like it'd be perfect. We can just grab two of the ones they made here."

"Good idea." Ichika nodded. "Then, do we need anything else?"

Fuutarou thought for a moment. "No… nothing quite. I think everything else we'd need is already back at my place. Oh, how about for later tonight? Should we think about something to cook, or are we going to pick something up?"

"It's looking like it'll be a long day for us," said Ichika. "Maybe it'll be better to just take it easy tonight?"

"So takeout?"

"If you're down for it. We could order some pizza. Perfect if we want to watch a movie or something tonight."

"Pizza? I don't know. That sounds like it'll be a little pricey for just us two."

"Come on; I'll even cover for it! It's the least I can do for your hospitality." Ichika winked at him. "And you've never tried any before, right? It's good to treat yourself every once in a while."

"I mean, if you're insisting that much." Fuutarou shrugged. "Alright. Sure, I'm up for it. Let's just finish up what we need here then." He placed the last of their goods into the basket. "Do you think—"

"Hey," a voice strolled behind them, "isn't that that one actress?"

They both stiffened their shoulders. Before they could even think about what excuses they could come up with, two boys who looked no older than high school students had approached them.

And continued past them.

"Oh Morioka Misako-san?" the second boy. "Dude, I am a huge fan of her. She is just so hot. You ever seen her…"

It was only then had Fuutarou and Ichika realize that they stood right beside a row of vibrant, printed page. Bright and bold letters decorated the front of each publication, with clear imagery that advertised what was in the pages. A magazine rack.

They both let out a deep sigh. "I almost forgot about that," Fuutarou said, now looking a little more cautious than before. "Is it really a good idea for you to be walking around like this? What if someone recognizes you?"

The young actress's attention lied elsewhere. Pulling aside the magazine those boys were looking at, Ichika began to slowly examine the cover. "Ah, I see, I see…" Ichika muttered to herself.

"Ichika?"

"Hm?" She lightly flinched. "Oh, sorry. What were you saying, Fuutarou-kun?"

"What's gotten you so spaced out?" He glanced over at her hands. "A magazine?"

"Yeah. Do you remember her?" Ichika held up the cover for him to see. It was a portrait shot. The actress at the center was a glamorous looking woman with long, brown hair. A litter of intrusive text decorated the space around her, with the most prominent text detailing—'Morioka Misako. Exclusive Interview with one of Japan's Top Rising Actresses of the Decade!'

"I can't say I do…?"

"Morioka-san. She's a former co-star of mine. Do you remember, The Vermilion Riddle? That last big thing I made while I was still in Japan? She was the leading actress."

"Ah, now she sounds familiar." Fuutarou leaned over her shoulder, watching her as she flipped through some of the pages. Celebrity gossip, dating scandals, and a plethora of photo shoots, as far as Fuutarou was concerned. Nothing that seemed worth perusing, unless of course, the articles featured Ichika herself. "So? What about her?"

"Morioka-san looks like she's been doing pretty well. A lot better since I last heard about her. See this article here? She's got her own exclusive interviews and everything." Ichika flipped through a few more pages. "Whoa… looks like she's featured in another lead role. It's a drama. Now that I think about it, that was always her forte…"

"I doubt she's better than you though," Fuutarou confidently stated, but to Ichika it may as well have been ignorance.

Ichika laughed. "Oh come on, now you're totally being biased. I'm sure the only films you've seen are the ones I've been in, or the ones that I make you watch."

"Not true." Fuutarou held up a finger. "I've been enjoying more of them in my free time, ever since Takeda gave me the password to some of the streaming sites he's subscribed to. They even have subtitled Western films, though, I still get confused over a few of them."

"Wow, you've really gotten into them now. I'm impressed. But, why Western films?"

"Why else?" Fuutarou placed a hand over her head, briefly ruffling the strands of her short, thin hair. "I mean exactly what I say, Ichika. You're the best actress I know—whether in Japan or in America. It's only fair that I know a thing or two if you're going to keep thinking I'm just being biased."

Ichika gawked at him. How could she not, when the words so shamelessly and foolishly fell out of his mouth, as if it were the easiest thing in the world to say. Fuutarou was no actor—neither novice nor prodigy when it came to disguising his truest feelings. In a way, Ichika wished that he was. Anything to slow down the flushes of red and pink that filled her cheeks when she was the least bit prepared for it.

The pages of the magazine were all that separated her from the face of her lover, held up to mask the stall of her lips and all the words she could not quickly come up with. When even that became a little too embarrassing, Ichika retaliated with one, then two, then three, light flicks of the magazine over Fuutarou's face, nudging him away with a coy shake to her head. "We're in public, you idiot…" she mumbled quietly. "Don't just randomly say things like that…"

Fuutarou returned a smirk. Celebrate the smaller victories, for all the chances he could ever get. They both put the magazine back into its spot on the rack. "Though, that has got me thinking…" Fuutarou leaned over, cupping his hands beside Ichika's ear. "Aren't you… you know, aren't you a little worried about people recognizing you too? We've just been running all over the place without something to disguise you with."

Ichika carelessly waved her hand. "Oh, don't worry about that. Nakano Ichika is pretty much old news in Japan. Well, it's not like I was even that big to begin with. That reminds me; I should send my regards to Oda-san while I'm back."

"Your manager?"

"Former," she corrected. "We're under a temporarily paused contract for the time being. Him and I have stayed in touch since I left, and he's been very… enthusiastic about my return." Ichika nervously laughed. She remembered exactly how their previous conversation went over the phone.

"… I am beyond impressed, Nakano-san!" Oda had called her one evening, following the release of one of her new student films. "To think that our star actress could only have gotten better! Your skills are absolutely phenomenal."

"Your praise flatters me, Oda-san." Ichika replied with a long yawn. She rolled over from one side of her to the other, squinting at the clock on her nightstand. A little past midnight; a little too late to be having this kind of conversation. But for her former manager back in Japan, a phone call a few minutes after five p.m. was as good of a time as any. "I am just doing the best I can."

"You don't understand," Oda continued, "An actress of your talent comes around once in a lifetime! Your acting prowess can only skyrocket now that you can do both Japanese-speaking and English-speaking roles. Even Kiku-chan has starting picking up a few things from your new films."

"I… understand." Again, Ichika yawned. "Oda-san, do you think we can talk about this later? Or maybe through email, because I—"

The exuberant man ignored her. His voice had suddenly grown wary, formed to a nervous stuter.. "N-n-nakano-san.. You haven't been… approached have you?"

"Approached…?"

"Y-you haven't been scouted by any other agencies, have you?!" Oda exclaimed. "Y-you mustn't, alright?! You are our star, Nakano-san! We cannot afford—"

"Oda-san…" Ichika quietly groaned, looking at her digital clock tick another minute further into the evening. "Don't worry. I can assure you that—"

"Because I've been contacted by several firms that have inquired about you and…"

Ichika shook the bothersome memory from her head. "Anyways, enough talk about work!" She reached over, plucking the shopping basket from Fuutarou's hands. She freely swayed as she sauntered over to the cashiers, calling back to Fuutarou, "Let's ring these up and hurry back home. I want to shower."

With their groceries in hand, Fuutarou and Ichika made their way back to the apartment. It was hardly more a couple of minutes away, and Ichika figured they had done enough so that they could just walk the rest of the way. Up a few stairs and past a door that looked like all of its neighbors, they tiredly entered their own special place. A place that reached into a short hallway with their shoes neatly placed beside the wall. A place that harbored a scent Ichika could just never get enough of, stealing away her worries the moment the door shut behind them.

Peering around a corner further down the hallway were a pair of feline eyes, fixed to a tilted head. Just as they always were, whenever Tappi would hear the familiar clicks and turns of the apartment door. The eventual shift to complete indifference from his cat was a greeting Fuutarou had already grown accustomed to, and he playfully scratched Tappi's head as he past. It was comforting. There would be times where the young college boy would wonder how he had ever taken a non-empty home for granted. Now that his place housed two, Fuutarou wanted nothing more than to work his hardest so that these days would eventually encompass the rest of his life.

They took turns. Fuutarou let Ichika have the first round in the shower while he got things organized around the kitchen. The rice had finished cooking, their ingredients had been set, and he had finished gathering the last of their kitchen bowls. Whenever the sounds of his creaking cupboard echoed through the tiny apartment, it served as a cue for Tappi to take his place right atop the refrigerator. Cooking, as it seemed, was something the cat took great pleasure in watching. Adding to his own enjoyment, his gracious owner would occasionally offer small scraps of food during the whole process, so as long as he kept patient.

But what stimulated the senses of what would otherwise be a well-mannered cat were the times when Tappi would heard a familiar and distinct sound. Tappi knew exactly what noises made for the cabinet drawer closest to the wall, the rummage of tools as his owner dug around, and the clamp of a fixed can opener as it sliced around the tin rim of canned tuna. When that happened, Tappi could never watch calmly.

"What's up with him?" Ichika laughed as she stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. The first thing that greeted her the perched cat, poised with his neck stretched out and body leaned over as if he could pounce on Fuutarou at any moment.

"He's just being a brat," Fuutarou said with a roll to his eyes. He looked upward, giving Tappi a scolding glare. "You'll get some later, alright? Behave."

"Does that ever work on him?"

"Who knows?" He shrugged. "Just don't spoil him while I'm not looking. He'll just keep begging for more."

Ichika happily agreed with him, nudging him to the bathroom so that they could get started sooner. Preparation was simple enough. Rolled balls of freshly made rice to package, accompanied with store bought rice seasoning and prepackaged filling. Neither of them would so readily admit it, but Fuutarou and Ichika both knew that they were pretty lousy cooks. A symptom of their younger sisters, who often blessed their bellies with heartwarming meals after long days. In these two years they had spent living mostly alone, their repertoire of kitchen skills and meals were hardly impressive. In fact, some would argue that it was pathetic. At the very least, Fuutarou took solace in the fact that he could follow instructions, and that their breakfast this morning turned out rather well for a first attempt.

But onigiri—that was something they could at least make with confidence. 'Simple was best'—a pithy saying that dictated Futuarou's poor palette for most of his frugal life. Whatever filled his stomach in the cheapest way, regardless of taste. Everything about this meal was simple. The rice was plain; the seasoning was basic; the seaweed practically wrapped itself.

And still, the small scoop of rice he tasted off Ichika's finger was better than anything he had ever tried. "How is it?" Ichika asked. "Enough seasoning? A little more?"

"I think it tastes great," said Fuutarou , wiping his lips. "Once we add in the filling, it'll be perfect."

"Great!" Ichika grinned. She understood why Nino and Miku loved doing this so much. Even if a child could follow this recipe, seeing the face of the person she wanted to feed most left nothing but warmth in her heart. It made her want to keep trying her very best. The rice felt as if every grain glistened as they shaped it in their palm. The seasoning carried the most delectable scent as it scattered into the bowl. The seaweed spoke a pleasant and crisp crunch when it folded between their fingers and tempted a quick taste.

One by one the bundles of rice balled between their palms. It would only be the two of them, so there was not any need to go overboard with the preparation. If anything, the time seemed to go by a little too quickly. Their time cooking together became lost amidst idle conversation. Words of comfort and bliss. Like the moment one of them would be greeted home by the other after a long, wearisome day. Speaking, quipping, ranting, bantering as they carried on—as if today were like any other day.

It was home.

A glimpse into those faraway days, and a memory to hold onto for the long journey left to travel.

Their lunch neatly packed into a woven basket, wrapped within a picnic blanket for two. Cleaning came after. Ichika would be reminded just how fussy of a person her partner could be. What she would normally consider good enough was an atrocity in Fuutarou's eyes, though, it was possible that they both were right and wrong, one way or another. Regardless, they now stood within the sanctity of a spotless kitchen. Every used dish had been scrubbed and placed away. The counter had been wiped to a dimmed shine, same as the floor beneath their feet.

"How are we looking?" said Ichika as she leaned her back against the counter. Since they had already packed everything they would need for the picnic, they decided to just share the small slice of cake they had picked up earlier.

"It's half past one," Fuutarou replied, folding the last of their aprons. "It shouldn't start getting too crowded yet. Not if we leave soon, anyway."

"Where'd Tappi run off to?"

"Probably asleep at his spot under the desk. He likes it there."

"I'll go ahead and get changed then. Here, finish up the rest of it. Say ah…." Ichika held up her fork and Fuutarou took a casual bite. "Oh, hang on a second…"

"Hmm?"

Ichika tapped her cheekbone. "You got a little something there."

"Do I?" He rubbed his cheek but it came off a little too forceful.

"Ah, now look. You've gone and made yourself all dirty again. Right after we showered too." She leaned closer, making sure to keep the bright shades of her blue eyes where Fuutarou could see them. "Did you want me to clean you up…?"

Without waiting for his response, Ichika slowly scooped the whipped cream that smeared his cheek. Her lips left a soft smacking sound as her finger parted from her mouth, letting the tip of her tongue stroke from one corner of her lips to the other. Sweetness and savor. She watched until she was satisfied. She slowed down her suggestive gestured ever so slightly to enjoy every moment. After all, those golden eyes belonged to someone who desired her and she knew it.

Finally, Ichika giggled to herself. "Come on, say something! You should have known by now that was coming, Fuuta—whoa!"

She felt herself suddenly being lifted off her feet. She felt need, passion, and impatience—all at once. Strength that effortlessly found its way underneath her leg, then thighs until Ichika found herself propped against the kitchen counter. As if by instinct, her legs tenderly wrapped around the body that pressed itself in between her, leaving her with nothing left to reach for other than the kitchen wall behind her.

As she took a long, baffled look into those golden eyes, Ichika knew that she had taunted a starved beast a little too far. A tickle and a tease too close, and her confidence and composure had crumbled entirely. Ichika was the one who should have known. She knew exactly where her lover's eyes had strayed the moment she stepped out of the shower, wearing Fuutarou's loosely fitted button-up shirt like a dress. Suppleness of her soaked skin had seeped into the thin cotton, letting the outlines of her black undergarments bleed through.

All she could think about now was the warmth. Heat. Heaves of their tired, impulsive breaths that made for this tiny space between them, narrowed further the more her lover leaned. Whenever he did, Ichika would instinctively tighten her legs around his waist. She would sometimes forget about the underlying strength that had sculpted his muscles. From the ends of his broad shoulders and down the lengths of his arms which her fingernail gingerly traced.

Steady. Firm and ferocious to every part of his dormant lust. And at the same time, his touch was gentle. Delicate in every way the weight of his hand found every way up, around, and over the curves of leg, then thigh, then waist. Slipped behind her was his other hand, placed squarely at her lower back so that she may fall further into him. He held her like she was brittle. Dainty. Like every part of her—from the head that laid upon her thin neck, down to her pointed feet that teetered off the edge of the counter—were made of glass.

But Fuutarou already knew. He knew exactly what kind of look belonged to someone who desired him just as much as he desired her. He knew just how maddening it was for her to become the one at the other's mercy. He knew just where to reach and how tightly he needed to squeeze so that he could force the most sweetest of sounds from his lover, sent straight down the sides of his neck.

And still, Ichika stayed cocky. Even if the bright red fluster of her cheeks sold out every sense of her false bravado, Ichika stayed cocky. Her smile was crooked; her brow was crooked. Her fingers ruffled through the still-dampened strands of his dark hair before tightening to a roughened grasp as she neared the back of his head. She pulled him closer. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?" Ichika quipped between her clenched teeth.

"You know I can't." Fuutarou leaned forward. A slight smile formed on his lips. Perhaps there was still a tiny bit of patience in him after all. Just a tiny bit. "So, I'll going to enjoy every moment I have with you now."

"It's gonna get crowded if we show up too late, you know…"

She asked him that, but Ichika already knew that he did not care.

And right now, neither did she.

Her finger curled towards the part of her lips—her last tease and invitation to finally have his way.

Chapter Text

Brush of wind-plucked blossoms. Petals that harbored the flourished passions of spring, flushed to transient colors of white and pink. Generously, they scattered. Over ponds and through grass, swept into the city streets, and obliviously gathered atop the heads of those who strayed under its branches. Confetti to a springtime revelry. An invitation to be sent far and wide, announced from the highest treetops so that all may hear. After all, subtlety was never its best color.

An invitation that hardly went unanswered among the masses of a sprawling city. They both anticipated things to take a turn in this direction. It was Tokyo. They had spent the past hour basked in the afterglow of their carelessness, and a densely gathered crowd was nothing less than a punishment. A consequence to a foolish mistake that they both, strangely, would not seem to mind repeating over and over again.

For those same reasons, somehow managing to find a spot for just the two of them was something like a blessing. An undeserved miracle. A little space for the four corners of their picnic blanket, and a place to finally rest within the busy afternoon. Fuutarou was never too fond of crowds. Since coming to Tokyo, he had learned to dull the idle noise that surrounded him. He had learned to seize every opportunity as it was presented to him—whether it be squeezed within the smallest gap in a rush hour train, or through the shoppers' melee that gathered in front of the on-sale items at the grocery store. Rules of survival when it came to the big city.

Despite the jaded views of his not-so-new life, Fuutarou could willingly admit that these past two years were a journey well worth the struggles. Within this same spring, another year would soon come to its close. Another chance to gather those misaligned memories and miscellany—to reflect upon the kinds of people that it all belonged to. If the thoughts ended with a pleasant smile on their lips, then surely something, somewhere, was going alright in their lives.

For this very moment, at least, Fuutarou knew that things were just fine the way they were.

"And just what are you spacing out over?" Ichika nudged a finger against his unsuspecting cheek. She was laid down beside him, her head resting peacefully against his lap. In the moments she would sneak a glance upward, the dozing girl would find herself caught in a small trance. She wondered just what quaint thoughts traveled through her lover's mind as he gazed at the cherry blossoms overhead. He seemed meditative. Tranquil. She had always found that part of him quaint. Like the sight of him caught anywhere between the most trivial and the most sentimental of thoughts was every part calming, as it was amusing. For those reasons, Ichika would drop everything just to prod him.

"I thought you were asleep," Fuutarou said, plucking one of the stray cherry blossoms that fell over her pink hair.

"I was for a little." Ichika covered her mouth as she yawned. "Was I out long?"

"Just a couple of minutes. You knocked out right after we finished eating. You know, you really do fall asleep quickly."

Ichika giggled, rolling over so that she may lie on her back. "Guess the jet-lag really does mess me up. I'd almost be getting ready for bed around this time." She glanced at her wristwatch, eyeing the two dials that marked for two homes. It would have been close to ten in the evening back in California.

"That makes sense," said Fuutarou. "So? Did you have a good nap?"

"I did, in fact. Your thighs make for a pretty decent pillow." She poked the underside of his leg a few times. "Looks like all that jogging is starting to pay off. Keep it up and it'll be a lot more firm and muscular."

"Hey," Fuutarou halfheartedly scolded. "No enjoying my thighs."

She reached up, pinching both of his cheeks. "Aw, now how is that fair? You always seem to enjoy mine plenty. I should have my share, too."

"Knock it off." Fuutarou chuckled back. "If you're in the mood for jokes, then that means you're wide awake. Now get up. Before my leg goes numb."

"Yeah, yeah…" Ichika slowly lifted herself upright. Her fingers stroked their way through the rumpled parts of her hair as she took a quick glance over their picnic area. Hanami was crowded as it could ever be on a temperate afternoon—even more so when it came to a city as populous as Tokyo was. "Hey, Fuutarou-kun, do we still have some—"

Interrupting her was a sweet, chocolate taste, brought stealthily to her lips as she was mid-sentence. "Yeah, we still have plenty," Fuutarou said, holding up their box of chocolate mushrooms. "Want me to pour some tea too?"

Ichika muffled her agreement as she carefully chewed. Together, they continued their picnic under the cherry blossoms. There were still plenty of rice balls and snacks to last them the rest of the afternoon, and more than enough conversation to make the time pass quickly. A little too quickly, if either Fuutarou or Ichika could reluctantly admit. As quickly as the young actress had come back to Japan, Ichika knew that the time was brief. Dwelling over it did little more than spoil that little time they could enjoy together. So, Fuutarou and Ichika could only smile. Smile and laugh as they leaned against the other's shoulder, partaking in the slow showers of the cherry blossoms and the springtime sun.

"Wow!" Ichika said as she looked at Fuutarou's phone. "This takes me back. I had a feeling it would look great on her!"

An air of immense—and arguably overblown—pride filled Fuutarou's lungs as puffed out his chest. "Of course, she'd look amazing in Kurobara's uniform. Raiha is just made for it! I mean, just look at her! I don't think you really understand just how cute she can be."

Ichika laughed. "Yes, yes. I'm looking, Fuutarou-kun. It fits her perfectly." She rested her head on his shoulder. On Fuutarou's phone was a full body shot of Raiha dressed in a black sailor's uniform with a white skirt at the bottom. A white tar flap wrapped around the collar, and an off-white ribbon tied underneath. She stood in a calm and mild-mannered pose, holding a peace sign off to her side. Judging by the slightly tired look in her eyes, it seemed as if this was not the last of 'just one more photo' taken by an equally doting father, and a long series of similar pictures sent to Fuutarou's phone further proved that point.

"It's been a while since I've seen Raiha-chan," Ichika continued. "She looks like she's grown a little taller since the last time. Her hair looks like it's gotten longer, too."

"Yeah…" Fuutarou said, leaning with one hand on his cheek. He could not quite remember when, but his little sister now opted to part her bangs to the sides. She still wore a butterfly-shaped bow above her head, though it now held down a modest ponytail. "She's really growing up. It really hasn't felt like it's been that long…"

"Do you think you'll miss seeing her as a little kid?"

"A little, but she'll have to grow up sooner or later." Fuutarou scrolled through some of the pictures. The expressions on Raiha's face ranged from casual laughter, to candidness, to finally declined patience as Raiha stepped away from the camera. The subsequent shots showcased Isanari continuing to pester his daughter, with a few widely grinning selfie shots tossed in. "Those two look like they're doing better than ever," he continued. "Seeing Raiha smile like that… I can't help getting sentimental over it. She's eating well. We can afford a good school for her. I just hope I can keep that smile on her for as long as I can."

"You really are the sweetest, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Any more and you'd almost make me jealous. I'm sure Raiha-chan must feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have a wonderful older brother like you."

"Ha. I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"The greatest." Ichika tightly wrapped her arms around him. Her cheeks lovingly pressed against his—a little too forceful that Fuutarou found himself propping his arms to stop himself from falling over.

"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" Fuutarou said between Ichika's happy giggles.

"What's the matter?" Ichika said. "It looked like your ego could use a few more strokes. What's better than your pretty girlfriend showering you with all her love?"

"Now that sounds more like you." Fuutarou said with a casual roll to his eyes. They both laughed at themselves, and after a short while, Fuutarou stood up. "I'm going to go pick up some of that sakura mochi we passed by earlier. The line is probably shorter now."

"Oh! I almost forgot. Yeah, that sounds like it'll be perfect right now!"

"Will you be fine waiting here a bit?"

"No problems here." Ichika nodded. "Think you can pick up some of those cookies, too? They looked delicious."

"Sure. I'll be right back then." They waved each other off, and soon, Fuutarou merged with the rest of the crowded park. Even if he had said so, a shorter line meant two different things when it came to Tokai and Tokyo. They both knew it would not be the quickest trip, so Ichika took some idle time to enjoy herself. She had kept a book in her bag which she bought from the airport bookstore in Los Angeles, and Ichika could think of no better moment to open the pages.

"Um… excuse us…"

She had only turned a few pages before she glanced up from her book. Faced her way were Two men who looked well into their twenties, possibly early thirties, with a cautiously curious gaze as they looked at her face. A look that Ichika had equally returned. "Um… hello?"

"Sorry to interrupt," the first man said, "but would you happen to be… Nakano Ichika-chan?"

"H-huh?" Ichika flinched a little. In hindsight, it was not impossible for someone to recognize her here. Fuutarou had even cautioned the idea, but Ichika had foolishly insisted that a disguise was hardly needed while they were out. It was not as if she was a major star or anything, and any of her recent works within the country may as well have been old news. The chances were slim. The chances should have been slim.

And that shock of realization had even prevented her from trying to at least lie her way through it. She had four sisters that looked just like. It should have been easy to shrug it off, but the young actress had only thought of saying, "Oh… ha ha. Did you need something from me?"

"I-I knew it!" the first man excitedly said. He seemed to have caught on to his overt enthusiasm as he quickly followed, "I mean—I had a feeling when I saw you, but I just can't believe it's really you!"

"No way, is it really her?!" the second man joined in. "H-hi! The two of us are just… really, really big fans of you, Nakano-chan."

"Oh, is that so?" Ichika asked. "That delights me to hear."

"We both are! You're like one of the best new actresses ever! I can't believe a couple of guys like us can even speak with you right now. It's our luckiest day ever!"

"Ha ha…" Ichika calmly replied, regaining most of her composure. "That flatters me to hear that from you. But really, I'm…"

"Are you officially back in Japan?"

"Agh!" the first fan groaned. "If I had known, I would have brought something for you to sign. I need to remember this day."

"If it's too much to ask, do you think we could bother you for a picture?"

"A picture?" Ichika scratched the back of her neck. "Hmm… well, I don't think now is really a good time…"

The look on the second fan stiffened. It was only now that he noticed the small picnic arrangement for two that Ichika sat down on. "O-oh! That's right; that is so rude of me. This must be your private time, right, Nakano-san? We must be intruding, right, Takao?"

The first fan quickly nodded. "You're right! "

"Thank you so much for being understanding." Ichika smiled as she softly laughed. "Any other time I would love the chance to connect with fans, but like you've said, I'm here as part of my private time." Her palms lay flatly against the other, following the coy tilt of her shoulders as she politely gestured. "But I truly am grateful to you both for supporting me all this time. Thank you so much. I'll make sure to keep doing my very best."

"I knew it…" The second fan clutched his chest, almost looking as if he would fall over at any moment. "Nakano-chan is an angel. She's so nice."

The first fan excitedly called out, "N-Nakano-chan! Sorry, I… I just mean to say that, before we leave you alone, I want you to know that… that I was always loyal to you!"

"Huh…?" Ichika raised a brow.

"I thought it wasn't fair to you at all," he continued. "You know, that whole news stuff about your dating scandal. Remember? There was a lot of speculation that that was the reason why you ended up entering your hiatus."

"Oh… that." She halfheartedly chuckled. "Yes, it has been a while since then. Over a year now."

The first fan nodded again. A little too much that it looked as if he were bowing instead. "Us loyal members of your fan club did everything we could so that the internet wouldn't besmirch your good name. I mean, who cares about some stupid dating scandal, right? You're still amazing, and talented, and beautiful, and wonderful, and cute, and—"

"Way too much there, dude," his friend interrupted.

"But it's truth! The absolute, indisputable truth! Just thinking about all those stupid posers that used to call themselves your 'fans' just gets me so… so… ugh! Someone like you deserves so much better than how you were treated here, Nakano-chan."

"No, I get you. Screw all those haters, man." The second man turned to Ichika. "But, if you're here now, does that mean you're scheduling big comeback to Japan?"

"You're right!" his friend eagerly replied. "We all thought it would be much longer! Oh my god, it's going to be the most amazing thing when that happens."

"It will make headlines! News! We'll spread the word across all of social media!"

Ichika nervously chuckled. At some point earlier in the conversation, Ichika could have sworn that they were already wrapping things up here, but it looked as if it would not be that easy. There would always be a delicate line to walk when it came to a celebrity's public and private life, and an actress should be mindful of both when interacting with fans. These two were not exactly harmful in any sense—if anything, they looked as if they meant well for her—but truthfully, this much attention was a little overwhelming. Stressful. Like she had to make sure a part of her was always on guard at all times.

"Hey," a voice interrupted them. "If you two are done here, I'd like to ask you to leave Nakano-san alone while she is on vacation."

Stood behind them with a deathly glare him in his eyes was Fuutarou. His arms were crossed boldly over his chest, dangling a small paper bag of sakura mochi and cookies between his fingers.

"We weren't…" one of them began, but had since taken the time to look Fuutarou up and down. "Um, wait, who are you? Nakano-chan, do you kno—"

"You've bothered her enough," Fuutarou interrupted, not letting their gaze stray back to Ichika. "Do I need to repeat myself? Nakano Ichika is here on vacation and you are interrupting her. I am kindly asking you to leave. For Nakano-san's peace."

The man looked as if he wanted to clarify. To ask questions or refute something, but it all fell to a stutter as the look in Fuutarou's eyes narrowed. His tone was callous; his words brought out like he threw a punch. "W-we weren't trying to be rude or anything. We just wanted to…"

His friend interrupted him. "Takao, he's right. We've taken enough of their time. Let's just go."

"I just—" He sighed. "You're right. Sorry to be a bother, Nakano-chan."

Ichika politely waved to them. "It's alright. Thank you again for your kind words, both of you."

A brief glimmer shone in their eyes. From the way their lips curled to a wide smile, it looked as if they were about to devolve again into another cycle of bits and babbles, but the sharpened gaze of a protective boyfriend brought all those thoughts to a halt. With the satisfaction they could gather, the two men bowed and took their leave.

With a heavy sigh, Fuutarou laid back down on the blanket. "Was I a bit much there?"

Ichika giggled. "No, I think you were fine. If anything, you were pretty manly back there. Have I ever told you how hot that side of you can be?"

"Very funny."

"I'm not trying to make a joke, though. You really had my heart going there for a second."

"I'll take the compliment, then. Thank you very much." Fuutarou offered her one of the wrapped sakura mochi. "We're in luck. They were almost sold out by the time I reached the front. Here."

"They look delicious! Thank you, Fuutarou-kun." They both helped themselves. It almost looked too pretty for them to eat, but the faint, earthly sweetness that stemmed from the pink-dyed rice tempted them both to take their first bite. "I do feel a little bad, though," Ichika continued between bites. "For both of you, I mean. They seemed like nice boys, and I had to rely on you to turn them away."

"Well," said Fuutarou, "I guess a certain actress isn't as so 'old news' in Japan as she thought, huh? Your 'most loyal of fans' seems to agree quite well."

"Stop that," mumbled Ichika. "It's embarrassing when you say it like that. But… I was just shocked to hear that there are still some people waiting for me to debut here again. I guess a small part of me thought they'd stop caring after this first year."

"Of course, people are waiting for you. We all are." Fuutarou turned to her, smiling gently. "Especially me."

Ichika blushed, forcing her way through with a blithe laugh. "I'm the luckiest girl in the whole world to have you as my number one fan, Fuutarou-kun. I'm just glad that those two from earlier were so understanding. I ended up panicking and not knowing what to say…"

"I get it. It wouldn't look so good on you if you had to be impolite with your fans in public, wouldn't it? They might get the wrong idea about you as a person. Must be tough. Luckily, I don't have that kind of problem." Fuutarou took a careless bite.

"Guess that's one of the perks of a having a grouchy boyfriend." Ichika laughed, bumping shoulders with Fuutarou. "Who knew your mean-looking face would come in handy at times like this? You're like my own personal, handsome bodyguard." Her fingertip slowly traced the edge of Fuutarou's jawline, nudging along his face so that he could keep his eyes on her.

Fuutarou muffled a cough, rambling the first thoughts that came to his head. "In that case, we'll need to have a discussion on my salary and compensation. I don't know how easy it's going to be for me when you start making it big in the industry. It's only a matter of time."

"Well… I can give you a little something now. Consider it an'early payment' for always being so good to me." Ichika leaned over and placed a soft, warm, and gentle kiss on Fuutarou's cheek. Her lips stuck onto him for a little longer than usual—enough so that a pleasant smack rang just near his ears as her lips pulled away. "How is that, hmm?"

"We're in public, Ichika…" Fuutarou muttered, covering the spot on his cheek that quickly grew warm the longer he stared into his joyful lover's face and the wide smirk that lined her lips. "But… I could get used to more of that."

Minutes trickled into a few hours longer. A few shades dimmer from the brightest springtide day, and like the brevity of the cherry blossoms, this day would eventually come to its end. Little by little, the peaceful bodies trickled. Families, friends, lovers. Before long, Fuutarou and Ichika found themselves swept along with those that left the park. As short as the time had seemed, the only feelings that lingered between them were those of calmness. Repose. A lift to their spirits that made their steps livelier and their bodies lighter as they went with the wind.

"Here's to another year," Fuutarou said as he strolled beside Ichika.

"Let's keep doing our very best," replied Ichika. They continued along the path, down to where the crowd thinned to a few faces. Going back home the way they came was simple enough. They would only need a moment to rest and think of the way back to the station. The nearby directory would have been the best place to start, but as they leaned gathered a little closer to read it, Fuutarou had turned a curious glance to his side, and the dark-haired girl that had been standing there.

"Takebayashi…?"

"Whoa, Fuutarou?"

The dark-haired girl tilted her back a little. Her widened blue eyes glanced up and down towards him, before she finally settled to light laughter. "It is you. Fancy running into you. Here for the flower viewing like everyone else too, I am assuming?"

Fuutarou nodded. "Yeah, we were just leaving. You were here too?"

"Of course! I live close by, and a lot of students from our university come are—" Takebayashi stopped herself, perking her eyes and ears over a more interesting thought. "Oh hold on, did you say 'we'? Does that mean you're here with…" She glanced a little further behind Fuutarou, noticing the pink-haired girl that was patiently standing there. "Ah! You must be Fuutarou's girlfriend. Nakano-san, right? Wow, you're even prettier in person."

"Hello." Ichika gave a friendly wave. "And thank you! You must be Takebayashi-san—Fuutarou-kun's classmate, right? It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise. I've heard lots about you. Never thought I'd get the chance to meet the girl Fuutarou here keeps gushing on and on about." Takebayashi looked up at Fuutarou, grinning widely. A look that Fuutarou knew well enough, and all the troubles that it invite—but he had neither the words nor the quickness to stop her before Takebayashi continued, "Like seriously, this guy will not shut up about you!"

Fuutarou glared at her. "Hey, Takeba—"

"Is that so?" Ichika turned her attention to her partner, leaning her body against him. "Then, I hope they're all good things. After all, Fuutarou-kun seems to speak very highly of you as well, Takebayashi-san."

"What?" Takebayashi laughed. "No way. Fuutarou? Saying nice things about other people? And about me, of all people?"

"It's true." Ichika laughed. "You two are old friends, right? And now you're classmates against in college. Thanks for looking after him for me."

"You two are getting along pretty quickly…" Fuutarou muttered, but it was far too quiet to be heard from their shared laughter.

"Oh yeah. Him and I go way back. Elementary and middle school. I was kind of his big sister growing up, because let me tell you, this guy was a real headache. Fuutarou was always getting himself into trouble, and I had to be the one to scold him every time. He would skip out on lessons, ignore all of my tutoring, and overall just drive me crazy. There were so many times where I had to hunt him down so that he wouldn't flunk out. A genuine piece of work, this guy."

Ichika nudged Fuutarou by his rib. "Sounds a little familiar, don't you think, Fuutarou-kun? Doesn't it make you feel nostalgic?"

"You act as if you and your sisters don't still give me headaches," Fuutarou replied flatly. "And Takebayashi likes to exaggerate things all the time. Especially if it means messing with me."

Takebayashi shook her head. "Nope. Not this time. You used to loathe all of those tutoring sessions, remember? Imagine how surprised I was when I found out that you had become a tutor yourself. Patience wasn't exactly your strongest thing, you know."

"You're talking about stuff from a long time ago." Fuutarou rolled his eyes.

"Was he really that bad?" Ichika stepped closer. As if the two of them were suddenly old friends, Takebayashi and Ichika conversed as if they had many years to catch up on. "Now you've gotten me even more curious. I can't imagine Fuutarou-kun as the bad boy type. The Fuutarou-kun I know has always been so diligent."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Takebayashi giggled. "I guess old habits really do die hard for a delinquent. Even when he started taking his studies seriously, Fuutarou kept acting like a brat. He used to get pretty heated whenever we had tests. He would challenge me to see who got the highest score, and he would throw this little fit whenever he lost—which was all the time, by the way. One time, in eighth grade…"

"Would two just…" Fuutarou bounced his gaze between both of them. These two clicked together a little too well, and it felt as if he had to double down on his defenses just seeing them standing next to each other. Like two halves of a mischievous mirror, they were of equal forces. One that delighted in all of the things that made him struggle, and the other who reveled in the idea of a little brother whose buttons were simply irresistible to push. And as soon as their impish eyes found their way to his, Fuutarou could only hold in his breath.

"We're just teasing, Fuutarou-kun," said Ichika as she playfully nudged his shoulder.

'Yeah, who do you take me for?" Takebayashi laughed. "Do you think I'd go and tell your pretty girlfriend aboutall the super embarrassing stories about you when we were younger? Or that I just might happen to have some middle school photos saved somewhere on my phone that I was just about to pull out?"

"You're a riot, Takebayashi," Fuutarou said with a roll to his eyes. He turned back to Takebayashi. "Moving back on topic. What brings you here, Takebayashi?"

"Me? For the flower viewing, why else?"

"Yeah, but by yourself?" Fuutarou callously asked. "Or are you here with anyone?"

To his surprise, Fuutarou saw Takebayashi quickly turn her head, as if she had suddenly remembered something. Something like a forced cough, as if she needed a moment to think over a simple question. "A-anyone?" she stuttered. "What are you assuming, Fuutarou? Do I have to be here with someone just to enjoy Hanami? Even if I was, that's… that's private, you know?"

Fuutarou raised his brow. "I mean, I guess you don't have to be here with anyone. I just thought you'd be here with a couple of friends or family or something."

"Oh. Oh…" Takebayashi stretched the sound, until she fell to a hesitant chuckle, looking peculiarly relieved over his last statement. "I see. That's what you meant. Ha ha…"

"So… are you?"

"Er… well… you see, I was um…"

A man's voice had approached them from the side. "Ena! Sorry for the wait. I had some trouble finding the…" He slowed as he approached, glancing at the the three people by the park directory. He wore a white and brown flannel long sleeve, unbuttoned to show the black crew neck shirt that fit his slim frame. He had dark, shaggy hair that poked through underneath his slouch beanie. A brief shine filled the lens of his glasses as he adjusted them, revealing curious, hazel colored eyes. "Oh," he said. "Is everything alright here?"

"Ena..?" Fuutarou glanced behind him. Was he standing in the way of someone else? It almost looked like the man was speaking directly to them, but—

Fuutarou's gaze met Takebayashi, who had a slightly crooked grin, with a slightly rosy tiny to her cheeks as she realized that the two men were looking her way. She casually brushed her long, dark hair aside, if only to distract herself for a moment. "S-Sanada-kun!" Takebayashi blurted out, a tad louder than she had intended. "There you are! I was wondering where you disappeared to."

Fuutarou turned to the man with glasses. He muttered to himself, "Wait… Sanada? As in…"

"Yeah, sorry about that." Sanada strolled over. "I followed the wrong path for a bit. Are these two friends of yours?" As he neared, he took a more careful look at Ichika, then to Fuutarou, stalling a bit as he made the details of his face. There was something distinct about Fuutarou's expression—something about the way he crooked his brow and tilted his head—that made him, for some reason, picture a young delinquent whose blonde hair was styled in an unruly manner. "You… seem a little familiar…"

Takebayashi laughed, gesturing towards Fuutarou. "Actually, you already know him. That's Uesusgi Fuutarou. From middle school. And this is his girlfriend, Nakano Ichika-san."

"Wait, really? Uesugi-san?!" Sanada's eyes widened. With a bit more of a confident step, the glasses-wearing boy approached him. "I almost didn't recognize you! You look way different from what I remember. Didn't you have your hair all—"

"You don't have to remind me." Fuutarou quickly waved. "But wow, this takes me back. You… look a lot like how I remembered, actually. You go to school in Kyoto, right? What brings you here."

"I get that a lot from people." Sanada laughed. "Ena—er… I mean, Takebayashi-san—was telling me that the two of you were classmates again. She even told me that you were dating —" As if a second part of his brain was slower to keep up with all the things that had been said over the past few minutes, Sanada stopped himself. His eyes turned to the woman who politely observed beside Fuutarou. He caught himself before he loudly blurted her name. "You're Nakano—!"

Ichika startled a little at the sudden excitement of his tone. "Oh! Hello, it's nice to meet you. You're… another one of Fuutarou-kun's friends?"

"I-I-I… y-yes! If I could say that, I mean. We weren't like best friends or anything, but Uesugi-san and I were good classmates—not like we weren't good friends! Sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I? Let me start over. I just want to say that—"

"He's a fan." Takebayashi said with a halfhearted sigh.

"Really?" Fuutarou and Ichika said in unison. They looked at Sanada, who looked as if he tried to hold back the biggest smile on his face through tightly clasped lips.

Sanada scratched the back of his head. "I… dabble in a bit of your films here and there…"

"Oh, so now you want to be modest about it." Takebayashi pouted. "Are you forgetting that you made me rewatch all the films Fuutarou recommended to me? You have like all of her movies."

"I do not! I just have a couple."

"It sure seems like you do. Just admit that you're a huge fanboy already. It'll be a big relief for me."

"I wouldn't say that I'm exactly a full on 'fanboy' or anything like that—wait, Ena, what do you mean by—"

Takebayashi quickly put a finger over his lips. "Don't just casually call me that right now!"

"What? You mean Ena—"

"Don't!"

"Wait, why? I thought you said it was okay to—"

"Yes, but not right now! It's embarrassing…"

Sanada gave her a perplexed look, wondering why Takebayashi was speaking in a bit of a hushed tone. There was an odd shift in gaze as she looked between him and the idle couple beside them, tinting her cheeks with another rosy tint. It took Sanada a little longer than he would care to admit, but he finally asked her, "You haven't told him yet?"

After a short pause, Takebayashi finally gave in. "I've been meaning to, it just never came up naturally. We were busy with exams for the past few weeks, and… you know, we're not really…"

"Umm…" Fuutarou gestured towards the two of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but uh… Sanada-san, Takebayashi, are you two going out or something?"

His words were like being put to a stop by a hard wall, as the two of them flinched where they stood. "Ha ha…" Takebayashi nervously laughed. "That's… awfully blunt of you to ask, Fuutarou."

"Is it? I always thought it was obvious, considering how close you've always been. What do you think, Ichika?"

Ichika gave a playful laugh. "I was just thinking the same thing you were. They look good together; they even argue like a couple."

"We're not arguing," both Sanada and Takebayashi said, quickly stopping themselves when they realized they had said it together. Again, Takebayashi fidgeted with the length of her hair—a sight Fuutarou could hardly remember ever seeing, as Takebayashi's gaze turned bashful, shifting everywhere else but towards them. "To be honest…" she said, "it's a bit awkward to talk about this right now… Sanada-kun and I aren't exactly…"

Sanada looked her way, giving her a troubled sort of look. She returned her own gaze, as if silently communicating, 'we will talk about this later.'

Ichika took careful notice of the way they looked at each other. Clearly, there was something the two of them needed to hash out, and even if Fuutarou was an old friend that they wished to catch up with, it seemed as if right now, they were the ones who were a little out of place. "Well," Ichika said in a lighthearted tone. She gave Fuutarou a quick wink as she took him by the arm. "We wouldn't want to pry, right, Fuutarou-kun?"

Fuutarou shrugged. "It's their business. We've stayed for a while now, so it's probably best if we made our way back. Ichika has to be at the airport later tonight." He politely nodded to Takebayashi and Sanada. "It's been nice catching up with you guys again. I'll be seeing you next semester, Takebayashi."

"Ah ha…" Takebayashi said, sounding a little relieved to hear that from them. "Thanks for being understanding. Sorry again if we made things a little awkward."

"It's hardly a problem." Fuutarou said. They began to part ways, slowly stepping back into the flow of the crowd leaving the park. "Take care now, you two."

"It was nice meeting you," said Ichika, as she waved back.

Takebayashi smiled. She watched how closely the two of them strolled beside each other—how perfectly they seemed to complement each other in the smallest gestures. It was like Fuutarou had said—or rather, how he boasted. He and Ichika were partners—each other's significant other that knew the truest colors of the other's heart, with and without spoken words. They looked joyous. Comfortable. Like there was hardly a troublesome day as long as they were with each other. And maybe—somewhere not as deep down as Takebayashi would think—she envied that. Her hands drew high over her head as she began to wave. "Bye bye, Fuutarou, Nakano-sa—"

A bold footstep had marched ahead of her. His hesitant voice loudly called out, "Uesugi-san! Wait!"

They all glanced towards him. Stood squarely along the path was Sanada, arms reached out as if trying to grab a hold of something within the airspace in front of him. They were hardly more than a few steps away from each other, but there was something about them that seemed so far out of reach.

Fuutarou gave an odd look. "Sanada-san? What's up?"

For a while, Sanada did not answer. His glasses slipped a short distance passed his nose, but it hardly seemed as if he noticed. Or rather, there were more pressing matters that muddled his mind, drawn together with the sharp breath he took. He pinched the cuffs of his flannel. He boldly asked the two of them, "Uesugi-san, Nakano-san, isn't… isn't it difficult?"

"Difficult? What is?"

Sanada quickly shook his head. His nerves drew the first few sounds to a stutter, but he could hardly stand to hesitate a moment longer. "I-I know the two of us didn't really talk that much before, and it must be super awkward to ask you something like this out of nowhere, but… isn't it difficult for the two of you? Being so far apart from each other?"

"H-hey… Sanada-kun…" Takebayashi stood beside him, placing one hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't be prying into private things like that…"

"I want to know," Sanada said. He looked at Fuutarou and Ichika, placing one hand on his chest. "How can you two make things work, when you're so far away from each other? Isn't it hard?"

"You're asking about long-distance relationships?" Ichika asked.

Sanada nodded. "Compared to you two, the distance between Tokyo and Kyoto is so much smaller. But when I think about it, I just don't know how it would all work. You two look like look you have it all figured out, and I want to understand it too."

"Tokyo and Kyoto…" Fuutarou repeated the words. He remembered that these two had chosen to attend different universities after having spent most of their adolescent years together. He had always thought of Takebayashi and Sanada to be one in the same. Inseparable. Perfectly made for one another, and the more he thought about it, the more surreal it looked that the two people in front of him stood like they were strangers to one another. Like two people that, at some odd point, had slowly drifted apart, held together by thinnest threads of nostalgia.

One look at Takebayashi's face was enough for Fuutarou to tell. A look to remind Fuutarou that she was just like them—that she could be just as confused and uncertain over the things he had thought to be long past him and Ichika. "You've said too much already, Sanada-kun," Takebayashi muttered, trying to pull him aside. "Let's just leave them alone, okay? It's embarrassing…"

"But…"

"Who says that we have it all figured out?" Ichika said. She gently leaned her head against Fuutarou's shoulder, lacing her fingers between his as she recalled this past year they had spent apart. "Who says that every day isn't the hardest when I'm away from Fuutarou-kun? You're right, Sanada-kun. It is difficult. And sometimes, the days only get harder. It's not for everyone, and I don't think anyone is really to blame, either. It really is just difficult."

"Then," Sanada continued, "how could someone learn to do better? How can I—I mean, how can someone want to make things work, but still can't shake the feeling that they're holding the other person back? Especially when they're so smart, and pretty, and so well-put-together that any guy would be happy to fall for her."

"He's not very subtle about this, is he?" Fuutarou whispered to Ichika, whom had to fight an inappropriate giggle as he asked.

"Oh, uh, what was that?" Sanada asked. "I didn't quite hear that."

"I, uh… I was asking…" Fuutarou cleared his throat. He noticed how silently Takebayashi had turned her away from the conversation, yet her ears carefully listened to every word. "I was asking, does it seem like the 'other person' wants to make things work, too?"

Sanada stiffly nodded. "Y-yes! They would, actually. It's just that—one of them might be… a bit unsure of things. He might be a coward; he might think that he's not worth giving up so much of her time over. The two of them—" He quickly waved his hands. "H-h-hypothetically, I of course—the two of them only realized they wanted to be with each other before they went their separate ways."

"In that case, I'd feel sorry for the 'other person', here." Ichika placed a hand on her cheek, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh. "She must really think this guy is someone special if she's willing to go through that much for him. It's a shame that he can't quite see it. Do you think that 'other person' would make that decision without thinking that through herself?"

Takebayashi turned a careful eye towards the back of Sanada's head, saying nothing.

"If you ask me," Fuutarou added. "I'd say 'this guy' thinks that he's holding back the wrong person."

"What do you mean?" Sanada asked. "I mean, hypothe—"

"Yeah, yeah. 'Hypothetically'." Fuutarou massaging his neck. "I think he's holding himself back. He has someone who thinks that he's special, and if he was as smart as I think he is, then he should know that you don't find someone that special to you just anywhere. If he doesn't hurry and make up his mind soon, then he really will lose her one day. It will all be for nothing. And he can't even say, 'at least I tried.'" Fuutarou calmly shook his head. "And if that were the case, I think I would feel sorry for that 'other person' too."

Sanada stood quietly. The slight tilt of his glasses made it a little difficult for them to tell exactly what kind of face he was making right then and there, but that silence alone told them well enough. It was as if their words were louder than the din of the hundreds of distant voices that surrounded the park as the Hanami attendees continued to dwindle. He played those words over and over, picking apart the bits that always sounded familiar to him. Deep down, Sanada already knew. He knew that he was the only thing in his way when it came to being a better partner for the one who always stood by his side.

"I… I see." Sanada blissfully chuckled to himself. A rosy flush filled his cheeks as he finally adjusted his glasses. His hands continued to fidget with any aspect he found to be improper, from the mess of his curly hair and the droop of his beanie. "I think… the person who needed to hear that most would have wanted to thank you both. I'm sure he would. And I'm sure there are countless apologies that he'd want to say, too."

"Well, 'that person', is only human." Ichika said with a pleasant smile. "I'm sure there are other, more important things that he should be focusing on right now." She casually slipped her gaze to the quietest person in the conversation, whose long, dark hair tucked behind her ears that now glowed in a bright red.

"W-why is everyone looking at me?" Takebayashi stuttered. Her knuckles pressed tightly above her chin as she looked from left to right and back again, before finally ending to Sanada. "Are you finally done asking stuff for your friend or something? Gosh, you really like to blabber on and on. Now, don't you think you've taken enough of their time?"

"Oh! Right!" Sanada quickly resorted to a couple of quickened bows. "Sorry! I'll leave you two be! Uesugi-san, it's been great catching up with you. And Nakano-san, I will be praying for your success!"

"Oh, but Sanada-kun." Ichika smiled. "Tell that your 'friend' of yours that I wish him the best of luck. I'll be rooting for him."

"Same with me," Fuutarou added. "We both wish them well. I'm sure they're perfect for each other. After all, they both seem pretty awkward."

Takebayashi faced his way with a slight grit behind her grin, but for once, the dark-haired girl could hardly find the right words to a rebuttal. And Takebayashi had indeed tried her absolute hardest. Instead, she tightly grabbed Sanada by his wrist, pulling him along the opposite path. "Alright," she loudly declared, "for real this time. We are going!"

"Wh-whoa! Ena, where are we going? The station is tha—"

"Quiet, Kou-kun! We are leaving!" Takebayashi turned back. "I'll see you next semester, Fuutarou! Bye!"

A wayfarers convergence. An industrial heart to serve a hundred journeys, followed by hundreds more. Compared to the place where they had their first farewell, Tokyo International Airport stood as a grand mecca for all tourists and travelers across the country. Another moment to humble the lonely soul, reminding them just how small they stood in this wide world they shared. In the distance and all around were murmurs. Noise. Sometimes brought to a bothersome din; sometimes settled to a trifle among the everyday backdrop. Here, they were only another piece to that setting—that scenery to someone else's senses. Two simple souls set for a second farewell.

It always felt different within an airport. The air tasted different; the noise struck as otherworldly. Even the wheels of Ichika's luggage felt like they made a different sound as they rolled it along the wide floor. Their curious gazes took the place of where idle conversation could not amongst the heavy noise and busy bodies. After all, it was their first time in Japan's largest airport. And there was always one person between the two of them that stressed every last detail.

"You sure you got everything ready?" Fuutarou asked as they stood outside the luggage check. "Everything you'd absolutely need in your carry-on? Your phone, phone charger, and plane tickets?"

"All accounted," Ichika replied, patting her bag. "I'm getting the hang of this traveling thing, so rest assured, I have everything taken care of."

"And you're sure you're all checked in, right? No mix-ups with any connected flights or layovers? The last thing you'd want is to be stuck in an airport and have to miss your flight."

"Yes and yes, Fuutarou-kun."

"Just in case though, you should install some translator apps. You have a stop in Taiwan, right? Let me see if there are any good ones online. Hopefully, it's free…"

"Come on, you're worrying a little too much here." Ichika said with a sigh. "I'll be fine. I got back here just fine, right? Have some more faith in me."

Fuutarou shrugged. "It doesn't hurt to be prepared. I read somewhere that mishaps occur all the time, and it becomes a nightmare to get things sorted while you're traveling. All I'm saying is that you'll never know for sure." He looked to Ichika who leaned on one of her hips, responding with nothing but an elevated brow. After a short sigh, Fuutarou continued. "Okay, and maybe I'm a little worried."

"That's more like you." Ichika giggled. "I promise I'll be safe. I'll text you the moment I board and the moment I land, though, it might be late for you when I do."

"I'll stay up and wait then."

"You really don't have to do that, Fuutarou-kun. I'll probably be landing back in California around…" Ichika lifted her watch, but before she could finish making out two dials that showed both time zones, her attention was brought to the buzzing sound in her pocket. Her phone. "Hm? Oh, let me check that. It could be… oh yeah, it's her. She says she's right outside our gate and is looking for us. Gimme a sec, I'll text her. 'We are at…'"

A boisterous and somewhat hoarse voice interrupted her. "No need! Found ya!"

Approaching them was a tall woman dressed in dark clothes. She wore a thin leather motorcycle jacket over a gray tank top, along with black faux leather leggings that seemed to dimly shine with every step of her lace-up boots. Over her eyes she wore large, rounded sunglasses—which Fuutarou had quietly questioned to himself, as it was obviously evening. Rolling at her sides were two full-sized luggages.

"Sorry I'm late, girl!" the woman said, flicking her long, dark hair in a showy flourish. "Went to the wrong gate and some dude there kept trying to talk to me. Dumbass tourists, I swear. Think they can do whatever the hell they want. Must have been American or something."

"Erika…" Ichika laughed. "You're American too."

"Yeah, and we're all terrible." Erika cracked her neck, letting out a long, tired groan. "Ah! It's been ages since I've been back in Japan. We haven't even left and I'm already missing it. So long, Tokyo; farewell, my rising sun! Wait for me—for I shall surely return." She blew a kiss into the open air.

"Well, it looks like you've been enjoying yourself. What's the extra luggage for?"

"Ugh. Souvenirs and stuff. My family would not stop bugging me about picking up this and that while I was here." She lightly kicked the bottom of one of the luggages, enough so that its wheels landed with a dense, weighty thud on the floor. "This had better not be overweight or so help me. Spent all morning trying to stuff it all in, and if I have to start picking things out…"

"If that happens, then you can move some of it into mine," Ichika reassured. "Fuutarou-kun helped me pack, and I have some extra room in my luggage. Oh! I almost forgot to introduce you two. Erika, this is my boyfriend, Uesugi Fuutarou-kun. Fuutarou-kun, this is my friend, Sasaki Erika."

Fuutarou politely bowed. "Hello, Sasaki-san. Thank you so much for accompanying Ichika. And I'm really grateful for you helping her out while she is overseas."

"Oh, just Erika is fine," said the dark-haired woman as she strolled over to him. Her hands clasped Fuutarou's, offering one of the firmest, vigorous handshakes Fuutarou had ever felt crunched between his knuckles. "And it's no problem at all. Nice to finally meet you, Fuutarou-san." She pinched the hinge of her sunglasses, dragging them a short distance towards her nose. Her hazel eyes scanned up and down, all the while pursing her lips and slowly nodding her head. "Mmm… hmm… yeah, not bad!" she said with a grin, pulling her sunglasses back up. "You're quite a looker, Fuutarou, my guy. Looks like Ichika got her hands on a stud."

For a while, Fuutarou could only stand with a slight rear to his head, unsure of where he could begin with his words. Ichika had spoken about her senior actress from time to time, so he should have at least anticipated the sheer force of her personality, and how assertively she spoke to people. They even stood at the same height. "Th-thanks," Fuutarou finally managed to say with a stiffened smile. "That's… a first for me. "

"Go easy on him, Erika." Ichika laughed. "He's had a busy day today. The whole weekend, in fact."

"Heh. I'm just saying what I'm feeling. You two look cute together. Now…" She shot up the handles of her two luggages again. "Wish I could talk more and get to know you a little more, Fuutarou, but I gotta get all this junk checked in before we're late for our flight. I'll just leave you two alone before we gotta start heading through the gate, alright? Take your time."

As quickly as she came, Erika had taken her leave. Her stuffed luggages teetered and bumped into one another as she paraded through the airport.

"She's… quite a character," Fuutarou said.

"She is," Ichika agreed. "But she's a really nice girl. I'm happy that she offered to travel with me on such short notice, though… a part of me thinks she just needed a vacation. She is a free spirit, after all."

"Not a bad thing, I suppose. As long as you're in good hands, Ichika."

They solemnly stood in the middle of the pathway. Two lovers met at another crossroad in these unpredictable lives of theirs. Within the vast walls of the airport—within the seeming rove of the hundreds of strangers that stepped around them—this short little pause on their individual journeys would serve as a reminder for all the things that truly mattered. All the tender and daydreaming thoughts alike, gathered within the warmth of the other's hands they so lovingly held.

"Well…" Ichika began. "Looks like we're back here again, huh?"

"Looks like it," Fuutarou agreed.

"It's a little… what's the word I'm looking for… 'anticlimactic', maybe? I haven't even been gone a full year yet and here we are. It feels a little too soon for all of this; like I'm still not ready yet. But at the same time…"

"…it feels like it couldn't come soon enough?" Fuutarou finished.

"Wow, you're really good at these kinds of things." She laughed. "I really do need to be careful around you more often. You know so much of what I'm thinking, it's almost scary."

"You say that like I'm the only one." Fuutarou looked at Ichika. His hands wrapped tighter over his lover's fingertips, as if this little gesture were all he needed to keep her here forever. "I'm sure you know just as well what I am thinking."

"Maybe, maybe. You're always so serious, and at the same time, you keep spacing out over the littlest of things. But, that's what I like about you, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika smiled. A gentle, wistful smile. "If I were to guess, maybe what you're thinking right now is that you're gonna miss the hell out of me."

"Something like that," Fuutarou replied with a smirk. "It hurts to see you go again, Ichika. I wish there was an easier way for the both of us, but I know this is what's best for you and your dream. So… I can only continue to wish you luck."

"Thanks, Fuutarou-kun…" Ichika slowly wrapped her arms around him. "Thanks for putting up with me like this. Thank you for being so patient with me and always thinking about what's best for me. Do you think… it'll be okay if you can wait a little while longer?"

"I'll be okay, Ichika. I will be alright."

"Because remember what I told you, Fuutarou-kun." She wrapped her arms tighter around him. "I will keep counting the days. So much has happened this week and I don't know what else the future has in store. At least… as long as I know that you'll still be here, waiting for me, then I'll be alright." She buried her face in his chest. "Promise me that your arms will be here when I come back? When I truly do come back?"

"I promise, Ichika."

"I really don't deserve you, Fuutarou-kun."

Fuutarou chuckled. "You really don't."

"Looks like someone's ego really has gotten to him." Ichika laughed, pinching her cocky lover by his cheeks. "You're even telling jokes now. I would just love to see that ugly face you'll make when I'm gone through that gate. How much did you cry the first time, hmm?"

"You're imagining things. In fact, I'll bet that you were the one who wouldn't stop crying, Ichika."

"Ha! What kind of third-rate actress do you take your girlfriend for?" She gingerly placed her fingers over her chest, puffing it out proudly. "A star actress isn't someone who so easily breaks her composure. I hope you can hold it until you get home, because you're going to be crying into my pillow tonight."

"And to think you were talking about my ego a few moments ago." They both laughed. Within the warmth of each other's embrace, the two lovers could only laugh and laugh. When everything had been said and done, the world around them had grown a little noisier. A little more lively to remind them of the brevity of these unanticipated days.

In a timely manner, Erika had eventually returned to their little spot before the gates. "All clear and good to go," she said with a thumbs up. "Ready whenever you are, Ichika."

"We're just about done here," Ichika replied. "Right, Fuutarou-kun?"

"Yeah." Fuutarou nodded. He lightly folded his arms over the other. "Take care, alright? Have a safe trip back. Both of you."

"We will." Ichika leaned in and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "I guess saying goodbye is a little easier the second time, huh?"

"Just a little." Fuutarou smiled. "And only a little."

They parted ways outside the security gates. A few more moments where they could make out the details of each other's faces as they made it through the line. Each step to make the visage a little blurrier in the distance, replaced with a hand held high to wave each other off one last time. Another moment longer, and the last of each other's sights would disappear amongst the crowd and distance that made for the airport terminals.

"Hey, Erika. Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm? What's up?"

"Do you think… that I'm a terrible person?"

"Where's that coming from? Of course you're not."

Ichika gave a dry laugh. "I don't know. I feel terrible and guilty about it. To think, I went ahead and told a lie to Fuutarou-kun like that."

"A lie?"

Ichika slowly stepped across the moving walkway. Outside the nearby window, the blackened skies of the evening had painted the space where her eyes could reach. On the other side, farther than the horizon that laid before her, was a place that must have just recently welcomed their morning. Their freshly woken sunshine and the tall palm trees that cast their shadows over the streets. Outside this window were large airplanes that would take her farther away again—this dim reflection of a woman whose eyes and lips could not help but tell lies. She felt the cool touch of the glass at her fingertips as she continued along.

Her hands slowly drew over her mouth, pressing the handkerchief closely so that it may catch the tears the trickled down her cheek.

"It really isn't…" Ichika finally said. "It… really isn't easier to say goodbye a second time."

Erika patted her friend's shoulders. For some reason, she found it appropriate to let out a hearty laugh. Unless it was all in her imagination, the dark-haired girl had caught a glimpse of the man who solemnly stood outside the airport gates, carrying his forlorn gaze until the last moments Ichika disappeared from his sights. Perhaps that was why he thought it was safe to bury his eyes within his hands, when it looked like no one else was watching. If only he were a little more careful, then he would have noticed that Erika was lagging a little behind Ichika, and if Fuutarou really had taken the time to get to know her, then he would have surely known just how nosy of a person Erika could be.

"On second thought…" Erika continued to chuckle. "Maybe you are terrible. Outright despicable—the absolute worst." She hopped over, tightly wrapping one arm around her friend's shoulder. "You two are practically made for each other."

Chapter Text

They said that she was gentle. That there was nothing more precious in this life than a kind heart. As vibrant as rays of golden sunlight, her benevolence and her smile shall too split the clouds and turn the shyest leaves lush. Whenever they thought of her, they told her that her name was like the sun that shined across four seasons. Four seasons to encompass the days of the year, and she shall shine just the same. For as long as she could walk her own two feet, her footsteps had always trailed to the sides of others, ready to be anywhere that she was needed. It was simply her nature.

But most of all, Yotsuba must remember to breathe. There will always be someone somewhere that would need her help; someone whose days grew brighter with her around. But it would all mean nothing if she did not remember to help herself. It was a little embarrassing for her to admit, but Yotsuba had taken a bit of time to learn something so painfully obvious and simple. She was grateful that she did. Now that she stood facing the air of late autumn, the daydreaming girl had slowly allowed for the gentle coldness to fill her lungs. One hand placed over chest and the slowest seconds she could count in her head. One… two… three…

Then finally, breathe. "It's almost time for winter…" Yotsuba muttered, brushing some of the fallen leaves with the tip of her slippers. A slight shiver settled over her skin and she promptly adjusted the collar of her yukata. The breeze had grown colder in these past few days. The old, worn-out fabric that made her attire was poorly suited to handle the colder days, and the age hardly helped at all. Bits of the silk had frayed near the ends of the sleeves; the color had long-since faded. In fact, if Yotsuba could think about the days they had spent at Toraiwa as children, then these would most likely have been the same robes that the inn's visitors wore—perhaps much older than that, even.

Yotsuba leaned against the open doorway, watching the slender tree branches add one more reddish leaf to the autumn litter. Looking back, Yotsuba would have never thought how much work their grandfather truly poured into the inn. In these past months, their grandfather had told her many things. He said that all roads walked upon in this life—from hers, theirs, and the next stranger—were made of different stones and carved in different scars. Just like their mother, a weary soul deserves a brief respite. A moment's rest. He said to her it took someone who was gentle— someone who knew what burdens could weigh a heavy heart to be able to offer solace along their hardships. He said that was what it meant to give hospitality.

There were a lot more things Yotsuba wanted to learn. A plethora of things that she could still learn, if only there was enough time.

Their grandfather passed away on an August afternoon. It all seemed like it was only yesterday when she and her sisters gathered at his beside. Though the elderly man had found the strength to return to Toraiwa, his condition had slowly gotten worse as the seasons changed. Perhaps he had always wanted his final resting place to be within the walls he had always known. The place that offered him the greatest peace. In those short days, their grandfather had instructed Yotsuba on the proper care and etiquette that came with undertaking the mantle of an innkeeper. He taught her how to manage, how to maintain, how to aid those who found their way past their front doors.

Again, Yotsuba sighed. "If only there was more time, Grandpa." Her fingers rested on the thin wooden door frame, feeling the low rattle of the old door. Compared to when the five of them were able to visit altogether, the state of Toraiwa Inn was in a bit of better state. Not exactly in its most pristine or operational condition, but neither was it as dusty and decrepit. It was simply good enough. Good enough to warrant a blissful smile on her grandfather's face as he took his slow, feeble strolls across the cleaned hardwood floor, letting his old eyes settle across the verdant garden. The light scent of flourishing flora teased under his nose.

"Ah…" he said, stopping by one of the flowers in the garden. His old fingers stroked the delicate petals, smiling. "Yotsuba, are these new? Did you plant them here?"

"Oh, I um… I did," she replied. "Er.. what do you think? Does it not fit well? I thought that it would be… you know, p"

"No… no… I think that they are perfect."

Now, as the present-day Yotsuba gingerly pinched the tips of the flower petals, she could not help but fall back on those comforting words. She would need all of it. It was the least Yotsuba could do. It was the only thing she felt confident that she could do. "How were you able to do this all on your own?"

After a lengthy stretch of her muscles, Yotsuba turned and picked up the cleaning supplies beside her. Her mind must have still been caught in a daydream, shaken awake by the sound of a toppled bucket and sudsy water spilling across the floors. "Ah, shoot!" Yotsuba exclaimed. She quickly began to pick up the cleaning tools, moving them aside until all that was left with a soapy puddle. She looked around, mumbling to herself, "Gotta find a towel… gotta find a towel… towel… tow… el…"

Her search brought her behind the reception desk, further where the storage room for customer amenities was located. She scoured past the neatly folded yukatas, pillows, blankets, towels, tissues… "Ah! Towels! Here they ar—"

"Yotsuba?" a voice called out, echoing along the halls. "Yotsubaaa? Are you down he—whoa! W-w-whoa! AHH!"

Yotsuba shot up, just in time to hear the nearby voice let out a shriveled yelp. A low squeak sounded from where their slippers slid along the floor, and Yotsuba could only warn her a little too late as she rounded the desk. "Oh my god! Itsuki, I'm so sorry!" she called out to her sister. "I just spilled water there. The floor is all slippery!"

"I noticed…." Itsuki said with a slight wince. "Ow… ow…"

"Sorry…" Yotsuba gave a halfhearted laugh, reaching over to help up her sister. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Just my… ow… just my butt. I landed pretty hard." When she was back on her feet, Itsuki tugged the length of her yukata, then ran her palms down the backside, feeling the soaked portions of her clothes. The unpleasant scent of dirt and soap seeped into the fabric, and Itsuki grimaced at herself as she stood looked over her body. "I need to go get changed again…"

"Let me get you a change of clothes! Better yet, you should hop into the springs. Wait right here—oh, I should probably put down a wet floor sign too. I wonder where if there's one in the back…"

"Yotsuba, it's just the two of us here." Itsuki placed a hand on her hips, eyeing her bashful. "The only person that would have been useful for is me."

"Heh… good point. By the way, what's that thing you've been holding onto this whole time?"

Itsuki looked down to where she tightly held onto a book, pressed against her chest. She quickly flipped through the pages, going from cover to cover until she breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness. I was worried that it might have been ruined."

"What was?"

"Uesugi-kun's teaching book. The one I'm borrowing from him." Itsuki showed it to her—'The ABCs of Becoming a Good Teacher', as the title read. At a glance, the book showed signs of wear. The corners of the cover and pages were dog-eared, stubbornly curled upward no matter how long it was pressed down. The spine was embedded with a pale, jagged line down the middle that looked like the crack of an old road, undoubtedly from having its pages repeatedly opened and flipped through.

"Were you up late studying again?" Yotsuba asked. "I saw your light on last night."

"I… may have reviewed a few pages before bed."

"Even when your next college term hasn't started yet? You really should be taking this time to rest, Itsuki."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that, whenever I think about my certification exam, I can't help but think there is just so much I can still do."

"But you still have a few years, right?"

"I don't want to get too comfortable," Itsuki retorted. "Two years will go by before I know it. All I know is that, by the time I have to sit down and take the test, the first thing I'll wish is that I had more time. If I have time to spare, then I should spend it studying!"

"You know, you're starting to sound a lot like Uesugi-san," Yotsuba nagged. "And it's my job as your sister to stop you before you turn into a grump like him. Now you must be starving, right? Get changed and we'll have breakfast."

Itsuki crossed her arms, grumbling under her breath, "I suppose you're right. Then, could you hold on to this for me?" She handed Yotsuba the old teaching book. "I'll be back soon. The spare robes are in that room you just came out of, right?"

"Yup! They'll be to your right when you walk in. The adult ones are on the higher shelf; women's kimonos are closer to the door."

"Thanks."

"Are you okay with the usual for breakfast? I think I got grandpa's recipe nailed down this time!"

"Oh, that will be fine. But are you sure you wouldn't want some help? I can bathe quickly and—"

"Nope!" Yotsuba interrupted, waving a quick finger over her sister's nose. "I told you, Itsuki, you are here to help me practice You are my guest. A good host is all in their hospitality, and it all starts with a properly cooked meal. Now, are you going to bathe and get changed, or did you want to eat sitting down with your butt all soaked?"

"Fine, fine…" Itsuki made her to the back room, grabbing a clean set of clothes before making her way back to the springs. Her sister had already dashed off, making quick work of the earlier spill. In the distance, Itsuki could hear the faint rummage of kitchen supplies clashing and clanging against each other until they loudly fumbled onto the floor, accompanied with the clumsy groan of her over-enthused sister. For a moment, Itsuki thought of poking her head in and asking Yotsuba again if she really did need some help, but the fifth sister knew well enough what sort of stubborn answer she would get in return.

"She'll be fine… I hope…" Itsuki shook her head. It would only be for a few days, but during her break between university trimesters, Itsuki figured that a change of pace would be welcoming when it came to studying for her future teaching certification exam. It was still a few years away before she could try for the exam, but it never hurt to get an early start. Besides, she cherished this place These old walls that seemingly shone brighter in these past months; these meticulously scrubbed floors that lowly creaked beneath her feet. Just as their mother had found tranquility within the steam over spring waters, Itsuki had too found all her muddled thoughts slowly distilling as her body sunk into the warm bath. Stray bits of her red hair slipped between the folds of her towel, falling past her brow and slowly beside her cheeks before she would carelessly tuck them back underneath, letting a tiresome sigh deflate her chest.

Relief. The thought would not often cross her mind, but a future without Toraiwa Hot Springs left a painful scar within the walls of her heart. One less piece to prove that their mother and their grandfather once existed in this world. Their grandfather had understandably questioned the idea. The past was just that—the past. The five of them had their own lives to live, just as their mother had, and just as he had. Perhaps a day would come when they would truly have said their goodbyes to this place, be it as the women they were today or the women that they will be in the future, there was no dream worth forfeiting for a legacy.

"Are you sure that is what you want, Yotsuba?" their grandfather had then asked her on that day where they gathered at his hospital bed. "Your mother, your grandmother, and I have already lived our lives. We have already made our peace with Toraiwa. You girls should do whatever it is you want for your own happiness."

"I am sure, Grandpa." Yotsuba had answered. "I've never been more sure of anything else in my life. Please."

"Even then, it might not…" His voice trailed until it would fall silent. One long look was all it took. One look into those blue eyes, bright and brimming as the endless expanse of the sea, yet somehow, void of any space to mask hesitation.

"Please," Yotsuba had repeated. "Please teach me, Grandpa."

In a way, Itsuki felt guilty. Back then and right now, she could not help but feel a little guilty. It made sense why their grandfather was cautious over the idea. Of course, they had no reason to doubt Yotsuba—if anything, they were all thrilled over the idea. And for that reason, Itsuki could not help but wonder—was it simply too much of a burden to place on her? Neither of the five sisters cherished this place any less than the other, but it seemed selfish, in an odd way, to rely on just one sister to watch over Toraiwa while the rest did as they pleased. Itsuki wondered to herself, was it so wrong to feel just a little guilty? Was having another passing day, week, month, year, or years where she could so readily dip her feet into these waters a little too convenient for—

The quickened slide and clap of the slide door snapped her away from her daydreaming, sitting upright with a jolt up her spine.

"Breakfast is ready!" Yotsuba exclaimed, taking bold steps into the women's bath. "Itsuki! I've been calling for you the entire time; haven't you been hearing me?"

"H-huh…?" Itsuki stood upright. "Wait, you were? Sorry, I…"

Yotsuba laughed, handing her sister a towel. "Well, no matter! I got you now, so come on! Get yourself dressed and head over to the dining area. I heard your stomach growling before I even walked in."

"G-g-growling?!" Itsuki wrapped her arms over her belly. "You did not! It wasn't making any kind of sound."

"No, I'm sure I heard it! It made this long, weird, growly noise like this. Ahem. Ggrruuu…"

"Quit it, Yotsuba! You're just making that up—"

They quickly fell silent, overcome with a loud rumbling between Itsuki's wrapped arms that she could only wrap tighter, as if it could muffle the sound. Stiffly, she would stand, rolling her lips between her teeth as her face turned bright red.

"Ah ha…" Yotsuba gave a halfhearted laugh. "Looks like my hunch was— "

"L-look! I'm stepping out, alright?!" Itsuki marched out of the water, hastily wrapping the towel around her chest. "There! Now, just let me get dressed!"

A pleasant, whetting aroma. Pink, piscine flesh, split apart with the effortless glide of her chopsticks, as if the frail, wooden length of it were as sharp as any able chef's knife. Soft, tender. The flesh teetered between a loosened form, ready to collapse from the slightest nudge; and stubborn enough to hold together as it lifted upon a clump of fine rice. If her appetite would allow her the patience, Itsuki would have delighted in the idea of taking the flavors one by one. The pickled side dishes that settled on her tongue, the miso soup that warmed her insides, and the spectacle of everything so eloquently displayed in front of her. That alone was a mark of improvement, and if she had the patience for it, Itsuki would have congratulated her sister.

Instead, her lips would much rather wrap tightly around the ends of her chopsticks, humming a sweet melody of salt and savor that met her tongue. Beside her, Yotsuba sat patiently on her knees, holding onto a serving plate on her lap as she watched her hungry sister go through the dishes she prepared. "You must have really been hungry, Itsuki," said Yotsuba with a giggle.

Itsuki wiped her mouth a napkin. "Sorry. When I woke up, I took a quick glance at some of the sections I read last night. I only meant for it to be a short review, but before I knew it, it was almost past breakfast. Oh, thank you."

Yotsuba finished pouring them tea, sliding one mug over to Itsuki's side of the table. "Okada-san and Fujita-san taught me a couple of things about serving to customers. She helped me with the presentation."

"Okada and Fujita… Ah, Grandpa's former employees, right? Did they stop by again?"

Yotsuba nodded. "This morning when I was cleaning up. They even asked when we'd be ready to open up again, so that they can come back and work here. Ha ha…"

"They're sweet ladies," said Itsuki, sipping her tea. "We owe them a lot for checking up on the place while Grandpa was sick."

"Yeah. They told me that Grandpa was a good boss to them, and that they'd want to come back into hospitality." Yotsuba sighed.

"Something the matter?"

"It's nothing. I'm sure they didn't mean anything harmful by it, but it really feels like I should hurry. I want to nail all this stuff down and do just as good of a job as Grandpa did. Did you know Grandpa was only eighteen when he opened up Toraiwa? That's two whole years younger than us!"

"Yotsuba, you shouldn't feel like you're in a rush," said Itsuki. "Grandpa did things his way, and you—"

"I know I shouldn't rush," Yotsuba quickly added. "It's just a thought I have sometimes. Nothing more."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. More importantly, why don't we have breakfast first? If we keep talking, it'll grow cold. I want to know what you think."

"Oh! You're right." She fixed the chopsticks in her hand, followed by her posture—a habit she had developed from her off-and-on hobby as a food critic. It had been a while since she last visited that persona; college had taken too much of her time these days.

With every sampled dish, Yotsuba leaned ever so slightly towards her. There was a pause to her breath as she watched her sister, wondering exactly what sorts of thoughts ran through the mind of someone judging her cooking. "So…" Yotsuba asked, trailing the ends of her words, "how is it…?"

"Hm…" Itsuki thought for a moment.

"Please be brutally honest with me, Itsuki! If I'm going to be serving this in the future, then it needs to be perfect. I could never get it the way Grandpa did, but I think this is pretty close, right? Be straight with me."

"Honestly? I don't think they taste similar at all. They're completely different in just about… well, if I were to say, everything."

Though she asked for her most blunt and honest opinion, Yotsuba could not help but slump over, landing her back against the tatami floors. "Really…? But I was so confident this time…"

"I-I mean," Itsuki switched her tone upon seeing her sister's defeated expression, "that's not necessarily a bad thing, it's more like… what I mean to say is that it's probably better if…"

"Argh! Okay! Alright!" Yotsuba shot herself back up, clenching her fists. "Next time for sure! I'm gonna get it just right, so I hope you still have an appetite."

Itsuki pinched the ends of Yotsuba's sleeves as she started for the kitchen. "You didn't let me finish, Yotsuba. Now, sit back down. What's gotten into you? Why are you so all-over-the-place? Is something on your mind?"

Yotsuba sighed, resting her elbows on the floor table. She fiddled a little with a spare set of chopsticks, swirling one of the side dishes until it was a sloppy pile. After a while, she spoke, "I knew it wouldn't be easy…"

"Hm?" Itsuki muffled a response from her stuffed mouth, as she already resumed with her meal.

"Taking over Toraiwa, I mean. Grandpa taught me so much before he died, and yet, I feel like I haven't learned a thing. I was never good at cooking. Not one bit. I'm lousy at cleaning to the point I leave messes all over the floor for people slip on." Yotsuba massaged her shoulder, letting out a tired groan. "Really… the only thing I can do decently around here is just physical labor. I'm just too dumb to get a grasp on this kind of thing."

"Now, now. Don't say things like that about yourself like that, Yotsuba. You'll start believing in them at that rate." Itsuki reached over the table, helping herself to some of the pickled vegetables that Yotsuba had tousled earlier.

"You actually like that?" Yotsuba raised a brow.

"I never said I didn't," she replied, happily placing the vegetables in her mouth. "Grandpa liked to add a little more cabbage and ginger, and he sliced the cucumbers a little thinner too. But the way you did it is also pretty good! The thicker cuts adds a lot more texture, and I think you're using more sesame too. I can really taste it better this way."

"Whoa. That… actually was all correct. How did you piece together all of that?" Yotsuba tilted her head. "Itsuki, are you like, some kind of food critic or something?"

"W-w-what?!" Itsuki almost choked on her last few bites. "What makes you say t-that? Of course not!"

"Oh? Well, you'd make a pretty good one, I'm sure." Yotsuba shrugged. "So… you like it?"

Itsuki nodded. "I do. I'm quite enjoying my meal, actually. It doesn't have to be exactly like Grandpa's, you know. If you cook this for visitors, I'd think this would be more than enough. It's exactly what I would want—something that tastes like it came from home."

"Itsuki…"

"Besides," the fifth sister continued, picking up the last bits of the grilled salmon. "Are you forgetting one of the most important things Grandpa said about running the inn?"

"Heh…" Yotsuba dryly chuckled, scratching the back of her head. "He said so many things and they all sounded so important."

"Mom used to say it too. She said Grandpa taught her it. I think it went something like…" She clasped her chopsticks between her lips, humming her thoughts. "'Nature never hurries, and yet everything is accomplished.'"

"Ooh! I think I remember that one. Grandpa used to always say that, because it was like that when it came to people too. He said that people come here when they need to…"

"'… when they need to slow down for a little.'" Itsuki finished, looking towards Yotsuba. "And I think that also applies to you too, Yotsuba."

"For me?"

"Don't you think so?"

For a while, Yotsuba sat quietly. Her fingers found their way to the tea mug she had long since poured for herself, yet had never found the time to savor the first sip. Small traces of warmth still lingered around the ceramic dimples that fit her fingers—not quite as hot as she would have liked it, but better to be enjoyed sooner than later. She had remembered the countless times she had found their grandfather seated just like this, watching the colors of the season dance in their different shades. Sometimes he would not notice her; sometimes he would be sound asleep.

When their grandfather died, he had left all he owned to his granddaughters. Toraiwa Hot Springs was passed on with all five of their names as equal ownership, along with the rest of his savings. He said that it would have been enough to keep the place together for next two to three years—even longer, if they shrunk the seasonal windows the inn stayed open. Himakajima was a small, almost unnoticeable island, with only the allure of the warmer seasons and the tease of a carefree summer to bring visitors to its sandy shores. For those reasons, as well as their grandfather only being able to hire only a few helpers for the short term, Toraiwa Hot Springs had only opened in the late spring to midsummer.

"Slow down, huh…" Yotsuba repeated to herself. "You're saying I should take more time?"

"If that's what you need to do."

"That I don't have to do things exactly the same way Grandpa did it?"

"If that's what you want to do."

"Then…" The ends of her words trailed on, brought to a quiet hum as she remembered everything everyone would always say to her. There were times where it was time to go forward—to make decisions and to take action. And just as often, there would be times where she needed to quietly and gracefully slow down—to stop and ponder the steps she had since taken in this long, tiresome road called life. For Yotsuba, it seemed a little too easy to dwell on the things she did not know. How many more times did she have to be confused before she would realize just how natural it was to not know? After all, that was the first step to learning.

One hand placed over chest and the slowest seconds she could count in her head. One… two… three… then finally, breathe. Somewhere in this wide world of theirs, in this tiny corner of this tiny island, was a place where she was needed. A gentle kind of place. A place for all the weary ones that needed a brief respite and somewhere to rest their head. Every guest shall be honored; every guest as important as the last—even if that guest should be Yotsuba herself. For now, there was only one thing that set her mind at ease, whenever the days had grown a little harder than the last.

"Hey, Itsuki," Yotsuba finally said. "Before we come back, do you think you could do me a favor?"

"Hm? What kind of favor?"

Yotsuba slowly stood, letting out a long, relieved groan as her arms reached high over her head. The light of a late morning spilled into their room, and the thought of some fresh air did nothing but delight her as she made her way to the window, letting the cool autumn breeze blow past their hair. She turned to Itsuki, smiling. "Do you think you could do some shopping with me? I think… I might want to do some more garden work the next time I come back to Toraiwa."

'Dear valued Guest,

Thank you so much for your interest in Toraiwa Inn. As of this time, we will be closed until further notice, due to the recent passing of, Mihara Takeshi, the previous inn 's owner, and our beloved grandfather. For over fifty years, Mihara-san's kindness had brought comfort and tranquility to all those that found their way to our doorstep. We honor his service to his community and wish him a peaceful rest with his late wife, Mihara Setsuko.

For more details concerning the future reopening, you may check our website or follow us at …'

Signed, Nakano Yotsuba, Fourth Eldest Granddaughter. '

Chapter Text

Thin layers of frost settled. A widely spanning window pane, cold underneath, as it met the skin of her fingertips. From this corner of the first floor classroom, a courtyard decorated in the white of a soft snowfall laid out in a plain, wintry view. Like taps of powdered sugar, the snow sat atop the tended hedges, the shut iron gates, and the luxurious tile walkways embedded with trails of winter footprints that lead to the school's doorway. Inside, it was warm. Temperate. A perfectly kept twenty-one-point-five degrees Celsius to strip away mufflers and coats the moment one stepped inside, carrying that warmth until the last hours of the school day.

It felt different. Strange, in one way or another. Even if she had spent the better half of a year tucked between the illustrious walls of this renowned school, Kurobara Girls' High was still a place Raiha had not found herself fully immersed in. This black-and-white uniform that she shared with her fellow classmates—the same uniform that her friends from middle school showered her in praise over—was still something that never felt like it belonged to her. Like she did not truly deserve it. Like the clothes she wore over her skin were sewn by tired hands, poked and prodded until the fingers bled and the skin dried. Compared to her own hand, now placed over the frosted window of her classroom, hers seemed almost delicate. Thin, from palm to fingernail, with only the dull scar of a kitchen knife to separate her from those that carried the faint smell of coin and paper bills mixed with their perfume.

The more she thought about it, the more those actions felt like sacrifice. Selflessness dedicated to her wellbeing as the family's youngest. Of course she felt guilty—it would be seem heartless of her to embellish it as anything else. Admit that one fact, and it shall no longer burden her. Her older brother and her father worked tirelessly to bring her to this school, and it hardly seemed right if she did not bring her best efforts with her, every single day.

Her finger finished tracing over the condensation over the window pane.

"What are you drawing, Uesugi-san?" a voice broke her out of her short daydream.

"Huh?" Raiha glanced beside her. A girl slightly taller than her, with dark brown hair tied to two braids, had peered over shoulder. "Oh, Yano-san. Sorry. I must have been spacing out for a bit there," Raiha said with a short laugh. She ran her hands over her window doodle, then wiped the condensation over her skirt.

"Spacing out, huh?" Yano laughed. "I totally get you. It is Friday, after all. This week really went by slowly."

"Yeah… home room felt like it ran especially long today."

"You felt it too? I thought I was the only one!" Yano sighed. She fiddled with the tips of her pedicured nails, barely swaying the luxury watch that wrapped around her thin wrists. "Well, whatever. At least the weekend is finally here. Oh! By the way, do you have any plans on Saturday? My family just installed a new indoor pool, and they said I could invite some friends over. Ikehara-san and Nishimura-san will be coming too."

"I heard my name!" A girl with long hair that curled to ringlets strolled over, accompanied by another girl with rounded glasses. "What are we talking about, girls?"

"Hey, Ikehara-san! I was just telling Uesugi-san about our little get-together this weekend. Are they two of you still coming?"

"Of course! Though I hope I won't be late." Ikehara said, twirling the curls of her permed hair. "My father says he has a gift for your father. Repayment for his speech at our company's product launch. It's supposed to arrive from Belgium tomorrow morning, and I am not to leave without it. If the parcel isn't delayed, then I should be right on time."

"That's good to hear. And you, Nishimura-san?"

The fourth girl cleaned her glasses with a cloth she drew from a designer case. Her voice was calm, practically refined as she spoke. "I will have to find some new arrangements. My family's driver is currently visiting his family in Kyoto, so he will not be available this weekend."

"Me and my driver can stop by your house," said Ikehara. "It's on the way, anyway."

"If it is not a bother, then that would work perfectly for me. Thank you, Ikehara-san."

Yano grinned. "Yay! I'll let my parents know when to expect you. How about you, Uesugi-san? Will you be available?"

"Ah…" Raiha chuckled. "You see, I'd love to visit. But umm…. Well, I'll be working the whole weekend."

The three girls raised their brow, and Yano spoke up. "Work again? You sure are busy all the time, Uesugi-san."

"Yeah," Ikehara added, still curling the ringlets of her hair around her finger. "You take up a lot of shifts. Is the school really okay with that?"

"Is your workplace ethical?" Nishimura asked. "Students should not allowed to work more than…"

Again, Raiha chuckled. "I know, I know. Don't worry, I'm not skirting around any laws or anything. I don't work any longer than I'm allowed to."

"I still do not quite get it." She fixed her glasses, curiously eyeing the dark-haired girl. "Uesugi-san, you are the best student in our class. Between work and study, how do you find the time?"

Raiha thought for a moment. "Well… you might think I'm crazy or something, but I really love working at my job. It's hard to explain, but I do. I feel a lot better when I get home after my shift, and it helps with studying for the rest of the night."

Yano chuckled. "You're right. I do think you're a little crazy. Just a little." She casually shrugged. "Though, i that's what you want to do. Just do be sure to take care of yourself, Uesugi-san."

"I will, thanks." Raiha picked up her book bag, waving to her classmates. "Sorry I couldn't make it this weekend, Yano-san. I'll try to make room in my schedule for the next get-together."

"Not a problem. I'll make sure to notify you a little earlier next time."

She offered her farewells to her classmates, and with it, Raiha began her weekend. She strolled through the spacious hallways and passed the many embellishments that decorated the walls. Trophies, plaques, awards, photographs—all pronounced in the name of Kurobara's famed name. Ask any student that donned the black and white sailor uniform and they could possibly recite the accolades that made Kurobara the subject of envy. After all, they had heard it endlessly throughout their school days to the point where the individual would feel important just standing there and breathing. In a way, Raiha could not blame the many students she passed beside; 'humbleness' was not exactly a part of their school's curriculum.

If she were truly a bitter person, then perhaps Raiha would find the word 'suffocating' appropriate when describing the idle chatter that surrounded her. Weekend plans of lavish expenditure, rife with carelessness and leisure. She was different here. She did not have a driver waiting to take her home; there were no stories she could share about her father's occupation.

But she was not bitter. She never could be bitter. There were still friends here that she found and many more high school days to make her youth worthwhile. Over time, she had learned to be a bit more like herself again. Yano was her first friend when Raiha sat down for her first class. At first, the only thing the two of them shared in common was a neighboring desk, but as the days went on, they had found themselves giggling over the littlest of things. Ikehara was a closeted horror movie fan, and the two would often babble about films together. From all things terrifying to grotesque, the paranormal and the thrillers—it felt nice to have a fellow connoisseur. And Nishimura did not look like it, but she carried a strong competitive side and saw Raiha as a friendly rival in their class. They were good girls, regardless of their differences in upbringing.

That was the life Raiha became accustomed to, every weekday from eighty-thirty to three-thirty. As much as she had learned to find enjoyment in a new environment over the past months, nothing else could keep her more humble than where she stood now. A short train ride to a newly built station. A short walk down the popularly crowding streets. A puff of cold air and a short tug to her muffler. Further into a narrower street, where construction projects of sculptures decorated the plaza.

"Welcome in!" the woman behind the counter greeted her. Her back was turned from the door, preoccupied with packaging a customer's purchase. A neat little paper box to fit a slice of coffee crème brûlée. Written in a simple, decorative font across the packaging read the store's name—'Nakano's: Café & Bakery'

"I'll be right with you in a—oh! Raiha-chan! Is it four already?"

Raiha greeted back with a wave. "Hello, Miku-san. I'm actually here a bit early today, but I'll just go ahead and get ready for my shift." She glanced over to the customer side of the counter, noticing two men. The one with blonde hair and a curious crook to his brow had turned her way, with a few flutters to his long eyelashes as he looked at Raiha. "Uh…" Raiha murmured, cautiously scooting past him. "Is… there something wrong, sir?"

After a short delay, the man snapped his fingers. "Ah, I thought that was it! You're Uesugi-kun's sister, right? Do you remember us?"

"Huh?" Raiha tilted her head. "You two are…"

"We're Uesugi-kun's friends. We met at the beach, remember? I think it was… two years ago?"

"Oh wait, that was her?" The second man glanced over the blonde man's shoulder. "You look a lot older than I remember. Man… it's already been two years?"

Raiha slowly nodded until a small bulb flickered in her head. "I… think I remember now. Yeah, Big Bro mentions you two sometimes. Takeda and… Matsuda, right?"

"Correct!" Takeda quickly lifted a thumb, followed by a bright wink that almost seemed dazzling.

"Oi," Maeda glared at his friend. "She got my name wrong. Don't say that it's correct."

The blonde man laughed, then turned to Raiha. "I didn't get the chance to ask Uesugi-kun, but do you know if he's come back home this weekend?"

"For the holiday weekend?" Raiha asked, then shook her head. "No, unfortunately not. Big Bro couldn't find time off from work, so he told us he would be staying in Tokyo for the long weekend." She put a hand over her cheek, sighing. "Is he doing alright over there? Not working himself too hard? I can't help but worry about him sometimes."

"He's the same Uesugi-kun as I've always remembered him, if that's what you mean."

"Honestly, that guy…" Maeda crossed his arms. "It's been ages since the three of us got together and hung out. Like old times. My old man took me to this great izakaya downtown on my twentieth. Figured we'd all get our first drink together."

"Then you should be the one to come visit us in Tokyo," said Takeda. "It'll be much easier that way. The nightlife in Tokyo is surely something spectacular; you could even bring Matsui along with you. The more the merrier! Yeah?"

"I'll toss up the idea to her," answered Maeda. "She's been wanting for us to go on a trip somewhere. Get away from town for a bit, you know? And if it's the only way to get Uesugi to come out, then I might take you up on that offer…"

"I can't imagine what Big Bro would be like when he's drunk," said Raiha. She could not help but picture her older brother wandering the streets of Tokyo in a drunken stupor. Her brother already was not the most well-mannered guy out there, and a few drinks could mean anything. If Fuutarou was anything like their father, then the image of a much rowdier and more outspoken version of her older brother was nothing but a worrisome thought. "If he does get out of control or anything," continued Raiha, "I sincerely apologize for him."

"I hardly think Uesugi-kun would be that troublesome." Takeda laughed.

Miku returned to the counter, carrying two neatly packaged boxes, as well as three plastic bags, stuffed to bulky masses of freshly baked bread. "Sorry for the wait, Takeda-san, Maeda-san," she said. "Here you are. Two slices of our coffee crème brûlée for Maeda-san…"

"Thank you, Nakano-san," Maeda said as he lifted the boxes by their small paper handles. "Matsui is a big fan of these. She sends her thanks."

"Tell her we both said 'thank you'," Miku said with a smile. She then nudged the large plastic bags towards Takeda. "and um… 'one-of-everything' for Takeda-san, as you requested."

"Why'd you order so much?" Raiha asked.

"'Why', you ask?" Takeda lifted his head high with a hand earnestly placed over his heart, and for a moment, it looked as if the lights in the bakery grew slightly dimmer to offer the dazzling man his spotlight as he playfully winked. "Why wouldn't I do my best to support our local new businesses? Especially if it's for our dearest friends. Yeah?"

"I… see…" Raiha adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She took one long look around the store, gathering her thoughts over the past few months. Just as Takeda said, the Nakano's café and bakery was still a new business. A fast-casual place still in its infancy. Not all of the floor space was accessible to the workers and customers, as there was still a bit of renovation work to be done here and there. Things like matching chairs and tables, decorative display shelves, and kitchen installments to increase variety in their menu, were all things that made for the bullets of a long to-do list. But it was progress. Slow, steady progress.

"It's only our soft opening for now," Miku added as she handed over the last bag, "but we really are grateful for your patronage. It means so much to us."

"It's entirely our pleasure," Takeda answered. "I am happy to help in any way that I can."

"You'll all do great," said Maeda with a confident grin. "I'll keep trying to swing by whenever I'm in the area."

They waved farewell, exiting the humble bakery and joining the rest of the roving bodies in the street. Now and then, the store would catch the curiosity of another passerby. They would glance at the various goods displayed on the front-facing window—still a work-in-progress, as both the Nakano sisters were concerned. Place these kinds of posters here; move this part of the display up or down a row. It seemed like almost every time Raiha would come in for her shift would be a little game of'Guess What Changed This Time Around the Store'. Nino insisted that more western-styled decor would be the better fit for their location, though, she would never admit that she got all her ideas from the Ichika's social media feed. On the other hand, Miku thought it would be better to keep things similar to their previous workplaces before It seemed like the two Nakano sisters could never fully come to an agreement over every little detail of the store. At the very least, to Raiha, they both made for interesting bosses.

Of the many passersby, a few of the hungrier ones, or the ones that sought the leisure of a quieter, lesser known café, would sometimes poke their head inside, welcomed by the warm smile of its full-time employee. Nakano's had only been open for the better part of a month, and it took Miku up until the previous week to act as confident as a store owner should. It was not too long ago when the third sister could excuse herself as being just a culinary student. Now that Miku had graduated, there were no more excuses to separate her from the world of functioning members of society, and her place in that world was that of a barely recognized bakery.

"Well," Raiha said. "I'll be getting ready for my shift."

"Take your time. It's not like business is booming or anything."

"Don't say that. It's the weekend again, so we're bound to get more customers soon. Think positive! We're only in our second month, and things are only getting better."

Miku laughed. "I'm only joking. But… thanks, Raiha-chan. I think a part of did need to hear something like that. Now, go ahead and get changed."

Raiha pleasantly nodded, then disappeared into the back room. Their uniform was a simple gray and white striped crewneck long sleeve, paired over teal pants, with a gray linen apron in the form of either waist or bib. Stitched in a corner above the breast, or trailing near the bottom hem, was the name 'Nakano's', written in an elegant, English cursive. Raiha would always take a few extra seconds to watch herself in the mirror, feeling a strange tinge of excitement as she watched her apron sway with her turns. An honest-looking outfit for an honest worker. Something to make her feel a little more connected to the place her late mother cherished, and the hard work she must have endured for the sake of her own dreams. With one last tug to her hair ribbon that held back her long hair, Raiha returned to the bakery.

Work was steady. More customers would trickle into their little shop as the minutes ticked by, and Raiha had quickly learned how to keep up. Just as she had predicted, the wave of patrons had grown. Workers, local students, passing families, and anyone in between, the customers flowed.

"Could you take this to the man sitting at table five?" Miku said as she finished plating a sandwich. "He also ordered an iced coffee, so if you could—"

"Yup, already poured," Raiha said as she scooted the plate closer. "We're almost out of creamer. Do you think you could get another one out?"

"Oh, that's right. I'll get it right after I check on the croissants in the oven."

"Okay. Then I'll be right back." Raiha made her way around the counter, smiling to the woman approaching the register. "We'll be right with you, Ma'am. Sorry for the wait."

After a few more pleasant exchanges with the customers, the overall pace of the store had slowed down just enough to give room for a bit of conversation. "You've really gotten used to this, Raiha-chan," Miku remarked. "I'm really impressed."

"It's nothing," Raiha replied as she leaned against the counter.

"This does take me back a little. You remember I told you that Fuutarou and I worked together for a bit, right?"

"With Big Bro? I think I remember him mentioning that he worked with you and Nino-san in different places before."

Miku nodded. "Yeah. It was part-time at Komugiya. I was just remembering how fast Fuutarou was at learning how to bake bread. In a way, it's kind of nostalgic. Though…" Miku gently chuckled. "You're a lot better at dealing with customers than he was."

Raiha laughed. "That doesn't surprise me at all. Big Bro can be a little unapproachable at times, but he's gotten a lot better."

"It's not entirely that either. You're even a lot better with them than me. I'm still not quite used to talking with them, especially when Nino isn't around."

"Really? I don't see it. Everyone has their own way, right?"

"True, true… I guess a better way of saying it is that you're quite attentive to the customers, and they all seem to really appreciate it. I think that's why I've started to recognize a few regulars here and there, and they always seem delighted to see you."

Raiha thought for a moment. "I never really thought about it like that. I just pretend to act the same way as if I were home with Dad and Big Bro."

"Then I guess you're just really good with people. Like those girls that came in a few minutes earlier. Did you know them?"

"Oh! Those were a few of my friends from middle school. I told them to stop by whenever they got the chance and we were just catching up. We even made some plans to meet after my shift tomorrow. A new store opened up, and we heard that—" Raiha stopped herself. "Ah, wait… now that I think about it, is that unprofessional? Doing that kind of thing during work hours?"

"No, no. You're fine." Miku laughed with a wave of her hand. "Nino and I wouldn't be that strict as your employers. Well… I can't speak entirely for Nino though. If either of us were the meaner, more strict boss, then Nino would probably—"

A voice interrupted her, hollering from the front entrance, "WHO is the evil boss?!"

Stood at the doorway with her arms folded across her chest was Nino. Her face carried a playful scowl, aimed right at the sister, who nervously giggled to herself. The second sister sauntered into the café, loosely swinging the book bag over her shoulder. "Sorry," Nino said with a smirk, "was I interrupting something, Miku?"

"Welcome… in, Nino," said Miku with a final, empty chuckle. "I… thought you weren't coming in today."

"Class finished early, so I thought I'd come and make myself useful around the place. You know, set a good example for our dear employee?" She looked beside her, turning the devilish smirk on her face to a polite smile. "Hello, Raiha-chan. Is everything going well here? How was school today?"

Raiha pleasantly smiled, disregarding the sisters' small quarrel. It was not like these short banters were anything new in the workplace when it came to these two. "Hello, Nino-san. Things have been going well; you just missed the small rush from earlier. And school was fine. We just wrapped up midterms."

"Good to hear. Keep it up!" Nino rolled up her sleeve. "So, what here needs to be done? We only got… a little over two hours before closing, so I wanna make use of my time."

"I was about to start cleaning the tables, so I'll get to that. While I'm at it, I might as well sweep the floors too, so you can leave the entire dining area to me."

"You're a blessing here, Raiha," Nino said, hugging the dark-haired girl. "Honestly, we should be paying you more."

"You both already pay me enough. Like I said, I enjoy working here. Besides, you two still have the debt to worry about, right? The one to your dad?"

Nino and Miku exchanged a look. She was not wrong. The first and most obvious hurdle in their endeavor to open a bakery café was the insurmountable amount of debt they would be inheriting from the Uesugi family. True, it was a bold decision. Some would even argue that it was a nonsensical agreement for the interest of both parties. As the days crept closer to Nakano's soft opening, the more plausible those opinions may have seemed. It was a decision made in good faith from a good man, but both Nino and Miku would have been lying if they said they had complete and utter confidence in their success. In fact, the nervous shivers they would often get on the nights leading up to their soft opening still had not quite left them, keeping them awake at night as they tossed and turned on their pillows.

That was why they had made a deal.

A deal where pride had no place between the invisible ink of nonexistent pages. A promise the two of them made to their father, Nakano Maruo, who attentively listened to his daughters as they sat over cups of freshly brewed coffee within the dust-filled vacancy of the former Uesugi Bakery.

"Are you two sure about this?" Maruo had asked, taking one long look across the old establishment. "It could be anywhere else. Someplace more suitable, more sensible for two girls starting off."

"We're sure, Dad," Miku said, clutching the fabric of her skirt. "I know it's a lot to ask you—I know we're probably acting spoiled for asking you…"

"… but we need your help," Nino finished. "It might not be right away. No. It definitely won't be right away. But whatever it takes—a year, two years, ten, twenty, whatever—we will make earn our rights to this place."

Maruo thought to himself, taking a slow sip of his hot coffee. "And you're sure of it? You could just ask me to pay off what is due every month and be done with it. The loan for the starting capital… the loan for the overdue payments… A request like that is not too far out of reach for me, you know."

"We… we still want to see how far our own efforts will take us," said Miku."I know it might not make a lot of sense to you right now, but this is the best that Nino and I agreed on."

"That's right," said Nino. "Any amount that you help pay off—we will pay you back. One hundred percent of it. That way, we don't waste any more money on unnecessary interest payments. This is our proposal to you, Dad. We need your help. We need you."

Maruo held back a widened look in his eyes. It seemed like forever he would sit there, gazing at the patient stares of his daughters, with only the warmth of his coffee cup to remind him of the short seconds that felt like hours. And finally, Maruo spoke, "Very well. If that is the way you two want it, then by your proposed arrangements, I shall take the place as your lender. But let's not use such an ugly word. Consider me instead to be… an investor." He leaned back against the creaky chair, savoring another sip of warm coffee. "Though it seems unfitting for me as a father to say this to his own daughters…"

His words prefaced his slight regrets, but the two girls across from him could not help but catch the humored look on his face. As if he found the whole ordeal highly amusing, giving a dry, but gentle, chuckle that escaped his curled lips. "…you two are now officially indebted to me. I look forward to our partnership, Nino, Miku."

A promise to bind their ambition to their efforts. Themselves to their father, and every last bit of integrity they had between them. It would not be easy. The money they made now could only wear down the tiniest fraction of their inherited debt, but each day could only get better. That was what they told themselves to calm the jitters in their heart until they could begin each day anew.

"Speaking of Dad," Miku said as she faced Nino. "He stopped by for lunch again today. He ordered his usual—a muffin and black coffee."

"He stopped by? Again?" asked Nino. "I thought for sure he'd give up on that by now."

Raiha glanced over as she went to retrieve the cleaning supplies. "Your father? Ah, that's right. You mentioned a while ago that he stops by here on the way to work. I'm always in school, so I can never see him. That's really nice of him."

To her surprise, Raiha saw Nino click her teeth and mumble to herself. "Yeah, right… who does Papa think he's fooling? This place is the complete opposite direction from where he works." Nino shook her head, setting her thoughts back straight. "Never mind that! I'm just gonna go get changed. I'll be back out soon."

Miku looked around the counter. "Then… I suppose I can—"

"You can go home."

"W-what?" Miku quickly turned her head.

"You heard me. Go on home, Miku." The co-owner of the bakery café ran a quick hand through her hair, tying the first of her pigtail over her shoulder. Before her sister could retaliate, Nino continued, "Ever since you graduated from culinary school, you've been working from opening to closing. Every single day. Why don't you let me and Raiha handle the closing shift, and you, can go if you'd prefer, you can get an early head start on cooking dinner and preparing snacks. We're all still meeting up tonight, right? Raiha, are you still free?"

"Yup!" Raiha cheerily replied. "I'm really looking forward to Ichika-nee-san's new movie. Even the name sounds eerie—'A Beautiful Splatter.' Ah… I can tell it's going to be something really sinister. She does so well in horror!"

"Yeah…" Nino said with a bit of hesitance. "Anyway, Itsuki and Yotsuba should be home any minute now." She finished tying her second pigtail, looking toward Miku. "That sound like a plan to you, Miku?"

Miku mulled over the thought before settling with a smile. "That… well, I guess I can't argue when it comes to what you say, huh?" Gracefully admitting her defeat, she began to untie her apron. "Alright. I'll go. Make sure you two get back to the apartment safely. It's going to be cold tonight."

After changing and going through a few unfinished tasks around their workplace, Miku eventually waved farewell to the two of them. Again, work came steadily. The customers flowed just as well as they did throughout the day, making its way into the early evening. Warmth of a cozy bakery café brought longer-staying visitors, ordering fresh bread and hot drinks so that they may strip their scarves and sit down.

Nino was a natural worker in this environment. She maneuvered the kitchen and onto the dining area with ease, as if she were simply strolling down a familiar street, offering friendly greetings and an attentive ear for those that needed more of her service. Though, compared to Miku, Nino was still not accustomed to the longer hours. The second sister was someone who concentrated her best efforts into everything she did, and Raiha had noticed that multi-tasking was not exactly Nino's strong suit. Not while she was both a floor worker, a manager, and a student at the same time, all while carrying a friendly face for pleasant conversation to their customers. With her studies being focused on the business and management components of their restaurant, it would make sense there would be a few hiccups here and there. Orders would sometimes get mixed up in between, some cleaning supplies would still be left in the self-service areas, or either too much or too little sugar had been added to a customer's drink. Twice in the month since they've opened, neither of them had known that something had been left a little longer than needed in the oven until the subtle scent of smoke made them rush to the back of the kitchen. In a way, Raiha could understand why Miku seemed a little hesitant over the idea of Nino handling the place on her own, and why Miku seemed a little more relieved knowing that Raiha would still be around. Of course, Miku would never admit that out loud.

Whichever the case, the two of them managed. The end of their shift neared before long, somewhere around twenty minutes before seven. Fortunately for them, cleanup was a lot easier while their store was still under partial renovations. They could get started by retrieving some of the display signs, and making sure the oven and other daytime appliances were clean and ready for the next day.

"Even the coffee machine?" Raiha asked as she folded a cleaning rag. "There's still a few minutes before closing."

"It's almost seven," Nino replied. "Who is gonna order coffee at this time?"

"I suppose you're right. But just in case, we should do it after we serve this next customer. Welcome in, sir!"

Stepping through the doorway was a tall, slim man with light brown hair and a bit of stubble for facial hair. He took a short, but contemplative gaze across the interior of their store with eyes that looked as if they could have used a bit more sleep the night prior. He ran his fingers through the stubble on his chin, humming loudly as continued further in.

"Wel…come…?" Raiha repeated. "Sir? Is there something I can help you with?"

"Is your manager here, young lady?" the man asked.

"Manager? Is there something wrong, sir? Our manager is currently—"

"Ah, no need. I see her." He placed his hand in his pockets, offering a halfhearted smirk. "Hey, traitor. You're looking well."

Nino looked over her shoulder, spotting the light-haired man and taking all of two seconds to offer a dismissive wave over her back, resuming her tasks. "Good evening, Hirota-san. What brings you in? We're closing in about fifteen minutes."

"You know him, Nino?" Raiha asked.

"Sort of. He's my former boss from Revival."

"Sort of?" Hirota quoted, laughing. "Is that any way to treat your former boss? We parted on good terms, didn't we, Nakano-san?"

"Revival… Revival…" Raiha mulled over vaguely familiar name until the memory of neatly packaged cake boxes surfaced. Leftovers from her brother's work shift when he was in high school, and she remembered just how often her sweet tooth anticipated the different flavors he would bring. "Ah, now I remember. That's the place you and Big Bro worked together, Nino-san."

Nino nodded. "Yeah. I stayed longer after Fuu-kun. Probably… two years? That was before opening our place here."

"You were our best employee. The kids I hired now still have trouble—hold on a minute, did this young lady say that this was Uesugi-kun's younger sister?" He turned to Raiha, offering a friendly gesture. "Ah, I think I can see a bit of it. You know, your brother was one of my best—"

"Whoa, whoa," Nino interjected, tossing a quick glare at her former employer. "Back off. Raiha-chan is ours. You trying to sabotage our business?"

He chuckled to himself. "Hey, it's an honest proposal. You don't find employees like you and Uesugi-kun just anywhere, you know? I tried offering you a raise so that you can stay,, but you didn't take it."

"That's because—"

"I know, I'm only joking. Aren't you forgetting something?" He placed down the sheets of paper he had been carrying—a business flier, a collection of printed photos detailing various cafés and floor plans, and a few business cards, clipped together at the corners. "Here. As you requested."

"Oh! That's right! Thank you, Hirota-san. I had almost forgotten."

"It did take me a while to get these. My apologies."

"No, that's fine. Miku and I still haven't decided on what kind of style we're going for yet."

"Still? Last time I spoke to you, it was the same thing."

"Well, Miku can be pretty stubborn."

"What's that?" Raiha asked, curiously glancing over.

"A couple of things from a contact of mine," Hirota answered. "He runs a carpentry business in Nagoya, and he's helped me out a bunch of times around my store. They're redoing their whole website, so I figured I'd come and deliver their info in person."

"These are perfect, Hirota-san!" Nino shuffled through the papers. "It's exactly what I was looking for. They even have some western-inspired designs here too. And this one is the style I've been trying to explain to Miku, but she just doesn't get it."

Hirota sighed. "See, this is why it can get messy having a co-owner. It took me and Sachiko-san months to come to an agreement, now that she'll be joining my bakery."

"Sachiko-san?" Nino was half-paying-attention, looking through the pages on the counter. "Oh, Mihara-san, your partner,. Right. I remembered her as the manager across the street. So she's working with you now? Since when?"

"Since we got married."

"I see, I see. After you two got marrie—" She paused, blinking twice. "Wait, married?! Since when?!"

Hirota burst into laughter. "Since a few months ago, around autumn. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, but we figured, why not? We weren't getting any younger, and the two of us didn't want to make a big fuss over it, so we had a quiet wedding in Kyoto with our friends and family. We were going to invite you, but that was around the time of…" He slowed, scratching the bridge of his nose. "Well, you know… my condolences again about your grandfather."

"Ah…" Nino gently nodded. "It's alright. Thank you, Hirota-san. It's a little belated, but congratulations. I wish both of you the best of luck."

"Thank you, Nakano-san." Her old manager politely bowed. "And I wish you and your sister the best for your endeavors. Managing a new place isn't going to be easy, but I know you got what it takes. You have my blessings."

Nino leaned on her elbow, smirking. "Well, I learned a thing or two from someone who manages a somewhat decent place. I got some confidence that it'll all work out, but thank you for your blessings."

"Heh. You're a handful of years too early before you can start saying things like that. Though… I wouldn't mind if you proved me wrong, Nakano-san." He checked his watch. "Well, would you look at the time? I think I've stayed long enough."

"Yeah, we should start getting ready for closing." Nino organized the papers aside, reaching back for the cleaning rag she had placed down earlier. "We got… ten minutes left before closing. Thanks again for going out of your way, Boss—I mean, Hirota-san."

"Hm? What was that?"

"I said Hirota-san."

"That's not what I h—"

"I said." Nino shot a glare, dragging the last syllables of her words before continuing, "Thank you, Hirota-san. Now, unless you're here as a customer, I'd have to kindly ask you…"

"Got it, got it. I must have overheard or something." The man laughed, offering one last friendly wave to the two girls before taking his leave. With most of their preparations for closing handled earlier, it would not be long before they stood in a finely cleaned bakery café, with the chairs stacked over the tables and the counters wiped clean.

The dull reflection of her smile curved along the crystal-clear glass of the coffee maker as Nino let out a satisfied sigh.

"It's really been an eventful day, huh?" Raiha said as she tucked the last of the boxes in the kitchen cupboards. "Lots of people came in. More than usual. Though, a lot of it still has been family and friends, like both of our dads. Some of your classmates from high school visited earlier too, when Miku and I were working."

"That's to be expected with soft openings. We still need to think about our promotion campaign…" Nino bit her nail. "The foot traffic in the area is good, but we really need to think of something soon to get more customers in. Something to really make the place stand out. So, I'm thinking this weekend, me and Miku can finally come to a decision."

"I hope you both do. Whatever it is, I'm sure it would make this place look absolutely beautiful!"

"That aside, are you ready for movie night? Look here, Miku just texted me the main dish for tonight."

"Whoa!" On her phone screen was a wide bowl of red, orange, and yellow colors, with sprinkles of green onion spread across the mound. Long grain rice laid underneath a hearty portion of shrimp, chicken, and sausage, tinged red with scarlet spices. "It looks delicious. What is it?"

"Something Ichika told us about from when she had to travel. Cajun Jambalaya. Are you okay with spicy food?

"No problems here."

"Great." Nino tapped her phone keyboard a few more times. "Yotsuba and Itsuki are gonna head out and pick up some snacks, too. Is there anything you want?"

"Let me think…" Raiha glanced forward, then made her way back to the register. "Oh, hold on. I think someone is coming in. Hello, Ma'am! Welcome in!"

"Someone's coming in this close to closing?" Nino muttered to herself, already halfway through folding her apron. "Who could…"

"Just so you know, we will be closing in about five min—Oh!" Raiha enthusiastically shot up, bringing her palms together. "Takebayashi-san!"

If she had snapped her gaze any quicker, then the lengths of her pigtails could possibly have been mistaken for the force of a cracked whip, as the contentious café co-owner looked to the dark-haired woman who offered a single, carefree wave.

"Hey, Raiha-chan." Takebayashi grinned. "It's been a while, hasn't it? I think I'd… like to order a coffee, please."

Chapter Text

Drips of darkened brew trickled into the fogging glass, wafting a light and bitter-laced scent into the air that still smelled faintly of cake and warm bread. Coffee was simple enough to serve. She had hand-selected the types of beans they would use in their own original blend—the product of countless hours of research and study. A medium roast using specially imported beans from two different countries, freshly grounded to serve, with a rich, yet light taste to accompany a bold aroma. They must have brewed over a thousand cups by now that the process almost felt second-nature. Patrons praised the complex taste that came from careful preparation, where everything was measured and poured precisely. However, just this once, Nino wished that she could be done with the entire process as soon as possible.

Drop after slowly-poured drop, the din of the coffee machine felt as if it grew louder, along with the awkward silence that filled these past seconds. Or could it have been longer? No, it could not have been any longer than a few seconds since she had last checked, and still, Nino continued to glance back at the coffee pitcher and the darkened pool that gathered at the bottom. Hardly a quarter full. Another glance five seconds later hardly did any better. She tapped her fingers against the counter and stared off to the corners of the café, but it was no use.

It was just plain awkward.

Takebayashi hardly seemed to care. Instead, the long, dark-haired woman had welcomed herself to the bar stool seated directly in front of the coffee maker—the exact spot where Nino stood, leaning her back against the back counter with her arms folded over her chest, and an averted look to her face whenever Takebayashi's would cross with hers. The dark-haired girl seemed to entertain herself just fine, as the carefully picked decor and thematic arrangements of the bakery café seemed more than enough to kill the time where conversation was scarce.

Raiha… Nino thought to herself, eyeing the back of the store. Please hurry up…

"Are you…" Takebayashi asked in a casual tone, smiling, "the co-owner who is a bit on the shy side? Miku-san, I think it was? Don't worry, I don't mean to bother you for long."

Nino held back a snappy remark. The last time the two of them spoke was their first meeting, back at her high school's Sunrise Festival, and she did not leave with the highest opinion of this woman. Still, she was a friend and classmate of Fuutarou, and he insisted that she was harmless. At the very least, while the clock had yet to strike seven, Takebayashi was a customer. The least Nino could do was act polite, and to her best efforts, that would mean being curt. "Wrong," she said with a forced smile. "I'm Nino, the second sister. Don't worry, we're used to the mix-ups."

Takebayashi laughed, seemingly oblivious to any standoffish behavior. "Heh. Fifty percent chance on getting that one right. Win some, lose some."

"Is it a normal thing for you to drink coffee this late?" Nino asked, a tinge of her annoyance draining into the last of her words. Admittedly, the café co-owner had not quite forgiven her for ordering a café au lait so close to closing time—especially not when they had already finished cleaning the coffee-maker and the necessary appliances to make the milk foam.

Again, Takebayashi laughed; something more of a giggle than her usual fit. To Nino, Takebayashi seemed to be someone who always found amusement in every little detail, and Nino was not sure how much she appreciated that kind of detail about her. "Sorry," Takebayashi said. "I meant to come earlier. I promised Fuutarou that I'd visit here at least once while I was back home, but I lost track of time"

"We are open tomorrow, too. At eleven A.M."

"Ha, I know. Though, tonight was my last chance, so I made sure to hurry here as soon as I could." She tugged the collar of her blouse, sighing. "I'm taking the evening train back to Tokyo. It's going to be a long trip, hence, the coffee."

"I see…"

"But whoa, this place has really changed from how I remembered it. It really does look like a bakery now."

"Remembered? You've been here before?"

"Yeah. A long, long time ago." She leaned on her elbow, looking at the parts of the ceiling that had yet to be fully renovated. The sight of the cracked tile, the familiar entrance to the back hallway, the shape of the counter-top—all were so strangely nostalgic, and the dark-haired girl smiled. "Man, this takes me back. When we were kids, we used to always pass by this street on the way to school. Sometimes, Fuutarou would just go on and on about this place, and he would even tell stories about his mom. Were they still cleaning up the place? After all this time?"

Nino nodded. "They were the ones who taught us how to keep the place running."

"Ah, I see. That's good. I remember seeing the inside of this place for the first time… somewhere around fourth grade, I think? That's when I first met Raiha-chan."

She took another look across the walls, piecing together those dusty visages of the past, the vibrancy that made for the present, and all the marks that made for a promising future. "Most of the time, the place was closed and boarded up, so it's a lot to take in. I'm happy to see it like this now, after all these years."

"Really…?" Nino muttered, still reluctant that she entertained more of a conversation than she had hoped for, but she could not help herself from wanting to continue. "Hmm. Sounds like the two of you were pretty close. With his family, too. You and Fuu-kun—" She covered her lip with her cloth, but it was too late.

The look on Takebayashi's face had already piqued to a playful grin as she cooed, "Oh, that nickname is cute! Completely adorable!" She giggled. "'Fuu-kun', huh? Do all of you call him that?"

"S—so what?" Nino quickly retorted, pushing past the rosy tint to her cheeks. "Fuu-kun happens to like it very much! And, for the record, that is something special between us. He wouldn't be okay with just anyone using it."

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that. I'm a little surprised. He used to never liked being called nicknames. In fact, he still gets upset whenever I poke fun a him and call him the one I used to give him."

"And that is…?"

"'Lit—tle Bro—ther Fuutarou," Takebayashi answered, sounding out the syllables behind a smirk turned coy, along with a few sways of her finger lifted over her face.

"Pfft…" Without realizing it, a laugh had slipped past Nino's lips. Something about the way Takebayashi held that silly gesture, and the little bits of Nino's imagination that came from hearing some so unexpected to her. Nino laughed again, less apprehensive from entering a small fit of laughter. "I… I can kind of picture the look on his face, actually. Heh…"

"Right? He reacted the exact same way. Like this!"

"Wait, that's actually really spot-on! He always does that thing with his lips!"

"You noticed it too?" Takebayashi laughed. "I swear, he makes it too easy."

"He just gets embarrassed so easily. And he acts like people don't notice!"

Soon after, the sound of rushed footsteps came from the back room. "Sorry about that!" Raiha called out, folding her work apron. "I got a call from my dad. He forgot I was going to be staying over for the tonight, so we—oh! You two look like you're having fun."

As if she had suddenly come to her senses, Nino returned her attention to the coffee pot that had finished brewing a while ago, forcing a cough to stifle what could have been mistaken as a gregarious look on her face. She said nothing, continuing with the rest of her preparations for their last order for the workday. Before Raiha could ask what they were talking about, Takebayashi waved the young girl over. "Welcome back, Raiha-chan. Is that your school uniform? It looks cute on you!"

"You think so?" she smiled, adjusting the black and white naval collar. "Thank you, Takebayashi-san."

"If I remember correctly, that's Kurobara Girls' uniform, right? That would make you… whoa, high school already?"

"Yup! I just started this year."

"Congratulations. Boy, that makes me feel a little old now, ha ha…" She shook her head. "Anyways, how has your father been? Has he been doing well?"

"He's been doing fine. Great, as a matter of fact! A lot has changed over these past few years, but he seems to be a lot more well-rested these days. It's been a long time since we had to worry about paying all our loans at the end of the month, so I'd like to think he's been getting some much needed rest."

"Ah… that's right." Takebayashi smiled. "Fuutarou briefly mentioned a few things the last time we talked. About your family and this old place. In fact, he was the one who insisted that I should pay a visit while I'm back in town."

"That sounds like him," said Raiha. "He's been trying to send a bit more traffic our way since we opened. He's been telling all of his friends to visit, so that makes you, Takeda-san, Matsuda-san and…" She stopped counting her fingers, halfhearted laughing. "Actually, I think that's it."

Takebayashi laughed. "Either way, I think it's sweet. I'm happy for you and your family, Raiha-chan."

"Thank you! It really means a lot to us. So, what brings you back to town, Takebayashi-san? Are you visiting family?"

"Yeah… it's been a while since I've seen my folks. They're always guilt-tripping me about not calling enough, even though I always do whenever I get chance. I'm on my way back to Tokyo tonight, though. It was just a quick visit."

Raiha sighed. "I just wished Big Bro also took the time to stop by too. Even his friend Takeda-san came back this weekend."

"He's a busy boy, after all. Speaking of being busy, did you have any plans for the weekend?"

"Actually, I do!" she enthusiastically replied. "Nino-san and I, as well as the rest of her sisters, are going to meet up tonight to watch a movie! I don't know if Big Bro has told you much, but his girlfriend is a super talented actress! She's doing work-study from all the way in America, and she sent us one of her newer ones. It's called A Beautiful Splatter."

"Ah, Fuutarou has—"

"She's super amazing," Nino quickly interjected. As if she clearly wanted to get a few points across, the second sister made sure to emphasize a few of her words as she continued, "Ichika is our oldest sister and Fuu-kun doesn't even know how good he has it. Ichika is smart, mature, one of the best actresses around, and she can get along with…"

To her surprise, Takebayashi followed with full exuberance. "Oh, I know! My boyfriend is a huge fan of hers, and now, I am too."

"H—huh?" Nino raised a brow. "You and your… boyfriend?"

"Yeah. He's a huge dork who's been a fan of hers since we were in high school. I'll admit, I was a little jealous of her at first—I mean, who wouldn't, you know? But, I actually met your sister a few months ago in Tokyo. She was just so nice and friendly, and oh my goodness, she was just so pretty!" She laughed. "It was like meeting a celebrity."

"I… see…" Nino muttered, embarrassed. She attempted to quickly move past the conversation by finishing up Takebayashi's order, pouring the rest of the steamed milk over the open cup before covering it and placing back on the counter. "One café au lait, medium."

"Ah, thank you." Takebayashi stood up and gathered her belongings. "Sorry again for coming in last minute. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience."

"Technically, we're still open, so it's fine," Nino replied, trying not to grumble as she untied her apron. "At least for the next two… one minute."

"Then I shouldn't take up anymore of your time." Takebayashi grabbed her coffee and politely bowed. "It was a pleasure visiting here. I wish you all the best of luck!"

"Thank you very much!"

They watched the plated numbers glow, one onto the next. A slow ascent up thirty floors of the luxurious high-rise apartment, with every passing floor dragging invisible weight onto her weary shoulders. An office man, happily drunk off a Friday's stupor, had gotten off on the sixth floor; a mother and her two kids on the eleventh; a well-dressed couple on the eighteenth. From here, it was just the two of them and a single ride to the thirtieth, with no other sounds to accompany the din of a moving elevator, until—somewhere between the twenty-second and twenty-third—Nino finally let out a long sigh.

"You seem really tired today, Nino-san," said Raiha, looking up from her phone. "Was lecture boring again?"

"Eh… a bit, I guess," answered Nino, but the words came off like a mumble as her back leaned further down against the wall. The lengthier strands of her bangs fell a little over her brow, which she blew away with an annoyed puff from her pouted lips. "It's just… I really don't understand that girl at all. What's her deal…?"

"Hmm? What was that?"

"It's… nothing. I don't know; maybe I'm just tired from today." She loosely shook her head. "Don't worry about it."

Raiha raised a brow, but thought there was no point bothering Nino about it if that's what she said. Instead, the young girl brought her attention to the final numbers of the elevator, and the plans they all were looking forward to for the past week. "Well, we're almost at your apartment. Feeling excited for the movie, Nino-san?"

Her head slightly perked at the mentioning. "Oh, you bet I am! Ichika has been telling us all about the stuff that went on during production, and what I'm guessing is that…"

The elevator dinged, and they continued their conversation down the hallway. Raiha's fully realized love for film meshed well with Nino's fascination of the western world, exchanging their own depictions of the world behind the Hollywood films Ichika starred in. It was brief, but a little light gossip and a few gripes about the woes of the workforce did well to lift their spirits until they found themselves in front of the apartment door.

"We're home…" Nino's nose twitched as they entered the living room. "Wait, what's that smell?"

Raiha peered behind from behind her. "Is something burning?"

"Yotsuba!" Miku's voice trailed from the kitchen. "Open the windows across the room! The alarm will go off!"

"I'm on it!" Dashing across the hall was a loose-fitted, brown mass of knit cotton cloth, with each step to its quickened stride announced with a loud stomp. When she passed the two girls standing at the entryway, Yotsuba came to an abrupt stop. "Oh! Nino, Raiha-chan! Welcome ho—"

"Yotsuba!

"Ah! Right!" Just as quickly as she came, the girl in the bear-shaped pajamas made her across the room, leaving Nino and Raiha with nothing but guesses as they entered the rowdy room. A slight, grayish haze clouded the kitchen, with a worried-looking chef flapping the airspace with a kitchen towel. When they made eye contact, Miku could already make out their concerns as they saw her standing over the frying pan.

"It's al—" She coughed, fanning more air. "It's all fine! The food is still fine! Only a small part of the meat got burnt."

"Are you sure, Miku?" Nino walked over, dropping her schoolbag onto the couch. "What's the damage? I'll help out."

"But you just got back from work, so you must be tired. Really, it's fine. I can handle the rest of it myself."

"Western dishes aren't up your alley," Nino retorted, already rolling up her sleeves. "Let me handle it from here, otherwise you'll end up burning the rest of it."

"Me?" Miku glared. "This was just a small thing. If you want to talk about burning things, then are you forgetting last week, and the week before that, at the shop? Maybe I should be he one not trusting you."

"Huh—?" Nino shot back the same look. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Miku. You've still got a long way before you can start bossing me around the kitchen. Now let me through."

"I'm only speaking out of fact. Your mind tends to wander off when you have work and school in the same day, so I'll finish everything up here. Go and do something else."

"If I'm focused on just cooking, and not a bunch of other things, then it's hardly a problem. Why don't you go and do something else?"

The two sisters devolved into a fit of bickers and banters as they joined each other behind the counter, eventually melding to distant noise to a home that was well accustomed to a bit of chaos here and there. Raiha let them be, making her way to the quintuplet that sat on the living room couch, completely unbothered by her noisy surroundings. Beside her was an open laptop.

"Good evening, Raiha-chan," said Itsuki. "How was work and school today?"

"Hi, Itsuki-neechan. School was fine. Work too. We've been having a lot more customers lately, so things have been getting a little busier."

"Not too busy, I hope. It's still just the three of you working there, and you and Nino are still part-time."

"It's all still manageable, don't worry!" Raiha grinned. "Work is still a lot of fun, and Miku and Nino-san make sure to take good care of me."

Itsuki nodded. "That's good to hear. Just make sure you don't work yourself too hard that it starts to affect your studies. Remember: school comes first."

"Wow, you really do sound like a real teacher now, Itsuki-chan."

Raiha glanced over, realizing that the voice had come from the opened laptop. Placed full-screen was an ongoing video call, with the person on the screen lowering herself to back down onto her desk chair, clad in an off-white bathrobe and a towel wrapped over her hair. "Ah!" Raiha exclaimed, taking a seat. "Ichika-neesan! I didn't know you were there."

"I just got back from showering. You're looking well, Raiha-chan."

"Shouldn't it be really late in California? What time is it over there?"

"Actually, it's the opposite! It 's pretty early here. Seven in the morning. I'm currently in New York for the weekend."

"N—New York?! As in the New York City? Like, with Broadway and stuff?"

"Mhm! That's the place!"

"What are you doing all the way over there?"

Ichika chuckled. "It's nothing much. A director that a friend of mine knows is hosting a formal event to celebrate his new movie becoming a big box office hit. Word around is that there's going to be quite a few big names in showbiz there. Can't hurt for a few of us to think about doing a little networking while we attend."

"Networking, huh? So even then, work is still involved." Itsuki shuddered at the thought. "Showbiz sounds stressful. I can't imagine having to have that on my mind all the time…"

"It's not my ideal way to spend my Saturday, but you can't be picky when a good opportunity arises. On the bright side, I have this entire day to explore the city with a few of the girls here. You should just see how lovely the city looks from—actually, wait, I'll show you."

The two girls on the couch watched as Ichika picked up her laptop, making her way across the hotel room. . "You said you flew in just last night, right, Ichika?" asked Itsuki, adjusting her glasses.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Your hotel room is a complete and utter mess! I see so many things dumped all over the floor and on the counters! Is that how it's like at your apartment too?!"

Ichika nervously chuckled, fixing the angle of her camera. "Ah ha… don't worry about that. I'll make sure to put most of it away before the hotel cleaning service comes in. Promise! I still got a few hours, so…"

Itsuki did not say anything, leaning closer to the screen with a look that could not be mistaken for anything other than doubt.

"Anyways…" continued Ichika, twirling her laptop around, "moving on, I was just about to show you guys the view from my hotel. Here, have a look at this!"

The curtains pushed aside, blinding the lens of her camera in bright sunlight. When everything finally settled to a clear view—passed the scattered flutter of the city birds perched on her hotel window sill—was a near-endless expanse of mist-shrouded skyscrapers and flat, snow-coated rooftops. Tightly packed buildings scattered across the landscape, their drab and slate gray surfaces riddled with windows and urban abrasion. Even lower were its dwellers. Roving and purposeful bodies alike, tucked in their scarves and mufflers, and donning winter coats as their boots dragged the snow beneath their feet. Though the ones behind the screen could not quite here it, Ichika could hear the faintest sounds of car horns blaring and screeching in the distance. And in the distance, the brief shimmer of the ocean against the morning light—an ocean that was was even further away than the one that separated her from her home.

Raiha and Itsuki found themselves pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, then cheek-to-cheek, as they gawked at every discernible detail Ichika's laptop camera and her barely-passable internet connection could transmit, letting out a long, "whoaaa," as they went.

"Hmm? Oh!" Ichika's face peeked from the side of the screen as she was drying her hair. "Hey there, Miku! How long have you been there?"

"Huh?" Itsuki glanced over her shoulder, just in time to be met face to face with her sister who stealthily found her way right behind the couch. "Wh—whoa! Miku! Don't sneak up on me like that; you nearly made me jump! Weren't you just in the kitchen?"

"I was, but I wanted to see what you all were looking at," answered Miku, leaning a little closer to the screen. "Hello, Ichika. Are you doing well?"

"All fine here!" Ichika answered. "I was just telling the girls about my plans for exploring the city today."

"New York, right? I heard the pizza over there is really tasty. Were you going to try some?"

"First thing on my to-do list, actually. Erika-san keeps telling me, 'you're not allowed to say you've been to New York until you've had some real New York Pizza,' or something like that. I don't quite get it myself, so I guess I'll be finding out later. Other than that, me and my friends from the Institute are thinking about shopping around Times Sq—Hm? Is that Yotsuba coming in?"

"Hm? Yotsu—ah!" Itsuki flinched as she turned to her other shoulder, feeling the fuzzy felt of her sister's bear pajamas shove against her. "Yotsuba! Hey, watch it! Why is everyone…"

"Ichika! Hello!" Yotsuba exclaimed, as if the laptop microphone was somehow placed all the way across the room.

"Good morning—or, should I say, good evening, Yotsuba. I just remembered after seeing your pajamas. I see you busted out your finest for movie night."

"Of course I did! I gotta make sure I'm at my comfiest before movie night. Anyway, I forgot to ask you earlier: were you going to pick up any souvenirs from New York?"

"Souvenirs?" said Ichika. "Ah, you're right; I probably should. What did you have in mind?"

"Fridge magnets!" She landed her hands around Raiha's shoulders, grinning. "Raiha-chan went to visit Uesugi-san at Tokyo during vacation, and she brought one back for us. It's on there right now."

"It's the only one on there," Miku added, glancing at the kitchen. "It seems so lonely. We were thinking about starting a small collection of places some of us have visited. I'm sure you can grab quite a few from America, Ichika."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually." Ichika amused herself at the thought. "In that case, I'll make sure to pick out a good one. How about you, Raiha-chan? Did you want anything?"

"Me?" The young girl thought a moment. "I don't think I'll need much. Maybe something easier for you to bring back, like a keychain? Something to go on my schoolbag."

"Keychain, keychain… got it. I should think about something for Fuutarou-kun too…"

"How about a T-shirt? You know, something like the ones you see that go'I-heart-N-Y' across the chest in big letters?"

Miku laughed. "For some reason, picturing Fuutarou with that looks silly. He doesn't seem like the type to wear that kind of thing."

"You're right," Raiha chuckled. "He hasn't expressed any interest in traveling at all. I'm sure he'll say something about it looking too touristy and embarrassing."

"… which is what makes it even funnier," said Ichika, laughing. "It'll be perfect. Actually, now that I think about it, aren't Dad and Fuutarou-kun around the same size? Should I get them matching ones?"

"Matching ones?! Uesugi-san and Dad?! Pfft!" Yotsuba covered her mouth, picturing the stoic and unamused looks on their face, dressed in matching T-shirts with their arms crossed over the big red heart symbol on their chest. "That doesn't suit them at all! Ha ha!"

They all laughed, and Ichika continued, "Alright that settles it; I'll go shopping for some. That reminds me too… I should get something nicer for the event tonight. The dress I brought is fine, but I think it's the shoes..."

"What's wrong with the shoes?" Itsuki asked.

"Nothing really, I just feel like I need something nicer to go with the dress I picked out. Here, I'll show you; I know I had it somewhere around here… there it is!" Ichika reached somewhere off the screen—presumably digging through a pile of clumsily packed clothes—picking out a shiny, wine-red jersey gown. The back opened, treading coquettishly low past the mid-back, save for the thin crisscross of silver lines that covered it. A leg-baring slit trailed upward, halted at a spot that they surmised was somewhere between the left knee and the mid-thigh. "I brought my pumps with me," she continued, "but I've been thinking about wearing more stilettos lately. With this dress, I'm thinking either something black or silver for the shoes…"

"I—It—It looks very… mature…" Itsuki said, her cheeks turning a rosy shade. "And aren't those shoes you have nice already?"

"I thought so too, but the party ended up sounding a lot more high-profile than I thought, if you know what I mean. For that reason, I was thinking of picking up a pair of Valencinos, or maybe even my first pair of Remi Cavillas…"

"Whoa, someone is quite the celebrity now. Look at you getting all fancy with the brands."

"Was that Nino's voice just now? Also, why did you flinch, Itsuki?"

Itsuki sighed, realizing that Nino was still in the kitchen, washing some of their cooking utensils. "It's nothing."

"Are those like really luxurious brands or something?" Raiha asked.

"Oh, definitely," answered Nino. "All kinds of big-name celebrities wear those brands. We're talking, like, red carpet events. Live talk shows. Big award shows. Those kinds of things."

"People that famous are gonna be there?" Yotsuba asked. "Like who?"

"Well… it's just some gossip between us, and don't tell anyone I told you this, but the word around is that the director is going to be announcing a brand new project at the venue, shortly after finishing his most recent film. He's already finished casting the main lead, and you might be all be familiar with him. The main lead is going to be…"

"Wait, wait—NO WAY!"

Itsuki could hardly recognize the sound to be quickly approaching footsteps before she felt herself being smooshed between the shoved bodies of her sisters, collapsing onto the couch. "Whoa, whoa!" she called out. "Nino! Not you too!"

"You're not talking about that actor, are you?" Nino continued, leaning closer to the camera. "As in, THE…"

"Yup!" Ichika said, laughing at the crowded . "The exact one you're thinking of."

"Who is that?" Miku's voice came from somewhere off-screen, which Ichika presumed to be the other end of the couch.

"He's starred in a ton of movies," Raiha answered. "He's most famous for his roles as..."

"Ichika!" Nino had made it to the center position of the camera, leaning her way past Itsuki and Yotsuba who struggled to make room for her. "You have to get me an autograph from him! He's like, one of all-time my celebrity crushes!"

"I'll see what I can do, but I wouldn't want to be a—"

"Or maybe, you could get a picture with him? Do you think he'd let you do that? I can use that to pretend that I was the one who met him and—"

"Which movie was that?" Yotsuba joined Miku and Raiha's conversation. "Did we watch that one before? It sounds familiar."

"We only saw the trailer," answered Miku. "It's that one where the world was nearly destroyed because of a rampant—"

"There are WAY too many people here!" Itsuki shouted. "I cannot move! Get off of me, Nino!"

Yotsuba twitched her nose. "Hey, Nino?"

"Quiet down, Itsuki, I'm only asking for a—huh?" Nino glanced over. "What is it, Yotsuba?"

"I smell something. It's coming from the kitchen."

"Something from the—Oh! Oh sh—" Nino leaped back from the couch, hurrying herself back to the kitchen. "Miku! I'm gonna need some help!"

Miku sighed, quickly standing up. "See, this is exactly what I've been saying about…"

"Shut up; not right now! Grab that cloth over there! Hurry!"

"What should I do?" Yotsuba said, springing back to her feet. "The windows are still open! Should I get a fan?"

As quickly as the sisters had arrived, the look of their living room couch had grown more spacious, with only Raiha and a slightly frazzled Itsuki left to continue the conversation with Ichika—who contently laughed amidst the devolved chaos that fell over the room."Seems like I've distracted you all enough," she said, unwrapping the towel over her head. "It's about time for your movie night, right? I should be getting ready to head off soon myself."

Raiha knelt beside the laptop. "We've really been looking forward to this one, Ichika-neesan. I heard that 'A Beautiful Splatter' was Top Trending in the U.S. on its first two days. Is that true?"'

"Something like that. The reception was better than our director had expected. I heard that he almost fainted when he got the news. He's an alum from our institute, and this one made for his third commercial release. I heard his first two did decent, but this one was his big break. He went around and called every member of the cast to thank them personally." She stopped a moment to laugh at the memory. "I was sooo confused when he got around to me—it's not everyday you get a call from a grown man practically bawling his eyes out to you."

"Why not? Does Uesugi-kun not call you enough these days?" Itsuki remarked, making the two girls burst into laughter.

"Anyway," continued Ichika, "Looks like Erika is calling me. Let me know what you all think of the movie. Good night!"

They waved each other off, with some of the further-away sisters hollering late replies amidst their cleanup. After a couple more bickers and banters, they all took part in preparing the living room for their movie night. Thankfully for them, the repeated mishaps that took place in their apartment kitchen did little damage to their main entrée for the evening, and they were table to lay out a healthy serving of firstly-prepared jambalaya, and even a second helping for those who would later develop a newfound fascination for Cajun dishes. Soon, their coffee table was covered in a wide array of convenience store snacks and drinks. They slipped into comfortable lounge wear and dimmed the lights, gathering to spots across the couch and onto the floor. A few of them had already begun to huddle close to each other, drawing timid breaths as they clutched blankets close to their chest.

"You girls alright?" Raiha asked, looking back. She had not quite realized it until now, but her seat was the closest to the television, with a rather large distance between her and the next of the Nakano sisters.

"W—We're fine," Itsuki quickly answered. "We're just… getting comfortable. Before the movie."

Yotsuba nodded—a handful of times more than what should have been necessary. "Yeah! We normally huddle real close when we watch Ichika's movies! I—Isn't that right, Nino?"

Nino attempted to shrug, but found it difficult due to the weight of both Yotsuba's and Itsuki's arms wrapped around hers. She glanced off both her shoulders. "Do you two mind…?"

Before Raiha could ask, Miku had reached over and picked up the disk cover of their evening entertainment. Depicted was a distant, full-body shot of Ichika dressed in a museum worker's outfit, stood within a dark room with nothing but a dim spotlight over her head. The centerpiece to the cover, however, was a half-body portrait. A painting. A woman with faded red hair, carrying streaks of scarlet down sparsely scattered strands, unknown whether it be the painting, or the woman's age, that made her locks lose their luster. Her face carried a cold and obscure gaze, as if she stared directly through the insides of her viewer. And placed so sinisterly beside the painting, juxtaposed by the delicate brushwork of the portrait, was a crude, crimson splatter.

"It's been a while since Ichika has starred in a horror film," Miku said. "She used to a do a lot when she was starting off, but it's been mostly dramas and action lately. Needless to say, some of us still haven't gotten used to it. Just be ready to cover your eyes, Raiha-chan."

"Not true!" Yotsuba retorted. "We'll be just fine, won't we, Itsuki?"

"Right. Right!" Itsuki nodded. "Ichika has starred in a bunch of these before, so we just got to get… reacquainted. Yeah, that's it. Once the movie starts, we'll be fine."

Nino groaned. "That's nice and all, but can you do it without holding onto me? Let go already!"

"But, but, Ichika isn't here!" said Yotsuba. "Who else are we going to hide behind?"

Raiha halfheartedly laughed. "You do know the movie hasn't started yet, right? And you're already nervous?" She hardly waited for an answer, shrugging, as she clicked the remote. "Oh well. Let's just start, shall we?"

"We're starting?!"

「 A Beautiful Splatter 」  —  00:00:00 / 1:28:47

Rotted wood splinters. Trembling rays of light bleeds into the darkened frame—first, a brief glint, gaping further, as the wood and stone crumbled around it. A man's voice enters the scene. Heavy grunts; heavier strikes. The words came muffled, slipped through a filtered mask, "We got it open! Over here!"

The camera zooms out. Men and women in dusty-brown uniform spread across the rubble. 'Dierrode Expedition Team,' as the logo read on their attire and their parked vehicles. The scene pans over, revealing old architecture and the rampant overgrowth that ran across the town. In the distance were verdant hills, far away from any trace of modern civilization.

"Psst…" Yotsuba leaned to her side. "Nino, what did it say on the screen? It went by too fast."

"I only recognized 'Italy', I think. Something about an abandoned town, but I couldn't read the rest of its name."

"Whoaaa, did they really go all the way to Italy? Is that how it looks like?"

"It don't know. Just keep watching."

The exposition carried on for a short while longer. The workers gathered, speaking archaeological terms and jargon about the old town as they gathered by forcibly opened door. Members of the team broke apart into specialized tasks, surveying what appeared to be a hidden cellar in a centuries-old home. Eventually, the team procured what looked to be a massive picture frame covered in a dusty carpet.

A woman wearing gloves peeks behind the cover and whistles. "Whew! Now isn't that something..." She patted her uniform pants. "We should count our blessings that our lead was right. To think, the famous Viliberto Marsella Lo Pietra had one last piece hidden all the way here. Makes all this trouble worth it. Wrap it up nicely, team! Don't want to get any scratches on it."

She covered the painting—leaving only a short glimpse of the subject's bust and hands visible to the viewers before the rest of the team carried on. It was a quick sequence. They were extracted by helicopter; their gear loaded onto all-terrain vehicles. The painting was carefully protected, packaged, and transported through ship cargo, sailing across the Atlantic Sea.

As the expedition team leaves, a sinister sound escapes the old cellar. A low, mumbling sound—a ghastly and otherworldly chime, reminiscent of a broken wind instrument and a lifeless inhale.

「 A Beautiful Splatter 」  —  00:13:09 / 1:28:47

After its long journey across sea, the mysterious painting arrives to the examination room of the fictional Leonstein Historical Museum, set in modern day America. Various characters came and went through the scenes. Business and business talk, for the most part. Legality and authenticity over this newly discovered painting, and the top executives were hardly the shyest when it concerned the vast amount of funds they expended to win their bid.

A woman enters the scene. A rather timid-looking brunette, her long hair tied to a French braid bun and tied with a red silk ribbon. She wore large, rounded spectacles that would sometimes slip past her nose bridge, and she would need to awkwardly shift the books she carried with one arm as she adjusted herself. A plain employee, hardly comparable to the many higher-ups shown thus far, but privileged enough that she could bear witness to the painting as it was preparing for its public debut.

And as it appeared, the brunette had a deep fascination for past era art pieces. "I can't believe it," she said with slow, restrained breaths of excitement. "I can't believe I'm actually standing here in person! There's hardly been any documented record, in all history, of Viliberto Marsella Lo Pietra ever visiting the countryside. He hardly ever left his hometown through most of his life. Do you suppose it answers the theories about his hidden mistress? Perhaps a secret hideaway for them?"

It was not until the brunette actress recited a few more lines that made Miku shoot straight up in her seat. "Wait a second!" she blurted out.

"You okay?" Raiha glanced over.

"No! It's not that! That girl on the screen—that's Ichika's character! That's HER!"

"Huh?!" They all leaned forward. Perhaps it was some combination of the slower exposition, the occasional glances at their phone, and the lack of English-to-Japanese subtitles that trimmed off bits of their attention, but the more they examined the glasses-wearing brunette on the screen, the more the familiar details began to stand out. The shapes and contours of her face, from chin to jawline to cheeks to nose; the shape of her eyes that were altered by makeup and false lashes; the way she conducted herself whenever her attention was called—it was all beginning to make sense.

"THAT's Ichika?!" Nino exclaimed. "Wait, her English sounds really good now! Where did her accent go?!"

"She didn't tell you guys anything about the movie?" Raiha asked.

Itsuki shook her head. "She was under a non-disclosure agreement during filming. We don't know anything about this one. In fact, we haven't seen a lot of her new films recently. They haven't been released outside of the America."

"The ones we have seen," added Nino, "she normally played Asian-American characters. She said it helped with passing off her accent, but I can't believe she's gotten this much better. Is that even possible?"

"Wait, then that means this girl on the cover…" Yotsuba picked up the disk cover on front of them. "That means Ichika is the leading actress! They're the same!"

Miku stared at the scree and then to the disk cover. "Wait a minute… the girl on the cover? That doesn't make sense. The shot is too far away to see the girl's face. The only face you can see is…"

They turned their attention back to the screen. A crowd had gathered at the museum, prepared for the public unveiling of the lost art piece of a famed painter that existed centuries ago. The camera stops. The shot focuses. Through the mass of faces and in between shoulders. Closer. Close-up. Close enough so that the complexion of her face lay right before the camera, staring straight into the eyes of her audience.

The face of Isabella W. Clark—played by the up and coming Nakano Ichika—grows pale.

She slowly takes off her glasses and imagines the places where her hair would fall over her shoulders if she were to undo her bun.

Staring back at her was the centuries-old portrait of an unnamed woman.

A woman that looked completely identical to her.

「 A Beautiful Splatter 」  —  00:49:57 / 1:28:47

For the next thirty minutes, the film had devolved to closely-observed madness. Insanity. They followed Isabella's six days descent into paranoia, and the lines of reality that blurred around her. Unfamiliar vestiges would creep through her home. She would wake from terrible sounds that crept into her dreams. And in those dreams, she dreamt that she was a woman blissfully in love. A woman seated on a painter's stool, nearby the opened window that carried the rich scent of lilies and vanilla orchids. She would be told how lovely the rosy shades of her lips looked when pouting at the sunlight. He, the faceless painter behind his canvas, would tell her how softly her hair swayed against the wind, and every time, the young woman would remember how much she was truly in love.

And as those lines blurred, the real Isabella would ask herself the same thing.

Why was the woman in the old painting so strikingly similar to her?

Everything from the mole on her cheek to the way she candidly smiled in her own personal photos. It was all too similar. If she had not known any better, Isabella would have thought she was looking into a mirror. A mirror that lead to the distant past—to a woman with no name.

Questions lead to obsession. Obsession teetered her to the brink of insanity. It looked as if it had been days since she last slept, or taken any care of herself as she paced through the scattered pages that littered the floor of her study. Books, encyclopedias, articles, web pages—everything that could have pinpointed this mysterious woman that the famous Viliberto Marsella Lo Pietra had painted. But her search would always turn cold. It was as if this woman had never existed.

On the second day, the presence grew louder. It came to the point that she feared staring into the mirror, fearful of what shadow may loom behind her. She quit her job and avoided any word of the news, as they all would remind her of that now-dreadful painting that plagued her mind. Her friends, neighbors, and former coworkers grew worried, so naturally, she had to shut them out as well.

The scenes would occasionally shift to show glimpses of the world outside her apartment. There were other major characters that closely investigated the factors surrounding the portrait. A museum executive, who foolishly disregarded superstitious rumors of the painting. A former coworker of the museum, who secretly harbored feelings for Isabella and wished to know more about her sudden change in behavior. A rogue member of the expedition team, who returned to the original site to find answers, only to meet a tragic end by an unknown entity.

Isabella was alone now. Only herself, and the comfort of her own voice. Speech turned to monologue as she fumbled about her now-messy apartment, muttering words that seemed closer and closer to madness as the minutes ticked by. Every bit of Isabella's unsettling sequence was portrayed so vividly. So methodical in the mind of a madwoman that all that would stare at the screen would become entranced. Nakano Ichika was always praised, and yet, she still shattered expectations. Truly, a performance to marvel. A woman you could never take your eyes off of. And by the time any of the viewers in the Nakano apartment had realized it, a whole thirty minutes had passed without much conversation between them. It was just enthralled silence.

"It's my turn now."

The words sent shivers down Isabella's spine. The raw fear and emotion in her eyes was captured in spectacular fashion, undoubtedly by the talented set that laid behind the camera. So inexplicably surreal that it sent a chain reaction of screams through the entire Nakano apartment.

"You girls!" Nino shouted, slamming the pause button on the remote. "What was that?! You scared the hell out of me!"

"I got scared because Yotsuba jumped," said Miku.

"Well, I jumped because Itsuki screamed out of nowhere!" Yotsuba retorted.

Raiha simply raised her brow, unfazed.

"Ugh! I can't take this anymore!" Itsuki stood up, still clutching the blanket in her hands. She could feel her heart racing and a thin line of sweat trailing down her forehead. "Th—this movie is way too scary! It's nothing at all like the horror stuff Ichika did before! It seems so… it's just too much!"

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my room. I'm going to bed."

"But what about the movie?"

"I can't take anymore of it! I'm going to go up to my—" Itsuki paused, staring upward at the darkened hallway that made for their five separate rooms, and the darkened stairs that lead up to them. Without saying another word, she slowly made her way back to the couch, covering most of her eyes behind her bangs and her blanket before they resumed the movie.

Back in the movie, Ichika's character had fumbled with a kitchen knife as she heard that sinister whisper behind her ear. In a panic, she brandished the knife into her immediate surroundings, but found that she was still all alone in her cluttered apartment. Her short frenzy with the kitchen knife had resulted in an accidental gash across the back of her hand, which she hurriedly applied aid to. The sight of her own blood that stained the bathroom towel made her feel nauseous, and she later retired for the evening.

The next morning, Isabella would wake to the police knocking at her door.

That very night, the beautiful and priceless painting of the unnamed woman had been vandalized.

And on that woman's hand was a crimson splatter.

「 A Beautiful Splatter 」  —  01:08:35 / 1:28:47

In her madness, superstitions neighbored closely to fact. Surely it had to be something like that. Some form of transcendental karma from a past life, or perhaps, some ancient curse that had been set upon her for reasons she could not comprehend. Or perhaps it truly was madness. The police officers that questioned her seemed to think so, despite all her protests that she was completely and desperately fine.

Six days. That was how long it took the woman named Isabella W. Clark to be seen as a madwoman by all those around her. In her desperation, she demonstrated self-harm to prove that she and the painting were one. Blood dripped from her fingers and onto the concrete as she demanded the museum staff to reveal the portrait once more. To remove the black cloth that covered the mirror of her soul, and bring revelation to all the new scars that lined her skin. To see what more beautiful splatters shall stain the hideous look of her own reflection. But who would trust the words of a madwoman?

Her family wished for her to be put away. For her sake, as they had said. On the night she was escorted to her asylum, Isabella truly did break. Her words were that of a temptress, drawing in the male guard just close enough so that she may snatch the keys from his belt. It was not her fault that he began to retaliate. She had no choice but to kill him.

Yes, she simply had no choice.

That same night, she found her way into the museum. She had worked there before, and to her amusement, the system had yet to fully clear her from accessing the building. The lights flickered, and she dragged herself all the way to the dreaded exhibit. Isabella was finally there. She was finally at the place where her nightmare began.

She opened the lighter in her hand.

She did not care what laid behind the cloth that covered the portrait anymore. She simply wished to see it burn, burn, and burn away. The fire warmed her; the flickers of the flame danced in her eyes as she watched it all turn to ash in front of her.

"It's my turn now."

The voice taunted her in the flames. The black cloth that draped over the painting had finally slipped away, revealing nothing within the borders of the old painting.

Nothing but an empty artist's stool.

In the final climax of the movie, the leading actress of the film would be met face-to-face with her reflection. A walking, breathing person who shared the same face as her. The same eyes, the same nose, the same lips that carried the same smile. In those final moments, it was revealed that only one could be allowed to live with their physical body.

The other shall live within the portrait. The burning and collapsing portrait.

The camera once again crept to an insidious angle, placed squarely before the main actress so that it lined perfectly to the perspective of the portrait the audience had seen since the beginning. The stare of both Isabella's—the two Nakano Ichikas that portrayed her character so spectacularly—looking far beyond the eyes of the viewer, but through the flesh and bones, and into the soul.

And for the horrified girls on the other end of the screen, it was as if they gazed into a mirror.

They hardly moved until Raiha flicked on the lights, causing them to jolt. The young high school girl could barely hold in her excitement, shaking as she said, "Oh… my… god! That film was AMAZING!"

"Now hold on," said Nino, still shaken by the climax of the movie. "THAT was the plot twist?! Really?"

"Why? Was it too predictable? I wasn't expecting it at all. I didn't think there was a ghost in the picture the whole time, trying to take over Ichika-neesans's body. And the way they revealed two Ichikas at the end, I was—oh." Raiha stopped, realizing just what Nino had meant. "Ohhh…."

"Well…" Miku chuckled to herself, as if trying to find something to fill the silence. "They… did a really good job with the CG, huh? I guess that's Hollywood production value for you. Heh… "

"R—Right?" Nino followed. "How do you think they did it? Especially the umm… you know, the chase scene through the museum. You saw how one of them grabbed the hair of the other one, right? It looked so… realistic."

"Which one did you think was the real Isabella at the end?" Raiha asked. "Because I'm starting to form some theories."

"I—I'm not sure, ha ha…" Miku said. "Nino is better than me with English, so maybe she picked up on some more clues."

"I kind of don't want to think about it too much right now," said Nino. "I'm still a little overwhelmed over everything. The ending was too intense."

"Gosh…" Yotsuba tugged the hood of her onesie, drawing the flaps close beside her cheeks. "My hands are still shaking. It sounds so scary! Imagine one day meeting your doppleganger."

"Yeah…" Miku raised a brow. "'Imagine.'"

"And they start saying things like how they want to take over your body and pretend to be you. Who would even know, right? They look just like you, they talk like you, wear the same clothes. It's almost like… wait!" Yotsuba shot to her feet. "You girls! Isn't that almost like…!"

They all sighed, but as the fourth sister continued with her late revelation, the rest of them could not help but laugh. Anything to remind themselves that it was all just a movie. A fabrication that followed a script, played by actors, and edited by a crew, with the sole purpose of shocking and unsettling its viewers, and if they wanted acknowledgment for it, then neither sister would have hesitated to validate them with guilty praise. But for now, the most they could do was laugh it off.

"What did you think, Itsuki-neechan?" Raiha nudged the woman beside her. "Itsuki-nee—"

"AHH!" The blankets burst from one cluttered mess to another, flinging crumbs and wrappers aside. It quickly startled the rest of them, causing another chain- reaction of shrieks until the red hues of Itsuki's messy hair popped out from under the covers. "Don't scare me like that!" she yelled.

"Were you hiding under there the whole time?" Miku looked to her, then glanced to her side of the coffee table. "Wait a minute, are those my headphones? What are you… when did you…?"

"Sorry." Itsuki crawled out of the covers. Her tired eyes scanned the room, drawing a relieved breath as she saw the turned-off television. "Is umm… is the movie over? Are we done?"

"So that's why you were so quiet towards the end," said Nino. "I hope you were cozy in there, Itsuki."

"I'm sorry. I thought I could handle it, but it was just too much for me. Ah… I'm going to lose a lot of sleep tonight, I just know it." Itsuki sheepishly twiddled her fingers, looking once more at her sisters. Their silence shared the same sentiments, and after a short time, Itsuki asked, "So… whose room are we all sleeping in tonight?"

Bright lights embellished the hotel lobby. A grand room with walls and pillars that stretched far overhead, its tall ceiling hung with silver tassels and golden chandeliers like showers of avarice. On the nearby window, a thin frame of frost set. Enough coldness so that the glass turned slightly opaque, cloud whatever reflection could be made of his face as he gazed outward. As the owner of Tokai's largest hospital, Nakano Maruo was no stranger to nights spent away from home, booked from one business conference to the next. Tokyo was just one of many such places. He frequented this hotel whenever his travels would deliver him to this restless city, so much so that he even had his own reserved room on the thirty-seventh floor. Though, he hardly could enjoy the leisure—not when his time was so precious.

His phone buzzed. Another reminder.

"Now then," Maruo said, leaning his back onto the lobby chair. "I do not have much time. What is it that you need from me, Uesugi-kun?"

Chapter Text

By midmorning, a listless susurration had fallen over the set. Idle noise to make for the idle conversations that floated through the room, collected to indiscriminate murmurs as the minutes trailed by. From the nearby doorway, a brisk wind found its way through the pages of a script, left alone off the corner of a makeshift vanity. It carelessly glanced past the exposition, skimmed through the impassioned words that sparked the rising action, and perused up to the very precipice that made for the climax, only to be halted under the press of a woman's fingertips as the pages teetered furthest off the edge. The cold still lingered. A tiny bite to send-off the final, fleeting days of winter; another little shiver to draw the lapels of her coat closer together over her chest.

The pages collected back in her hand, and she quickly sought the page she had last left off, as she went to close the door. Her teeth clenched the tip of her nail, muttering a sound of annoyance. It should have been somewhere around here. The fifty-second page of one hundred and ten, where she, with a pen in hand, had drawn yet another mark underneath her scripted lines, circling over the words and decorating the neighboring whitespace with multiple question marks. The stage directions were hardly any different, and she furrowed her brow, trying to make any sense of it.

"Watch your step, Ms. Nakano," a passing crewman warned, just in time for her to stop and glance near her heels. In her fixation over the details of her script, Ichika had not realized that she had crossed over a bundle of camera wires, sprawled haphazardly across the floor.

"Oh, thank you," Ichika said, taking a step to the side. "That would have been a bit embarrassing. But isn't it dangerous to have the wires all out in the walkway like this?"

"Yeah, well, one of the interns should have handled that by now."

"Where are they now?"

"Probably slacking off somewhere is my guess, just like everyone else here." The man snorted and continued to roll his equipment cart back to the other side of the set, as if it hardly were an issue.

Today, their film set was located at a grandiose hotel, renowned across all of Beverly Hills as a venue for many upscale events. Its ballroom was the epitome of luxury and lavishness, with a grand ceiling embellished with intricate chandeliers, whose golden surfaces gleamed brightly from the surrounding lights. It was said that the bride and groom that shared their first dance together as newlyweds, underneath the main chandelier on their wedding night, would feel themselves prancing among stars that shined brightly for them. If it were instead the site for a gathering among socialites, then the charming host or hostess had just the right floor to saunter from one esteemed guest to the next, exchanging glasses of champagne between fingers decorated in gold and silver rings. And if it were a dinner party, then the guest of honor had just the right background to stand forth, proper and prominent, as they addressed their fellow friends and associates with a toast of their wineglass to whatever fiscal fortunes await them.

Ichika had more than enough time to marvel over the venue when she had first arrived—bright and early, as a matter of fact, that she had even surprised herself. The young actress woke that morning with high spirits. She could not quite put it into words, but today's schedule seemed to promise good things for her. The air was pleasant and crisp during her morning jog, and the ample time from her early rise had allowed her to loiter in her morning shower. During breakfast, she had finally perfected the fold of her eggs, for the first time since trying the new recipe. And when she took her first sip of morning coffee, the rich flavor of a perfect brew spoke promises of a perfect day.

Now, however, all of those good omens seemed so much like a distant memory. Listlessness and lethargy had seeped into the room. It was in the dragged footsteps of actors with nothing of importance to do. It lined in the sweat of the crewmen who did not know what to do. It polluted the air of the ballroom, forcing its way to an unsuspected sigh that slipped off her lips as she made her way through the set. By now they should have wrapped up rehearsal and have done a few practice shoots for the scenes, but the lens caps had hardly budged from their cameras. They were way behind schedule.

Soon after Ichika closed the door, it had opened right back again, revealing a tired-looking woman carrying a clipboard. She wore a black cap, slacks, and a black long-sleeve shirt that read 'CREW' in large letters across the back.

"Abigail!" said Ichika, folding back the script. "Did you find her?"

"Y… yes…" the woman replied, breathless. "She is… she is coming into the building now. Behind me."

"Where did you find her?"

"At the, uh, she was at the gym."

Ichika flinched. "Sorry, the… gym? What do you mean she was at the—"

The rest of the double-doors spread open, pushed aside with both of the dark-haired woman's arms as she boldly stepped into the film set. At the same time, she called everyone's attention with loud claps to her hands. "Alright, alright, people! Let's get this show on the road! Your director is here!"

The nearby crewmen spoke a few words of greetings to her and mumbled a few reserved words amongst themselves. "Come on, people! Where is your spirit?! I said, I am HERE!"

They replied again, barely louder. The woman shrugged, and after taking a quick glance around the set, she gestured a few things to Abigail before sending her away with a set of vaguely described tasks. "Erika, hold on," Ichika said, following closely behind her.

"Huh?" The director turned. "Oh, Ichika! You're already here. What's up?"

"I… um—yes, I am, but that's not really…" Ichika scrunched her brow. She did not know where exactly where she should begin. "Of course I'm already here. All of us have been for hours now. Rehearsals were supposed to begin in the morning, remember?"

"It was?"

"Yes. At around nine-thirty. It's almost one now."

"Where did it say that?"

Ichika paused. "In the… email? The one that you sent to the entire cast?"

To her immediate surprise, Erika laughed, "Oh, whoops!" and as if nothing happened, she tugged her gym bag and continued to the back rooms. "Hah. My bad."

"'Whoops?'" Ichika raised her brow, still following. "A lot of us were worried! No one knew where you were and you weren't answering your phone. Where have you been?"

"I thought Abby told you; I was at the gym."

Ichika looked at her friend as if there was something she could have possibly missed by the way Erika had plainly answered her. "But… why?" Ichika asked.

"Burgers don't just 'disappear' from your waistline, Ichika." Erika gestured over her exposed midriff, pinching her own skin as if the toned shape of her abdominals could have possibly harbored a shred of fat. "You know, you should really join me sometime. My gym let's me scan in a plus-one, and I could really use a spotter."

Again, Ichika found herself lost in where she should begin. "That's not what I meant. You're the director here, and I don't mean to tell you how to do your job or anything, but doesn't this all seem so… disorganized? A few of the crewmen from this morning have already walked out, and no one knows what we're supposed to be doing."

Erika shrugged. "Don't worry about them. We'll make do with who and what we have."

"But we're already understaffed as it is."

"I think we have enough."

"They don't seem very motivated, though."

"That's what the free alcohol is for!"

Two crewmen crossed their paths, carrying a large stage prop from both ends, which Erika ducked under; meanwhile Ichika waited patiently for them to pass before catching up with Erika. "About that too—are you sure that's really a good idea? I spoke with one of the camera crew members earlier, and I might be wrong, but it seemed like he was already drunk."

"You worry over the tiniest things, Ichika." Erika nudged her shoulder. "I've had sets where things were a lot like this. Things usually work out, one way or another. Mostly."

"I can understand where you're coming from, but… I don't know. I just want to help make sure that your first-ever film does well. It's your debut as a director, after all! That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." Ichika drew out the script that she was holding under her arm, flipping to the marked pages of the script she had been glancing over earlier. Though Ichika could not admit it, her message could have been a lot more clear if she just handed Erika the whole script. "Do you see these lines over here?"

"Hmm?" Erika leaned over. "What about them?"

"Doesn't it feel a little… 'off' to you? When you told me two nights ago that you were just making'a few small changes', I was expecting something like a few different lines I had to memorize, but this is entirely different to the character I've been rehearsing for the past few weeks. She seems like an entirely different character, and there are some lines that contradict the story."

"Really? Like where? Actually, wait—hold that thought. I think the sound crew might need my help with something, so you're gonna have to make this quick."

Ichika fidgeted with the script. There were too many elements that she wanted to discuss with Erika to even consider any of it being 'quick'. In fact, that was exactly what she told Erika, "I don't think I can. I feel like every one of my lines are just plot holes. Why can't we just stick with my original lines?"

"Nope. Uh uh." Erika shook her head. "No can do, Ichika. The Songbird is a vital character to the scene." She closed one eye, drawing two, inverse L-shaped gestures over her face like a camera shot, panning right over to the face of the pink-haired actress who still did not look any less perplexed since she first spoke with her. "The Songbird is supposed to be mysterious. Enigmatic. Alluring. Sexy. She captures eyes of everyone in the ballroom the moment she steps in, and her lines to need to exactly how I envision it to make that work. Just trust me; stick with what's on the script."

Ichika gave a halfhearted smile. Even if Erika was her friend and had been a tremendous help to her so far, there have been times where Ichika was a little cautious about Erika and her decision-making skills. "I really hope you're right," said Ichika, sighing. "But I do think that things could be a lot smoother. For me and the rest of the team. And between you and me, I am speaking on the behalf of a few other members. According to them, you can be a little… intimidating."

Erika laughed, as if that was exactly what she wanted to hear. "Don't you worry one bit. I'll get this place—and all of these good-for-nothing slackers—whipped into shape in no time."

Ichika flipped to another page. "Though there is another thing I've been concerned about, Erika. It's about—"

"HOLD ON! I HEAR YA!" Erika shouted over her shoulder. "I'm coming there, alright? Give, me like, a minute! Okay, what's the issue, Ichika?"

"It's about my character's last lines. See this part I circled here?"

"Whoa, you circled a lot of stuff."

"Well, like I said, there were a lot of contradictions and plot holes and—that's not the point I'm trying to make right now. I'm talking about this part here. See? In the original script The Songbird was supposed to leave the main character's question unanswered, and we were suppposed to transition to another scene/"

"Uh huh. Yeah, that should be correct."

"Then why is it structured like I have some more lines? Look at the next page of the script." Ichika flipped one page over. There were a few stage directions and some cues for the camera pans to go with some lines to fill the remainder of the scene, ending with space reserved for the final bits of dialogue to wrap up the scene.

And the lines wrote—

「  Nakano Ichika  」 :

"The lines are blank," Ichika said. "And why does it say 'Nakano Ichika' instead of 'The Songbird'?"

"Oh. Shoot. Yeah, that was a placeholder."

"So, it was just a printing error? The lines too?"

"Nah, I'm preeetty sure they're supposed to be lines there. Why don't you check with the others' scripts?"

"I did and it—"

"Erika!" A man's voice called out from across the room. "It's been a minute already! We seriously need you here!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Erika shouted back, and turned to Ichika. "I gotta see what the sound crew is bitching about, so we'll talk later, okay?"

"Wait, but this is really important. There has to be a page missing, right? I asked the other actors, and their scripts were the same thing. There isn't—"

"Look, I really gotta go."

"Well, then what am I supposed to say here?"

"Just do whatever you think works! You'll know when the time comes!"

"I… what? What does that mean? Hey! Erika, wait up! Erika?!"

Like a splash of cold water, the late arrival of their director had sent a jolt through the idle bodies of the film crew. Within minutes, all the camera equipment had been powered on and every crew-member desperately found some way to make themselves useful. They sauntered, shuffled, and scrambled, until the listless susurration devolved to an all-too-familiar clamor. Loud, disorderly clamor, albeit with a larger sense of purpose, as far as Ichika could tell.

An equipment cart rolled past her and Ichika excused herself from the thick of the busybodies. There was still a lot of preparation work to be done, and an actress would do well to make use of her own time. In most scenarios, that would mean some more personal time spent face-to-face in front of the dressing room mirror with her script in hand. She was already halfway there. The script was still bundled in her hand, but strangely enough, the young actress could not find the will to rehearse the lines. At least, not immediately.

"Fuutarou-kun probably wished I took notes like these back in school," Ichika quietly joked to herself, if only to mask a sigh. She flipped through more pages and more of her doubts inked the white of the page. The lines that made up Deceitfully Yours—a romance screenplay set between two secret agents of opposing countries—were something like a hollow shell. It had words, it had stage directions. It had music, it had drama, it had action. And for some reason, it all felt hollow.

Ichika straightened herself, holding the script in front of her as she faced the mirror in the lounge room. Something—anything—to inspire the words in her voice so that it truly came from The Songbird. She had to feel the story. Embrace it. Embody it.

When she closed her eyes, however, she could not picture the grace of the ballroom and all the servers that gathered under the crystal chandelier. She could not feel the gentle sway of The Songbird's dress as it touched against her legs. A heaviness set upon her heels, as if her dance was lead by an amateur. The music faded to muffles; the singer fell monotone. And when she spoke her lines, the words could not have been further from her own heart.

An actress thrived off her lies. She reveled in the praise that came from distortion. She birthed new lives with a twist of her tongue, and ended them when the cameras stopped rolling. In these short years that made her professional career, Ichika had assumed the faces of many. Their past and their present, and the future where the credits rolled. She found meaning in the words that made the young lover, the backstabber, the heroine. But when she faced the mirror again and let the words fall from her lips—

It all felt so painfully hollow.

"Someone looks a little bothered. Need someone to cheer you up, cutie?" Ichika had been so focused on her lines that she had not noticed one of her co-stars entering the lounge. A tall man dressed in a graphite suit, with blonde medium-length hair curled to the side. Past the length of his long lashes were bright blue eyes, settling to a soft gaze as he met hers. He leaned one hand on the table, and in a poor attempt, the man said to her, "Ko-ni-chi-wa."

It took every last bit of patience from Ichika to not roll her eyes. "James. Hello," she said, and without missing a beat, she continued, "did you need something from me?"

"I wouldn't say no to a smile," James quickly replied.

Quietly, Ichika groaned. If it were not one thing going wrong with this set, then surely there had to be another problem. Terrible scheduling, poor script quality, and now, troublesome colleagues. Ichika could never understand why Erika casted someone like James as the main lead—though, that may as well have been her own personal bias speaking. Regrettably, James was a tremendous actor. A young heartthrob in his late-twenties, known for his stern and resolute characters in all the action and drama films he had starred in, while, most importantly, performing his own stunts.

In front of the camera, he was dazzling. He was the hero, the savior, the charmer. But in person, Ichika could only see James as—for lack of a better word—a nuisance. Harmless, but still a nuisance. It had already been a whole year since the two of them met, and all the young actress could think about was how James was still basically the same. That same cocky and full-of-himself man that tried his hardest to hit on her when she was but a fledgling in a foreign land.

She had hoped that would have been the first and last time they had spoken to each other, but that eventually turned to wishful thinking the day Ichika found out they would be starring in the same film. For now, she only wanted to be brief. "Your corsage is crooked," Ichika said, and left for the refreshments table.

James callously followed. "Whoops. Silly me. So, fixing yourself up a drink? What'll it be—red or white wine? Or are you more of a beer-drinking girl?"

"Coffee."

"Coffee?" He took notice at the script—still opened—on Ichika's palm, reading as she poured herself a cup of coffee. James chuckled. "Whoa, someone's hard at work. You look like you're cramming for a test or something."

"Erika—er, I mean, the director, made a lot of adjustments my lines last minute," Ichika answered, sipping her coffee."Sorry, but I've got a lot to deal with right now, so I can't really chat for long."

"Then we can make it brief, and save the longer one for later."

"Shouldn't you be on-set soon, 'lead actor'?" Ichika did not even consider his proposal. "The director is probably wondering where you are."

"She won't be disappointed if she knew I was here practicing, too."

"Practicing? Practicing what?"

The persistent man switched to a ballroom dancer's pose, drawing one leg back and gesturing with his gloved hand. In the same motion, he pulled down his costume prop—a masquerade mask that was fixed on the brim of his dark venetian hat. "I was thinking the two of us could go over our little slow dance scene again."

"I think we've rehearsed that enough."

James shook his head. "No, I think there's still a lot more I could learn from you, Ichika. You're quite the dance partner."

Ichika sighed. "James, I thought I told y—"

"Please. Call me Jimmy."

She ignored him. "I thought I told you; I have a boyfriend."

"Whoa, whoa, I don't mean for you to misinterpret," James casually stood back up, still carrying a slight smile on his face. "Of course I remember. We're simply two co-stars getting to know each other a little more. They say the camera captures chemistry, after all."

Ichika raised a brow.

"I swear," James said, raising a hand. "Just some friendly conversation; nothing more."

Again, Ichika sighed. There was not as single part of her that trusted his sentiments, but it hardly seemed worth it to openly doubt him—not if it meant prolonging a conversation. "Okay," she said, returning to her script, "then we'll leave it at that. But as I said, I don't have a ton of time to chat. We're behind schedule and everyone is scrambling. I need to get back to the script before we start filming."

"A word of advice, though."

"What is it?"

James smiled, placing his hands in his suit pockets. "Take it easy a little. There's no need to work yourself so hard on something that's gonna flop."

Ichika stopped. "What do you mean by that? What's going to flop?"

"Come on. There's no way you haven't noticed. Or if you haven't, then I'm surprised it took someone this long to tell you." James shook his head in a sort of pitying way. "You've seen how the set is. You've seen how the attitude is around here. This movie is a disaster in the making,"

"How… how can you say that?"

"Ah, that's right. Your character's doesn't show up until this part of the movie, right? Then I guess I can't blame you." He looked over the room, then to the doorway, where a few technicians rolled another cart down the hall. "It's been like this ever since day one. Erika always shows up late, her directions don't make any sense. The script is a cheesy mess, and the crew is a bunch of amateurs. I hear most of them are in it just for the graduation credits."

"That's…" Ichika fidgeted with the script in her hands. It was opened to one of the many pages she marked-up to the point where it looked as if there was more handwritten ink than the printed lines. "Isn't that sort of wrong?"

Her co-star shrugged. "Don't get me wrong. Erika is probably one of the most talented and well-connected actresses to have graduated from our institute, but it's completely different when it comes to directing a film. I'm only here because I owe her a favor."

"You don't care how this movie ends up?"

He answered in a way that left no room for lies, even when Ichika had come to expect nothing less from him. Just one time where she wished she could doubt his honesty. "We're not exactly required to care, you know."

Ichika fell silent. For a moment, the young actress could almost see herself as the foolish one here. If it were just one other person—even if it were someone as obnoxious and overbearing as this colleague of hers—Ichika thought that a fellow actor would at least share some of her sentiments. Just a little to, if only to prove that she was not the strange one here for trying so hard. She wanted to believe it.

She thought of those callow days she first held a script in her hand. Of the times she first auditioned; the times where she first flipped through the bundled pages in her hand. She thought of her first rejection letter, the second, the third, the tenth. By some miracle, she was able to catch the eye of Oda Talent Productions. By some miracle, she found herself all the way here. Dreams were what made for miracles. The wishes and desires that always felt so far from her reach. It was the distant stars she gazed upon as the lowly amateur, the novice, the no-name. It was the light that gleamed in her eyes whenever she faced the camera. No matter where in life she may be, and whatever fame and accolade would ever embellish her name, Nakano Ichika would never forget what made for the cracks in this bumpy road called stardom. Many precious memories that kept her humble. Many more blessings she had, and forever will, count on.

And perhaps that was what made her the weird one here. The overachiever. The fool. Every role in every film, she dedicated nothing short of everything to the character depicted within the script. Her voice belonged to the name written in black ink, whose words separated with whitespace and a colon. If someone who was meant to be her equal thought any less of that idea, then there was not much else for her to say. Slowly, Ichika shook her head. "I expected better from you, James."

"Pardon?"

"You are the lead here, James. The lead. Whether you're aware of it or not, everyone's eyes are on you today. Not me, not the director—you. The lead should be the one who sets an example for everyone."

"The film is dead-on-arrival, Ichika. There's no saving a dumpster fire, even if we did our jobs perfectly. Every actor has 'that one bad film'."

"I'm disappointed." Her words were like a brick wall, placed flatly in front of James's nose that he could not help but stiffen. Her eyes drew to narrow gaze, as if there were no longer any formalities between them as colleagues, much less equals, that made the air turn cold. "Forgive me, but as an actress, I am honestly disappointed calling you my co-star. You should be better than that."

Her gaze did not waver, not even as her colleague's shifted for a moment. Something about James's face made it seem like he was still trying to find a way to laugh and say that he was kidding, but when he opened his mouth to speak, all that would come out was the bare remnants of a chuckle. Thankfully for them, the assistant director appeared at the doorway. "James," Abigail said. "We're about to start filming soon."

"R—right!" James said, straightening himself. "I'll be right there."

As he departed, Ichika took it upon herself to find someplace else where she could be. The main rooms had grown noisier now that they were finally beginning to film. Dressers and make-up artists darted past her, preparing for one last check before the cameras started rolling. If they had taken a moment to glance at the young actress, then they would have questioned the rosy tints to her face as she made room for them. To Ichika's relief, they did not, and she was able to freely bury her face in her palm as she left the room.

She calmly breathed. She had found her way to a lone balcony, a staircase away from the rabble of the main set. There was a slight warmth to her cheek as she touched it, and the back of her throat felt slightly heavy. The script laid on the table inside. Focusing seemed impossible now that she had worked herself up, and as she faced the cold open air, there was just one thing seemed to put her mind at ease. Her wristwatch drew over her face as she leaned on the gilded rails, eyeing the two dials. Two p.m. That would mean it would be somewhere close to…

"Hello?"

"You answered." Ichika leaned on her palm, smiling. Speaking in her native tongue was a pleasure she got less these days, with there being so much work. "I thought it might have been a little early for you, Fuutarou-kun."

"It's fine here. Let me see, it's supposed to be somewhere around…" She heard the light taps of Fuutarou's fingers against the screen as he fumbled around."Ah. About early afternoon. Isn't today supposed to be your…?"

"Filming?"

"Yeah, your film shoot. For Sasaki-san's film. Are you on a break right now?"

"Something like that, I guess. I don't have any parts for the first half of today's scene, which we originally planned to shoot in the early evening. At this rate, it might be a lot later." Ichika sighed.

"Everything okay?"

"It's fine. The shoot is going well and—no, they're not. If I were being completely honest, things are a bit of a… mess right now. A total mess. We're way behind schedule and nothing seems to be going right. And I kind of lost my temper a bit with a co-star and I can't concentrate and—" Ichika stopped herself with a halfhearted laugh. "Sorry, do you have some time on you to hear me vent a little?"

"I am. You know I always will, Ichika. Did something bad happen?"

"You're the sweetest, Fuutarou-kun. And no. It's nothing like that. It's just that ever since this morning, no, even before that…" Now that she had his complete and undivided attention, Ichika entered a bitter perorate over the recent troubles and misfortunes that plagued the production of Deceitfully Yours. She started back as far as a few weeks ago, rambling about the many vague expectations that had been laid out for the project. She lamented over the many malfunctions of their rehearsals and practice shoots. She grieved for the good omens from that very morning, and the tragic death they suffered by midmorning. Even the things that seemed so minor at the time had slowly built up her frustrations, finding irritability in things she never knew bothered her for this long. The script, the schedule, the susurration. The people, her coworkers—even her own friend whom she deeply respected for all of the help she had given thus far. Ichika hated to admit, but there was some truth to what James had said, even if his resolutions were nowhere near agreeable. The film had every quality—every warning sign that made for a future disaster, and everyone else was oblivious.

"…and I don't know what came over me," Ichika continued, "but I really couldn't stand hearing that from him, and—I don't know—I kind of just, went off on him like that. I mean, we're both actors, right? Shouldn't we take pride in all of our works? All of our performances? Or am I the weird one here? I got so annoyed that I had to leave for a bit. I don't know if I should have said anything, but I—" Ichika groaned, burying her forehead into arms. "Sorry. I'm not being the coolest person right now, huh? This stopped being a short rant a long time ago."

She heard a light chuckle from the other end of the line. "Wow, that sounds like a lot of annoying things to deal with. And don't worry; it's all fine, Ichika. If you need something off your chest, then you only need to call."

"You're too good to me, Fuutarou-kun."

"It's the least I can do. So, what else is on your mind?"

"I really don't know. I mean, the last thing I want to be is negative about the whole thing, but would it kill anyone to take some responsibility here? Erika has been acting so weird lately." She muttered a sound of annoyance, enunciated a little more so that her partner across the line could picture the pout on her lips. "It sometimes feels like I'm the only one taking this seriously. Is there something here I'm not getting? Did someone get some kind of memo or something? What gives?"

"I doubt it's like that at all..."

"I know, but it sure feels like that sometimes." Ichika leaned back, sighing.

"Who knows? Maybe things might start making sense eventually."

"I hope so. I really do. Anyway, thanks for listening. I just needed to get that off my chest."

"It's no problem at all. Actually, it's kind of nice to hear that side about this side of you from time to time, Ichika."

"Ahh, so me being inconvenienced is somehow cute to you, huh? Have you become some kind of sadist or something, Fuutarou-kun?"

"I—It's not like that. I meant that it's kind of… humbling, in a way that you—"

"I know. I'm just joking." She laughed. "But really, I do feel a lot better now. Thanks again. Now, that aside, I don't want this whole thing to be just me complaining to you. How have things been going with you, Fuutarou-kun?"

"Me?" Fuutarou hummed his thoughts over the phone. "Hmm… nothing much. Things have been more or less the same as they've always been in Tokyo."

"Well, that's because you're not the kind of guy who goes out a lot. A real stick in the mud."

"You can't see me, but I feel like I should tell you that I'm rolling my eyes."

Ichika laughed. "But really? Nothing at all?"

"Nothing I can think of. At least, if we're talking about this past week. Oh, but I did mention it a little a while ago. When I was back home, I paid a visit to Nino and Miku's shop."

"Ah, that's right! How are the two of them doing? How's the place?"

"Oh, the place looks amazing!" Fuutarou responded in one of the most spirited tones Ichika had heard from him. "They've been working their butts off since they opened. It wasn't too busy when I stopped by, so we had a lot of time to catch up. Have they sent you pictures of the place?"

"Nino still makes sure to send me something every day." Ichika went through her gallery. In a little square named'Home', a plethora of tiled thumbnails populated her screen. Everything from food plates, outings, outfits, group photos, candid photos, and the boundless, familiar comfort of an apartment room on the thirtieth floor. As she scrolled to the recent images from the few months, a majority of them were of the newly established, Nakano's: Café & Bakery, from its early conception to the cozy, little still-slightly-work-in-progress shop that it was today. In a way, it was like a timeline, and Ichika made sure to keep an attentive eye to the details, knowing how many dreams lived behind those glass windows. "I'm sure your mom would be very proud, Fuutarou-kun."

"Yeah…" Fuutarou said, and though Ichika could not see his face, she could perfectly picture the pleasant look on his face as his voice trailed. "It's a great place. Wish I could stop by there more often, but I'm all the way out here."

"Oh, poor you." Ichika taunted. "Ah, just thinking about it makes me want to come home sooner. Those two keep sending me pics of their menu, and it never fails to make me hungry."

"I'm happy to keep bragging about the place, if it means getting you on the next plane here."

"Sorry, but you'll just have to keep being a good boy and wait for me," Ichika giggled in a way she knew would make him blush. Then, she continued, "It's getting closer, but it still feels so far. A little over half a year left…"

"Yeah, I've been making sure to count the days. It really can't come soon enough."

"Tell me about it. It's crazy to think so much has happened since then. You'll be finishing up your third year in university soon, right? Nino and Itsuki should be finishing up around the same time as you too. Nino is already managing a store, and Itsuki should be taking her teaching certification exam soon. Miku has already graduated from culinary school, and Yotsuba is going to be running the family inn soon. I feel like I'm missing out on so many important things…"

"Are you doing alright, Ichika?"

"I'm fine. I just… really miss all of you." Ichika looked at the cloudy skies above her. Somewhere far above her, Ichika could make the sounds of a plane as it passed by, its blaring engine ringing across the gray skies. "I can't wait to see you all again. I really can't. California is lovely and all, but nowhere feels right in the world if it means being this far from everyone. I just want to hurry. I want to come back to you as quickly as I can and I…" Ichika chuckled to herself. "Sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm just feeling a little sentimental right now. Feeling a lot of things, actually."

"It's the same for me, too. I miss you like crazy, Ichika. You've been gone for so long that the days feel so much slower."

Ichika stood upright, taking slow back-and-forth strides on the balcony. "Hey, so, when I do come back…"

"Hmm?"

"Well, umm… about that promise we made to each other. You know, the one about… living together."

"Ah, right. Yes, I remember."

"Are we… still on for that?" Ichika could not quite figure out what made her words so coy. That pleasant dream had stuck with them for years. From that autumn evening two years ago—overlooking the bright city lights of Tokyo that gleamed like thousands of grounded stars—where they first found a wish they both could share. For years she tenderly held onto the memory, yet it was not so often the thought found its way to words. And when they did, the blushing woman could not help but grow a little bashful as she spoke. "I'm going to need someplace comfy to crash when I get back."

"I would love nothing more," Fuutarou reassured. "Though, my place isn't the biggest, but Tappi and I can always make room for one more."

"You sure he wouldn't mind?" Ichika laughed at the idea of Fuutarou's cat somehow being the one that made the final decision, as if it were some kind of roommate interview. Then she thought of how adorable he would look in a cat-sized suit and seated on the other end of a desk. "Should I think about how to get on Tappi-kun's good side again?"

"He got used to you faster than he did with me. He even slept on your pillow for a few days after you left last time. I would come home from school and he would be curled up there."

"Jealous?"

"A little."

"Wow, you're a lot more honest than I thought." Ichika laughed. "But… yeah. I would love that."

"You sure you don't mind the place? The neighborhood isn't the greatest either, and it's still kind of far from the nearest station. And when it rains, things become a huge pain in the—"

"I'm sure, Fuutarou-kun," Ichika said confidently. "Anywhere is fine, as long as it's with you."

"Okay. If you insist. But that will only be for the short term. I've been saving and we could probably start looking into that property agency your dad mentioned. Someplace a little better than here."

"I would love that; I would absolutely love that. Guess we have a little bit of apartment-shopping to do in the future, huh?"

"Will you be alright until then?" Fuutarou asked. "There's still quite a bit of time left before you're done."

"I will be. I've made it this far just fine. If anything, I'd be more worried about you. Raiha-chan told me that your watch history is always filled with my movies on it. Even the really old ones."

"She's going on my profile again?! I keep telling her to just make her own—"

"Oh, I was just messing with you. Do you really?" Ichika burst into a fit of laughter. "That's so hilarious! I'm sorry, I just didn't think that would work so well. I need a moment."

"Ugh… I should have known. Now I'm embarrassed."

"No, no. I think it's incredibly sweet of you. I swear, if you were here right now, I'd give you the biggest kiss. I'd even let you choose where."

She heard him muffle a cough from his end of the call, and Ichika smirked. "Oh, by the way," she continued, "is it just me, or does your voice sound a lot clearer right now?"

"Clearer?"

"Yeah. Your voice just sounds a lot better right now. I can hear everything so clearly, and it sounds like you're somewhere kind of crowded? Are you out right now?"

"Ah, um, yeah I am. And that's probably because I got a new phone just recently. Your sisters kept telling me that I should have upgraded, even though the old one I had was perfectly fine."

"You were probably due for an upgrade anyway, so they did you a favor. Which model did you get? Is the camera any better? We should video chat."

"Oh, uh, maybe not right now. And I kind of forgot the model name—they're all so confusing. All I know is that it was the newer one."

"Boo. You're no fun. Why do you have the luxury of having hours of me on your TV, and yet all I have is your social media profile picture that you update every six months? You could spoil your hardworking girlfriend with just a few more pics of her favorite man, couldn't you? Hmph."

She heard a tired groan from the other side of the phone. "Ichika…"

"You know I'm just teasing." Ichika thought a moment, and a thought crossed her mind. "Hey, since we mentioned my dad, I just remembered something. It might be a bit soon, but have you heard anything from him at all?"

"Your dad?"

"Yeah, you know, about that thing you asked from him? Has there been any news?"

"Ah…" She heard Fuutarou hum to himself as he thought. "It's still a little soon, and I'd hate to pester him after only a week. I should be thankful that Nakano-san agreed to write me a letter of recommendation."

"Studying to become a doctor sounds like a lot of work," Ichika added. "It sounds like you're going to be in school forever."

"Nothing I can't handle. Six years of study at university, the license exam, and two years of a residency program. It's around this time that other students start thinking about how they'd get letters of rec. From what it looks like, it can be difficult to get into a program without one."

"Doctor Uesugi, huh? Why does that make you sound so hot?"

"Be serious, Ichika."

"I am serious!" Ichika said with a whimsical air to her voice. "But really, congratulations. It must have been quite the conversation you had with my dad. You must have been sooo nervous."

"Imagine me in my most nervous state and then think of me worse than that. That's how it's like talking to your dad." Fuutarou sighed. "And thanks. I should learn how to take compliments better."

"Mhm, you should. So, I was also thinking that—" Ichika felt a buzz beside her ear. A notification. "Ah, that much time has passed already?"

"Your break time is over?" Fuutarou asked.

"Yeah. Looks like things are really picking up quickly. I'm needed in make-up and dress soon."

"Did I take up too much of your time?" Fuutarou asked. "You were saying that you wanted to go over more of your script."

"Not at all. I'm the one who called you, remember? I think I've gone over everything I can. Besides, talking with you helped me clear my head, so thanks! I feel more like myself now."

"That's good to hear. Call me anytime, okay?"

"Yeah! Alright, I gotta get going. Love you, Fuutarou-kun!"

"Love you too, Ichika. Good luck out there."

By evening, a dainty twirl flounced the ends of her gown. Gold-colored satin traced the silhouette of her body, cut to a low off-shoulder neckline as it neared her breast. Crimped and ruched, the fabric gathered near a corner beside her waist, drawing lines and folds to accentuate the curves. Thin made thinner by the waist; widened as it spread to her hips. As she swayed, the ankle-length dress shined in bright hues of golden light. As she stepped, the garment served as a frame to the length of her left leg, slipped from a thigh-high slit.

The dresser said she was beautiful. The designer said she was breathtaking. The hair stylist called her absolutely alluring. The makeup artist told her that she could not look any more perfect. The rest were simply speechless.

And for a moment, Ichika was too.

She had played many roles—many faces that told many lies. She had pouted as the naive schoolgirl, screamed as the desperate victim, kissed as the lovestruck woman, and pleaded in the decisive moments of the heroine. Each one harbored fragments of herself. Facets of every emotion that the actress Nakano Ichika poured in every role. Behind the absent-minded words of Tamako-chan were the memories of her own foolish youth. The broken heart of Charlotte Lilia from The Vermilion Riddle was a testament to her first love. The madness of Isabella W. Clark from A Beautiful Splatter encompassed the nights she barely slept in the pursuit of her dream.

But for a moment—just for a moment as she gazed into the mirror—Ichika had seen all of herself.

Her hair was styled the same way she had always done it, with the same spray she had always reliably used. There was no call for a wig or hair extensions to transform who she was. Her makeup was no different from the way she liked it when she did it herself. A comfortable shade of blush to make her cheeks ever so rosy, the right amount of mascara to draw out her lashes, the perfect length that drew from an eyeliner pen. The perfume was a sensual medley of sweet scents, with woodsy notes and laced with tones of apple, praline, and vanilla—the latest addition to her favorite brand. And lastly, a single earring to pierce her right ear.

After everything that had happened so far, and every misgivings that she may have harbored, Ichika found a strange sense of comfort as she stared in the mirror. The set may end up as a disaster. The plot may be riddled with holes, and the schedule might stay a convoluted mess until the very end. But if it were just one thing that went right—or rather, one thing that went perfectly—was that they managed to make her and her dress look beautiful.

Nakano Ichika stepped through the door; The Songbird entered the ballroom.

The cameramen, the assistants, the sound technicians, and everyone else in between welcomed her with smiles, as if the stress and fatigue from the morning had all melted away. "There she is!" they called and hollered, whistled and applauded.

"Oh!" Ichika looked surprised, then smiled as she laughed. "Thank you. You're all too kind."

Three loud claps echoed through the ballroom. "Alright! Places, people!" Erika called out, her assistant close behind her with a clipboard. "Let's get this show on the road!" They gathered at their respective positions, making a clear path for the actors to join the scene. The extras gathered—the ballroom dancers, the servers, the antagonists cloaked in black. Props were placed and a hundred lights illuminated the venue.

She knew her cue. Act II of Deceitfully Yours — Ballroom Scene, second track. Major character, The Songbird, played by Nakano Ichika. Underground information broker and coordinator of a masquerade gala. The only woman who did not adorn herself in a mask, for no disguise could ever dim her presence whenever she walked in the room. A woman who commanded the eyes of all those around her. Gold marked her skin and silver ran through her veins. With a snap of her fingers, she could have anything she wanted delivered at her feet.

As the cameras faced the ballroom staircase, the heels clattering against the marble floors signaled her arrival. She sauntered with elegant steps, capturing the overhead lights in the rhinestones embedded in the straps of her stilettos. She descended with the panning rhythm of the camera. Closer with the dolly movements. The camera followed as she entertained her guests. First, Mr. Durst, a press baron for several newspapers in this fictional universe. She shared prop champagne as they discussed rumors of a supposed syndicate that threatened their city. Next was Mrs. Salzheim, the heir apparent to a large, foreign trading empire, which served as a cover for clandestine operations.

After entertaining the guests, they would move on to the main scene. Ichika waited again for her cue, standing to the side of the ballroom as the first wave of slow dancers gathered and the second prepared. The servers came soon after., clearing tables and making more room on the dance floor as they went. Ichika watched. Right now should have been the main character's cue. The cameras should be following him as he crashed the gala, somewhere towards the center of the ballroom, where a wall of set extras played the role of mingling socialites. In the meantime, Ichika began to mentally recite her upcoming lines. She knew she had to be somewhere where she, as The Songbird, would catch the first sight of the main character, who clearly did not belong at her gala. He was to catch her eye with a sudden grandiose gesture, and from there the camera would—

Ichika paused. Just what was that, in the dimmest part of the set that laid behind the cameraman? There were the assistants that carefully navigated in the background. There was Erika, who oversaw everything from her director's chair. There were producers and technicians, dressers, stylists, and cosmetic artists. Everyone who was a part of the film was here, which was nothing out of the ordinary during shoots, but there was something else that caught her eye entirely. Peeking from behind the observers, somewhere between her hair stylist and Erika's director chair, was a bright green ribbon, fixed atop an obscured woman's hair.

It looked a lot like—

One of the servers passed by her, and to Ichika's surprise, the server had extended a silver platter to her, containing a decorative box stuffed with exquisite sweets. Ichika raised a brow. This was a not a part of the script, and they were nowhere within camera view. "Umm… what are y—"

The server lifted the brim of his cap, revealing a strand of curled blonde hair beside his bright blue eyes. "Hey," he said, winking. "No hard feelings about earlier, alright?"

Ichika startled. "Wait… J—James?! Wha—" She quickly regained her composure, so as to not have her voice picked up by the boom microphone. She quietly muttered under a hushed breath. "What are you doing?! Why are you in a server's costume?"

He smirked, saying nothing else as he vanished further into the ballroom. Before she could think of anything else, the lights across the ballroom dimmed. The actors and the servers, the actresses and the dancers, all parted ways to reveal the marble flooring of the center of the ballroom, where a lone light shined. Erika stood up, gesturing for the scene to move. And as she did, the rest of the eyes on set fixated to the center of the stage.

And sprouting from that vague spot in the corner of her eye was, again, that oddly familiar green ribbon. From behind, a quick hand had reached over, grabbing the knot of the ribbon as if it were the stem of a houseplant, before dragging it back into the shadows with a hushed voice.

It was enough for Ichika to notice. "Y—Yotsuba?! N—Nino?! Wha—"

The intro of the fifth track—Ichika's cue.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

The vestiges of a poorly put-together script. Words to a film that was never meant to exist. A room full of people who were just like her; a miscellany of the most perfect liars. The dress, the makeup, the perfume that she so easily fell in love with, as if it all were tailor made for her and no one else but her. Her body moved on its own. While the camera was still running and until the scene was called, the young actress knew that she had a job to do. She walked, and the lights followed. She sauntered, and the servers stepped aside. She strayed, and the dancers guided her. She stumbled, and his arms gently found their way around her back.

"Careful," he said, and the beat of her own heart quickened. It drowned out the music; it stifled the footsteps that surrounded them. As if it were only the two of them in the room, his words were the only thing that fell over her, and every sound that slipped passed his lips was euphony to her ears. "You know…"

Just how many times had she strolled past him in this scene? How many cues had been called without her recognizing the strands of his dark hair? How many more times did she need to gingerly trace her fingertips across the length of broad shoulders to convince herself who he was? The weightlessness she felt within his embrace should have already been enough, and yet, Ichika could not help but slowly lead her hands to the thin strings that held up his mask.

"…you really are clumsy, Ichika."

"Fuu… tarou…ku—" The name barely held together as tears welled up in her eyes. She had to say it again and again, as if there were anyone else that could make her heart leap this far out of her chest. "Fuutarou-kun... Fuutarou-kun!"

As she held onto him, Ichika watched as he lowered himself to one knee.

A hundred, a thousand, a million words swelled in her throat, forced back by the air she fought to breathe. In the slow seconds where Fuutarou reached into his suit pocket, all Ichika could think of was how desperately she held onto her own breath. In that short moment, before Fuutarou opened the little square box in his palm, Ichika saw the eagerly awaiting eyes that stared at her from the front of the gathered crowd. Four watched with eyes as wide as her own. Eyes that were shaped like her own, and held color just like her own. They huddled closely together, clutching the palm of each other's hands, if only to stop themselves from squealing.

"Ichika…" said Fuutarou, "will you marry me?"

In Fuutarou's eyes, she saw the rest of her life. She saw laughter. She saw bliss. She lived through every single passionate, flustering moment they shared in these past years they spent, together and a world apart. She saw the skies of a lustrous day and heard the most beautiful chimes of wedding bells. That brief shine of his golden eyes birthed a new dream. Another selfish desire for an actress that already shot for the stars and the moon, and still she desired more. She wanted to cherish that bouquet of peonies, dahlias, and garden roses. She wanted the birds to sing and the breeze to dance. And she wanted to share all of it with the man in front of her. He stood in a room of liars—a world of deceivers, performers, impersonators, and thespians—yet his lies had been the loveliest of all. Better than she could have ever imagined. He coordinated a fake script to a fake movie . He worked day and night for this humble ring. He met with her father to reverently ask for his blessings. He boarded his first ever flight that very week, along with the four sisters who would never dare miss this opportunity.

The words continued to swell in her throat. They burned like the most stubborn flame. They tore through an actress's veil like knives, until all that remained was her truest, most ardent self. She saw through the hollowness that made for the character, the falsehood that made for the background. She acted in defiance to any stage direction, and ignored the lines that came printed from a script. And in that moment, Ichika had remembered one thing. One plain and simple thing. Like the white that came with winter, and the pale that clouded the skies, the blank space of her script that appeared that very morning wrote—

「  Nakano Ichika  」 :

Why was it that now, after so many painstaking hours of trying to make sense of it, had the answer appeared so vividly in her mind as she closed her eyes? Had it been there all along? That much hardly matter to her. The answer would be the very same either way.

She threw herself into his arms.

"Yes!" Ichika shouted. "Yes, yes, yes! Of course I will!"

Chapter Text

Sunrise skimmed the folds of cotton sheets. A sea of the finest spun fibers—soft and serene, like a shawl of spring clouds that wrapped over skin. The white sedated; the warmth confined. It was the kind of warmth that kept any body imprisoned underneath the covers. It made sanctuary for any sleep, and spoiled the will of any purposeful mind, desiring nothing more than a few more minutes—or even hours entirely—to begin their morning. And if he had been any more careless, then Uesugi Fuutarou might have done exactly that.

When the lights of midmorning drew over his eyelids, Fuutarou slowly began to stir in bed. Compared to the plain and monotonous grays and blues that made for the walls and bedding of his own Tokyo studio apartment, the room he woke to could not be called anything else but lavish. From white to pearl, to ivory and alabaster—chiffon, porcelain, powder, and beige—every tint and hue of luxurious whites that could dye designer-brand furniture and decor was present before him. So bright that it was nearly blinding to his dreary eyes. In the corner there was a makeup vanity with a lighted mirror. Lipstick, foundation, and brushes stocked the shelves, along with various other bottles and cases he could not immediately notice. On parts of the walls were stylized posters of iconic actresses and scenes, with some hung wall-scrolls of traditional Japanese aesthetic placed beside it. There was a large flat-screen TV, a console table, a cabinet containing a collection of movies, some potted plants to decorate the table surfaces, and a few propped picture frames here and there.

And as he stretched his arms and legs, he was surprised to find out that no matter how far he may go, there always seemed to be more bedding for his limbs to lie upon. It was a bed—that much was obvious—but he had never rested upon one that was this soft and this spacious. Slowly, Fuutarou sat himself upright, and shortly after, there was a gentle knock sounding from the corner.

"Morning." The word fluttered from her lips, lifted like lyrics, as she stepped through the opened door. She carried two mugs in her hands. "Are you just going to lay in bed all day, or what, Fuutarou-kun? It's almost noon already."

"Ichika…" Fuutarou replied, his voice still groggy. He rubbed his eyes. "Good… good morning…"

She giggled. "What's the matter with you? You look like you've woken straight from the dead. My bed not comfortable enough for you?"

Ichika placed one of the mugs onto the nightstand beside them, her hands crossing the thin line of sunlight that slipped past the split of the see-through curtains. A brief glint shone at her finger, past the knuckle of her left hand and encased in a thin metal band.

"Your bed…?" Even his thoughts were sluggish, picking up some of the pieces as he gazed at the familiar ring. "Ah. That's right. I stayed over last night."

"You seriously forgot that?"

"I just didn't recognize that this was your room. It looks a lot bigger in-person, and I think it was dark in here before I…" Fuutarou followed the downward motion of Ichika's gaze, realizing just then that the last of the bedcovers had slipped past his skin, revealing the entirety of his bare chest. And the smeared leftovers of lipstick, pecked across his torso like marks on a canvas.

"Wait," Fuutarou said, looking back to find the impish smile of his lover. "Last night, did I… I mean, did we… For some reason, I can't remember anything. Did I do anything weird? Did I—"

"Nope," Ichika interrupted, taking an overly casual sip of her coffee. "You pretty much knocked out the moment you hit the bed, Fuutarou-kun. I was kind of impressed, actually. It takes a special kind of man to fall asleep with a pretty girl all over him. I even made it all the way…" She leaned closer, grazing a nail from the smudge behind his ear, to the curve of his jawline, down the sides of his neck, and onto a smear of lipstick above his belly."…here before I heard you snoozing without a care in the world. You know, some girls would be pretty upset over that kind of thing. But, luckily for you, I'm hardly one to get upset over those kinds of things."

"Sorry," said Fuutarou. "I guess all the stress finally caught up to me. All the planning, all the things that could have went wrong. It was almost a complete mess."

"Yeah, I heard from some of the'crew members' you hired. You must have been exhausted, so I can't hold that over you." As she said that, Ichika reached over and pinched the corner of his cheek. "But what I can be a little upset over is that stunt you pulled, Fuutarou-kun."

"H—huh?"

"Don't lie to me; I see that silly smile on your face. How long were you planning that, hmm? You even got all those people and my sisters on board. I thought grand displays weren't your kind of thing."

"They're not. That's why it was supposed to surprise you. And it was a huge succe—ow!"

"You're smiling again," said Ichika.

"Only because you are," Fuutarou retorted.

"That's different! You've got that smug smile like 'Oh, she totally fell for it. It could not have gone any better!' That's what you're thinking right now, aren't you? Is that what's making you so happy and funny-looking, hm? Hmm?"

Fuutarou chuckled. "Well, it's not easy to lie to someone who does it for a career. So, I figured I've earned the right to gloat a little. And? What's that smile on your face for?"

Ichika smirked, ignoring the obvious shades of red that filled her cheeks red the entire time. "Mm… well, I guess I can tell you. I'm smiling because I have the best boyfriend—no, wait..." She leaned closer, bringing the slightly dampened ends of her short hair closer to his face. A light fragrance danced under his nose, bringing pleasant scents of sugared rhubarb and wild poppies into the shrinking space between them. It was sweet and it was intoxicating. It roused the last of his muscles, brought to life with a single kiss to the sore spot on his cheek. "… the best fiancé in the world," Ichika continued. "I've fallen in love with you all over again, Fuutarou-kun."

She loosely brushed aside the messiest parts of his bangs, stopping only to smile as the brief shimmer of her engagement ring fell right beside the gleam in his golden eyes, squinting from the morning light that spilled over his face. If everything she ever needed could be painted to a single picture, then the dark strands between her fingers were the bold strokes and the cardinal tinges that flushed his cheeks were the pigments. The world could stop spinning and she would only be grateful, so as long as it meant that this moment could too last forever. And even if that could never happen, then this promise that wrapped around her ring finger offered solace as close to forever as they both could imagine. "Come on," Ichika said, lifting herself from her lover's bedside. "Get yourself out of bed already. How about I fix you something to eat?"

"If it isn't a problem," Fuutarou replied, slowly beginning to climb out of bed. "Thanks, Ichika. By the way, where is my luggage?"

"Your luggage? Oh, I think I left it in the… far closet. It's the room past the door over there."

"You have an entire room dedicated as a closet?"

"Mhm! Anyway, I'll get started with breakfast for you. Just take your time freshening up, okay?"

Ichika excused herself with another quick kiss and made her way to the kitchen. In the time she had spent living alone, Ichika would have loved to boast an impressionable, more refined culinary talent. Something truly worth wowing her newly engaged partner as he stepped out of the shower and dressing himself in the clean clothes she had thoughtfully prepared for him. He would have been welcomed to the crisp crackle of bacon on the frying pan, the roil of golden yolks, and anything else that made for other rich scents of a hearty breakfast. At least, that was what came to mind as Ichika fixed the apron around her waist. In truth, her culinary talents had not made any significant leaps nor bounds in the near-two years she had lived in America. The barren shelves inside her fridge reiterated the idea. Unless she could impress with half-a-carton of nearly expired milk and some leftover Chinese takeout, then she was out of luck. Though, in her head, Ichika defended the argument with the many intrusions and obligations that stuffed the daily schedule of a busy actress. Breakfast with friends, brunch with colleagues, lunch with the producers and directors, and dinners to be guiltily skipped for camera or photo shoots taking place the following morning. Not to mention the social functions that happened nearly every weekend.

And besides! It was not as if Ichika had any time to prepare to begin with. She did not wake that previous morning expecting a guest to stay over in her apartment, much less ending the day betrothed!

Her thoughts must have strayed a little too far, as Ichika found herself startled by the second chime of her doorbell, followed by a knock shortly after. "Ichika?" a muffled, yet familiar voice came through. "You there?"

"Coming!" she replied. Peering through the eyelet, Ichika was able to see the long, dark ponytail that confirmed who she thought it was, and welcomed her in. "Erika? What brings you over?"

Erika clumsily stepped into the apartment, carrying a cardboard tray of drinks in one hand, and a backpack slung over her shoulder. "Hey, girl! Sorry to barge in out of nowhere, but you weren't answering my texts. Did you get my messages?"

Ichika raised a brow and looked around her. "My phone? No, I don't think I've checked it all morning. Where is…"

"Ehh, it's whatever. I'm here now. Anywho, the reason I stopped by…" Erika plopped the backpack onto the nearby couch. "The cleanup crew found this when they were going through the changing room. Might wanna tell 'Prince Charming' that he should be careful where he leaves his stuff lying around. Especially with things like his passport and his wallet."

"Are you talking about Fuutarou-kun?"

"Who else?" Erika smirked, looking at Ichika up and down, as if the clothes she wore still had some business laying in bed. "Now that I think about it, were you two in the middle of something? Am I interrupting?"

"No, you weren't." Ichika quickly refuted. "But thank you for bringing these over. I was just in the middle of preparing something for Fuutarou-kun to eat. He should be finished showering soon."

"Wooow, look at you two; already acting like newlyweds."

"It's the least I can do. Fuutarou-kun must have been through a lot of trouble, and I want to do all I can for him while he's here. Though… I've run into a few issues with umm… ingredients."

"Hmm…" Erika thought for a moment. "Well, if you want my advice—ditch the clothes, keep the apron. Guarantee you he won't have a single complaint. Guys go crazy for that kind of thing."

"Erika…" Ichika sighed, but before she could ask anything else, a loud thud came from the other room, causing them to glance over. They heard smaller, yet still heavy, sounds as if piles of dense objects were spilling onto the floor. After a short series of grumbles and curses, Fuutarou entered the room, hair still damp and dressed in the fresh clothes Ichika had laid out for him.

"Hey, hey!" Erika lifted a hand towards Fuutarou. "'Ohayo' to the Asian Romeo! Sorry to intrude, but I brought you guys some boba!"

"Miss Sasaki-san?" said Fuutarou."I did not know you were here. Good morning to you."

"Japanese is fine," she said with a quick flip of her tongue. "And I'm only stopping by for a tiny bit. What was that noise earlier?"

With a callous glare, Fuutarou nudged towards Ichika. "Ichika's closet. I was looking for the stuff I brought over, and it turns out, she just stuffed it along with a bunch of her other things in the closet. It all came crashing down on me when I opened the door." He sighed. "I thought this place seemed suspiciously clean."

Playfully, Ichika stuck out her tongue. "Hi Fuutarou-kun. Erika was just stopping by because you left some things behind. She said there were some pretty important things in there. It's over there by the end table."

"Some important things—oh! Oh, shoot! I left that there?"

Erika shrugged. "Yeah, you did. But don't sweat it. Though, I tried texting both of you, but your phone was in the bag, and Ichika wasn't picking up. I've been calling you all morning."

"Oh, now that I think about it…" said Ichika. "Yeah, I remember. My phone kept going off last night, so I silenced it. It woke me up, like, twice in the middle of the night. I was surprised you didn't stir at all, Fuutarou-kun."

"I didn't hear a thing," he replied. "I can't remember the last time I've been out that long."

"I could tell. You were snoring like a wild animal."

"Huh?" Fuutarou jerked his head. "Wait, no I do not. You're joking, right?"

She laughed. "Of course I am. Completely. But, now that you meniton it, I should check and see what all those notifications were about. It's probably my sisters; we hardly had enough time to talk during the whole thing last night. Which hotel did you say you all were staying at?"

"It wasn't too far from the venue. I think it was called…"

"Whoa!" There was a short amount of time between the click of her phone screen and the loud scoot of Ichika's bar stool, as she stared widely at her screen. "What the—?! What's all of this?"

Crammed across the screen of her phone were clusters of texts, bubbles, and blurbs. Rows of contracted text to every social media platform she had installed on her phone, all shifting up and down as if they were competing for space on her notification tray. Another notification would replace the one she had just swiped away, announced loudly with a bell chime.

"What am I looking at?" Fuutarou said as he glanced over. "Wow, even your phone is a mess. How do you navigate through all of that?"

"It's not that!" Ichika said, still scrolling through some of the notifications. "These are all recent! Where did all of these come from? I even have a bunch of missed calls from my sisters. Did they call you too?"

"No idea. Let me go check my phone."

"Wait a second…" Erika said, switched gazes between the two of them. "Oh. Ohhh… You two don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Ohh ho ho ho! Thatis funny actually. Like, you have no idea! It's been all over social media, so I've been assuming this entire time—damn, where should I begin?" She took a long sip of her bubble tea, loudly humming her thoughts between chews of tapioca pearls. There was some struggle in her tone, as if trying to stop herself from laughing too crudely. "Okay, okay, okay. Y'all might wanna sit down for this; it's gonna be a lot. So, basically…."

For the next handful of minutes, Erika told them a story of grandeur. A story that felt like it was fetched straight from the imagination of an overly zealous storyteller, their mind left to fester in an endless stream of 'what-ifs' and 'maybes', until all that was left was a ludicrous sequence of events that made her listener's question every last word. To them, it just sounded so incredibly far-fetched. Every quizzical look either Fuutarou or Ichika had given her was met with an affirmative nod, as if the answer to their questions could somehow have been changed by simply asking it again. In the span of one night, word of one of the most intricately planned proposals had been circulating all across social media. Tens to hundreds of thousands of views, likes, and shares—and still growing—across the identical posts that littered the'Trending' topics of both Japanese and English followers.

'Actress Gets The Surprise of a Lifetime! One of the Best Proposals of the Decade!"

"Japanese Actress, Nakano Ichika, gets proposed to during fake movie set!"

"Surprise Proposal in Hollywood! She will never forget this!"

'She had NO idea what was going to happen! — WATCH UNTIL THE END!'

It was an overnight sensation. Fifty-three participants involved. A beautiful and talented actress, framed perfectly under the spotlight and stood on a stage made just for her. Those whose interest was piqued enough to dig further into the story would discover the devotion of one of an ordinary man—her highschool sweetheart and Tokyo University student—Uesugi Fuutarou. A story gobbled up by bleeding hearts and hopeless romantics alike, as if it were one of their favorite romance novels come to life.

"All of this happened overnight?" Ichika said, still in disbelief.

"Yup!" Erika answered. "Looks like your Japanese fan-base was all over it, swapping shifts with the western fans by morning. Nonstop-news-circulation! Social media gets pretty wild, you know?"

One after the other, coverage of the grand proposal played across her phone screen. There was a wide-angle shot, capturing the special moment in the ballroom as the then-disguised Fuutarou caught Ichika in his arms. Next was another shot, this time much closer to the actors on set, where the camera caught a glimpse of the moment Fuutarou and the'lead' actor, James, had switched places during the scene. And peculiarly, there was a short clip that caught two of her sisters, Miku and Itsuki, accidentally stumbling into the room as Ichika had her eyes closed for the makeup artist, none the wiser.

"Isn't this a backstage shot?" Ichika asked. "There are so many videos! How did these get leaked?"

"Those? Yeah, those came directly from on-set. Name any time or angle, and you got it. It's all over."

"From on-set? Wait, how do you know?"

"Oh, did I forget to tell you?" Erika reached one finger over to Ichika's phone on the table, nudging the social media feed ever so slightly upward—just enough so that the currently playing video also showed the poster's handle—'sasaki.erika.official'

"…who do you think was the one who posted it?"

"YOU?!" Ichika exclaimed.

"What?" Erika laughed." You thought we would go through the trouble of renting all that equipment and not capture any footage? Come on! Do you have any idea how much that stuff costs ?Sure, it was all a ruse, but as far as the cameras were concerned, we were filming a legit scene"

"Fuutarou-kun!" Ichika looked beside her. "Did you know about this?"

"We've… discussed it a few times before," he answered, sounding a bit surprised himself. "I just didn't know it would get this big, this quickly."

"Something like this doesn't stay on the down low, you know?" Erika followed up. "It's Hollywood, after all! They've got eyes and ears everywhere. And you should know the paparazzi and all those tabloid magazines are always so eager to put their own little spin on things to spice up a story. So, I brought up the idea to Fuutarou that we should publicize it and get the facts straight."

"That… makes sense, I suppose."

"By the looks of it, your hits are skyrocketing. Like, have you seen your follower count lately? Even my little brother was going nuts over it. People are finally noticing the next big thing to come out of the filming industry." Erika exaggerated a couple of quick claps as if she were to compensate for an entire audience. "Let's hear it for Nakano Ichika! Woo!"

"That kind of praise is too generous," Ichika quickly refuted. "I mean, I only had a small following when I was in Japan, compared to most. And I've only been debuted in America for less than two years. There's no reason that I—"

"Save the humbleness for the award speech," Erika interrupted. "Come on, girl! You've made it big! You've been making it big! I knew it the moment I saw you that you were gonna be a star."

"I fully agree," Fuutarou promptly added, hands placed firmly on his hips. "There is not a single actress out there like Ichika."

"You guys…" Ichika muttered, fidgeting back and forth on the seat of her barstool. "That is too much praise, but really, thank you. Though, from what I remember, Fuutarou-kun, you were completely against the idea when you first found out. Remember? During the fireworks festival?"

"That was all the way back in high school."

"It wasn't that long ago."

"Well, a lot has happened since then. I've practically forgotten I've ever said anything like that."

"That's because you're terrible at admitting when you're wrong." Ichika leaned over, following the evasive look in his eyes. "Come on, say it. Tell me exactly how wrong you were. Don't spare any details."

"Aww, look at you two," Erika said, smiling. "Even the way you argue is cute. Now, don't let ol' Erika get in your way longer than she has. I already dropped off your things, Fuutarou, so I'll take my leave." She scooted from her chair, grabbing the baseball cap and face-mask she had left on the kitchen counter.

"Thanks for stopping by," said Ichika, "and for the tea, too."

"And thanks for dropping off my things," added Fuutarou. "I really owe you, Sasaki-san."

"It's no bother," Erika replied, flicking the handles of her large sunglasses and placing it onto her face, disguising any discernible features of her face. A necessity—as Fuutarou had eventually realized—that all famous figures had to have ready before stepping out into public. To him, it seemed like a hassle. Overwhelming, even. And the more he thought about it, the more it reminded Fuutarou about the kinds of struggles Ichika would face as she ascended to new heights in her career. The popularity she had garnered so quickly in America, and the adoration she still inspired back in Japan—it did not seem like it was too far until she truly became an actress to an era. That was something the two of them discussed time and time again. The inconvenience, the longing, the distance. If all it could get was more difficult moving forward, then how could he, or how could they—

"Oh, by the way, Ichika," Erika said as she was putting on her shoes.

"Yeah?"

"Wendy from hair-and-makeup told me that she overheard Jimmy hitting on you last night. Need me to go beat his ass for you?"

"Huh…?" Ichika blinked, then remembered. "Wait, do you mean James? Wasn't that all a part of the act?"

"Not entirely." She sighed. "We had an issue on-set, and we sent Jimmy in last-minute as a distraction. But the absolute nerve of the guy… was that really the best he could come up with? Hitting on the fiancée-to-be?You sure you don't want me to?"

"I… I'm sure," Ichika replied with a halfhearted chuckle. "There is no need to go that far."

"Hmm… alright. How about you, Fuutarou?"

"M—me?" Fuutarou said.

"Yeah. Dude pulling moves on your partner doesn't really slide with most people, you know? Better yet, wanna go together?"

"No, no. That won't be necessary." Fuutarou quickly replied. "It's not a big deal. Really."

Erika shrugged. "Mmkay, if you two say so. Still, I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind if I see his face around. Later! Oh, and congrats on the engagement, lovebirds!" And with a click of the door, the dark-haired actress had made her exit, leaving the newly engaged couple to the rest of their afternoon.

After a short silence, Fuutarou glanced around the kitchen counter. "Oh my god…"

"Hmm? What is it?"

"We're… engaged. Engaged!" He repeated the word, the corner of his lips tugging to a wide smile. There was a spirited spring in his step as he made his way to Ichika, tenderly wrapping his arms around her waist and twirling her around the room. "We are engaged! Haha!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Ichika giggled as her feet lifted from the floor. "Why are you acting so surprised? You're the one who proposed to me!"

"Yeah, but just saying it is something else. It's like a dream! You said 'yes', and we… you and I are—"

"I know; I was there, Fuutarou-kun..." She wrapped one arm behind his neck, matching that blissful look in his eyes, down to the fervent smile on his lips. Her finger tapped the tip of his nose, then curled to draw the jewel of her engagement ring before his eyes. "…or maybe," she continued, close enough so that the gentleness of her voice caressed him, "I should start calling you, 'dear' now…? W—whoa! Careful! You almost dropped me!"

Fuutarou forced a chuckle, gently bringing her down. "S…sorry. That just caught me off guard a little." He sighed. "Now that I think about it, I was so nervous yesterday that I barely ate. I'm starving. Was breakfast ready?"

"Breakfast… oh! Oh, haha!" Ichika laughed, though it came out a little too abruptly. "I for—I mean, I was thinking… you know, um—you came all the way to here California, right? So… why not go out and eat? Try some of the food here! I'm sure you'll love it!"

"Oh." Fuutarou nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"Right? Then, it's settled!" Ichika grinned, quickly untying her apron as she made her way to the bedroom. "I know a few places nearby, depending on what you're feeling. Let me go and get changed. I'll be back soon!"

Outside, the city stretched itself across a backdrop of blue. Cloudless, as winter crept to its fleeting days, with bright sunlight skimming over the streets and drawing long shadows of palm trees. From one distance were the lush hills that encompassed the Los Angeles region. From the other, the fine line where oceans met skies, dividing two brilliant shades of blue. Occasionally, the crisp ocean breeze would whisk beside them as they strolled down the city street, bringing them closer together and tightening their fingers that were laced with the other's.

"There's a café that I usually go to down this street," Ichika said, pulling down her face mask. Along with her casual date attire—which consisted of a form-fitting sweater dress tied with thin a designer belt around her waist—Ichika also threw together a few other accessories on their way out the door, which included her black, thick-rimmed glasses that she could never seem to part with, even if she had no reason to disguise herself. Ichika continued, "it's where I usually go on my days off. The coffee is great and they've got a pretty tasty lunch menu too. Have you ever had a panini before?"

"What's that?" asked Fuutarou.

"Basically, an Italian sandwich. They use this special kind of press on it and it makes it taste really good. I'm sure it'll fill you right up."

"From what I've heard about American portion sizes, I'd say that's a safe bet."

Ichika laughed. "Tell me about it! I had to weigh myself for months when I first got here. I'm sure the two of us can even split one. Let's see… it shouldn't be much further from here. Make a turn at the corner up ahead."

After enough traveling, the streets had turned from the quiet and peaceful setting of a wealthy neighborhood to one that much more like a city. More and more people roved about, indulged in any and all affairs a careless weekend could bring. Everyone was going somewhere, and the more time Fuutarou spent gawking between palm trees to hole-in-the-wall shops, the sooner he realized that he may have been drawing more attention to himself, and inadvertently, to Ichika, who needed to blend in as nonchalantly as possible. Though, it hardly appeared as if she minded, as the young actress casually recalled stories of her life in America during their walk.

"Aren't you worried someone might recognize you walking with me?" Fuutarou mentioned as they passed by a long window of a convenience store, with a magazine rack facing the street. There were two younger girls conversing over the pages of a fashion magazine, and the model featured on the cover was Nakano Ichika herself, dressed in a collared midi dress with a floral pattern that heralded the styles of spring.

"Mm… I wouldn't say so," said Ichika, fixing the straps of her face mask. "No one pays that much attention to people out in the street. Just going around like this is enough for most actresses."

"I guess that makes sense," said Fuutarou. "I don't remember you wearing a disguise back in Japan. You were mostly debuting at the time, but now, you're more popular than ever. Remember what happened the last time?"

"Ah… you're talking about those two during Hanami." Ichika casually chuckled. "Well, things like that happen from time to time. And if it were to happen, most fans are pretty understanding after you acknowledge them."

"Still, I'm worried it could get out of hand. What happened if you're swarmed by fans on the street and can't get out?"

"Come on, that's an exaggeration. Things like that barely happen. And besides—"

"Look!" a voice came from further behind them. "It's Ichika Nakano!"

Their shoulders stiffened, caught halfway between an instinctive turn, with the incoherent sputter of rushed thought slipping past their lips. One second, two, then five, then ten—the strangers continued to approach, and still Fuutarou and Ichika could not pull together a single thought. With a bitter sigh, Ichika fixed her glasses and forced a smile, turning around. "H—Hello…"

And the footsteps passed.

Further down the sidewalk and past the outdoor tables of a lunch eatery—whose diners curiously glanced over from behind their menus—a trio of teenagers had hurriedly made their way to a small crowd that gathered near a corner crosswalk. An incoherent mass of words and shouts formed, growing louder with every, "Ichika?", and "Huh?", and "Wait, where?!" they muttered, pulling more and more eyes to the center of the crowd.

"Oh…" Fuutarou hardly had the time to wipe the sweat from his brow, glancing to his side. "Don't tell me…"

Ichika reluctantly nodded, not looking any calmer herself. "It has to be…"

At the center of the crowd was a woman with long hair, with her shoulders and elbows meekly tucked together as she held onto a coffee cup with both of her hands, while also trying to answer the barrage of questions and comments that came to her in a foreign tongue. But all that would come out was a stutter, as every thought was interrupted by three more. She found herself turning in all directions, shaking her head with every desperate attempt to draw less attention to herself. "I—I am not…" she began.

"Ichika!" a young woman had shouted within the crowd. "I'm a huge fan! Congratulations on your engagement!"

"But I—"

"Can I have a picture with you, Miss Ichika?" a boy excitedly asked, already handing his phone to his friend. "It'll be really quick!"

"I want one next!" someone called from behind her.

From further outside the crowd, Fuutarou let out a long sigh. "Of course. How did we not see this coming?"

"We have to help her somehow," said Ichika, giving Fuutarou an expectant look. "And, well, you know… it might cause more problems if I were to…"

"Yeah..." Again, Fuutarou sighed. "Yeah, I know. Miku's always struggled with English, and it's probably gotten worse since we graduated. Hold on. I'll figure something out."

Ichika pulled down her face mask and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "I knew I could count on you, honey. Best of luck." Perhaps she may have been imagining it, but Ichika had seen a clumsy haste in her lover's steps, regaining his composure once he neared the crowd. She loved that about him. She loved that feeling of harmony whenever she strolled beside him, and that feeling of safety whenever she watched his back. Something about this man, who she could now earnestly claim as her fiancé, gave her all the comfort and assuredness she could ever hope for. Every time she would look at him, and every time she would think about him, she smiled.

There was something a senior co-actress once said to Ichika when she was still working in Japan. She said that 'all women in the entertainment industry were doomed to stay single', and if it were not for sake of the fans, then it would later fall for the sake of their partners. Not many potential love interests could endure the hardships that came with having a celebrity for a partner, and even some of the more hopeful candidates could collapse under the pressure. There was just too much to deal with. Too much to sacrifice. But when it came to someone like Fuutarou, Ichika just knew that there was no room for any doubt. Unlike herself, Fuutarou had no talent for lying. Or rather, he had no reason to. Every part of him—his devotion, his endearment, his honesty—were all laid bare. And Ichika loved that. If any of that could be questioned, then last night's display would be the answer. She was blessed to have Fuutarou, and at times, Ichika felt as if she could do more to show it.

"Alright!" one of the boys from the crowd called out, positioning himself on the street with a phone camera angled towards Miku and one of Ichika's fans posing beside her. "I'm taking it in three… two—"

Before he could take the picture, Fuutarou had forced himself in front of the camera, earning a few dirty looks from the surrounding people. He quickly shrugged it off, making his way closer to Miku. As the desperate girl looked all around, a hopeful glint shined in her eyes as she recognized him. "Fuutarou—!" she mouthed, as if the surrounding noise had not drowned her out.

"Watch where you're going!" someone said to him.

"What the hell, man?" another called.

Fuutarou knew his English was a little out of practice, but there was little to misinterpret when it came to a raised voice. "That is enough, everyone!" he shouted. "Leave her alone! Hey, out of the way!"

"Who is this guy?"

As Fuutarou neared, Miku quickly clung onto his arm as if he were a lifeline. "Fuutarou!" she said again, more relieved than ever. "You're here! Thank you!"

The expression alone was enough to give them some space, and all Fuutarou needed to do now was get rid of the crowd. "This is not Nakano Ichika," he said, gesturing widely to Miku's face. "This is her twin sister. You are scaring her. She does not speak English good."

"Wait, Ichika Nakano has a twin sister?" someone muttered to their friend beside them. "Did you know that?"

They shrugged. "First I've heard of it."

"I thought her family all lived in Japan," said another person. "Maybe they're all visit—"

"No way, that has to be Ichika. I know the love of my life when I see her! Who the hell does this guy think—"

"Actually, I remember reading that Ichika is actually a quadruplet or something."

"For real? Are they all girls too—"

"That's just a rumor though, right? No way there's—"

"I heard they've used each other as stunt doubles—"

"Quiet, quiet!" Fuutarou shouted over them, growing more disgruntled with the growing murmurs. It was not until he was argumentative did Fuutarou realize how troublesome a limited vocabulary was. Again, Fuutarou gestured, this time to length of Miku's hair, ending to her exposed earlobes. "See? Her hair is long. Ichika's hair is short. And her sister has no pierced ears. This is not her. This is her twin. Please leave her alone. Please go away."

Like a broken record, Fuutarou repeated the words over and over again until the crowd began to thin. Politeness—or what little semblance he had of it to begin with—was quickly discarded the more he needed to reiterate the words. If Miku were not closely attached to his side, then the onlookers would have had trouble believing his aggressive remarks. Whether they were convinced, or were seemingly unprepared for arguing with a disgruntled foreigner, eventually they all dissipated into the rhythm of a weekend routine.

"Damn, that sucks," one person complained. "I thought that was her. Hey, wanna grab lunch nearby?"

"Who even was that guy? He looked kind of familiar."

"I was thinking the same thing. But he was a bit of a jerk, though, don't you think...?"

"I'm still convinced that is the real Ichika Nakano though…" a man grumbled, walking away.

"Did you still want the picture I took?" someone asked their friend as they crossed the street.

"It's not really her, but… yeah, I'll take it. Her sister is just as hot as she is. Hey, do you think…"

When she was sure there was no one else lingering around, Ichika hurriedly made her way over to the two of them. "Miku! Are you alright? I am so sorry…"

"I'm… I'm fine." Miku loudly exhaled. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks, Ichika, but you don't have to apologize for anything. And thank you so much, Fuutarou. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there. I didn't expect anything like that to happen."

"Don't mention it," he said, massaging his neck. "Just be careful. Ichika is a lot more popular around here than we thought. You shouldn't be surprised if people mistake you for her when you're walking around in public."

"Here, Miku. Take this." Ichika pulled a spare face mask from her purse, which her sister gladly accepted.

"Thanks, Ichika," said Miku. "And I understand, Fuutarou. It's just that I didn't know what to say to them. They just came out of nowhere, and there were too many people speaking, and it was all so loud and overwhelming."

"Well, English was always your worst subject," said Fuutarou. "I thought I told you to brush up on it a bit more before we came here. At least enough so that you can refuse someone. Americans are a lot more willing to randomly converse with strangers and—"

Ichika patted him on the back. "Let's save the lecturing for another time, Fuutarou-kun. I'm sure Miku must be pretty overwhelmed right now." She turned to her sister. "What brings you all the way here, Miku? Where are the rest of the girls?"

"Ah…" Miku held up the cup of coffee in her hand. "Nino and I thought that we'd visit several cafés and bakeries while we're here in America. We thought it would give us some ideas for decorations for our café back at home."

"I see. So where is she? Is she with you?"

"She was earlier. We ended up passing by so many that we thought we should split up so that we can cover more. At the time, I thought it was a good idea, but I realized that without Nino, I have trouble finding my way around. I was about to text her before all of… that just happened. Oh, that reminds me; I should reply to her."

"So Nino is out wandering around too?" Fuutarou grimaced, glancing across the street. "Should we hurry and see if she needs help, too?"

"Something tells me Nino wouldn't run into that much trouble." Ichika chuckled. "Though, I am still a little worried. Especially Itsuki and Yotsuba too. I didn't bring any more disguises with me."

"They both should still be at the hotel," Miku answered. "Yotsuba is used to waking up the earliest out of all of us, so the jet lag has messed her up the most. Itsuki stayed with her and they were going to join us later." Miku checked her phone. "Yeah… she's already called me three times. I should go and find her."

"I'll be sure to call you girls soon," said Ichika. "Let's make some plans for tonight."

Miku nodded. "Sounds good. I'll let them know. And, Fuutarou, sorry again for the trouble. I really can't thank you enough."

"It's fine," replied Fuutarou. "Just as long as you're all safe. I did promise your father I would keep you all out of trouble, so…"

She giggled, and before she finished putting on her face mask, Miku said, "Bye bye, Fuutarou, Ichika. We'll see you both soon."

A few minutes later, Fuutarou and Ichika found themselves seated on the street-facing window of a local café, watching the passing cars and passersby gallivant about their daily lives. Ice clattered against the cold glass, engulfed in the somber hues of black coffee. Simple, but beautiful in its simplicity and boldness. In comparison, the one across carried the swirls of milk foam that settled on the coffee cup, formed to an intricately drawn leaf with the bristles finely pulled to the rim. A tad too lovely to be sipped without savoring it with a picture, and Ichika had taken the extra effort to capture a shot with Fuutarou's torso in the frame, ending just above the collar of his button-up shirt, with his forearms relaxed over the table.

'Coffee Date w/ my darling 3'—read the caption, and Ichika continued with her social media feed.

"I'll post it after we leave," Ichika said and slowly began taking sips of her cappuccino. A delicate balance struck her tongue. The rich and bold flavor of espresso, offset by the sweetness of steamed milk, all to be bridged together by the creamy texture of foam that gathered at her lips. The first sip was always the most decadent, and Ichika would always spare a few silent seconds to let the taste settle, warming her throat with bittersweet tones. When she finished, she glanced forward. "And how about you, Fuutarou-kun? Was lunch to your liking?"

"It was delicious," he replied. "Thanks for treating me."

"It's all my pleasure. Nothing is too much when it comes to you." She winked, coffee cup still held over her lips. "Doesn't this take you back a bit? It's almost like…"

"Our first date? Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Fuutarou leaned back. "It's been… three years, huh? Wow."

"Some people would say that's moving pretty fast."

"Do you think so?"

Ichika shrugged. "Who are we to know? It just feels… right. I think that's all that matters."

"Then, that is all I need to know." Fuutarou smiled, taking a sip of his cold brew coffee. Compared to the coffee that Ichika had offered him a sip of, his was a lot darker. Smoother. A touch of what seemed like sourness, but it was a taste he had become well acquainted with over the years. "I remember I never liked bitter things back then," he continued. "I didn't know how to ask someone out on a date, or how to dress for one at all, for the matter."

"… or how to accept generosity," Ichika added. "Remember? You were always so thorny about being treated out or having me cover you. It was always about paying-back-this and owing-me-that. Now look, you can properly say'thank you'."

Fuutarou guiltily chuckled. "Well, it wasn't something I was used to. But hey, I learned."

"We learned," Ichika corrected. "We were both a little awkward around some corners, but isn't every couple? They agree and they disagree. They fight and make up. There were times where I could have been a little more honest with you. A little more open, so that I could rely on you sooner." She reached over the table, gently holding his hand in hers. "We've learned a lot. From each other. And we're still learning."

"Yeah," Fuutarou replied, smiling. "You're right. There are still so many things I hope for us, Ich—" He quickly stopped himself, twisting his mouth to a stiffened grin . "I mean, umm… 'babe'…?"

Ichika had to abruptly stop herself from bursting into laughter. "Smooth! Ahaha! Hold on, hold on, I need a second. You really do have your way of making things very 'you'. Have I ever told you that?"

He quietly resigned to a laugh. "Guess there are still a lot of things I'm still clumsy about. I'll work on that."

"No, keep it. It's one of the many things I love about you." She took another sip of her coffee. "And besides, not a lot of people here can understand Japanese. Relax a little." Ichika leaned back in her chair, keeping her fingers wrapped around the curve of her coffee cup while it was still warm to the touch. "But yeah, springtime has been making me feel a little sentimental lately. Sorry if I come out a little sappy."

"Not at all," he reassured. "It's everything that I'm thinking, but I can never find the right words to say it. You're absolutely right. And we're engaged now, so there's a lot still in store for us, and we should always be more clear with our feelings, and if we there is—I mean, if there are ever any…" Fuutarou stopped himself, sighing into the knuckles pressed into his cheek. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Ichika raised a brow. "A little... Something on your mind?"

He mulled over his thoughts, busying his lips with slow sips through his straw. Finally, he began, "I've been thinking… about what happens now. What happens next? I don't know how to put it exactly, but I guess these past few months, I've always been thinking about one thing…" He reached over, feeling the thin lengths of her fingers against his palm. His thumb ran over the fine metal band on her ring finger, and to the tiny gemstone that fitted on top. "… proposing."

With all of her heart, Ichika listened.

"I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it exactly the way I imagined it, and it did. You said yes and we're engaged. Don't get me wrong, I am completely ecstatic. There is nothing that would have made me happier. It's been less than twenty-four hours, but I can't help but ask myself 'what happens next?'"

"Well, we get married, right?" Ichika partly smirked, if only to lighten the mood a little. It managed to work in a way, as Fuutarou warmly smiled her way.

"Of course. We are going to get married." The words felt foreign to his tongue that he had to repeat it once more. "We are going to get married. Husband and wife."

"Don't keep saying it like that. You'll get me embarrassed, too."

Fuutarou laughed. "Sorry. You see, when I was younger, I always wondered something. It was about my mom and my dad." He paused to collect his thoughts. "They were always the mushy type. My dad would always do these… little things that made my mom happy, like coming home with all these flowers on days where he felt like it. She always looked… so delighted every time. She really loved those flowers. Even when she was sick, he always surprised her with some whenever we visited. And…"

Ichika tightly held onto his hand. "It's okay, Fuutarou-kun. You can pause for a bit if you need to."

Without realizing it, a heaviness had gathered at the back of his throat. "Thanks. Though, I think I'll be fine." He shook any doubts from his mind, then continued. "I never realized it at the time, but it must have taken everything for my dad to keep himself together. I think that's when he started telling me something. He always told me to 'become a man who can devote himself to loving one woman for the rest of his life.'" He quietly sighed. "I've never said the words myself, so all I can picture right now is my old man's face. But I guess that was his way of making sure that was drilled into my head. I do love you, Ichika. I always will. And I want to stay by your side."

"Fuutarou-kun…" Ichika rested her other hand over his. "And I feel the exact same way. But why does it still look like something is bothering you?"

He nodded. "I guess a small part of me thought that was all there was to it. Propose, get married, and live a long, happy life together. But now that it's happened, I realize that… marriage is just one of many other beginnings. Our lives have so many more beginnings to discover; we've barely scratched surface. And when I think about the rest of it…" Fuutarou gazed out the window—to the first signs of spring. To where the sway of the cherry blossoms was replaced by the tall lengths of palm trees across a cloudless, azure sky. "Aren't you a lot happier here? In California?"

Ichika looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

Outside the window, a nearby bus had stopped to pick up passengers. Across its side was a long, horizontal advertisement. High-class jewelry, from rings, to necklaces, to earrings—showcased on a model with hair short enough so that her nape was visible and that the jewelry took center stage. As an actress and as a photography model, Nakano Ichika was the star to many eyes.

"You've got a future here," continued Fuutarou. "You've got fans that will flock to you. You've starred in so many roles, and you're more popular than you've ever been before. Ichika, you're thriving. Compared to the struggles and scrutiny you faced in Japan, life here seems made for you. I can't ask you to trade that all away."

For some time, Ichika was silent. Then she slowly nodded her head. "I understand. I knew this was something we had to talk about, but I never thought it's been lingering on your mind for this long. Though, let me ask you…" She looked at him in the eyes, to where there was room for nothing else but honesty. "Do you really think I'd be happier here?"

"I… I don't know. I know it's all in the past, but I can't shake the feeling that you've already sacrificed so much for us. The dating scandal was already too much for you. Would it not be me doing the same thing by asking you to settle back in Japan with me?"

"Then… what do you suggest that we do?" she asked. "What? Will you move to America too?" She forced a chuckle, but the silence she was met with imediately concerned her.

Slowly, Fuutarou nodded. "Would you like m—"

"Hold on, hold on!" Ichika interrupted with quick waves of both of her hands. "I was only joking about that! You can't seriously be making that kind of decision now. That's a huge choice!"

"I told you; I've been thinking about it."

"But what about your scholarship that you worked so hard for? And… and, your family, and the future arrangements you made with my father? You know, for your career as a doctor? You'd be giving that up too, Fuutarou-kun."

"Two years was long enough," he answered flatly. "Sorry for sounding blunt there. But for these past two years, I've been missing you like crazy. I want to be with you every single day that I can, and if it means making this kind of a decision, then I will. I can transfer. I can get into school here—they've got some of the best medical schools in the entire world. We can find a place here instead. And I can even try to take up residency—"

"You're rambling again." Ichika interrupted him by placing a hand over his mouth. "Seriously, what is with you and over-thinking everything? It hasn't gotten any better than when we first started dating."

"I'm just trying to compromise," he said, muffled.

Ichika sighed, then pulled her hand away. "Look. You've got it all wrong. Like, so, SO wrong that I'm starting to question if I'm even speaking to the right guy. Just calm down for a bit, okay? Just a little?"

As if the idea were foreign to him, eventually, Fuutarou nodded.

"Great." She grinned,, settling herself back into her seat. Her hands ran over the soft wool of her sweater dress, before looking back to Fuutarou. "Hey, I have a favor to ask from you, Fuutarou-kun. Do you know that nightstand on the side of my bed? The one nearest to the window?"

"I think so…? What about it?"

"There's a drawer there that has a few of the papers I keep for work. You might have to do a little bit of digging, but there should be an envelope in there that's addressed to Oda Talent Productions. It's the only one written in Japanese, so I'm sure you'll find it. If you wouldn't mind, could you deliver it for me when you get back home?"

"'Oda Talent Productions'…?" Fuutarou repeated. "Isn't that the name of—"

"My previous talent agency, yes," Ichika finished for him as she finished the last sips of her coffee. "It's a job application. I started filling it out last week."

Fuutarou raised a brow. "A job application? Why would you—" His eyes widened, looking as if he could jump out of his chair that very second. "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ichika winked. "This trip has been fun, but I think it's gone long enough. It's time for me to come home—and for Nakano Ichika to make a comeback."

Chapter Text

Four corners to a frame. Blurred, centered, then focused. Attend to every detail with care and capture every moment in its best light. Take a few steps closer to shrink the vast blue sky that filled the frame, and closer so that her smile and his lens aligned. The curled corners of her lips, chin rested between her palm and knuckles. A slight bend to her hips and turn to her shoulders, as if her body knew every way to flirt and flatter with the camera. With a slight tug to his arm and a hand wrapped over his wrists, another memory would be captured amidst the bright revelry of the amusement park.

One photo here. Another photo there. One in front of the revolving carousel; one leaned against the railing of the large fountain with statues of well-renowned cartoon characters. With a bundle of colorful balloons, and another as she fed him cotton candy, presented right in front of the lens. Each photo minimized to tiny squares on his gallery, extending even further as he scrolled through. Fuutarou sighed. It could not have been more than an hour since they first arrived, but he felt as if he had enough captured memories to make for an entire day. And enough exhaustion to make for the rest of his stay in America.

Of course, no visit to the—as Fuutarou had been repeatedly told—'Happiest Place on Earth', would be complete without a visit to the iconic castle placed right in the middle of the park. Its white and blue spires speared the skies, grandiose in every aspect and angle that there was hardly a soul out there who would not recognize it. Raiha had continuously pestered him that every couple should have at least one photo taken in front of the castle, as if it were some unwritten law taken straight from the romantic story plots the young high school girl found herself recently obsessed over. Still, it truly was a wonderful sight. And once more he took out his camera, pointing the front-facing camera their way.

"How's it look?" Ichika asked, leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

"It's… alright, I guess," Fuutarou replied as he glanced over the photo. "But it's a bit difficult to get us and the castle in the shot. Not with the selfie camera, at least."

"Why don't we ask my sisters to take one for us then?"

"Sure. That's fine and all but…" Fuutarou narrowed his eyes, marking the details of the woman's face beside him. Just like the countless pictures he had taken that day, Fuutarou found his eyes fixated to every part visible to him. Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks. The curls that made her smile; the eyes looked back at him. Everything about her, as if there were some answers buried within a single glance.

"Hmm?" Ichika raised a brow. "Something the matter, Fuutarou-kun?"

"I would like it if I took this picture with my girlfriend—no, my fiancée. With Ichika."

"What are you talking about? We just took the picture, silly!"

"You know exactly what I mean…"

There was an impish smile on her face as she turned, making her way back to the group. Including Fuutarou himself, there should have been six of them here. The Nakano sisters had been going on for the past couple of days about how they needed to end their overseas trip with something big. Something so grand and so adventurous that they all could do together, capturing that sense of awe and wonder that seemed so few and far between now. It hardly took any time at all for the five sisters to come to an agreement, and with the last weekend of their trip, they had planned for one truly unforgettable day.

But no matter how long he may have thought about it at the time, Fuutarou could not at all prepare himself for what these five girls had in mind.

There should have been six of them here, and without a doubt, the six of them were here together. Himself and the five Nakano quintuplets—Ichika, Nino, Miku, Yotsuba, Itsuki—

… dressed in a way that made them virtually indistinguishable between one another.

The lengths of their rose-colored hair were tied to ambiguously shaped buns, tucked neatly into the various hats they wore and occasionally switched out of throughout the day. Their clothes were gathered from the countless articles that littered the depths of Ichika's closet. Fashion from many renowned brand's Spring collections, hand-picked and pieced together to charming outfits that perfectly suited Nakano Ichika's body and face. And with four others just like her, the lines that distinguished between sister-to-sister had vanished. Most importantly, they had chosen to not wear the familiar accessories Fuutarou had come to permanently associate amongst them. No green ribbons could be found atop any of their heads, no butterfly ribbons to lace between strands of hair, no headphones wrapped around their neck, and neither shine nor twinkle to denote star-shaped clips.

"Alright…" He approached them, crossing his arms. "… this has gone on long enough. Could you girls just knock it off already?!"

"Whatever do you mean, Fuutarou?" One of the sisters remarked, lifting the brim of her straw sun hat. "We're the same as we've always been, right, sis?"

The one beside her nodded, fixing the rims of her sunglasses. "Mhm! What's gotten you in such a sour mood, Fuutarou? Come on! We're in the happiest place on earth! Smile!"

"Leave it to Fuutarou to find an excuse to be all grumpy," the quintuplet on the furthest end said with a laugh. "It's a special skill of his."

"Don't give me that…" Fuutarou replied. "It's been like this all morning. None of you have been referring to each other by name, or wearing those accessories you always have on. And no one else but Ichika has pierced ears—are you all wearing clip-ons or something? Are you just messing with me?"

"We told you already, Fuutarou." The quintuplet he was first with stepped forward. "It's the Quintuplet Game! All we did was change our hair a little. Don't tell me that's all it takes for you to mistake your future bride, hmm?"

"That's not—"

"And besides," another quintuplet interrupted. "This is the best compromise we can make, given the circumstances. It's not the best idea for the real Ichika to be seen walking around. Remember what happened with Miku? How she was swarmed by all those people, thinking she was Ichika?"

Fuutarou clicked his teeth, annoyed. Of course he remembered, and regretfully, what she was saying made a lot of sense. The surprise proposal still generated a bit of buzz in the area. Nothing quite like the first days the videos went viral, but more than enough to cause a stir while out carelessly in public. Including then, he and Ichika had been out on several more occasions—each time warranting the use of some form of disguise for the young actress, no matter where they were going. When Fuutarou thought about it, it made sense that a large and crowded place like an amusement park would be no exception.

However, what Fuutarou was not expecting that very morning was opening the door and being greeted by the other four Nakano sisters wearing disguises of their own. Just like that, Fuutarou found himself caught in another one of the five sisters' antics. A familiar game that he had never once won in the five years he had known them—The Quintuplet Game.

"I understand avoiding the paparazzi…" Fuutarou said, begrudgingly, "but keeping me out of this is plain unfair. Why do we have to play this silly game, too?"

"It's not like you have to guess all of us correctly," said one of the quintuplets, perfecting a wink that seemed like only Ichika could do, and at the same time, peculiarly unfitting of this quintuplet in particular . "Today's Quintuplet Game has a generous passing grade of only twenty percent! Surely, you should at least be able to tell apart your future wife from her sisters, can't you?"

"Besides, even if we did tell you," another quintuplet added, "it would make it pretty obvious to other people which one is the real Ichika. All they need to do is find the quintuplet the fiancé is flirting with, and that'll be that! No one can mistake that lovey-dovey look that comes with newly engaged couples."

Fuutarou hated to admit it, but there was actually some sense behind that logic. It had become more of a well-known fact among fans—following the proposal—that the rising actress, Nakano Ichika, was a quintuplet. Someone who had four other sisters that looked just like her. The short time they had spent in the amusement park had already brought them a few intrusive encounters with fans and onlookers that recognized Nakano Ichika—or rather, they simply recognized the face of Nakano Ichika. With the five of them together, it acted as a strange sort of barrier—something to dissuade fans from approaching them, as they would never truly know if they were speaking to the real actress or one of her sisters.

And consequently, that applied to Fuutarou himself as well.

"I've never won in any of these things. You know that." He loudly sighed. "And either way, you girls play dirty. It always comes down to lies and tricks so that I can mess up and make a fool of myself. Forget it. I'm not suffering through an unwinnable game."

One of the quintuplets snuck behind his shoulder, playfully leaning over. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, Fuutarou. Weren't you able to figure out that Miku was the one who was in trouble the other day?"

Fuutarou scrunched his brow. "Did I?"

"You really don't remember?"

After a while, he shrugged. "It was probably obvious. Ichika might have said her name first, Or maybe I recognized Miku's headphones. Yeah, that was probably it."

She shook her head, as if she were unconvinced before he even began. "Mm… no, I don't think that's it. Miku wasn't wearing her headphones that day. She left them back in the hotel room. Even if she did have them, you wouldn't be able to see it so easily in that kind of crowd, unless you were a lot closer. But you recognized her from a distance. Why do you think?"

"That…" Fuutarou mulled over the thought. Did it really happen in the way she said it did? He could recall the details, but whatever was running through his mind at the time was nothing more than a vague recollection. "It was just… a hunch or something. No, it was more like dumb luck."

Another quintuplet had snuck her way to him—closer so that he could see the flutter of her eyelashes that came with the starry look in her eyes. She pointed a nail against the left side of his chest, and with a blithe tone, she said, "You know exactly what it is, Fuutarou. All you need is—love. That's it."

Fuutarou stood there, puzzled. There it was again—that enigmatic answer that always left more questions than it answered. Still, after all these years, he could make neither sense nor reason over the words their late grandfather had taught him. He remembered pestering him; he remembered insisting over and over, and still, the answer would always be the same. If he were still alive, Fuutarou would have tried everything in his power to piece together the secret to telling the quintuplets apart with as little as a single glance.

He recalled one of their last conversations together, some time ago.

"That doctor was just like you, boy," the quintuplets' grandfather said with an amused chuckle. They sat on old fold-up chairs along river bank, dully watching their fishing lines as it swayed in the water. "It shouldn't be this hard."

"Doctor?" Fuutarou had asked. "You mean Nakano Maruo-san? He couldn't get it either?"

"Mm… but he learned much faster. Much faster than you. How long have you known my girls?"

"How long? Er… about…" He stalled time by reeling the fishing line, prompted only by the vague twitch of the rod. He sighed, looking at the empty hook. "…about three years now, sir. Almost four."

Again, the old man chuckled. "My, that is quite a while. The girls are always talking about how smart you are, but you still can't tell them apart without any help? That Nakano boy only took one year."

"Well, that's because—" Fuutarou stopped himself. What good would giving an excuse do now? Just what was he trying to prove? "Never mind. I just don't really get it. What did Maruo-san figure out that I couldn't? There had to have been something, but I don't know how he'd respond if I asked him that."

"No one tells a bird which way to fly," the old man began. "No one tells the fish which rivers eventually flow into the ocean. They simply know. That's all there is to it."

Just how it was then, and just how it was in the present, Fuutarou could only respond after a short silence with a single, "Huh…?"

The quintuplet beside him patted him on the shoulder, breaking him away from his short remembrance. "Well," she said, stepping back and joining the rest of the sisters as they had already begun their way to the next attraction. "You have the whole day to figure it out! For now, just focus on having fun. Come on!"

There were a few special rules that came with this version of The Quintuplet Game. A couple of nudges in his favor—much to his surprise—that shed the bits of mischief and trickery Fuutarou was always wary of, whenever the quintuplets agreed with something. A promise to fairness. The first rule was that he only needed to guess one of them correctly. His partner; his fiancée. In their own words, it should have been obvious years ago, but with the time they had spent apart, the Nakano sisters hardly had the chance to put his skills of recognition to the test.

Of course, 'test', carried an ugly ring to its name, as would any method of provoking the loyalty of one's partner, which is why they quickly addressed the second rule. For right or for wrong, there shall be no reward nor penalty for Fuutarou's final answer. After all, it was only fair. It was a game, and games were meant for fun. What better memory of a day if it were not enjoyed to its fullest? For that reason, Fuutarou had partially conceded some of his suspicions over foul play. In a way, he wondered if they all wanted him to succeed, and this was all some roundabout way of expressing that.

Regardless of those unknowns, the game itself was still a far stretch from what he would consider'easy'. True, he had been with the Nakano sisters long enough to know what parts made for their own personalities, but the further he dwelled on the idea, the more Fuutarou began to doubt himself. He had always differentiated each sister by the appearance traits that they themselves had placed upon their individual, whether it be the length of their hair, or the accessories and clothes that they wore. It was essentially second-hand nature; he hardly thought hard over it. Looking differently—or rather, thinking pessimistically—their personalities could be seen as a second confirmation, for lack of a gentler term. He would see those traits first, and recognize, then associate their personalities afterwards. Now that the five of them hid behind the same mask, it all became so apparent to him how much he relied on those small nuances.

As if expecting that doubt, the quintuplets established the third special rule to the game. Fuutarou would have the rare pleasure of spending some quality time with each and every one of them. A short date, if they would so loosely use the term. One amusement park attraction to be spent with each of them at a time. A special moment that made the lines between each quintuplet a little less blurry, and surely, the real Ichika would be unquestionable in his eyes.

"Hmm…" Fuutarou hummed, staring at his first partner, that looked at him with a crooked brow.

"You okay there, Fuutarou?" the quintuplet responded, touching her fingers to her cheek. "Do I have something on my face?"

"I'm just trying to figure out who you are…" His eyes narrowed further. The quintuplet he was with wore a white oversized t-shirt, which she tucked into her denim shorts. On top of her head, she wore a black baseball cap. "There has to be something that gives it away. How can your grandfather and your dad be so sure just by glancing at you…" He mumbled to himself again. "There has to be some secret or something I'm not getting…"

"I don't think staring at me that intensely is going to give you answers," she said with a halfhearted chuckle. "Honestly, It just makes you look like a creep, Fuutarou…"

"Quick, what does that sign say over there?"

"Wha—"

"The line is moving, quick!"

"It's umm… I—I don't know? It looks like it's English, but the way it's written is all—"

Fuutarou snapped his fingers, startling her. "Aha! That narrows it down! Nino or Ichika would have been able to read that; they both know English! That means you aren't—wait, no." He scowled at himself. "No, that doesn't answer anything. Nino also has bad eyesight, and if you aren't wearing your contacts today, then that means I can't rule out that you're Nino. And if you're Ichika, then it's possible you could…"

"Fuutarou…" she shook her head. "You're not seriously thinking of using that kind of method to narrow it down, are you?"

He threw his hands up as he shrugged, as if already giving up. "What else can I possibly work with? It's not like I'll suddenly figure it out, after all of these years of getting you all mixed up."

"Still, I don't think going at this with brute force is any better. We're here to have fun, remember? Look! It's almost our turn in line." She excitedly gestured forward. Colorful teacups over saucer plates scattered over a revolving floor, sculpted to a shape that could fit groups of two to five in a circle. A staple to the amusement park—the famous, and possibly nauseating, Spinning Teacups. Her finger traced the outer brim of her baseball cap, tilting it ever so slightly to obscure the secrets her eyes could reveal. "The answer should be undeniable to you by the end of the day. I am sure of it, Fuutarou. You truly do love Ichika so—"

"Look! Over there! Are those Giant Churros?!"

A short silence fell between them. Stiff, just like the pose of Fuutarou's extended arm and finger, left pointing to a random food stall in the distance. Their eye met once in narrowed gazes, picking apart the other in face and expression, until they both came to a conclusive answer. One step ahead, the participants in the line moved. One step backward, the quintuplet marched up to him.

"Fuutarou…" Her thinned patience crept into her words as she scolded. "Are you even taking this seriously? Like, at all?!"

"I—I am!" he replied. "I was just thinking that—"

"Thinking what? Let me guess—you were thinking that the real Itsuki would be so easily fooled that she would react if you pointed out food? Do you really think it would be that simple?" She crossed her arms, leering at him. Before he could move his lips, she continued, "Well, I'd hate to disappoint you, Fuutarou, but all of us are taking this just as seriously. If you think that you can worm your way through this by using cheap tricks like that, then…"

She cut herself off with an abrupt groan between her teeth, turning back. Her voice dropped to a mumble, barely able to reach his ears as they slowly moved towards the front of the line. "…then it feels like you hardly know us at all. Do you really think we're that stupid…?"

Slowly, they made their way to the ride, towards the directed teacup the operator gestured to. The quintuplet tugged the collar of her shirt, mumbling short sounds to herself. She thanked the fact that they spoke in Japanese, but that could not completely erase the embarrassment she felt for getting a little too heated over their disagreement. She told herself that she should have been more level-headed, more composed. This was only Fuutarou's first interaction that day, and it was not as if he would comply so effortlessly. Would it not set a bad precedence if she were to ruin the game this early in? Perhaps, she thought, that she should apologize. Or, at the very least, she should say something—anything—so that their last words for the rest of their time together would not just be her and her harsh words.

She reached the top-most step of the teacup, just before the opened door to their seats. Fuutarou trailed behind her, placing one foot onto the ceramic-like step. Though it was short, the seconds that were spent in silence behind this quintuplet had stirred something inside of him. Her anger was justified—that much he could fault himself for. And he knew that he should have apologized, but for some reason, Fuutarou felt her words entering the further parts of his mind, instead replaced with something he could only surmise as an illusion. Something that drew the back of his palm over his eyes, as if he really was just seeing things.

But if he were to throw away any doubts, then it looked as if the hair she tucked so neatly into her baseball cap had suddenly shown to long strands, curling as it reached far down her back. He saw the rims of her glasses that floated above her nose.

"You…" Fuutarou stared. "You really are… Itsuki, aren't you?"

The quintuplet's eyes widened.

She quickly reached above her head, believing that somehow her disguise had slipped. No, it was still there. Then, how did he—

"How did you—?!" the thought leapt from her mind and out of her mouth, so suddenly, that the youngest quintuplet could not think of a quick enough excuse to refute him. "I—I—I mean, that isn't—I, err… I didn't—"

He entered the teacup, sitting opposite of her as the employees locked the door behind him. That flushed look on Itsuki's face was enough for him to confirm it, and for the first time that morning, Fuutarou felt as if he could relax. He leaned back, letting out a deep breath. "So, I was actually right."

From the opposite end of his teacup seat, the young woman met his look with a deeply fixated glare, the sides one of her cheeks puffing out along with the twist of her lip. Slowly she took off her baseball cap, and while doing so, pulling off the mesh wig liner that held back the bulk of her long, rose-colored hair. Lock by lock, the strands cascaded past her shoulders and down her back, turning to curls as she undid the bothersome hairpins, until one last lock naturally curled on top of her head.

"How did you know…?" Itsuki asked, guiltily.

"I'm not quite sure," answered Fuutarou, pressing a knuckle to his chin.

"Was it just a lucky guess then? I was sure I didn't do anything that gave it away. There shouldn't have been any…"

"It wasn't a guess. I can't really explain it right now, but somehow… I just knew?"

Nearby, the last of the teacups had their doors locked, and the ride operators had assumed their positions. Itsuki twiddled with the ends of her newly unshackled hair, unsure of what to make of these next few moments they had together. "The, um… the purpose of this," she muttered, "the point of this game was to figure out who was Ichika between the five of us…"

"Mhm? Yeah, I understood that already."

The ride slowly came to a start, bringing the central revolving belt to a steady speed. Again, Itsuki distracted herself—anything to keep her from looking directly at the eyes across her seat. A strange, yet deeply curious thought, had somehow surfaced amidst these short seconds they were together. Something she would consider unlikely, unwelcoming, and unpalatable to some sense, yet the thought kept replaying over and over, until it came back in the sound of her own voice.

"All you need is love!"

Fuutarou raised his brow, watching as the youngest quintuplet kept shaking her head. "You okay…?"

"There has to be some other reason!" Itsuki blurted out. "How did you figure it out? Tell me!"

"I, um, I told you. I just had a feeling."

Itsuki flinched. "Wh… what kind? What kind of feeling?!"

"What kind? How am I supposed to know?"

"I refuse to accept that! It had to have been a lucky guess! There's no other way."

"What's gotten into you?" Fuutarou said. "Why are you so persistent with this?"

"Because I know you're hiding something! You've been looking away since the first time I asked. See? You're doing it right now!"

Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "You know what? Fine! Since you won't get off my back, I'll admit… something tipped me off."

"See! I was right!" Itsuki pumped a fist. "Of course, there had to have been something. You're still incapable of telling us apart, after all these years. I guess you really did get lucky. Nothing else about it."

"I didn't say that," Fuutarou interjected. "True, I was confused at first. I came in expecting that you could have been Ichika, but after a while, I realized there was no chance you could have been Ichika."

"Hm? And what was that, Uesugi-kun?" Itsuki stared at him. "What made you so sure?"

"It was… after you told me to start taking this game more seriously. You were right; I was approaching this all wrong. I realized it's been too long for me to still be mistaking all five of you. It was like, a wake up call for me, I guess. And so I kept thinking about what you said, and it made me realize something. When I saw you, I suddenly… felt something." He stopped himself. "And I guess that was it."

"Huh? Wait, that's it?!" Itsuki leaned forward. "You were about to say something else! Spit it out!"

"Look, it was a lucky guess then. There, you happy?"

"No! You're avoiding it now! That's the complete opposite of what you said!"

"What? Now you won't take that as an answer? Can you please just make up your mind? It's so damn annoying."

"A—Annoying?" Itsuki leaned even further, standing over her seat and grabbing. "How rude! I'm only asking you because I have some suspicion. I just need you to admit it!"

"Well if you know it then you don't have to ask me. Now, sit back down, before you make fools out of both of us."

She puffed her cheeks. "That is so like you, Uesugi-kun! Can you answer one thing without coming off as a tactless, insensitive, and completely lacking in any sense of decency at al—"

Fuutarou clicked his teeth, and to Itsuki's surprise, the young man had slammed his hands down, as one would when angrily standing up from their desk. "There! That right there is why! That is how I know it's definitely you, Itsuki! No one else could possibly piss me off more than you!"

Itsuki reeled back, stunned. "H… H—HUH?! Pardon me?!"

"You heard me! You annoy the hell out of me! It's been like that ever since the day I met you!"

"You sure have a lot to say, Uesugi-kun!" Itsuki tightly gripped the steering wheel and turning their teacup a few revolutions faster. "Well, let's hear it, you fat-headed bookworm!"

"Oh, you bet I do, you curry-eating she-demon!" Fuutarou leaned closer, turning the wheel even faster. "I've got a lot of things to get off my chest with you! It's because of you my life became a living hell! You're my own personal pandora's box, and every moment I spend with you brings nothing but disaster!"

"Oh, well isn't that a relief!" Itsuki turned the wheel even faster, tipping both of them off balance. "The way you say it makes it sound ALMOST as bad as spending another minute—no, another SECOND—with someone of the likes of YOU! In fact, being stuck in the same ride with you makes me absolutely sick to my stomach!"

"You sure that isn't because you're too weak to handle a kiddie ride like this?" Fuutarou gave one final, powerful twist of the steering wheel, sending them both plopping down onto their seats, yet neither of them were willing to be the first to let go of the wheel. "Well? Ready to give up, meatbun monster?"

"Th… this?!" Itsuki's fingers twitched over the wheel, letting go of one hand to press back the long strands of her flailing hair. "This is nothing! You're the one who should—whoa, whoa! Hold on!"

"Give up already, Itsuki!"

"Not before you do, Uesugi-kun!"

Outside, the four other Nakano quintuplets watched a peculiarly fast spinning teacup as it neared, breaking apart pieces of a churro between themselves. The teacup would only spin faster and faster, muffling the bantering of the two participants inside, turning their shapes to a misshapen, chaotic blur.

"Well." One of the quintuplets laughed. "Those two sure look like they're having fun!"

As the minutes trickled by, the world around him had slowly regained its form. Blurs settled back to shapes, tinted to the bright shades and hues of a festive wonderland. The sounds of shouts, hollers, and music had become less of a rattle to his brain, and for once he felt well enough to drag his sight further from the asphalt beneath his shoes. Steadily, so as to not disturb that unpleasant feeling gathering at the back of his throat.

"Here."

A bottle of water was held out in front of him. Fuutarou's eyes slowly traced the sleeves of her collared argyle sweater, finding the concerned look of this hour's Nakano quintuplet. She wore a dark pleated tulip skirt with her pastel pink sweater partially tucked, and she carried around a designer clutch handbag. On her head, she wore black beret, with gold-toned embroidery on the side. "Is your head feeling alright, Fuutarou?" she asked.

"It's gotten better. Thanks," he replied, pressing a finger to his temple.

"Did you still need a few more minutes?" She took a seat beside him, leaning her neck to catch a glimpse of the look on his face as she chuckled. "You and Itsuki looked awful after you stepped out of that last ride. Just what were you two going on about?"

Fuutarou groaned. "Don't look at me. She was the one who started it."

"What are you two? Kids?"

"What the hell is wrong with that girl?" He looked past the thinning parts of the crowd beside their bench, towards the outside of one of the park's many souvenir shops. The park-themed merchandise spilled out of the opened doorway, hosted on racks and tables with thousands of goods to choose from, and the four other Nakano sisters happily perused each and every one for the perfect souvenir. Though, one in particular found that the best way to savor the memory of the trip was between savory bites and sweet treats, fixated only on the corndogs and cotton candy of the nearby food vendor.

"How can Itsuki still have an appetite after all of that?" Fuutarou grimaced, still feeling a twist in his belly. "Her stomach is not human. I mean, what the hell is that?!" He watched as the ravenous quintuplet was handed a large leg of turkey, wrapped in parchment paper, that required both her hands to properly hold.

"Don't act like you're surprised, Fuutarou." The quintuplet beside him laughed. "You should know Itsuki enough by now. That girl will always have room for something tasty, no matter what. And speaking of that.." She paused for a moment, brushing aside the strands of hair that poked from underneath her beret. Nothing slipped from her disguise, and surely, there was nothing on her right now that could be a dead giveaway. "Though, we were all pretty shocked. No one was expecting you to recognize someone who wasn't Ichika."

"Compared to your father, I'm behind a couple of years," Fuutarou replied with a hint of bitterness. "To be honest, I still don't get it. It almost feels like dumb luck."

"Hmm… well, do you think it was just luck?"

He mulled it over, then shook his head. "No. No, I wouldn't say that. At the time, I was confident it was Itsuki. Though, I can't explain why…"

"Then, you admit it's love?"

"You know, it feels really weird saying that about my fiancée's sisters. Actually, it feels weird saying that about anyone's sisters. Especially while I am talking to them."

She laughed, amused by the thought. "We won't hold it against you. After all, it is the only way you can know for sure."

"There's that answer again…" He sighed. "And I still have as many questions as I did the first time. But before I go answering that…" He stood, facing the quintuplet on the bench. "I'll have to figure out who you are first."

"Oh? And who do you think I am?" She smiled, tilting her neck. "Surely you realize by now that you made this game a lot harder for yourself, didn't you, Fuutarou?"

He forced something like a smirk, a few heartbeats excessive of complete confidence. "Well, unlike some girls I know, a score of twenty percent is downright pathetic. I've never received anything that low in my life, and I'm not about to let your silly little game be the first."

The quintuplet stood, getting a walking start to their next location. "Leave it to you to figure out how to say something so dorky, yet somehow a little cool at the same time. Well, then let's find out. Let's see for sure if it wasn't just you being a little lucky, or…" She turned, a mischievous grin lining her lips. "…or if you happen to love Itsuki a little more than me."

"Don't start telling those nausea-inducing jokes now. I can already feel it coming back…"

With a quick farewell wave to the others, Fuutarou and his mystery partner journeyed through the immediate area of the amusement park. Because of their delayed start, the two found themselves running short on time, with many of the nearby rides crowding up in their waiting lines. Adding in their hesitation, the minutes continued to trickle, and with it, their options could only narrow.

She dangled a small phone charm. Three simple circles to silhouette a cartoon mouse, tied to a thin string. "You bought one for me too?" she asked, surprised, as they walked out of the store. "You didn't have to go through the trouble."

"It's no big deal. I was already getting one for Raiha," said Fuutarou. "And besides, it looks like your sisters were doing a little souvenir shopping before we left. You'd be missing out because of this game, so I figured you'd want to have something too."

She smiled. "Oh. Well, that really was thoughtful of you, Fuutarou. Thank you. Though…" She took a glance around the crowded area. "Besides that, we have a bit of a problem. Look at all these people that showed up! That place is swarming!"

"It can't be helped," replied Fuutarou, checking the time. Fifteen past noon. "It's peak time right about now. The park is going to be a lot more crowded from here."

"We should still ride something, but look at the wait times. They're over thirty minutes long."

"The only thing I see with short enough lines are the kiddie ones. Maybe if we check in a different side of the park, there might be—"

There was a tug at his sleeve. "No time! Anything is better than just standing around doing nothing. How about that one over there?" She asked him, already beginning to move them in the direction. From the outside, the line seemed to have one of the largest crowds they had seen yet. That much was further confirmed as more guests continued to line up behind them, eventually inflating expected wait times to almost twice as long compared to when they first queued up. To their luck, the line for this attraction seemed to move a lot faster than the others, constantly loading park guests into small boats that gently meandered along a lazy river.

Before long, it was their turn. Their boat bobbed along the narrow canal, nudging them shoulder-to-shoulder as they entered the entered a dark tunnel. The clamor of the busy amusement park was slowly drowned out, with a short lapse of their boat splashing along the gentle current, until the delightful sounds of a fanciful melody echoed along the tunnel walls. In only a few short seconds, these mellow waves had carried them to another, smaller world. A world that felt far away from the troubles of their day-to-day lives. A happy sort of place where problems felt the smallest they could ever be as they returned to that peculiar sense of wonder and awe of bygone juvenescence.

The melody played on and on. A cadence that commanded the up-and-down, back-and-forth motions of the mechanical puppets. They sung and they spun; they danced and they twirled. Just as they started to become familiar, another wind of the river would bring them to a new corner of the tiny world, with new sights and sounds that still attached themselves to that same tireless melody. And on and on it went.

In the short interlude, where the song fell its most silent, transitioning between settings, and before the next loop, Fuutarou finally glanced at his partner. "You've been pretty quiet this whole time, Nino."

He saw how suddenly her shoulders tensed, and just like her sister before her, there was no hiding the fluster that filled her face, visible even within the dimmed tunnel. She spared herself a few moments, then sighed. "Hmph. So, I guess it wasn't just luck after all…"

She pulled off her beret, flattening out the fabric as the loosened bun of her hair came unfurled, falling shortly past both shoulders. From underneath her sleeves, the quintuplet rolled out two dark-colored scrunchies, which she then fixed through her hair to medium-length pigtails. With a short flick of her fingers behind her neck, she continued, "Yeah, yeah. You're correct. Good for you, I guess. Congratulations."

Their boat traveled through another section, silent.

Fuutarou scratched the back of his head. "It's a little… umm… how do I say this…"

"A little awkward now, huh?" Nino finished. "You don't have to tell me that. You know, you could have waited until after the ride was over. What? Are you disappointed after you found out it was me?"

"It's nothing like that."

"Then what? Were you expecting me to be more shocked? Or were you just waiting for me to ask how you figured it all out, so you could explain your big, oh-look-how-smart-I-am plan to me?"

"Actually… I had a feeling it was you before we got on the ride."

"And yup, there it is." Nino leaned on her elbow. "Then go ahead and explain what that 'feeling' is, or maybe what you think it is. After all, you were so insistent that it wasn't love."

"Maybe I was wrong…" Fuutarou said bluntly. The look in his eyes fixated only at her, sending a sudden chill down her spine. "Or at least, something similar to that. I think I understand it now. What it really means…"

Nino tried to respond, but realized there were no words that could quickly form. How strange. She was so sure of herself. From their mother, to their grandfather, to their father and amongst themselves, there should have been no other answer when it came to telling them apart. Perhaps, deep down, Nino was expecting—no, she was relying—on the possibility that all of this was the result of some stroke of luck, or some slip-up from her part, that gave it all away.

Love.

That rose-tinted word that attached itself to the youthful fantasies in her head, seeping its way to her cheeks. That visceral word that stamped the ones she held dearest to herself, unwavering, no matter the years that had would and will go by. It was that simple word, spewed on and on, as if it were never foreign to her. But, as the bare reminiscence of feelings long buried began to resurface, she would be reminded that it could become the harshest feeling of all. That painful, bittersweet word.

And just as Nino feared, they both were thinking the exact same thing.

"Nino…" Fuutarou began. "Back then… I—"

"Stop…" She bit her lip. Anything to stop the tears that slowly gathered in her eyes. She placed the beret back on her head, tugging the front. "Why now? At a time like this? No one asked you to do this. All you had to do… all you needed to do was figure out which one of us was Ichika."

"I know. And I'm sorr—" He stopped himself, slowing shaking his head. "No, there is something else I should apologize to you for. It's something that's been bothering me all this time. When I started spending time with you, I finally realized what it was. Why I knew it was you."

Nino slowly glanced his way, saying nothing. She already knew, yet, she could not find the will to stop him again.

"Back then, I wasn't able to find an answer to give you. I'm sorry."

'It's… fine." She wiped a tear from her face. "I don't have any regrets. Not a single one."

"Nino…"

"This is closure." he took one long look at the happy little world that encompassed them. The little mouse-shaped keychain wrapped tenderly over her fingertips. "Now that I think about it, I never had anything like this."

Fuutarou raised a brow. "Hmm? Had anything like what?"

"What else? A date with just the two us!" Nino chuckled. "Back then, I was just chasing after you without any kind of plan at all. It was all so new to me, and I realize now that I never had a moment like this. Maybe if I had done things differently, or maybe, if I hadn't even bothered trying at all. Maybe that way, I wouldn't have to go through with this awful feeling…"

"Nino…"

"I'm joking!" She laughed, flashing a strong grin. "I told you already—I don't have any regrets. Especially not after today. You finally owned up and gave me your rejection, so now, I can finally put that all behind me. Behind us." She sat up, stretching her arms far over above her head. A loud groan pushed out of her lips, as if her shoulders felt lighter. "A—Ahh! That's a relief!"

"R—Right!" Fuutarou nodded. "It's all in the past now."

"Exactly! Ancient history! Like, could you imagine how weird it would be to just leave it like that? It's already been like four years."

"Better late than never, right?"

"You said it. Honestly, you're a real piece of work. I can't believe I let someone like you cause so much trouble for us—trouble for me. You're blunt, egotistical, and so full of yourself sometimes. You don't know the first thing about being delicate with a girl, and you can be so painfully awkward sometimes. Like right now."

"Yeah, yeah…" He turned away, leaning his elbow against the side of the boat. That way she spoke to him could only come from Nino, and for once, Fuutarou did not mind it. It was strangely comforting, like how tough love should be. And just as his eyes once more became captured by the whimsical world around him, he felt a gentle nudge against his shoulder, as Nino's head leaned his way.

"It's okay if it's this much, right?" she asked, so quiet that he was surprised that he could hear her voice buried within the blissful melody that surrounded them. "At least, until the ride is over?"

"Yeah…" he responded. "That will be fine, Nino."

"Thanks… Fuu-kun. Thank you for everything."

Further into the afternoon, the brightest lights of day had crept onto the quayside, carrying with it a temperate wind that coursed through the pier bridge. The heavy tread of a thousand footsteps sounded off the dense wooden bridge, replaced by a thousand newer ones every passing minute. She had not been to many theme parks in her life, and with the ones that she had visited, neither of them could compare to the world they managed to create in this corner of California. No pictures could capture it; she had to stand here, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding her. The buildings, the bridges, even the emerald-tinted waters and the algae-covered rocks, all carefully constructed as if this place really did touch the sea.

Late. The Nakano quintuplet pouted, glancing at the time on her wristwatch. Fuutarou was running late. She had been standing here long enough that the scenery around her had grown mundane. That was one issue they overlooked when it came to this special version of the Quintuplet Game, among many other things. She scrolled through her phone. Texting or calling was a dead giveaway, and all she could rely on was the schedule they had set.

She switched to her front-facing camera, taking one last look at her outfit for the day. The wide brim straw sun hat she wore saved her against the from time she spent waiting in the sun. Her slender arms fit comfortably through her sleeveless turtleneck, and she had the shoulder bag to match it. A sash belt wrapped around her waist, tied neatly to a ribbon as it held together her maxi skirt, the shapes of the hibiscus print swaying evenly with the passing breeze.

"Okay." She reassured herself with a nod. "Looks good."

As she put away her phone, the lone quintuplet caught a glimpse of a man hopelessly scanning through the crowd, just opposite of her. From where she stood, she could make out the heft of his breathing, clearly showing that he had just arrived to the meeting spot.

"Fuutarou!" she called out. "Over here!"

She held up a hand, and in that short moment, they both had finally laid eyes upon the other.

Strangely, that moment felt as if it existed in a separate part of time. A lapse, formed the moment their eyes met and when the heads of all passersby had coincidentally strayed, leaving nothing but a straight path between them. In that short moment, she felt strange. Disoriented. As if that one simple look from his eyes had seen more than she had initially thought. Past this kind of attire she would not normally wear, the way her voice sounded words as it called out to him, and down to the little habits of hers that went by without a second thought—clicked together piece by piece the moment he met eyes with her.

Only when the quintuplet realized just how familiar of a feeling it all settled to, did she finally step across the bridge.

"Ah. I see. So that's how it is..." She slowly shook her head, drawing one hand over the sun hat above her head. Her eyes peeked from underneath the wide brim of her hat, the look on her face turning into a satisfied smirk. "It looks like you've finally found your answer, Fuutarou."

Despite still being short a few breaths, Fuutarou tried his best to stand tall and firm before her. "Yeah..." He grinned. "Sorry I'm late, Miku."

"It's alright. The one you were with was Nino, after all." As she pulled down her hat, she simultaneously undid the hair ties that bundled her long, flowing hair, letting it all fall neatly down her back. A few loose strands found their way between her eyes, which Miku casually brushed to the side so that it may not obscure any part of her face. "I knew the moment I saw you that I had already lost. I had a feeling it would end up like this, but still, congratulations, Fuutarou."

He breathed a loud sigh of relief, leaning his back against the bridge railings. "You have no idea how stressful all of this has been. I feel like I've aged ten years since this morning."

"Is that so?" She laughed, joining beside him. "But you seemed so confident just now. What would you do if you were wrong and I've been lying the whole time?"

"Not a chance. You're undoubtedly Miku."

"It was worth a try." She shook her head, and after a long stretch of her arms over her head, Miku turned back to Fuutarou. "So? What happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

She showed him her wristwatch. "Counting your tardiness, we still have a little less than an hour until you meet with either Ichika or Yotsuba next. You already figured me out, so the rules we made earlier are kind of pointless now."

"Oh, I see…" Fuutarou thought to himself for a moment. "Now that you mention, I haven't really thought about it."

"Well, the way I see it, there aren't a lot of options. We can always split up. I'll go back to my sisters, and you can have the rest of the time for yourself." She placed the sun hat back over her head, taking a few steps back towards the bridge before turning back on her heel. The thin fabric of her maxi skirt swept along with the breeze, ever so slightly tugging his gaze, as if invited to follow. "Or, we can play this game a little longer. It's all up to you, Fuutarou. Let's have the winner decide."

"Play a little longer, huh?" Fuutarou said, and after a few seconds to lift his back from the railings, he then joined the place right beside her. "Why not? This game isn't over yet, and what game would it be if we weren't having fun?"

The two of them began strolling along. "Any ideas of where you want to go?"

"Seeing the rest of the park is a good start." He held up his phone. "I haven't taken nearly enough pictures like I promised Raiha. Before that though, I am starving. Let's get something to eat first."

"Looks like you finally got your appetite back." She chuckled, then pointed somewhere towards the other end of the plaza. "Then… in that case, I passed by a place earlier that looked pretty tasty. Should we start there, Fuutarou?"

"Lead the way."

It was not until a while later, as Miku and Fuutarou stared down the mountainous scoops of creamy mashed potatoes, the crisp and crackling skin of fried chicken, and the long stretch of mozzarella of a pizza that looked more'shareable' than'personal'—did the two of them realize just what kind of mistake they had made.

"This…" Fuutarou hesitated, lifting up his fork halfway.

"…is quite a lot of food, huh?" Miku finished for him.

"I keep forgetting how large the portions are in America. Do they all eat like this?"

"I'll need to ask Ichika how her figure has survived this long. Or at least, it looks like it has. Fuutarou, you'd probably know, right? Has it changed since she was in Japan?"

"There is absolutely no way I'm answering that question, Miku."

"Come on, I won't snitch on you. I promise."

"Not gonna happen. Now come on; we already paid for these so we might as well get started."

Fuutarou picked up the first piece of fried chicken, wondering if just smelling it somehow carried a calorie count. Meanwhile, Miku pulled the first slice of her pizza, watching as the toppings sliding down like the slow start of avalanche. They took their first bite. And then another. And then another, until the taste turned equal parts guilty as it was savory.

For Fuutarou, that was marked with the sound of the last chicken bone hitting the edge of his plate, followed by the louder clang of his silverware. There was still a slight puff to his cheek as he slowly forced the last of it down. "Finally…" he muttered. "I feel like I'm about to—wait, you didn't finish yours yet?"

"Hm?" Miku glanced down at her plate. There was still more than half of it left. "Oh. I gave up a long time ago. I'm surprised you didn't"

"It's against my principles to waste food."

"You could have packed it to-go. That's what I'm doing. I'll probably give it to my sisters later, if they haven't eaten yet."

"That wouldn't work for me." Fuutarou held a hand to his gut. "I don't think I'll be able to eat another piece of a chicken for a while. Damn, I honestly think I'd prefer having no appetite at this point."

"Well, if that's what you want, we passed by a couple of those spinning rides earlier."

"No!"

Miku giggled. "I'm joking! How about we have you walk it off a little? We still have a lot of time left."

"That works… just… give me a second, okay? I don't think I can move yet."

"Take your time." Miku leaned on one hand, trying not to look too amused.

Some minutes later, they both continued on their aimless exploration across the theme park. One curious sight led to the other, transforming towns and cities to exotic rain forests, and old western buildings to lush gardens and lustrous waters. At some point, Fuutarou remembered to bring out the map that he had kept in his back pocket, only to realize that they had traversed through a large portion of the park already, never once thinking if they should stop. It all blended together so seamlessly—so effortlessly, just as their footsteps effortlessly followed their curiosity to no end. One moment they would be crouched over to squeeze through rocky, prehistoric tunnels, and then the next moment would find themselves staring upwards at the large grizzly mountaintop that intertwined the tracks of a roller coaster. All the while, Fuutarou remembered to capture a shot with his camera.

"I think you're forgetting something, Fuutarou," said Miku as she watched him align a shot across the high-ground view of the park's Hollywood-themed subsection.

"Hm? What would that be?" he asked.

"Here. Hold your phone like this…"

Miku walked over, guiding his hand high above his head. As they looked at the screen, Miku tapped the button that would switch to the front-facing camera, revealing the surprised and unprepared expression on Fuutarou's face, just beside Miku's wide and brimming grin, one hand held to a peace sign beside her cheek as she took the picture.

"There!"

"Hey!" Fuutarou said. "I wasn't ready for that one."

"Really? It looked like it turned out fine." Miku tapped the gallery of his phone, bringing up their most recent picture. "See? You look like you've finally started to have fun!"

"Finally?" He gave an odd look, glancing between Miku and the awkward expression his camera managed to capture of him. "What do you mean? I've been having fun."

"I know, but compared to this morning, you seem more… relaxed. It probably has to do with us springing this game onto you last-minute. To tell you the truth, we felt a little bad about keeping this a secret from you. We were worried it might be too stressful and that you wouldn't have any fun because of it."

"If you all felt so bad about it, then you probably shouldn't have done it in the first place." He sighed. "But, you girls and my headaches practically go hand in hand. I shouldn't expect any less when you five put your heads together."

"We're not always up to no good, you know?" She pouted.

"Yes, I know." He chuckled as they resumed their way through the park's Hollywood-themed district. "You girls are a lot of things, but through it all, all of you are still 'you'. You, Itsuki, Nino—this entire game of yours. I think I finally get it now. That's why I'm determined to—no, I will—make this the last one." He triumphantly pointed a thumb to his chest. "This will be the final Quintuplet Game."

Miku quietly nodded, watching every part of him as if there were any room to doubt his confidence. She already knew. Just as it was on that fateful day, many years ago. Because they were all family, it all made sense that their mother, their grandfather, and they themselves as sisters would never mistake anyone for the other. The same thing taught over and over until it was ingrained into the walls of their heart.

But on that fateful day, many years ago, they learned just what it meant to be loved unconditionally. They were about thirteen, perhaps fourteen years old. Miku was not quite sure of it at the time, but Itsuki had an important favor to ask of her. It was only meant to be a small lie. A harmless little lie.

"Wait, why me?!" Miku had then asked. "No way, no way! He's way too scary! Ask Ichika or Yotsuba to do it!"

"Come on! I promise I'll make it up to you!" Itsuki insisted. "You're the best at impersonating any of us. It has to be you! Please?"

"But—"

"Please, please, please! I can't stand needles! I'd rather die!"

"Don't say that Itsuki. Look, I just don't think it's a good idea—"

"Please!" Tears began to fill her eyes. "I won't ask anything from you again! I—I—I'll—"

"Okay, okay! Fine, but only this one time, okay?"

Itsuki's eyes lit up. "You will?! Oh, thank you, thank you! You're the best, Miku!"

But as the then thirteen-year-old Miku had approached the man in a lab coat, he said something to her that she would never forget.

"You are… Miku, aren't you?" Nakano Maruo knelt down, looking at his third-eldest daughter with absolute certainty in his eyes. "Why are you pretending to be Itsuki?"

Back then and to the women they grew up to be today, Miku and her sisters learned just what it meant to be loved. It was never something like sharing the same blood.

Love needed no reason at all.

"Then…" Miku smiled, taking slow and steady strides to match with Fuutarou's. "I wish you the best of luck, Fuutarou. Oh! And I almost forgot to tell you something!" She took a few quick steps—enough so that she stood right in the center of his view, surrounded by the many strangers that strolled in every direction. It should not have been for long, but there was just one last thing she wanted to say to him. One last thing, while they were just like this.

She took off her hat, placing it squarely over her chest, and with one hand, she carefully brushed aside the long strands of hair that fell over her face, so that there would be no mistaking her sincerest feelings.

"Congratulations on your engagement, Fuutarou!"

Round and round, the carousel turned. A steady revolution of whimsy, enveloped in the vibrant colors and bright lights of a kaleidoscope. The music chimes and spirits lift. From the carved wooden seats of carousel horses, two of the Nakano quintuplets sat closely beside each other. One had her phone in her hand, held loosely in between both their horses so that they both could see the most recent text message sent to their group chat.

「 Uesugi Fuutarou  」 (sent 4m ago.):  "Alright, I think it's about time we wrap this up."

「 Uesugi Fuutarou  」 (sent 4m ago.):  "Ichika, Yotsuba. You two are the last remaining in this game."

「 Uesugi Fuutarou  」 (sent 3m ago.):  "This game will finally be over after the next one. Let's have the three of us all meet together and be done with it. I'll be at the plaza near the front entrance, 20 minutes from now."

"Uh oh." Ichika laughed. "Looks like Fuutarou-kun got us, Yotsuba. He managed to pull it off."

Yotsuba leaned over, trying to balance the up-and-down motions of their seats as she tried to read. "Wow! Uesugi-san got Miku right too? That's amaz— whoa!" She leaned a little closer, nearly slipping off her seat.

"Careful! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" She gestured to the message on the phone. "But what does Uesugi-san mean with that last message? How will it all be over after the next one?"

"Well, there's only two of us left. There wouldn't be any point in going one-by-one anymore, because whether Fuutarou-kun gets it right or wrong, there would only be one answer left for the last one remaining."

"Ahh, that makes sense." Yotsuba crossed her arms, firmly nodding. "Oh, but now that I think about it… that basically means Uesugi-san has pretty much won already, huh?"

"How so? Both of us are still in it."

"I mean… it's you, Ichika." She stared towards the mirrored ceiling of their carousel, watching their heads go round and round. A little further behind, Yotsuba could spot Nino and Itsuki conversing amongst themselves, laughing over something. Beside her was Ichika, turning a curious gaze towards the ceiling, as if Yotsuba had found something odd with their own reflections. But it was the same sight it had always been—the same faces, indistinguishable to everyone else. "Uesugi-san would never mistake the person he's going to marry. I mean, the hardest part would be trying to tell the rest of us apart, and he's already done that. Uesugi-san won."

"Mm… I see what you mean…" Ichika thought to herself. "And it would be cruel to try and trick him, after he's come so far."

"It wouldn't work on him either way, right?" Yotsuba shook her head. "You said before that Uesugi-san can always see through you. He'd be able to tell when you're lying, and he'd recognize you the moment he laid eyes on you. Maybe even before that—I don't know. He's already done enough; he doesn't need to prove anything else." She chuckled quietly. "And besides, even if we did, I'm a terrible liar."

"Yotsuba…"

"Ah! Looks like the ride is ending." She glanced back down, watching the rest of the carousel come to a steady halt. "Come on! We wouldn't want to keep Uesugi-san waiting!"

"Wait, Yotsuba. Is there something on your mind?"

"No, no! I'm just rambling, ha ha! Hey, I'll meet you outside, alright?"

She offered little room for Ichika's concern, hopping off the carousel horse and joining the flow of exiting riders. Again, Yotsuba found herself muttering something under her breath. She never could just keep quiet. There was always something. Something that would make her sisters look at her that way, as if there was something bothering her, even if she herself did not know. Doubts would suddenly form to words before she knew it, slipped off her tongue in the clumsiest of ways, as if a part of her took pleasure in making a mockery of herself and the lies she poorly told.

And those thoughts had brought her to the still screen of their group chat, down to the last message.

'This game will finally be over after the next one. '

Her own reflection appeared on the screen as she locked her phone. It felt pointless, but Yotsuba still made sure her disguise was still kept together after such a long day. Her ribbons were always the most obvious things about her, and having it replaced with a pair of over-sized sunglasses already made it feel like she was a different person. She never wore makeup all that much, so she never knew her eyes could carry that sharp, sophisticated, and somewhat sultry look that always felt a little too far from of her reach. The clothes as well, but that much made sense, considering it came from Ichika's wardrobe. A white sweetheart neck longsleeve, tucked neatly into black glossy and high-waisted spandex pants that contoured the shape and length of her legs as it trailed down to beige ankle booties. She never saw herself carrying around an expensive purse like this either—it would normally be a heavy gym bag that slung over her shoulder like this.

It was different. One look at her could already tell she was not used to walking around in these clothes. In fact, Yotsuba remembered the first time they played the Quintuplet Game with Fuutarou. Back in Toraiwa Hot Springs when they were still high schoolers, Yotsuba was the easiest for Fuutarou to figure out. All it took was one leading question, and her entire facade crumbled. It was just that easy.

She clicked her teeth. If only her heart was never worn so clearly on her sleeve. If only she could understand herself a little bit more. Because right now, Yotsuba did not have the faintest idea about this bothersome feeling, tugging her from the corner of her lips and pushing from the back of her throat as if commanding her to speak. If only she could stop being so confused all the time.

To her relief, Ichika did not look like she was going to press on. They waited a few minutes until Miku rejoined them, and they stared at their sister with wide eyes as she told her story.

"He found me out before I could say more than three words. It was a complete and utter defeat," Miku said in the most delightful tone.

"Fuutarou-kun's really outdone himself this time." Ichika laughed. "Who would have thought?"

"It was about time," Nino said, crossing her arms. "If anything, we've been too lenient with him. It's been over four years now. Papa only took one."

"You know how he is. Probably too stubborn to finally admit it."

"Are you two going with what he said," Itsuki asked, turning to Ichika and Yotsuba. "Will you both go and meet him next?"

"Of course!" Yotsuba answered. "Uesugi-san said it himself. There's no point in continuing. He's practically won already, and besides, that means we have even more time to spend together! In fact… ah! Ichika, we're already running late! Come on, let's go!"

"Wait, Yotsuba!" Ichika called after her. "You're going the wrong way! The front entrance is towards here!"

It was early sunset by the time they neared the promised location. The bluish hues they all frolicked and sauntered under had been slowly daubed in steaks of twilight, bled to amber and rosy shades as the sky neared the horizon. Across one fantastical zone to the other. Swept along the current of fellow parkgoers. A few turns too early and too late, the two Nakano sisters had eventually found their way back to the familiar entryway that resembled a turn-of-the-century American street. Sometime during their walk, the street lamps and store signs had flickered on, glorifying the brick-paved road in golden light.

"We're a little late, aren't we?" Ichika laughed. "Who knew it would be that easy to get lost. It's like this place grew even bigger on the way back."

"I wonder how we'll be able to find Uesugi-san among all these people." Yotsuba drew one hand parallel to her brow, scanning left and right through the busy street. The front entrance made for a poor rendezvous, as guests funneled towards the entrance and exit of the park. "Do you see him anywhere, Ichika?"

"Hold on, let me check… ah. He texted us a few minutes ago. He should be sitting somewhere closer to the plaza, on one of the benches. It should be this way, but before that, here…" Ichika reached over her sister's head, adjusting the lifted over-sized sunglasses the same way she would adjust the ribbon that normally adorned this spot. "There! It was slipping a little. Now, how do I look?"

"Thanks, Ichika. And yours is fine," said Yotsuba. "Though, it's not like the disguises will do much at this point anyway. Uesugi-san will see right through us."

"Probably." Ichika nodded then began walking forward. "But it's our responsibility to see this through until the very end. And when it's all over, we'll be there to congratulate him."

"…or have to deal with his yelling." Yotsuba forced a laugh, then straightened herself. "Okay! Time to get this over with. Look! I think I see him over there."

"Serious-looking as always. Oh, I think he noticed us too."

They both waved towards him, and eventually, the three of them met halfway. By now, all the evening lights had turned on, surrounding the central plaza in the luminance of tall street lights. Here, they found a place for just the three of them. A little place away from the passing strangers and noise, where they could stand face to face and turn every last lie over on its head.

"Okay…" Fuutarou loudly sighed, placing one hand on his hip. "One of you is a huge pain in the ass, and the other is a pain in the ass who also happens to be my fiancée."

"What's the matter, Fuutarou? You didn't have any fun?" Ichika asked.

"Yeah. It's called the Quintuplet Game for a reason!" Yotsuba followed, carrying a loose air to her tone. Perhaps she was a far cry from passing off as Ichika, but the least she could do was attempt to stay anonymous. She had ran over the scenario over and over in her head and would not allow something stupid like blurting out 'Uesugi-san!' ruin the finale to this game.

"A game played one-against-five with rules made by you all—somehow'fun' isn't the first thing I think of," said Fuutarou.

"You say that, but you're clearly smiling!" said Ichika.

"Admit it, you had a lot of fun today," added Yotsuba. "I'm sure you found your answer, didn't you? How you can tell all of us apart?"

"And it's exactly what we've been telling you all this time! Do you finally get it?"

The thought entered Fuutarou's head, turning his cheeks the slightest tinge of red. As he looked away, Yotsuba had snuck a glance to her sister. Just as she thought, an actress as talented as Ichika should have already considered how awful of a liar she was, especially since they were sisters. Ichika knew the habits that made for a bad liar and was doing things she normally would not do either. The way their eyes shift about and the way their words hasten to rambles, to name a few. One final push to the game—enough to make sure Fuutarou could not fully relax with his final decision until the very end. Ichika could have been herself, she could pass off for Yotsuba, or she could teeter on that fine line that separated them both, making anyone second-guess themselves. It felt strange to think about, considering they were quintuplets, but it truly was like looking in a mirror.

The least she could do, Yotsuba thought, was to try her best as well. Until the very end.

She opened her mouth.

And before she could say a single word, Yotsuba found herself at the end of one finger, pointed shortly before her nose.

"You." Fuutarou glared at her, the golden shades in his eyes reflecting the surrounding street lights.

Yotsuba paused, mouth still agape, short of any words to immediately say. It was just like Miku had said, but being caught like this still sent a shock through her body, no matter how much she was expecting it. She was a terrible liar, after all. Perhaps there was somewhere she slipped—some habit or blunder that only she could say or do.

All she could do at first was force a laugh. "Ha ha! Just as I expected…" She reached for her old ribbon, hidden some lengths up her sleeve. At the same time, she undid the knot in her hair, letting the locks of her hair cascade until the ends barely scraped her shoulders. "You got me right away, Uesugi-san. Congratu—"

"You are that girl I met in Kyoto. Nine years ago."

And just like that, a second jolt struck through her body. Fiercer—harsher—than anything she had ever felt before in her entire life, coursing through every fiber of her being. Her muscles felt stiff, as if every part of her was telling her to run—to be anywhere but here—but could not agree on which direction.

"Wha—" Even her lips felt stiff. Quivering. The words jumbled in her mouth, quickened like the beat of herown heart. "W-what do you—h-h-how did you—no, I am not—why—?! How?!"

Again, Fuutarou sighed, as if the heaviest weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Bingo."

Yotsuba's eyes darted all around her before finally settling upon her sister. "I-Ichi—Ichika! Did you tell him?!"

"N… No!" Ichika said, just as speechless as her sister. She had never seen Yotsuba's eyes as wide as it was now. It was the complete look of betrayal—utter disbelief, brought to the brink of tears. "I didn't tell him—"

"She didn't tell me anything," Fuutarou interrupted, looking between both sisters. "In fact, I'm surprised you knew too, Ichika. Guess everyone has been keeping secrets from me."

"That wasn't our intention, Fuutarou-kun. It's… it's complicated. Yotsuba didn't want…"

"I know. You must have your reasons." As his gaze returned to Yotsuba, it was as if it had sent another minor shock through the dazed quintuplet. One look, and it seemed as if she wanted to run, and the more those golden eyes narrowed, so too did these unseen walls that surrounded her. Trapping her.

There was nowhere she could run.

"Yotsuba…" Fuutarou stood, patient.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Why now? Why now, of all times, had Fuutarou seen her? All he needed to do was find the one he was going to marry—to find Ichika. Even if it that was too simple for him, then surely he should have been satisfied with telling apart her and the rest of her sisters as well. That was enough. That should have been enough. But what was it about his eyes that stirred such painful and bittersweet memories Yotsuba had long since tucked away, deep within her heart. She sewed that hole shut; she buried it in a place where she would one day eventually— hopefully— forget it. And if she could not forget it, then all that was left was to run from it.

Just like she always had.

"I…" Yotsuba hesitated.

Faced with the vestiges of her old self—of the kids they once were, and the people they wanted to be—Yotsuba could only muster one single thought. If she could not run, then she shall concede to those feelings that haunted her. She was just tired.

Wiping the tears with her sleeve, Yotsuba finally began to straighten herself. She pulled the last of the green ribbon from underneath her sleeve, then tied it over her head in the same fashion she always did. She smiled that same smile, with every part of her feelings laid bare.

"Are you disappointed, Uesugi-san?"

Fuutarou raised a brow. "Disappointed? What are you talking about?"

She quietly chuckled, gesturing towards herself as if it were obvious. "Nine years, you said? Wow… it really has been that long. You know, I said some pretty irresponsible things back then, huh? I really did, ha ha…" She shook her head. The tips of her nails dug into the strap of her purse as she fidgetted. "Tell me, Uesugi-san, what would you expect that girl back then to be like now? Would she have been a doctor? A lawyer or a businesswoman? How much yen do you think she would have tossed into that box by now? A million? Ten million? Do you think… that all of her wishes finally came true?"

They stood silently amidst the plaza, the endless motion of their surroundings reminding them that time had not yet stood still. Yotsuba's grip over her wrist tightened, the same way she bit her own lip. "… or did she become that silly, foolish girl you found in the school cafeteria, with nothing but a big fat zero next to her name? Someone who could barely make it past high school, and even then, is still confused all the time, running around in circles." She lifted her hand over her chest, trying not to swallow the words. "Aren't you disappointed that person ended up being… me, Uesugi-san?"

Quietly beside them, Ichika fought the urge to step in. More than anything, right now, Ichika wished to be there for her sister. To be the shoulder she could cry on, and the first to say that everything will be alright. This was her own sister, and yet, the way these two faced each other felt so far out of her reach. Far beyond anything she could say or do, and all that she could rely on was the man beside her.

Without any of their notice, Ichika gave them their space.

Finally, Fuutarou sighed. "Is that really what you've been doing this entire time?"

Yotsuba flinched. Her words came off with a laugh, if only to numb the pain of her doubts finally being affirmed. "Heh… yeah, it's really pathetic, isn't it? That's why I didn't want to face you again—not like this. The truth is, I haven't changed a bit since—"

"Ah. Stop." Fuutarou held up a hand. "That's not at all what I meant."

"H—huh?"

"I see… it all makes sense now." He slowly shook his head. Images flashed through his mind, and he vividly remembered that day of their second year of high school. He remembered being on a boat, exhaustion in his lungs as he rowed through the lake. He was not alone. On the other end was a girl, dressed in white with long flowing hair., smiling at him from underneath the wide brim of her hat. "And here I thought that Rena that visited me back then had finally disappeared..."

"Uesugi-san… I'm sorry, but I don't think I understand. What are you talking about?"

"Back then, one of you disguised yourself as Rena and visited me. I don't know who it was, but she took the photo from handbook and left me with a charm. She told me two things that day. One was that she was'holding me back, so she needed to disappear', and two, that when I was finally satisfied myself, I should open that charm she gave me. At the time, I didn't understand what she was saying, and ended up falling into the lake chasing after her."

He grimaced at the thought and all the foolishness and shortsightedness that made up his past self. "But now, I get it. Everything I stood for could be traced back to that one promise. Every decision I made, and the way I saw myself—it all amounted to how closely I kept that promise. I kept thinking that, as long as I was able to face that girl again, then everything would be okay. It's the same with you, Yotsuba."

"But that…" Yotsuba hesitated. "That is different, Uesugi-san. I mean, just look at you! Compared to back then, you were the one who actually fulfilled your part of our promise. You're a lot smarter, you go to Tokyo U, and you'll become even more successful—"

"No, you just don't get it, Yotsuba," Fuutarou said bluntly. "I only fulfilled half of that promise. Don't you remember? I said I wanted to become someone people needed. Someone people could rely on."

"And you did, didn't you? We relied on you as our tutor. I relied on you! So how can you say that? Is it just to make me feel better about all of this?"

Again, Fuutarou sighed. "No, you're wrong. When we met again, I was the complete opposite of that. I kept everyone else away and couldn't go two sentences without someone getting upset over something. I studied hard, but threw what I thought didn't matter. It was more than a promise, Yotsuba. For both of us, it became an obsession."

Yotsuba reeled back. "H—huh? Obsession…?"

Fuutarou slowly nodded. "If I kept things the way they were—if I kept following that warped promise I kept in my head—then I would have never accepted the five of you into my life. The ones that taught me what it meant to be relied on." He reached into the pocket of his cardigan, as if expecting something to have appeared in that empty space. "And that charm'Rena' gave me back then—I ended up losing it in a river. I never got the chance to open it, and you know what? That is just fine with me. I don't care anymore. I've already said my goodbyes, and now, it's your turn."

There was a twisting feeling in her throat. Yotsuba wanted to refute. She wanted to find something to say that bared an inkling of doubt, but it was as if it were more than just her feelings that been laid bare, but instead, her entirety. "So… you're saying that I should say goodbye too?"

"Yes." He stepped forward, as if he were ready to grab Yotsuba if she were to run again. "Just like how Rena needed to disappear for me, that boy you met nine years ago needs to disappear too. That part of you that is still clinging onto the past."

"But, what if I can't?" Yotsuba asked, almost pleading. "Even if it's holding me back, do I need to forget all of it? Can't I hold onto something? I don't want… I don't want to throw it away like all it was is some bad memory—like it's some kind of poison or disease that I need to get rid of. Uesugi-san… I… I treasured that memory we had. I cherish all of it! I…" She bit her lip. She could not lie, even if she desperately wanted to. That promise and that boy she had met in Kyoto—it meant too much to simply throw away. It was a spark to a now-dying flame, its smoke carrying the scent of yearning and guilt with every feeble flicker. It was everything to her, and somewhere within his eyes, Yotsuba wished it could mean something to Fuutarou as well, even if it were only a sliver. If she would look into his eyes one more time, would it be the same as meeting a stranger for the very first time?

Fuutarou placed his hand over her head. "And I do too, Yotsuba." He smiled. "And I always will. Somewhere, we are still those kids who thought the whole world would eventually make sense. We are just… a little older now."

"But… I don''t think I can," Yotsuba said, her eyes still locked to her hands that fidgeted with her sleeve. "I'm scared. I'm scared of leaving that part of me behind. It's the closest thing I've ever had to a wish, and if I abandon it, then it feels like I'm losing a part of myself."

"You won't be losing anything," Fuutarou reassured her. "All it is is just moving forward. The past will always be a part of us, no matter what kind of people we become. We learn from it. We grow up. That's why I'm grateful I met you, Yotsuba. I'm grateful that we made that promise."

She swallowed. "You… are? But, earlier you said that it was something you needed to move on from. Something you needed to throw away."

"Who said anything about throwing it away?" He imitated a scolding chop over her head, just like how he always did when she was nothing more than a troublesome student. "Moving on and throwing it away are completely different things. Really, do I have to explain it to you?"

For some reason, Yotsuba only thought to laugh. It was a dry laugh, but it at least forced something reminiscent of a smile on her face. "What's with that? It's like you're back to being a big and scary tutor again."

"It was the only way to get things through that thick skull of yours." He sighed. "But… I never threw any of it away. I still cherish it, just like how you do. I just learned that I can't let it hold me back from accepting the person I am now."

"Even if that person is someone who feels like they haven't changed?"

"Especially that. If you want to be satisfied in the future, then the last place you should look is in the past."

Again, Yotsuba chuckled. "Heh… since when did you start saying things like that, Uesugi-san? You sound like an old man. In fact, you sound a lot like grandpa…"

"Wha—what?" Fuutarou pulled back his hand from atop her head, grumbling under his breath. "I'm just saying how I feel! Besides, your grandpa was actually right about a lot of things. Like about—ugh, nevermind. Just…"

Yotsuba closed her eyes. Somehow, she had lost all desire to disagree. Perhaps she was being a bit of a pushover again. Perhaps it was because everything Fuutarou was saying was the truth, and she had been too hesitant to see it. And if it were all lies, then let this gullible smile of hers savor both the bitter and sweetest taste that words could bring.

"I see…" Yotsuba began, wiping the tear from her eye. "Then, would you give me a little bit of time? Just a tiny bit, before I say goodbye?"

Fuutarou nodded. "If that's what y—"

He felt a sudden drive at his chest, almost like a tackle, and if he had not reached for the nearby street lamp, then the two of them would have been sprawled across the plaza floor. He looked down, spotting the green ribbon poking at chest. "Goodbye, Uesugi-san… Fuutarou-kun." She buried her nose deeper. In that darkness, muffled between his cardigan and the soundness of her own embrace, she watched the remnants of that memory fade where it belonged. She saw those two kids, their hands clasped to a prayer under the starry sky. She remembered the rattle of their coins, and the whistle of the evening breeze at it blew beside her hair. In that short, dreamlike moment, she felt as if she had taken one long turn on her heel, listening to the last of their voices as they faded behind her. One step at a time.

"What did you wish for…?"

"You're not supposed to tell wishes…"

Yotsuba looked up, smiling at Fuutarou the only way she knew how to.

"Thank you and… goodbye."

And there came the dusk. The dimmest hour of the halycon days, bathed in the glow of the surrounding lights. Weariness made the cold in air feel mending, drawn in with slow and steady breaths, and within that lull came a long gaze towards the evening sky. These fleeting minutes served as a reminder that—just as the world would never hurry, then so too shall you who nestles within it. The accustomed-to sounds of a hundred passing footsteps, and the endless chatter that filled between them, had become like the push of the evening breeze—barely noticeable as it brushed alongside. An idyllic parade of passerby, quickened and quietened with each passing minute.

She loved the calm. She loved her days off from work, the lengthy breaks between shoots, and the allure of her bedsheets that surely loved her all the same. Within those tranquil moments, those patterns and trails carved out throughout this busy life of hers had become that much more apparent, recited step by step like chapters until she found herself looking at where she stood now. It was a single leap of faith that brought her here, and every lesson learned had refined her to the woman she was today. As long as this world she carved her place in kept moving, Ichika would follow. As tiresome as it may have been, Ichika followed.

But here, the calm felt different. It was the kind that brought a sense of carelessness she had not felt in a long time. Alongside those she cherished most—her sisters and the one person she could call her dearest—the world had become a much simpler place, where the thoughts in her head could truly be at peace. And she so desperately missed it. She missed their laughter, their trifles, and their quips. She missed the days she would sleep the earliest and wake the latest, knowing that one of them would never be too far.

The cold air seeped between her lips once more as she leaned back, staring at the sky as if she could somehow find any stars above.

A voice came shortly after, "it's gotten pretty cold out, hasn't it…?"

They stood beside the amusement park river, in their own little spot beside the railings. From here, the famous castle could be seen in the distance, illuminated with colorful lights whose pigments seemed to have been plucked straight from a dream. Though, even the brightest lights would slowly fade into the backdrop, dimmed in the distance until it would all meld among the silhouettes of the trees and park constructs, until all that remained was the one in front of him. Wherever he may go and whoever he may be with, nothing would draw his gaze more than the woman in front of him. Her cordovan trench coat was loosely worn off her shoulders, slipped to embrace the grazes of the cool night air against her skin. The collar fell low; the lapels pulled to almost complete horizontal lines as it drooped down her collarbone and chest. Underneath she wore a black scoop neck tank-top, its thin straps the only markings to otherwise bare shoulders. Knee-length boots ran up her legs, and the length of her trench coat tapered down like a dress. Her hair was braided from the side to the back, with an indistinguishable length scrunched up to a messy side bun.

He placed a hand on his hip. "…Ichika."

Ichika glanced over at him, grinning as if there were any doubt her lover could lose this game now. "You got me, Mister Overachiever. Congratulations." The extensions of her hair came loose as she pulled, revealing short and slightly disheveled hair, which she clutched, then brushed along the lengths of her fingers. She invited him to the space beside her, overlooking the river and the bright lights it reflected off its surface, and he gladly accepted. "Wow, you look worse for wear. What happened to you?"

"Don't start with me," Fuutarou sighed. "You know exactly what kind of day I've been through; you're even grinning right now. Though, what else can I expect, after not being around the complete package for so long? You girls drive me crazy when you're all together."

"We try our best." Ichika stuck out the tip of her tongue. "No one said for you to play the game this way. We even made it easier for you, but you just love making extra work for yourself, don't you?"

He quietly grumbled, realizing he did not have a proper answer to that question.

"Well, I don't mind that part of you at all. In fact, you're at your cutest when you're a little distressed." Ichika leaned closer, her eyes drawing upward so that she could catch that expression she adored so much about him. Her head tilted as she asked him, "Did you have a lot of fun today, Fuutarou-kun?"

"Yeah…" He nodded. "It was a pain in the ass, and I've never had to deal with that much stress in one day, but… I didn't hate it. My only regret is that I couldn't spend most of it with you."

"Mine too," she said, gently resting her head against his shoulder. "But… thank you. You're always so full of surprises, and it keeps reminding me just how amazing you are. I honestly feel like the luckiest girl in the world. It's like we're all a family now."

"There's something I haven't really thought about. Once we're officially married, that will mean I have to start calling those four my sisters. I've spent the entire day being dragged around by all of you, and now, it looks like that's going to be a lot more common. I wonder if I'll even survive."

Ichika laughed. "You know exactly what you signed up for when you got down on one knee, Fuutarou-kun. Don't think I'll let you get away now."

"I wouldn't even dream of it," he replied, and took another glance upward. The night sky seemed all the same no matter where he went. In Tokai, Tokyo, and now Los Angeles, under the same moon and the drifting clouds that partially obscured it. Light polluted the ever distant stars, with the only thing reminiscent of a twinkle would be the lights of an airplane.

"Everyone's flight is tomorrow, huh?" Ichika asked, as if thinking the same thought. "I wish you all could have stayed longer. It always feels so short whenever I get to see you."

"It'll be easier if you just back came with us."

"You know it's not that easy."

"I know, I know. It was just a thought." He placed a hand over her head, stroking his fingers lightly over it. "We're all waiting for you to come back. It can't come soon enough."

"And it won't be much longer," she said. For a while, they quietly watched the gentle flow of the river. They watch the movements of the water—the distorted lights that wavered and crinkled on its surface. They watched and listened as the world around them continued to move. For just a while longer, they wanted to pause—to remain still amidst the song and dance, the music and the meander. A minute longer they waited, then another more.

"Attention park guests," the loudspeakers announced across the plaza. "Thank you all for visiting today! We hope you've all had a wonderful and magical time here. The fireworks show will begin momentarily. We ask that all guests make sure to…"

Fuutarou tiredly rolled his shoulders, expelling some of his weariness under a light groan. He checked the time on his phone. Almost half-past nine. "The day is finally coming to an end."

"Looks like it is," Ichika agreed. "Ahh… t's been a while since I've seen fireworks up close."

"You haven't gone to view any here?"

"Not really. They always make me think of home. I've always watched it with all of my sisters, and with mom, when she was alive. They're sort of… special to me."

"That takes me back…" Fuutarou remembered that night of their second year of high school. It felt so long ago, but then again, what exactly did that mean in these twenty-one years he called his life. Back then, they were just classmates. Strangers with an unfavorable relationship that—when compared to the people they were now—seemed like it was all part of a different lifetime. "The Autumn Fireworks festival, wasn't it? Nino told me the same thing, back then. I'm sure they must be looking for us too, so we should decide on somewhere to meet."

"Now, why would we do that?" Ichika asked.

"'Why…?' What do you mean? Aren't the six of us going to meet somewhere and watch the fireworks together? Look, it's already starting to get crowded near the castle. If we don't hurry…"

Ichika crossed her arms at him, and when Fuutarou's brow had only raised a little higher in response, the young actress let out a disappointed sigh. "I see how it is, Fuutarou-kun. You aren't simply satisfied professing your love to all my sisters in the same day—you also want to leave me out of my own special date with you too. That is hardly fair."

"Wa—wait a second." Fuutarou reeled back. "Where did that come from? Who is professing what now to who?"

"Hmph." She turned, pointing her nose upward and folding her arms across her chest. "If you can tell us all apart now, then you admit it's from all the love you have in your heart. A girl could get jealous, hearing her own boyfriend say something like that so shamelessly."

He rolled his eyes. "Ichika… come on…"

She giggled, turning back to him. "You know I'm joking, Fuutarou-kun."

"If you wanted it to be just us, then all you needed to do was say so. Besides, I don't even know why you're complaining..." Fuutarou reached over and took Ichika by the hand. His thumb gently traced the dainty lengths of her fingers, ending around her ring finger. An adoring warmth clasped between his palm and the fold of her fingers, brought closer to his lips as he whispered the words, "You'll have the rest of my life all to yourself."

In that moment, pierced by the glimmers of gold that shimmered deeply within his gaze, the world around her grew brighter. Like a flicker to the night sky, announced far and wide with a deafening boom that shattered across the air. A light that warmed her for an instant, felt from her chest up to her cheeks, as she stared ardently at her lover's face, shone briefly in the amber colored spark. Only then, did Ichika remember the fireworks. Her head tilted just in time to catch the shreds of golden embers dispersing across the night sky, leaving nothing but trails of smoke in memoriam to its ephemeral life. The cold that came with the evening air had sneaked in its way into her lungs, and she realized just how long her mouth had been held agape.

The warmth wrapped between her fingers reminded her that the world was still in motion, even if she was only enthralled for a moment. If there were words she needed to say, he already knew it. If there were feelings she wished to impart, then he already knew it. One after the other, in tandem and in tremors, the lights burst across the night sky. The timeless music and the narrator invited their imagination, pulled from the deepest memories of their childhood, to wander and frolic without care, for this moment alone shall be one unburdened by troubles. In peace and with those dearly beloved, the reverie would never end.

The fireworks orchestrated a show—an illustrious parade of a thousand shapes and colors in a world far above them. Fuutarou watched as new colors birthed within Ichika's eyes, like the twinkle of stars adrift—like the ones he could never find amongst the sky back home. Brocades like bouquets, peonies for passion, comets to count their blessings, willows for every wish. To Ichika, it would mean the same wish, made over and over again until the final flares painted the night sky. It remained with her then, and it would for the days to come, just as the scent of matches lingered under her nose. She tightly wrapped her fingers around her lover's, and with all her longing, gazed deeply into the spark that warmed her long after the last embers faded amidst the haze.

"I'll be home soon… okay?"

Chapter Text

Farewells to a spring left behind. Passing of seasons, met twice along two shorelines. Two shades strewn within the leaves and branches; two airs breathed between tired lips. For them, the differences could be endless, and it was not until they stepped foot back onto the familiar soil of home could they notice just how right the air could taste, or how right the wind could feel on their backs. After all, there was only one place they could call home, and spring was just never the same anywhere else. In those wistful hours, they all had said farewell to one unforgettable spring, letting the last memories fade along the white tail of a contrail.

And for the one left behind, she would stare. From the illustrious white streaks that marked the clouds, until all it dimmed to the faintest gray, the one left behind would stare with longing, sighing, if only to ease the tensions that festered in her heart. For a little longer, Nakano Ichika remained here. She must stay here, for the young actress had a little more left unfinished on this stage before setting her sights on another.

Count the days; count the nights. In April, she graced the cameras once more with her performance, just as she had done many times before, and as she will time and time again. She appeared as a supporting character,'Ruby Chang', an Asian American transfer student in the sitcom, "The Ladies Dorm", who stirred the love affair between one of the leading actresses and her recently broken-up-with boyfriend. In between sets, Ichika underwent a strict training regimen for her role as a 'Samantha', one of the main rival boxing antagonists in the movie, "Boxed Out!", directed by one of Hollywood's most renowned directors. As it so happened, the director believed that his stars should go through the same intense training that real boxers went through to perfect his film, and Ichika had never felt more exhausted than the night after finishing her last scene.

In May, she left a song. Her first and only single from her stay in America—a sole product from her years of vocal training and language study. A tune of two tongues, both English and Japanese lyrics deftly weaved like the phonetics were already familiar. Titled, "Colors Of My Journey", she sang the words most honest to her heart—of the newly painted world that sprang in her eyes, and of the longing she felt for her home and her loved ones who waited for at the end of her long journey . For her first ever song, it performed fairly well—more so than she or her colleagues ever thought it would for something deemed as a small side project. And though it may have lost its time in the limelight, her sisters and fiancé back overseas would never tire with parroting the lyrics back at her, even if it were only to make her fluster.

In June, she appeared on the front cover of a swimsuit magazine. Her figure flaunted the printed pages, inviting all guilty and admiring gazes to the heat of another California Summer. Land at the beach with a splash with a crochet bikini top for $75, or draw everyone's eyes to one of the many other pieces of the summer collection, starting as low as $40. Truthfully, Ichika had never seen the final product that made it to the store shelves—that was, until she received an earful from her friend, Erika, one day about how she found her younger brother hanging up cutouts and full-sized posters of Ichika all over his room.

And in July—the very last weekend of July—Ichika stood at the curbside drop off of the Los Angeles International Airport, carry-on in tow. She tilted the darkened shades of her sunglasses to make out the bags being unloaded by the chauffeur, smiling and nodding as she said, "Thank you so much, Paul."

"Certainly, Miss Nakano," the tall, suited man replied with a tip of his cap. "Wait here one moment. I shall get a trolley for your bags."

"I appreciate it." She sighed, fixing the tartan blazer that draped over her shoulders. Overhead, the blare of a jet engine overwhelmed the airport entryway, and she tilted her sunglasses back over her eyes as she watched the plane take flight. She took a deep breath, then sighed.

"Looks like it's finally time, huh?" The thud of block heels trod beside her, rearing from the street side door of the cab. "Two years really does just fly by."

Ichika nodded. "Thanks again for seeing me off, Erika."

"You know I wouldn't miss this for the world, girl. Now, I know it's a little late to be asking this and all, but are you sure you're alright with this? I mean, things are only going to get better here for you and—"

"Yes, I am sure, Erika. It's been the same answer as every other time. You should already—"

"I know, I know." Erika shrugged. "It's just that, you know, the chairman would have my head if I didn't try just one last time to get you to stay."

"The chairman again? I already declined his offer last week."

"It's just not just the chairman either. There were so many people asking about you at the premiere party last weekend, but since you were a no-show, and since you no longer have an agent, they ended up asking me instead. You remember Director Bennett, right? Yeah, the Bennett. Well, his casting director was the one who was asking, but still, you get the point. And don't get me started on all the others practically begging you to stay. You're lucky your flight info wasn't leaked."

"You're exaggerating, Erika."

"No, I'm serious! Pretty much everyone wants to keep that pretty face of yours here." Erika flourished the tips of her fingers over her chest, as if struck with a wound that would never heal. "You just keep breaking hearts on your way out, don't you?"

Ichika chuckled. "Well, tell them I give my sincerest apologies, but the answer is still no."

"I can respect that." Though, you mind if I be honest for a sec?"

"Go ahead."

"Mm…" Her friend hummed, thinking over the words carefully. "Well, how should I put it… you know it's like how…"

"You're thinking that it might be a bad move, too?" Ichika asked. "Leaving here, I mean."

She nodded. "I wouldn't say a 'bad move' really. But it is a risky move. Look." Erika put a hand on her hip, sighing. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but most people would kill to make it big out here, and you already know how tough it is out there to be an actress. Hell, after I dropped out of high school, I was stuck as a waitress for a few years before landing my big break. You'd practically be starting all over again if you go back." Again, Erika shrugged. "I just feel like it's my job as your friend to be real with you. Are you sure you're okay with all of that? Like, totally okay?"

Ichika stood in quiet thought, leaning against one of the concrete dividers. True, it was not too late to make the call—to turn back to the realm of stars and stardom, where every name was a connection and every phone call could change lives. She knew well enough. To some, it could be a dreamland of lights, cameras, and action. To grace the screen and have your name accompanied by applause. And all the same, it could be the graveyard of the once brightest dreams, snuffed out like the pen across their names. If the ghosts of every failed actor and actress loomed over her like the shadow of another passing plane, they too, would surely condemn her. It was the bitterness and anguish that lived in the behind every shining star. Every phone that never rang, every bite behind critique, and every paycheck that would only last until the next.

Again, she already knew. She knew that talent bloomed in many corners of the world, nurtured line after line, waiting for the spotlight to give them just one chance. Only a fool would throw away their shot. An even bigger fool would throw away the chances she had already received. However, in these twenty-one years she called her life, Ichika was no stranger to the idea of being considered a fool.

"More sure than anything." Ichika smiled. "My mind was set since I first boarded that flight. No matter how idiotic it may sound, I made a promise to everyone back home—and to myself as well. I've had my fun here."

Erika laughed. It would take another actress to pick apart an actress's genuine smile compared to the ones for the cameras, and there was no second guessing the woman in front of her. "Well, then that is that." She held out her hand. "And also as your friend, it's my job to root for you, whether you're here or in good ol' Nippon. Break a leg over, alright, girl? Ah, what the hell am I saying—come here!" She pulled on Ichika's already outstretched hand, then brought her in for a long and powerful hug.

"Ack!" Ichika managed to squeeze out of her lungs. "Erika! Too tight!"

"Just bear with it a little longer! Come on, you can take it!"

"Eri…ka!"

With their final farewells, Ichika then proceeded through the airport terminal, carry-on luggage in tow. She had gone through the steady madness that was the Los Angeles International Airport enough times that even as a recognizable actress, Ichika could easily slip along the stream of moving bodies and make her way to her boarding terminal. To her surprise, the security check agent had recognized the young actress when she was asked to present her passport, and Ichika had to deftly motion to him not to speak too loudly. Besides that one close call, Ichika had finally found herself a moment's rest at the airport terminal cafe, watching the minutes countdown until boarding call.

One hour and forty-six minutes. She thought to herself how funny it had all been. Two years ago, that version of herself seemed so young and naïve when she had stepped through these very gates. She remembered the brief panics spent searching translations on her phone, and scrolling through maps. She remembered her first broken conversation with a cab driver, and the countless times she had gotten lost in the city. Now, as she fixed the shades over her eyes and the scarf around her neck, Ichika could not help but feel quite proud of herself and at the idea of being recognized in public. In her time in America, she had starred in three films, been featured in seven films, guest-starred in five television shows, held minor roles in six more shows, voice-acted in two films, performed in one theater performances, released one single, had eleven interviews across different media platforms, had her own small fanclub and a Wikipedia page created for her.

And after tallying the many faces she wore, it all only gathered to one long, cathartic sigh as she sipped her coffee, watching the endless blue sky from the window.

"I'm coming back, Japan."

By now, he must have read the screen over a hundred times. Row after row of scheduled flights, stacked in the same sequence they had been since he first stepped foot at the passenger arrival gates, and no pacing back and forth could make the schedule move any faster. How many times had he glanced at flight ANA 105, doubting the truth in the bold characters that plainly stated, 'Arrived'? He had given them the better of two whole minutes before his impatience found its way to mutters under his breath. Every nameless face that emerged through those gates was just another person slowing down Ichika's arrival, and at some point, Fuutarou must have realized that his feelings of disdain were a little too pronounced across his face.

Patience, patience. The thought repeated over and over in his head, as if he needed to scold himself. There was no reason to take his frustrations out on the passing family of three and the confused little boy who wondered why this scary-looking Japanese man was leaning so close over the handrails. Fuutarou sighed. He had hoped that Ichika would have scheduled a more convenient flight back home, as the arrival lobby had gathered to its peak. Bumped shoulder-to-shoulder, and shuffled wherever a wheeled luggage needed to make its way through.

"Sir, please don't crowd the exit." An airport security member gestured him to step aside. "The passengers need to get through."

"Sorry," replied Fuutarou.

"If you're waiting for a passenger, please be patient. They'll come. The plane has only just landed."

"Yes, I am sorry. I'll—"

"Please understand and wait in the correct area, sir. You cannot stand here."

"I—I know. I was already—" Fuutarou tried to explain, but they had already turned away. He rolled his eyes and scooted back to someplace he could see the remaining passengers. Just as he did, he felt a tap at his shoulder. His expression brightened as he turned. "Ichi—"

But what he heard instead was broad and brusque voice, reciting in poor Japanese, "Hey, hey, Takashi!" Long time no see! How have you been, man?"

"Hu… huh?" Fuutarou blinked. He looked to his sides, wondering who the stranger dressed in a bright floral t-shirt and cargo shorts was speaking to. "Are you talking to me?"

"Come on man, it's me! Tristan! What are you even say—" He paused, taking a good look at Fuutarou's face, and in English, he said, "Oh, oops. Sorry, I got the wrong person. My bad. Uh, I mean—'gomennasai.'"

The foreigner ducked away, and before Fuutarou could recover the confused tilt of his brow, there was another nudge at his shoulder. This time, he hardly had the time for false assumptions, as the voice had come from an older woman, holding up her smart phone near his face.

"Excuse me, young man," she said. "I'm looking for this gate here, but I cannot find it. Do you know where it is? Do you speak English?"

For reasons unknown to him, Fuutarou answered, "Uh… I can speak a little."

She held her smart phone up towards his face. "Do you know where this gate is? I've been looking for it and I cannot find it."

"Umm… you are in'Arrivals' section, ma'am. 'Departures' section over there."

"Huh? Which department? Department for what? I am running late and I am looking for—"

"Departures," he repeated, slowly this time, then pointed to the opposite end of the airport. "De-part-ures. It is over there."

The lady nodded, and without saying 'thank you,' she reached down and tugged her luggage down the hallway, disappearing into the crowded stream of people. And of course, Fuutarou could not even finish his sigh before being called upon again.

"Excuse me," a man in a suit leaned over, speaking perfect Japanese. "Do you know which way baggage claim is?"

Fuutarou pointed to the very obvious sign a few steps away from them, complete with a big and bold arrow pointed left. "It is that way." He did not even wait for the man and his possible gratitude—he simply wanted to return to his spot near the arriving passengers of flight ANA 105. He wanted to be the first face that Ichika saw when she stepped through that gate, and the last thing he needed was another distract—

"Hello?" asked a voice in English.

Fuutarou reluctantly turned his eyes away from the arrivals, already fighting back the groan building in his throat. "I am sorry, I—"

And just as there was enough space to bury herself into his torso, Fuutarou felt every one of his senses pick up on the familiar pieces that stained his hopes and desires for the past months. He remembered that assortment of the sweetest and most decadent scents that warmed at the sides of her neck. Vanilla, white amber, and praline—enough to intoxicate him.

She was there. Buried right there in his arms, the coat around her shoulders still swaying as she ran into him, every part impatient as he was. The brim of her hat smooshed against his chest, slipped every so slightly further to reveal more of her short, pink hair underneath. As she slowly looked up to him, Fuutarou could finally see the faint marine blue that drowned in her eyes. And with a smirk, she said, "Tadaima, Fuutarou-kun. I missed you."

He never learned. Every time, she would always manage to surprise him, and the first words that would leave his mouth would ten at once, met like a car crash between his lips. "I—ah, Ichi—Hu—huh? Wah— when did—"

The smirk on her lips grew wider, but she spared him the few seconds to bring his mind back together. After all, that look on his face was something she treasured more than anything else. And finally, Fuutarou chuckled. "Okaeri, Ichika. I missed you too."

He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and she returned it right back. "Sorry, I wasn't there to greet you right away," said Fuutarou, reaching over to help with her carry-on luggage. "I wasn't expecting you to get off so soon."

"First class tends to get out quicker," Ichika replied. "And thanks for helping with my bags."

"First class… right…" Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "I almost forgot. Must be nice."

"Hmm? Didn't you travel with my sisters when you visited? I thought it was all the same "

"For your sisters, sure. Your father… well, he had arranged economy for me. Sorry, I meant economy premium."

"Pft!" Ichika fought the urge to burst out laughing. "He did?! I'm sorry, but that's so funny! I've never taken dad to be the petty type, but I guess he still needs some time to get used to you. It's already been four years."

"Not that I can complain." Fuutarou shrugged. "Asking for his blessings already felt like too much. I'm thankful that he even offered to pay for my ticket in the first place. He's a great guy, really, even if he still terrifies me."

"The two of you are so silly sometimes. When will you both learn that the other is harmless?" Ichika giggled. They made their way through the airport, heading towards the baggage claim area. All the while, Ichika strolled down the walkway with an occasional, joyous sway to her steps. After all, being stuck to a seat for over eleven hours did poor things for her muscles, and she let out as much of her weariness as she could in one long sigh. "Ahh! It's so good to be back in Japan! For good this time."

"You've got a lot of energy, Ichika," Fuutarou remarked.

Ichika checked one of the two dials on her wristwatch. "It's hardly eighty p.m. back in California. Besides, I slept plenty on the plane. Though, I'll probably crash the second I get home. Oh, by the way, Fuutarou-kun."

"Hmm?"

"Do I sound any different to you?"

"Different how?"

"Like, do I say things differently than you remember?" Ichika rested her chin on her knuckle. "I'm not sure. Erika mentioned that there's a pretty big difference between the way American Japanese and native Japanese people speak. It's been a long time since I've been able to speak this much Japanese, so I'm a little worried that the girls back home might think I've picked up something."

"Hmm…" Fuutarou thought it over. "I don't hear anything different. Why? Do you think it's changed?"

"Well, Nino made a comment a few weeks ago that I was starting to develop a 'Valley Girl' accent after being in California for so long. She said she was joking, but when I told it to one of my friends in America, she said she could kind of hear it too."

"'Valley Girl'?" Fuutarou raised a brow. "What does that even mean?"

"It's like… hmm… it's when you stretch certain parts of a word, and it kind of ends in a question like this?" Ichika exaggerated a bit of the pronunciation, but was not quite sure she was delivering the idea clearly. "Do you get what I mean?"

"Hmm… no, I don't get it. You sound the same to me."

"Well, it's—you know what, never mind." Ichika shrugged. "It might not sound as obvious to you, since we talk on the phone every day. I'm just a little worried if it's starting to slip into my Japanese. My friend said it was because of my'intonation'."

"Ahem, Ichika," a voice came from beside her. "It's 'in-tow-nei-shn'"

Ichika smiled, already knowing before she turned around. "Haha, you sure are strict now, aren't you, Itsuki-chan?"

The girl in glasses stepped closer, rolling two large suitcases by her sides. "Well, I am a teacher, after all. Welcome home, Ichika." She opened her arms to welcome her oldest sister. Her embrace was as tight and overbearing as Itsuki had always remembered, including every overdue hug the past half-year warranted.

"I'm so proud of you!" Ichika said with a low squeal in her voice. "Ah, I wish I could have been here when you got your certificate. Please, please, please forgive your big sister for being so awful."

"I told you it was fine, Ichika! Really!" Itsuki said between jerks of her torso. "I went ahead and got your luggage for you. I see you remembered to use those luggage tags Raiha-chan and I made for you."

"Of course I did. They are just perfect for me. Thanks again. Oh, Fuutarou-kun, do you think you could be a dear and help Itsuki-chan with my bags?"

There was a short pause, and Fuutarou briefly cleared his throat. "Ye… yeah, sure. I'll do that."

"Hmm?"

Ichika raised a brow as she watched her partner awkwardly shuffle over. There was something odd in the way Fuutarou approached Itsuki, neither of them hiding the sudden turn of their noses towards one another. When Fuutarou reached for one of the bags Itsuki was wheeling over, the youngest sister had let go of the handle, as if reeling away from a pest. The thirty-two kilogram luggage bumped into Fuutarou, and Itsuki left with a short, "Hmph," under her breath.

"Oi," Fuutarou grumbled, speaking in a low voice. "I thought we were dropping th—"

Itsuki ignored him. "I'll go and bring the car around, Ichika. Give me a few minutes." Without waiting, the youngest Nakano sister walked off, the first few steps sounding a little heavier.

"Yikes…" Ichika glanced over. "You two get into a fight or something?"

"You try being stuck in traffic with such a—". He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Forget it. It's nothing."

Ichika chuckled, taking the smaller luggage's handle for herself. "Some things just never change for you two, huh? Come on, tell me what happened. The last thing I'd want right now is an awkward car ride home."

After a few moments to mull it over, Fuutarou sighed. "It's really nothing. Do you remember those things I gave the five of you back in high school? When we graduated?"

"Umm…" Ichika thought a moment. "Something you gave us? Can you be a little more speci—oh! You mean those graduation certificates?"

"Yeah, those. It was a long time ago—over three years by now—and to be honest, I had kind of forgotten about them. Do you still have yours?"

"It should still be in my room here; I didn't take it with me to America."

"So it's lost forever now, got it."

"Hey!" She bumped him with her shoulder.

"I'm joking. Anyway, yeah, it was a long time ago. It sort of… slipped my mind that Itsuki declined it at the time."

Ichika nodded. "It's coming back to me now. I do remember, yeah. She said that there was still more she could learn from you about being a good teacher. I guess she really does look up to you."

Hearing that last statement made the look on Fuutarou's face fall a little further. "Right…"

"Ah… I think I get it now. You lost it."

"That—I mean, not exactly…" He told Ichika about their short quarrel. In essence, Itsuki had finally received her teaching certificate after years of hard work, in which Fuutarou had played a decent role in. He told her about the many times Itsuki would come up to him with questions regarding some of her students, how to reach out to the more problematic ones, and how important it was that a teacher find their own style of teaching that best resonated themselves with their students. He learned things about himself as a tutor that he himself did not know until he said it out loud. And that was one of the points where Fuutarou felt like he could relate to Itsuki, even if the two of them would devolve into arguments after a certain amount of time was spent in their conversation.

Then came this very day. Somewhere during the long two-or-so hours spent stuck in the monotony of rush hour traffic, Fuutarou was surprised when Itsuki professed that she felt that she was finally ready to receive his acknowledgment after all this time. "It took me a while," Itsuki had said earlier that morning, "but I think I've finally found my place as a teacher. I know I can't be exactly like my mother, and that's just fine. My only regret is that she won't be able to receive her acknowledgment. She was the most important teacher to me, but after her, the next person I look up to would have to be…"

When the traffic had reached yet another stall, the youngest quintuplet had then turned towards Fuutarou in the passenger seat, brimming with a smile that, incidentally, made his blood run cold."… sorry for all the trouble, but I believe I am ready to accept your gift now, Uesugi-kun."

Fuutarou did not know why he did it. Perhaps it was that pure innocence and bliss behind that smile that stripped away any hopes he had of lying, bluffing, suspending, or anything in between, but he felt as if his body was utterly compelled to say the next words so plainly and so honestly, "I…" A drop of sweat formed at his brow."I forgot where I put that…"

In the present time, Ichika, sat on the handle side of her luggage, listening over Fuutarou's recount of the story. "So…" she began with a single slow nod, "you did lose it."

Fuutarou cleared his throat. "It's not certain yet! I'm sure it's there somewhere. There were a lot of things going on at the time, and plus, I've mostly been in Tokyo for most of the past three years! I even asked Raiha to take a look around for it."

"Did you at least apologize to her?"

"I tried, but—"

"Like a genuine, honest-to-goodness apology, Fuutaoru-kun? With no excuses?" Ichika jabbed a finger at his cheek. "Mmm… I thought so. I know how you two are like, after all. Itsuki-chan will come around if you're gentle with her." She shook her head. "Honestly, why is it so hard for you to say to her exactly what you said to me just now? You both are just so stubborn. I'll see what I can do about it, okay? But you have to own up to her."

Fuutarou sighed. "You're right. Sorry. I didn't want you to deal with this after coming back from such a long flight."

"That's what big sister Ichika does!" Ichika winked. "Ah, I think that's Itsuki-chan calling right now. Looks like she'll be outside soon."

At the parting of the automatic doorway, Ichika had finally savored the crisp air of the late spring. The air welcomed her, as if the world held her by the hand and accompanied each step she took outside, like the sounds of concrete against her heels were just as grand as the filament of a red carpet. A gentle breeze weaved its way through the underpass, whispering every feeling of the words, 'welcome home,' as it lifted the ends of her hair, and the young actress smiled back.

For a while longer, she savored it. She captured every sight, sound, scent, and taste that lingered in the wind. There would undoubtedly be countless more times where she would step through these gates again—where she would see more of the world and perform in many different stages—but nothing could quite capture the tranquility of truly returning home for good.

She would savor it, for it was not long after entering the freeway that the car ride turned to the familiar bickering of home.

"You told her already, Uesugi-kun?" Itsuki glared at her rear-view mirror just in time to catch the roll of Fuutarou's eyes.

"It's not like you were subtle about it, Itsuki," Fuutarou retorted. "And I still think you're making a big deal out of it. I already said I was sorry."

"You call that an apology? Of all the…" She snuck a glance at Ichika, then back to the road ahead of her. Briefly, she could tell that her older sister looked surprisingly calm, almost as if she could fall asleep with a smile on her face amidst their bantering. "Ichika, what exactly did he tell you? Did he exaggerate any details?"

"No, no. I think it was all pretty objective," said Ichika. "I get what's going on. Look, Itsuki-chan, Fuutarou-kun knows he screwed up this time. I don't know every detail, but I think you both have had enough time to cool off now. How about we just try again, hmm? Maybe hear Fuutarou-kun out one more time?"

Itsuki thought for a moment, then sighed. "You're right, Ichika. Sorry, I shouldn't be like this when you only just got back. I suppose I was being a little… irritable, now that I think it over."

"It's no big deal. Traffic can drive me crazy too, believe me." Ichika laughed. "I sort of expected this kind of thing to happen when I found out that only you two were coming to pick me up."

Once there was a short pause, Fuutarou finally cleared his throat. "Thanks for that, Ichika. You were right; I wasn't really being fair this entire time. So uh… Itsuki."

"Yes?" Itsuki replied, still not taking her eyes off the road.

"I owe you an apology. I am sorry, and I really mean it." Fuutarou mumbled to himself, tripping over the start of a few words before continuing, "I should have known how much it meant to you, and brushing it off like that just wasn't fair to you."

"It's… alright, Uesugi-kun. I shouldn't have made a big deal about it." She lightly chuckled to herself. "After all, it's just a piece of paper, right?"

"Yeah, but still..." Fuutarou leaned back against his chair. "I owe it to you to find it. In fact, when I get back home, I'll turn the whole place over until I find it. I'm sure it was—" He stopped at the buzz from his pocket. His cellphone. He answered it. "Hello, Raiha-chan? No, we're not. Yeah, we already picked her up; she's in the car with us right now."

"Raiha-chan is calling?" Ichika looked back.

Her voice was muffled from the speaker of his phone, but Ichika could faintly make out the words Raiha was saying from th speaker. "Is that Big Sis Ichika I hear in the background? Put me on speaker! I want to say hello!"

"Ichika," said Fuutarou. "Raiha says she wants to—"

"I heard her," Ichika answered. "Go on ahead and put her on speakerphone. Hello? Raiha-chan?"

"Big Sis Ichika!" a much more audible and cheerful voice blasted from the speakers. "Welcome back! Did you have a good flight?"

"I did; thanks for asking. And it's so good to be back. How is working under Nino and Miku?"

"They're amazing! They're such good bosses that I get kind of bored on days I'm not working. Is Big Sis Itsuki there too?"

"She is, but she's driving right now."

"Hello Raiha-chan," Itsuki leaned over to speak into the phone. "Don't overwork yourself. You don't want to end up like your brother."

"Hey," Fuutarou glared at her through the rear-view mirror, and the quintuplet stuck a tongue out at him. He returned his attention back to the phone. "Anways, Raiha-chan, was there something you were calling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Right. Sorry, I almost forgot. I found that thing you told me to look for!"

"That thing?"

"Yeah, remember? Something you hand wrote and put inside a frame? Well, I found it! It was tucked pretty far in the closet, underneath a lot of your old school stuff. There were so many heavy things I had to dig out just to get it. Though, it's super dusty, and the frame is pretty beat up. There's also this tiny crack in the corner. Big Bro, I thought you said this was important. You should take better care of it if that's the case!"

Fuutarou sucked in his breath. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the white of Itsuki's knuckles over the steering wheel. His mind raced over countless things he could try to say—anything he could say—but all that escaped his already opened mouth was a low, "Uhh…"

"Hello? Big Bro? You still there?"

"He might have to call you back, Raiha-chan," answered Ichika.

"Do not ever speak to me again, Uesugi-kun."

"Ahaha, it's good to be home."

On the streetside, set in the shadows of the tall buildings that surrounded them, they stood facing the wide, automatic glass doors just above a few wide steps of artisan stone. Ginkgo trees embedded in margined square tiles at the front, still lush with its green leaves in August. The building stacked rows of manshon condominiums, closed with teal-tinted glass on the outside. The lobby was visible from where they stood, its cocoa brown and beige accents lit by amber wall scones.

The wheels of Ichika's luggage came to a slow stop as it rolled over the concrete. "This is the place, huh?"

"Sixth floor, second room from the furthest." Fuutarou took his place beside her. "It's nothing like your castle back in America, or even back at Tokai, but it's got a good view of Tokyo from the patio, and the station isn't too far, either."

"I love it." Ichika breathed out, forgetting the last few. "I really do! I just can't believe it. It feels so…"

"Save it for when you see inside." Fuutarou held up a small envelope. Inside was the second of two keycards marked with a room number.

Ichika took it, caressing the firm plastic between her thumb and palm. Another key card, just like the many that she had held before in her life. Many places that she once called her home, twined with the many bundles of memories that made up the woman she recognized within the puddles of the after-rain. Those doors that once welcomed her to ephemeral walls, and in turn, set her soul as free as the wind that carried her. She remembered how cold the room felt on nights their mother came home late, and how frightened they were of the bugs that crawled through the door. She remembered rushing to see the view from the Pentagon balcony the day Maruo first let them inside. She remembered the humble, paper-thin walls that made their first apartment under their name, and she remembered the pure blue of the ocean that stretched far into the horizon from a place further from her world.

All places she once called home, but knew would never last.

But here, one hand clasped over the four plastic corners that made yet another home, and one hand clasped between her partner, Ichika could catch sight of her future. A new place to call home, except this time, she wished to make it last as long as possible. Forever even, if everything she needed was still behind that door.

She took another long breath, reminding herself that there was still more to be done. "Thanks again for driving, Itsuki. Are you sure it wasn't too much?"

"Not at all, Ichika." Her sister smiled, offering one more hug. "I'll be heading back to my hotel, and are we still on for brunch tomorrow before I head back home?"

"Of course! You and I have so much to catch up on."

"Are you sure you won't be jet-lagged?"

"I'll set five alarms just in case. Besides, I have Fuutarou-kun here to make extra sure that I'm up and awake, right?"

Fuutarou nodded. "Right. And umm… Itsuki, again, I am…"

"Its alright, Uesugi-kun." Itsuki sighed. "It's been a long day, and I don't have any more energy to argue with you. Raiha-chan and I will fix it up, so you don't have to worry about a thing."

"Then, all that's left for me to say is thank you, Itsuki." Fuutarou scratched the back of his head. "So… I guess we'll be seeing you next week? We should be all settled by then."

She nodded back. "Yes, expect all of us to drive back up here. They've been texting the entire day; they really can't wait to see you—and the new place too." Itsuki shielded the sun from her eyes as she looked upward towards the building. "Congratulations, you two. Take care."

They parted ways, and after a short moment to gather themselves, Ichika and Fuutarou stepped forward. Through the lobby that smelled faintly of sandalwood and lavender, past a rock garden and the exit way to a neatly maintained courtyard, and ascended six floors upward through the elevator, the two found themselves standing outside the door to their new apartment. Fuutarou allowed Ichika the honors, and with a tap to her card, she finally stepped in.

First to her notice was the resounding step of her heel as she first entered. Bouncing across the walls and down the narrow halls, it echoed throughout the empty apartment. Tidy wooden floors, empty countertops. Walls without portraits and closets that hung no clothes. A clean slate. A canvas to call their own.

Familiar looking boxes stacked against the wall in the far side of the living room. "The rest of your things should be here by tomorrow," Fuutarou pointed out as they entered. He took the first couple of steps in, gesturing towards Ichika with both arms outstretched. "Well, what do you think? Not too bad-looking from inside, huh? Between the two of us, I think it''ll be just right."

Ichika nodded, a little more excitedly than she had led on, as she continued to look through the room. It was not as if there was much to look at within an empty room, but she must have slowly spun on her heel twice, thrice, and now four times, imagining every countless possibility. "It's perfect, Fuutarou-kun. It's more than enough, and it's all ours. I really can't thank you enough for going through with this."

"Thank your dad too for helping me look for the place. Well, all he did was introduce me to the right agency, but I wouldn't have gotten the place without his help."

"I'll be sure to." Ichika strolled to the kitchen area, gliding her fingertips across the marble countertop. "The kitchen is a lot roomier than your last place. Look, we can start fixing up our meals right here; no need to keep resorting to take out all the time."

"I think you're talking about yourself, Ichika." Fuutarou chuckled and went to the end opposite of the counter. He gestured to the open, empty space beside him. "And what do you think? We could set up our dining table somewhere around here. We could have coffee together in the mornings, too."

"That sounds perfect. Oh, but we'd need more room for the table."

"Just how much room do you think we'll need?"

"Enough to fit four other people—no, wait, maybe more! In case Raiha-chan decides to visit, too."

"Are you seriously planning like you still live with all your sisters?"

"Hey, you never know when they could visit!"

Fuutarou playfully rolled his eyes, but gave up on such pointless banter. Perhaps it was not a bad idea to keep some extra room, just in case. He turned their attention to the opposite end of the room. "We can get a couch like the one you have back at your sisters' apartment right here, and a TV too."

"Oh, absolutely; a couch is essential!" Ichika eagerly leaned over the counter. "Let's get something nice and comfy, in case I want to fall asleep on it."

"A bed wouldn't be too far though. The bedroom is right over there."

"You wouldn't get it. Falling asleep on the couch is one of life's greatest pleasures. Especially to the sound of your favorite shows in the background, and after a long, tiring day…"

"That's sounds like something an old man would say."

"Or it can be your place to sleep if you misbehave, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika gave a devilish smirk. "Maybe then you wouldn't be complaining."

He lifted his hands, then laughed. "Noted."

Corner to corner, they brought their daydreams with them. A private space where Ichika could rehearse her lines for her audition, and a study for Fuutarou to sink into his books and scribble over his pages. They picked out which corner their cat, Tappi, would best enjoy the view of the city, and which corner would best fit a book or display shelf. Imagined and reimagined, like children playing pretend. Only a handful of minutes had gone by, and yet, the apartment did not quite feel the same as when they first stepped through its door.

"You're probably still exhausted from all the traveling," Fuutarou remarked, seeing the young actress try to cover a long yawn. "Here, let me go and run a bath for you."

"Thank you, Fuutarou-kun. You're too sweet to me."

"It's the least I can do. I know there isn't much right now, but make yourself comfortable somewhere."

"Sure. I'll call the others back home and see how they're doing."

"I'll be right back."

By the time Fuutarou reemerged from the bathroom, a soft, golden glow had crept into the room. Dimmed sunlight reflected off the bare floors and onto the plain walls, slowly bringing the room to an orange hue. Light wind blew from the ajar screen door, and without any obstructions, whistled through the room like the sound through a tunnel. In this moment, a heart-easing calmness settled. Something that made Fuutarou carefully tiptoe out of the light steam that drifted from the bathroom door and down the hall. Around the corner, and steadier at the sound of soft breathing, and Fuutarou could only smile as he laid eyes on her.

It should not have been too long since he left, but it came as no surprise that it was all the time he needed to find the young actress, his partner, and his fiancée, rested peacefully, seated on the floor with her back against the wall. She was still dressed in day clothes—the sleeves of her blazer slipping off her shoulders.

With a quiet sigh, Fuutarou gently placed himself beside his partner. Ichika tilted her head onto his shoulder just as he sat. "The bath is ready, Ichika," he said. "Go on and wake up."

"I'm not… asleep…" Ichika mumbled, with one cheek pressed against him. "I'm… not…"

"Come on, you're still in your day clothes."

"Okay, okay…" She pulled herself up sluggishly, and with another long yawn, began to stretch. For a while, she sat right there. Right beside Fuutarou, staring at both of their legs that pointed to the empty apartment. The breeze blew the currents again, and the dimming sunlight turned the room a touch closer to amber. "Hey, Fuutarou-kun?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I did a good job while I was out there?"

Without missing a beat, he nodded. "Of course you did. I watched you the entire time. You were amazing."

"It wasn't a waste of time or anything?"

"Definitely not. Why? Is something bothering you?"

"A little." Ichika reached for his hand, delicately lacing her fingers between his. She loved how they felt—how warm it felt between his palm, and how firmly he held onto her. Then, she traced down to his wrist, lifting it so that she may place his hand just over her head. "You haven't praised me enough yet. Go on, tell me how proud you are of me. Keep telling me how great I was."

Fuutarou gently laughed. "Sorry. You're right." He ran his hand over her hair, occassionally slipping his fingers through the strands. "Good job, Ichika."

"More." She pouted, then rested her head back on his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah… you were amazing out there, Ichika. I couldn't take my eyes off of you for a second. I was your biggest fan, and I was cheering for you every single day you were gone. If you still don't believe me, then you're free to check my search history"

"Hah. You sure I won't find something naughty?" She laughed.

"Try as hard as you want. But Ichika…" He looked down towards her, into the round, deep blue that made up her eyes. He watched that soft part of her lips as she softly breathed, and the rosy tint that flushed her cheeks whenever they were this close. His hand brushed a part of her bangs aside, and he placed his lips gently on her forehead. "I'm proud of you, Ichika. And I'm happy that you're back home."

She smiled, then leaned in one for one quick kiss on his lips. "And I'm happy to be home, Fuutarou-kun."

They continued to sit, staring at their room as if it could somehow change beyond an empty space if they just waited long enough. The opened window carried sounds of the world outside—the passing of cars, the families returning home from their outings, the hollers of people stepping into the night of the city. A world they had found a new place for themselves in, and another new beginning among countless others, both past and the ones still to come. For a while, they stayed just as they were.

Just like that, until finally, after one last look around the room, Fuutarou breathed a heavy sigh.

"What are you thinking about?" Ichika asked.

"I was just thinking, now that you're moving in here with me, Ichika, this will probably be the cleanest I'll ever see this place. I'll probably enjoy this sight while it la—hey! Ow, ow! That's my cheek!"

"What did I just tell you about misbehaving, hmm, Fuutarou-kun?"

Chapter Text

Short hair dried quickly. It made the ticking minutes of the morning all the more manageable, stretched moment after precious moment she allowed herself to stay tucked under her warm bed covers. Five minutes more, and another five after. A lesson failed to be learned, no matter how many times she would tell herself otherwise that this was the night she would sleep early. Still, she managed. The mornings would continue like any other—propped diligently with her hips against the bathroom countertop, flirting with the sight she found in the mirror. She admired the way the reflection's lips tinged to sultry shades of red along the careful back-and-forth roll of lips pressed against each other, then finally parted with a pop.

A slight fog formed inches from a kiss, and Ichika brushed it away with her palm. Lipstick, good. A quick flutter to her eyelids to fan out her lashes. This needed a little more, and she sifted through the nearby pile of opened pallets, scattered brushes, and toppled bottles, miraculously fetching her partially uncapped mascara without so much as glancing down. Her routine continued, mumbling the lyrics of the Western pop songs playing from her phone speakers.

"Mm! Good!" She nodded to the charmer in the mirror. Her fingers scrunched the back of her blush hair, catching the water that still lingered within the strands. "Still a little damp…" as she muttered to herself, ruffling the ends a little and feeling the droplets land across the bare skin of her nape. There was still the matter of dressing herself, and so far, Ichika had only settled on a black underwire bra with mismatched underwear.

She had spent the better of a single minute alternating between different tops before the sounds of the front door brought her attention down the hall. Twenty-five minutes past noon—just about that time of the day. "Welcome home, Fuutarou-kun!" she called out. "Coming back for lunch again?"

"Ichika…?" Fuutarou replied, raising a brow. "What are you still doing here? Aren't you supposed to—"

"Ah ha ha… I may be running a little late. How was class? Oh, and do you mind shutting the door? Someone might be, you know…"

He shut the door, sighing. His backpack slipped off his shoulders, landing with a weighty thud on their living room couch. "And you're still just getting dressed? Today is supposed to be your first day! At this rate, you'll be seriously late."

"I know, I know," Ichika replied, turning to a nearby mirror. She switched between the hangers of a white and sky blue sleeveless collar blouse, then back again. The pout of her lips twisted as she silently conferred with the woman in the mirror. "But it's Oda-san. You remember him, right? From my old agency. I'm sure he'll understand. I was just about to text him and let him know I might be a few minutes late."

"Just a few minutes?" Fuutarou's eyes narrowed, unconvinced, as he watched Ichika scurry from the hallway back to the bathroom. "If you don't leave soon, then you'll miss the train."

"I was going to call a driver." Ichika reached over to her phone and lowered the volume of her music. "It says here that Oda-san's new Tokyo office is… sixteen minutes away. And the closest one can get here in about the same time too. See? I have time!" Ichika chuckled to herself. "Worst case, I can just blame it on the jetlag."

"Ichika…" Fuutarou leaned against the door frame, arms folded over his chest. "You moved back to Japan over a month ago. That stopped being an excuse a long time ago."

"Oh, hush, Fuutarou-kun." She squeezed her way past him. "Your snark doesn't help me get ready any faster, you know. How about you be a sweetheart and help me out? You remember that black skirt I have? The pencil skirt. It should be somewhere in that basket next to you."

She gestured to the basket of piled laundry laying at the center of the living room. Some of its contents laid haphazardly scattered on the floor, and some loosely draped over the edge of the basket. "And before you say anything," Ichika continued, "I know I should have finished folding them. It slipped my mind."

"That's what you always say," Fuutarou replied. "Honestly, Ichika… one of these days…"

"Sorry!" Ichika pressed her palms together. "I promise I'll do it the second I get back! Just leave them in the basket."

"It's alright, I'll handle it. Otherwise they'll get all wrinkled. I don't have my next class for another two hours, anyway."

"You really are the best!" She skipped out into the hallway, brought to a halt as she grabbed the back of his shoulders. A light smear of her freshly applied lipstick marked his cheek.

Fuutarou lightly sighed, then began to sift around the top layer, making sense between pleat, mini, high-waisted, and pencil skirt. In the short month they had lived together, he had grown accustomed to the way Ichika gallivanted through life, dodging the occasional responsibility behind a puerile smile. That much was no surprise, and he scolded himself for how easily he let her get away with things. One of these days—he always told himself—he would have to really give her a scolding.

But as he gave one candid glance over his shoulder and saw Ichika from the reflection of the bathroom mirror, Fuutarou remembered just why he so easily called this place home. He loved the way she sauntered to the melody of her favorite song as she got herself dressed. He loved how close she always felt, where every sight, scent, and sound always traced back to her. He loved the way she would always curiously glance over his shoulder as he studied, pestering him for any amount of his time. He loved that they were both complete and utter amateurs in the kitchen, and how every meal was a medley of doubt and uncertainty until sometime they plated something passable to their palates. And he loved those quiet nights when he would hear the muffled lines of Ichika's audition practice from the other room, speaking into the open air within the walls they called home.

"By the way, Ichika," Fuutarou called back as he unfurled the delicate lace of black lingerie. Not exactly what he was looking for. "What were you thinking about dinner tonight?"

"Dinner?" Ichika replied the same time a few of her spray bottles toppled onto the bathroom floor.

"Yeah, unless you were going to be back a little later. I can go grocery shopping on the way back from my last class."

"Hmm… I haven't thought about it yet. Oh! How about we have another go with that hamburger steak recipe? I'm sure we'll get it this time!"

"Ah…" Fuutarou's shoulders dropped slightly. "We… still have most of the stuff around, I think. But I don't know, I'm still a little embarrassed over the whole thing. Did you have to send that last attempt to your sisters?"

"Well, we both were guilty with… whatever that turned out to be." Ichika laughed as she did one final pat of her setting powder over her cheeks. "I was the one who forgot to set the timer, and you were the one who forgot seasonings were even a thing."

"I guess, but still. Nino and Miku wouldn't stop making terrible puns about for a whole week. Just because they're professionals now doesn't mean that it's easy for the rest of us."

"The recipe did say it was for beginners though…" Ichika murmured to herself.

"Huh? Did you say something?"

"Nope, nothing!" Ichika passed by him again, finishing the last of the buttons on her blouse. She was still only dressed from the waist up, the hurried sounds of her feet pacing between bathroom and dresser. "Did you find it yet, Fuutarou-kun?"

He glanced back down at the pile, spotting the sleek black fabric with a slim waistband that challenged the very last millimeter of her hips when worn. "Yeah, I think so. It's this one here, righ—"

As he lifted it, Fuutarou found himself staring directly with the hollowed opening of the clothes pile, where a pair of widened feline eyes had temporarily taken residence. From the moment it had taken its icy blue eyes to dilate to dark circles, Fuutarou could hardly think of reacting before its paws had reached out and punched him across the nose.

"Ah!" Fuutarou reeled back. He saw Tappi, their house cat, scurry from underneath the pile of clothes.

Ichhika passed by him again, fetching the black pencil skirt from his hands. Tappi dashed his way past her feet before disappearing further down the hall and into their bedroom. "Oh!" she said with a slight laugh, "so that's where he's been! I've been wondering where he was all morning."

Fuutarou massaged his nose, checking his fingertips for any signs of bleeding. To his relief, Tappi did not use his claws. Still, he grimaced. For a cat just shy of four kilograms, he knew how to throw quite a punch. "This stupid cat…"

"He's probably still upset with you for taking him to the vet." Ichika laughed.

"Well, Tappi seems to behave just fine when Takebayashi was handling him. Such an ungrateful little brat; never mind the fact that I've been the one that's been feeding and grooming him for over two years now."

"A bit of a thorny side, and has a soft spot for cute girls?" Ichika knelt lower, leaning her chest against the back of his shoulder. Her finger playfully drew loops over his cheekbone. "Sounds like he was definitely raised by you."

"Ha ha." Fuutarou rolled his eyes. He attempted to stand up, but Ichika kept herself over him, swaying them both to the faraway acoustics of her phone speakers that she forgot to turn off. "Come on, Ichika. knock it off."

"No, let's stay like this for a bit longer. I missed you."

"I was only gone for my morning class."

"And I still missed you this much." She laughed, as delightful as one could when they humored themselves to their own thoughts. Her fingers played with the ends of the back of his hair, twirling through the strands that carried the familiar scent of their shampoo. "I want to enjoy you as much as I can, Fuutarou-kun. Once work starts picking up for me, and with you already in medical school, we'll both end up being a lot busier than we are now. Let me at least be a little mushy for now. Please?"

Fuutarou smiled, gently placing the palm of his hand over hers. That was all the affirmation she would ever need, drawing her arms tighter around the back of his shoulders. Soft murmurs slipped through her lips as she pulled him closer to her breast—as close as she would always hope to keep him. She loved how close he finally was to her now, where she could have him all to herself. She loved the way their clothes smelled the same as she buried her nose beside his nape. She loved this little movements he did whenever she kissed him right here and right there, as if her breath could send shocks and shivers as it reached the skin of his collarbone. One, one, and one more. Any more, and she felt as if she could lose herself within a world no else would ever know about. And she loved everything about it.

An impish smirk crossed her face as she fixed back the collar of her lover's shirt. "The people sitting behind you in class might give you some weird looks."

Fuutarou reached back, gliding his fingertips over the residues of her affection. It felt smooth; the reddish smears gathering at the ends of his fingers his fingers. He shook his head. "It's fine. I'll go get something to—"

"Hmm... No. Keep it there. I kinda like seeing my handiwork on you."

He sighed. "Seriously? Word has already been going around that I'm dating a famous actress—"

"Engaged to." Ichika corrected.

"That I am engaged to a famous actress. I already get enough dirty looks from the guys in class as it is. You know that the public still thinks you're overseas, right? The last thing I want is to worry about a scandal breaking loose."

Ichika finished adjusting his collar. "Then, you better do a good job at hiding it."

"You're impossible." Fuutarou chuckled and stood back up. "Now, go ahead and finish getting ready."

"I'm almost done. But first…" Ichika sat herself down on the seat of their couch. She loosely untangled a bunched-up ball of black nylon, letting the long, sheer strips slowly drape from her arm and down her hand, then finally landed onto the opened palm of her lover's hand. He looked confused, but before he could do more than raise a brow, Ichika rested the tip of her foot rested just over his lap. "Would you like put this on for me, Fuutarou-kun?"

"Ichika…" Fuutarou leered, keeping the sight of her soft and supple skin far, far away from any decision he would make in these next few seconds. "You're doing this kind of thing now?"

Ichika winked at him, her head tilted towards the same way Fuutarou's eyes rolled. "Aww, is that a no?" she cooed. "I thought you'd be a little more excited than that. Or… are you only interested if you're taking them off?"

A sharp sound escaped his clenched teeth. "You really don't care about being late at all, do you?"

"Like I told you, I'm just about ready." She crossed one leg over the other, guiding his gaze right to the places she wanted him to. As much as he would like, Ichika had let him gawk with that same expression on his face, waiting until she could finally meet that golden gleam in his eyes. And when he did, Fuutarou saw that she had held the screen of her phone over her mouth, showing the map of an opened application.

A single colored line en route, traversing the blanched outlines of Tokyo's city street. Her reserved driver. And they were scheduled to arrive in about eleven—no, ten minutes.

Ten minutes.

"If I'm any later," Ichika continued, slowly swaying her phone over him, "it would be your fault, wouldn't it? So, you better behave yourself, Fuutarou-kun."

It was never easy for him. That dip in her voice was tantalizing. Her words were as smooth and careful as the snare of a trap, and this part of himself he was nothing else but simple. And just like that, he was beside her again. Knelt down, his fingers looped through the black mesh of her stockings—its length unfurling as he slowly, carefully, trailed further up her legs. If he had only spared a single glance upward, he would have seen just how positively delightful the expression on his lover's face was—from the white tips of her pedicured toenails, past her lifted heels and then her ankles, and up to the region of her thigh where the mesh stretched widest, teasing the fair shades of her skin beneath the thinned hosiery. As he neared her waist, she began to lift herself onto her feet, letting her arms gently lay over the broad of his shoulders.

From all the way up here, she could see everything. She saw the tremble of thoughts, halted every time he swallowed back his urges. She could see how desperately every single one of his fingers fought back the urge to embrace her—skimming the edge of her legs until it rounded her backside. And she gazed deeply into his eyes all the while, not once letting him look away. Not as he kissed the parts of her blouse just over her stomach; not as he slowly lifted himself closed to her lips. She leaned lower. Lower, so that the strands of her rosy hair could just barely graze the surface of his cheekbones. Closer, so that they can feel the warmth of the other's breath.

Ichika had already forgotten the words. It fell off so easily from her tongue; the same love she always conveyed without a second thought, broken apart from a sentence with every quick kiss they shared in between. And when he finally reached her level, she stalled the air between her lips, drawing him closer to the scents of clary sage, vanilla, and praline she adorned to the sides of her neck. One, two, three seconds too long at the edge of his patience and the only sound she managed to make was the reaction he had forced out of her. Again, she winced as he drew out those tantalizing sounds one more time.

She lifted her hand from Fuutarou's cheeks, sparing one moment to tuck the strand of her hair behind her ear. Her hair had finally finished drying.

"Ichika, I…"

"I know." She playfully sighed. Her fingers traced the shape of his jaw. Down the sides of his neck, then further down his torso. To the flat of his stomach and glided along the shapes of him that forced the most irresistible sounds down her neck. Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees.

A loud chime played from her phone notifications. Her driver would be there soon.

"Nothing that will ruin my makeup, okay?"

Tokyo was still a city. It flourished under the cadence of a million heartbeats, sounded second after incessant second. It was alive in the thousands of footsteps that had just passed, only to be replaced with a thousand more that traversed in every direction. Swept by a sea of already forgotten faces, it instilled to even the most idle of thoughts with one essential purpose-forward. There was always somewhere to be. Somewhere to go to, or someone to be met, even if it were all left by chance. After all, Tokyo was still a city like any other.

Her life was but one of those countless threads. A single line woven and entwined with every little decision and choice she made that brought her to this place in the world. Every now and then, Ichika would wonder to herself how effortlessly she had embraced this place as her new home. How many calculative, impulsive, or plainly arbitrary decisions had led them both to that perfect place on that particular city street. It could have been anywhere, with anyone, at anytime, and yet it was already hard to imagine anything else. It had already become too familiar.