Work Text:
Shinjiro doesn’t get to choose the television channel at work. Which is fine, really—he doesn’t care. It’s just white noise. It doesn’t hamper his cooking skills at all.
The channel varies from day to day. Most of the time it’s the news, which Shinjiro tends to ignore, because the only news he wants to hear is if an asteroid is going to obliterate Tokyo into dust. Sometimes Featherman R is playing, and then the tinny little theme song gets stuck in Shinjiro’s head. And sometimes it’s boxing, which makes Shinjiro feel like he’s been punched in the gut. More often than not, Akihiko Sanada is up there, because, well—he really is the best of the best. One of the other cooks is actually a fan. It kind of makes Shinjiro sick.
Today, it’s the news. Since there’s no impending threat of an asteroid, Shinjiro tunes it out. Mitsuru flashes on the screen, but it doesn’t make his stomach recoil anymore; she’s the heiress to her company, after all. She’s usually on there, in some form or another. It’s about the stocks of her company or whatever. Some stupid shit. Then Shinjiro hears the name Akihiko Sanada float through the television.
Immediately, Shinjiro tenses. Without thinking, he exits the kitchen, squinting at the television. Boxing season is over, so Akihiko shouldn’t be on the news for that. The picture plastered on the screen is also not his boxing profile, but instead a more professional one—which is to say, he’s actually wearing a shirt. A very nice shirt, in fact. A suit. Shinjiro has no idea where they got it from, but it’s placed side-by-side with Mitsuru’s portrait. Oh, no. Oh fucking no. The pieces fall together very painfully.
“In regards to Miss Kirijo,” a reporter, who looks like the Chairman, says, “there have been reports of her and Akihiko Sanada being spotted together in Osaka. While there has yet to be any confirmation on what kind of relationship they have, insiders report that they have been seeing each other for at least a few months now. Neither Miss Kirijo nor Mr. Sanada could be reached for comment.”
Shinjiro drops the dish he’s holding.
Aki, you idiot, he thinks, already searching for his phone. Technically, he’s not supposed to text unless he’s on his break, but screw the rules. His best friend is in a dating scandal. How the hell is he going to crawl out of this one? Especially since it involves Mitsuru Kirijo, one of the richest heiresses in Japan. Her name is well-known by all. Beyond that, it’s not exactly a lie, either. Kind of surprising that it took so long for this to come out; Mitsuru and Akihiko’s relationship is so deeply entangled, it’s almost amazing nobody figured out their threads led back to each other. But, of course, they have now. The one time the news catches the truth, and they spin it out for all of Japan to hear. Damn those pricks. Damn the media sharks. Shinjiro’s fingers close around his phone.
“Aragaki!” Shit. His boss. “Pick up that dish right now and get back to work! I’m not paying you to sit around and watch television!”
Shinjiro rolls his eyes. He raises two fingers to his temple, miming a salute. Or a bang of a gun. His boss doesn’t know, or care.
He goes to fetch a broom. When he comes back, the television has been switched off. Too late, though. The message is already spreading over Japan like a ripple effect.
+
“I can explain,” Akihiko says immediately. “Really.”
Shinjiro paces back and forth in his apartment. “Better explain it to the damn world, Aki. It’s all anyone can talk about.”
Akihiko sighs on the other end. Surprisingly, he doesn’t sound terribly stressed, even though this is the biggest scandal that’s ever happened in his career. If it even is a scandal, Shinjiro thinks dryly, but he’s not stupid. Akihiko only has boxing medals and trophies strapped under his belt; he’s steered clear of the media otherwise. Of course they’d take any dirt they could get on him. Mitsuru has literally everything at her disposal, and she’s in charge of one of the most prestigious companies in Japan. Not to mention she runs it single-handedly. This garners her even more attention, for some reason or another. Shinjiro honestly doesn’t pay attention to what Mitsuru or the news tells him about the Kirijo Group.
“We’ve been sneaking around for awhile,” Akihiko admits. “You know that. It had to come out at some point, right?”
“Don’t tell me you bragged about it to the press yourself,” Shinjiro says through gritted teeth. Akihiko splutters.
“What—no! Do you really think I’m that low? She had a meeting in Osaka and asked me to go with her. It was just us most of the time, you know. Anyone could’ve taken the photo.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I’m not surprised we were caught, if I’m honest.”
“What the hell, Aki.” Shinjiro wants to bang his head against the wall. He settles for twisting his fingers tighter in his hair. “I told you to be careful.”
“Uh, you told me not to get jumped by strangers.”
“Strangers include the media, shithead!”
Akihiko sighs again, sounding more exasperated than anything else. Which—why isn’t he stressing out about this? All of Japan is reading about his supposed affair with Mitsuru Kirijo, heiress to the Kirijo Group. If it were Shinjiro, he’d fake his own death and go into hiding. Or maybe he would actually die, but he’s not allowed to make that joke right now. He bites his tongue.
“It’s okay,” Akihiko says. “We’re figuring it out.”
“Figuring it out?” Shinjiro honestly can’t believe he’s having this conversation. That’s what happens when your two best friends are famous, apparently. “What is there to figure out? You’re dating her. Your relationship is on full-blast in the media. You’re never going to get any privacy, and it could end up ruining your relationship and then you’ll have to squat in an apartment with me. I don’t want you living in my shitty apartment, Aki. It barely fits me.”
“Well,” Akihiko says dryly, “at least you haven’t thought too far in advance.”
Shinjiro slams his hand against his forehead. “That’s not my point,” he says, voice rising to a yell. “My point is that—that—it’s always been you and Mitsuru, okay? Since we were in school. Mitsuru ain’t got much besides you, and you…it’s the same.” His throat constricts, and for one moment he remembers death slowly festering inside his body. Remembers thinking he’d leave Akihiko behind. “I don’t want either of you to suffer, okay? We’ve gone through enough.”
Akihiko is quiet on the receiver, as if absorbing his words carefully. Shinjiro swallows, glancing out his window. Tokyo lights are so bright. Minako would, of course, love it.
“I know, I know,” Akihiko says finally. Quietly. Seriously. “We’re handling it. I promise. It’s going to be okay, Shinji.”
Now why are you telling me that, Shinjiro thinks grumpily. Instead, he says, “It better be.”
“Jeez, Shinji, you sound so bitter. What crawled up your ass?” A pause. “Wait, don’t tell me—are you worried about me? And Mitsuru? Are you worried about us?”
Shinjiro blanches. He pulls the phone away from his ear, as if Akihiko could sense the blush crawling across his face. Damn Aki.
“Never mind,” he says loudly, as if that would wash away the embarrassment. It does not. “I hope the media kills you.”
“Aw, Shinji, don’t be like that! Come on, it’s sweet that you care, I really—”
Shinjiro hangs up.
+
When Shinjiro arrives at work the next morning, a newspaper is splayed out on the doormat like a body. He stares at it blankly, then picks it up. The headline is obnoxiously big. The picture is grainy, but he can make out a girl in a fancy business suit, a man wearing a hoodie next to her. Oh, man. That’s familiar.
HEIRESS MITSURU KIRIJO SPOTTED WITH BOXER AKIHIKO SANADA—
Shinjiro crumples the paper up and tosses it in the trashcan.
+
CONTACT NAME: Aki ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
Shinji: so?
Aki: (・・ ) ?
Shinjiro grinds his teeth, leaning against the back wall. He has maybe ten minutes, nine if his boss is in a bad mood. He hunches over his phone.
Shinji: you and mitsuru
Shinji: what’s going on
Aki: oh
Aki: in meeting with her reps trying to decide what to do
Aki: kinda hungry tho. should i eat ramen later
Shinjiro wrinkles his nose. In the back, pots and pans clatter. Shit. His fingers swipe across the keyboard quickly.
Shinji: why the reps. she’s the boss
Aki: yea what she says goes but theyre like wise
Aki: PR
Aki: think a king w/advisors. doesn’t need to take advice but its welcomed
Aki: like fuuka when we were in sees
Shinji: ok i get it
Shinji: how come you never take my advice then
Aki: you’re a court jester not an advisor
Shinjiro clenches his teeth. Instead of responding, he closes his messages, going to the web instead. When he punches in Mitsuru Kirijo, hundreds of news articles flood his screen. Most are, as predicted, about Akihiko. Those two names have been searched frequently in the last few hours, often together. Great.
Shinji: ok well every news source is talking about you so fix this shit
Aki: gee thanks
Aki: any other words of encouragement
“Aragaki!”
Shinjiro curses, switching off his phone. His boss is glaring at him, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Yellow light spills around him, illuminating the alleyway. It gives off a warm feel.
“I’m comin’,” Shinjiro replies, standing up. “Sorry.”
His boss swells with anger, but there isn’t really much he can do. He turns on his heel instead, marching back in the kitchen. Shinjiro shakes his head, opening his phone to shoot one last message. A good piece of advice.
Shinji: don’t die
Aki: (￢_￢;)
Aki: i love the faith you have in me
Shinjiro rolls his eyes and heads into the kitchen.
+
Akihiko calls him at least five times during his shift. Because Shinjiro doesn’t want to get into more trouble with his boss, he dutifully ignores it. Never mind that his pocket might burst from his phone’s vibrations. He’s got shit to do.
Some of the customers are talking about it, though. Hayami, one of the younger waitresses, comes into the kitchen and says dramatically, “If I have to listen to the schoolgirls wail about Akihiko Sanada one more time, I might just quit.”
She’s not talking to Shinjiro, but he jerks back anyway, accidentally dropping his dish. It clatters to the ground with a loud clang. At least this one didn’t break. Hayami raises an eyebrow at him.
“Shinjiro-kuuuun,” she says, wheedling out his name, “don’t want to see me gone?”
“I don’t care,” Shinjiro grumbles, hastily scooping up the dish. He’s going to have make it again. Shit. “You’re distracting me.”
Hayami rolls her eyes. She turns back to her friend, chatting something or another about the customers. Shinjiro goes back to his work, face burning, hands trembling. Damn Akihiko. Honestly. This is all his fault. He really hopes nothing bad has happened, but since he can’t check his phone—and his boss would harp on him for staring at the television—he’s forced to listen to Hayami’s chatter for updates.
“No statement yet, but those girls apparently came here to eat out their misery. Come on! At least do that at your house. Besides, Akihiko Sanada is a celebrity. He’s really hot, I totally see it, but what are the chances of actually snagging a guy like that? I’m not surprised he’s with Mitsuru Kirijo. It makes so much sense. I bet he could get any girl he wants.”
Shinjiro is actually going to die. He’s going to stick his head in the sink and catch hypothermia. He’s always hated it when the staff talks about Akihiko. It’s just weird—he knows so much about Akihiko that others don’t. Akihiko once ate six bowls of instant ramen for breakfast, despite Shinjiro warning him not to, and still won a boxing tournament on the same day. But all of the kitchen staff thinks Akihiko is just so cool and amazing. It’s bullshit. Shinjiro could easily ruin that image with one story. Good thing he keeps to himself.
“Anyway, I’d rather go for someone more…quiet. Less attention-grabbing, and not so impossible. Someone really close. You know?”
Okay, that sounds weird. And very specific. Shinjiro looks up to see Hayami and her friend looking at him, their smiles shy and bright. When they catch his gaze, they giggle and turn away, warm blushes sweeping across their cheeks. Shinjiro’s hands go clammy, and he nearly drops the dish again.
Fuck Akihiko. If he survives this media storm, Shinjiro is going to kill him.
+
“Shinji, how come you didn’t pick up earlier?”
Shinjiro tosses his jacket over his shoulder, not even bothering to put it on. Yeah, he’ll be cold walking home, but it’s not worth the time. He has to talk to Aki. “Because I was at work? Sorry my life doesn’t revolve around you. Something bad happen?”
“Uh, no. Not really.” On Akihiko’s end, there’s a faint beeping noise. It sounds like a microwave. Shinjiro strains to listen closer.
“Aki. Are you making instant ramen?”
“What else am I gonna do?” Akihiko’s tone takes a defensive tone. “You aren’t here, and if I go out, I’ll be hammered with reporters. I gotta make do. Take shelter, you know.”
“Shit, Aki.” Shinjiro rolls his eyes, adjusting his grip on his phone. “It’s a dating scandal, not the apocalypse.”
“Last night you were convinced it’s the same thing.”
Shinjiro bites his tongue. Fair enough. In truth, he still is worried, but he has bigger ones on his hands now. Like, how long have the waitresses been eyeing him, and how long has he been oblivious to that, and also is there anyone else he should be tangentially aware of? He’d asked Ryohei, one of the other cooks, but he just laughed in his face. Shit. This is all Akihiko’s fault. He couldn’t keep it in his pants with Mitsuru, so now his troubles with love extends to Shinjiro’s life too. Or something like that.
“How’d the meeting go?”
Akihiko takes a deep breath. “They want us to deny it,” he says miserably, and Shinjiro almost trips on his own two feet.
“Huh?”
“It’ll hurt the company.” The microwave goes off in the background; it’s silenced by a loud thud. Probably Akihiko slamming his fist against it. “That’s what Mitsuru’s reps said. It’s overshadowing their actual business, which isn’t good. And she’s single and attractive, so a lot of other businesses are vying for her hand.”
“But she’s not single.”
“They don’t know that.” There’s a faint rattling noise now. Akihiko is probably tapping his chopsticks on the counter. “It’s why a lot of other companies offer to work with her. Her with another CEO would be huge for profit. Merge the two companies, the economy soars, whatever. No disadvantages.”
“Except she’s already richer than everyone in Japan, so she doesn’t need some snotty wimp’s money, and she’s in love with you, not them?” Shinjiro sidesteps around a few people, trying not to brush shoulders with them. “C’mon, Aki. Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying what they told me.” Akihiko doesn’t exactly sound stressed. On the other hand, he does sound rather defeated, which is just wrong. Akihiko is a boxer, after all. One of the best. He never loses anything; why should he lose now?
“Well, what’re you gonna do?”
“I don’t know,” Akihiko says, and he genuinely, truly sounds lost. “Break up with her?”
Shinjiro really does trip this time. He nearly careens into an old woman, who huffs and waddles away. He ends up skinning his knee on the pavement, tearing a hole in his pants in the process. Great. He curses, dragging himself away from the generally populated sidewalk.
“You are not gonna dump her,” he says darkly. “Listen to me, Aki. You dump her, I’m gonna beat your ass.”
“I don’t want to.” Slurping noises in the back. Akihiko’s ramen must be ready. “But her reps keep saying I’m nothing. Shit, my family burned up in a fire, Shinji. I can’t give her anything. The only thing I’ve got is our time at Port Tatsumi and the boxing gig, which isn’t exactly on par with her reputation.”
Shinjiro hobbles over to a wall, examining his knee. Blood trickles down his leg. He winces. “What does Mitsuru say?”
“Oh.” For the first time, Akihiko breathes out a laugh, something sharp and relieved. “She’s pissed. At her reps, I mean. Not me. Says she’ll figure it out herself, ‘cause she hates all the options they gave her. But we need to put out a statement in a few days. Otherwise, people are gonna assume it’s true.”
“It is true.”
“Yeah, but still.” More slurping noises. Akihiko’s going to get early heart disease at this point. “Business executives are ruthless. Man, I don’t get that world at all. That’s another point the reps made.”
Shinjiro pinches the bridge of his nose, dragging in a deep breath. People mill around him quickly and quietly, not even taking notice of him. Here he is, in one of the biggest cities in Japan, and nobody knows that his best friend is Akihiko Sanada. That this stupid, giant-ass rumor is threatening to swallow their lives whole. Yeah, it technically exists only in Shinjiro’s periphery, but his life is too enmeshed with Akihiko and Mitsuru’s to ignore it. In truth, it’s always been like that: the world’s attention funnels towards Akihiko and Mitsuru, while Shinjiro manages to blend into anonymity. No chance of a normal life for any of them, though. He’s certain of that.
“When have you ever let anyone push you around,” Shinjiro says flatly. “C’mon, Aki. I did not suffer through years of your oblivious, disgustingly sappy ass for you to break up with Mitsuru ‘cause some jackass in a fancy suit said you didn’t understand business. So what? Does that matter? You love Mitsuru, not her goddamn company. You’ve been in love with her since we were in school. Why would you throw that away?”
Silence on the other end. Then Akihiko says quietly, “I didn’t know you cared that much.”
Shinjiro immediately wants to take back everything he’s ever said. Instead he leans against the wall, closing his eyes. There’s a deeper meaning to it, too. Something Akihiko wouldn’t understand. Minako had slipped easily between his fingers, and that wasn’t his choice. Akihiko has one. And if he chooses the wrong option, Shinjiro is going to beat his ass like there’s no tomorrow.
“Don’t be stupid,” Shinjiro says now. “And keep me updated. I told you that you would get hurt, I told you—”
“Shinji. I’m fine.”
“You’re hiding in your apartment ‘cause you’re scared of the press! You’ve never done that!” Shinjiro’s voice descends into a yell again. This time, people shoot him strange looks. He scowls back.
“So I’m a little stressed. It’s fine.” Akihiko crams more noodles in his mouth. Shinjiro can hear it. “Look, we’re going to figure it out, okay? You know Mitsuru. She always gets what she wants.” A note of fondness hitches on his last few words. Shinjiro rolls his eyes.
“Okay,” he says sharply. “I believe you. But make the wrong choice and I’m going to kick your ass across the ocean.”
“Alright, noted. I’ll be careful.” A pause. “Hey, uh…where are you? I hear cars. Are you still walking home? Did you call me right away?”
“That a problem?”
“Oh, no. You just…don’t do that a lot.” Akihiko’s voice is threaded with a laugh. “Man, you really are worried for us, huh? That’s the one good thing to come out of this. I get to know how much you truly lo—”
Shinjiro hangs up on him midsentence, stashing his phone in his pocket. Tokyo night air is almost too warm, but he can barely feel it. He looks down at his knee, examining the cut. It’s stopped bleeding, at least. But he’ll need to sew up that hole.
People jostle past him, filling up all the streets and heading home. Shinjiro takes a deep breath, and melts into the crowd.
+
Trending Now:
AKIHIKO SANADA
Daily Tokyo News @dailytokyonews
Akihiko Sanada, one of Japan’s most highly profiled boxers, has recently been spotted with heiress Mitsuru Kirijo. Both Sanada and Kirijo’s agents have confirmed to be investigating the matter at hand. View full article [here].
forge a brighter future! @featherargus17
@dailytokyonews isn’t mitsuru kirijo the owner of her company…
guess that pokemon @innocentsins__
@featherargus17 she’s calling up sanada asking if they’re a thing lol
fists of fury!! @wanderingwolves
@dailytokyonews sanada-san nooo…don’t break ur fans’ hearts (╥_╥)
deliver thy justice @thesnowqueen
@dailytokyonews this qualifies as news? who gives a shit
RISETTE COMEBACK @RlSETTES
@dailytokyonews stan risette [truestoryfancam.mp4]
+
The restaurant is surprisingly dead after lunch hour, so Shinjiro has a bit of a reprieve. He’s still not allowed to go on his phone, but he does peek at the television more often than not. It’s playing Featherman R, though, not the news. And last Shinjiro checked, there was no update from Mitsuru or Akihiko, apart from a standard we are currently investigating the matter at hand. The suspense is real. It’s like one of those stupid dramas that Fuuka makes him watch. Although, Shinjiro would be lying if he said he wasn’t invested. Only for Aki’s sake.
“Shinjiro-kun.” Hayami pokes his waist, and Shinjiro startles. “You’re staring really hard at the TV. Have you been keeping up with the Mitsuru Kirijo drama?”
Damn it. Shinjiro grunts noncommittedly, striding back into the kitchen and focusing on the dirty dishes. Hayami pouts.
“Hey! Don’t ignore me. I know you’re the one who threw away our copy of the newspaper.” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Did you not like what you see? Are you jealous of Akihiko Sanada?”
It’s kind of funny how close Shinjiro and Akihiko are, yet nobody at the restaurant knows that they’re friends. Personally, Shinjiro likes to keep it that way. He’s not particularly close with any of his co-workers, anyway. As far as they’re concerned, he just stays quiet and does his job. No friends, no family. Total mystery.
So—“Sure,” he tells Hayami, plunging a plate in the sink, “I absolutely despise him.” Let her believe what she wants.
Ryohei, who has been dutifully sorting pots and pans and supposedly not eavesdropping, suddenly looks up and says, “Hey, didn’t you go to school with Akihiko Sanada?”
The plate slips from Shinjiro’s hands, clattering loudly against the sink. He twists around, narrowing his eyes at Ryohei. Bastard. How’d he figure that out? Did he steal his resume or something? Probably, in all actuality. Shinjiro hates Tokyo. Bunch of nosy brats.
“How d’you know where I went to school?”
Ryohei blinks at him. “Boss told me,” he replies, as if that explains everything. “When you joined, he said the new cook went to…Gekkoukan, yeah? Figured that was you.”
Right. Shinjiro bites back a curse as Hayami squeals, clasping her hands together. “Woooow, Shinjiro-kun! I didn’t know you knew Akihiko Sanada! Does that mean you know Mitsuru Kirijo, too? What were they like?”
Stupid, Shinjiro could say. They’re total idiots. They got themselves caught in a dating scandal, and they made it a lot more complicated than it needed to be. Doesn’t that say a lot?
“I dunno,” he says instead, scrubbing furiously at the plate again. There’s a stain that won’t come out. He pushes the sponge harder against the plate. “Focused, I guess. Driven. I didn’t spend too much time with them.”
This is not exactly a truth, but not exactly a lie, either. Shinjiro has always been good at mediating the in-between; being half-dead helped him perfect that. Hayami, however, tilts her head to the side, as if unsatisfied with that answer.
“So why did you throw that newspaper away? Did you”—she gasps—“did you like Mitsuru Kirijo? Was she your high school crush? Are you mad that Akihiko Sanada stole her heart? Is that why you threw it away? Was Akihiko Sanada your greatest rival?”
“I…” She could not be farther from the truth. Unwittingly, Shinjiro thinks about Minako, the brightness of her eyes, the kindness in her smile. It was very hard not to fall in love with Minako Arisato, and it always confused him as to how Akihiko had never managed to do so. He was glad for it, though. Minako had always been his, even until the end. Even beyond it, now. When she died, she took his heart with her.
But none of his co-workers know of Minako’s existence, which is fine. Let them believe what they want. Shinjiro shrugs and says, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“Shinjiro-kun!” He really hates the way Hayami says his name. “No wonder you threw it away! Are you still in love with her?”
She’s talking about Mitsuru, but Shinjiro’s thoughts flee towards someone else. His heart tightens. Are you still in love with her? Akihiko had flung that question to him every now and again, as if the answer would change. Of course it wouldn’t.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says roughly. And it doesn’t, anyway. Minako is dead. He is alive. End of story.
“Maybe you should move on,” Hayami says sweetly, inching closer. Shinjiro immediately takes a step back. “You know…”
At that moment, Ryohei conveniently drops a ton of pots and pans, causing Hayami to leap backwards. Shinjiro glances at the clock and breathes a sigh of relief.
“Break,” he says, fumbling with his apron. “I’ll be back.”
He slams the kitchen door without another word, ignoring Hayami’s squeals and Ryohei’s complaints. His usual spot is empty, so he sits down on a crate and takes his phone out.
CONTACT NAME: Aki ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
Shinji: fix your love life before my coworker asks me out
Aki: how does my love life relate to yours?
Shinji: when you have trouble i do too for some reason
Shinji: is it a bro instinct?
Aki: did you just type bro instinct
Aki: unironically
Shinji: just hurry up and fix it dumbass
Aki: yea i’m trying
Aki: maybe your bro instinct will sense when its fixed
Shinjiro wrestles with the idea of blocking Akihiko’s number. He settles for switching off his phone.
+
This time, Shinjiro makes sure he’s at his apartment before he calls Akihiko. Who knows what he’d end up with otherwise: a phone number slipped in his back pocket, a twist to his ankle, a shooting star crashing into one of Tokyo’s biggest buildings. Okay, that last one wouldn’t be bad, but still. Point is, Shinjiro wants to be prepared for whatever Akihiko is going to throw at him today. Also, he wants to see his face, so figuring out how to video-call him is an adventure in itself.
“You could’ve called me normally,” Akihiko says, when he picks up. His face fills the screen, so Shinjiro can see his nose scrunch up in confusion. Either he’s surprised that Shinjiro chose this method to contact him, or Shinjiro’s face is too close to the camera. Probably both.
“I need to make sure you’re not stuffing yourself with junk again,” Shinjiro replies. Akihiko makes an indignant noise.
“What? That was one night, jeez. Here, look.” He adjusts his camera, allowing Shinjiro to see the inside of a cool, sleek bedroom. It is definitely not Akihiko’s. His room is not nearly as neat. And the interior does not resemble Akihiko’s style at all.
“Don’t tell me you’re at Mitsuru’s.”
Awkward pause. Then Akihiko says, as brightly as he can, “She says hi.”
“Come on, Aki.” Shinjiro resists the urge to slam his head into a wall. That would probably hurt, and he’s fairly certain Minako would’ve yelled at him for it. “Have you learned nothing? If anyone catches you in her bedroom—”
“This is her guest room.”
“Doesn’t matter!” Shinjiro’s pulse is accelerating. Maybe Akihiko will just give him a heart attack and end it all. Asshat. He would. “If you stay at her house, you know what the press will say.”
“They’re not going to catch me,” Akihiko says, rolling his eyes. “They don’t even know I’m here. I’m being careful. I’ll probably head back home around three tonight, chill.”
“Three a.m.? Aki, what the hell—”
“Look, are you gonna yell at me, or are you gonna ask what you called me for?”
Shinjiro clamps his mouth shut, even though a thousand different responses race through his head. He can only pick so many battles. On the other end, Akihiko looks at him triumphantly. Shinjiro wishes there was a way to punch someone through a screen. He has to settle for flipping him off instead.
“What happened today?” he asks, as calmly as he can. Akihiko rubs his eyes.
“Same as yesterday. Mitsuru says she doesn’t want to deny it, but some of her reps won’t back down. We’re trying to figure out a compromise. A halfway point.”
Shinjiro hates business executives. He really does. “I still don’t get it. She’s the boss. Who gives a shit on who a businesswoman is shacking up with?”
“I told you,” Akihiko says, with some strained patience, “it’s mostly concerning other companies. A few are already threatening to rescind their partnerships. Mitsuru doesn’t care, but she’s still trying to find a way to compromise with them.”
“All ‘cause she’d rather date a boxer than a CEO? Man, Aki. You must really have something those business sharks don’t.”
“Mitsuru says it’s a heart,” Akihiko supplies. In spite of himself, Shinjiro’s mouth tugs upwards in a smile. He coughs to cover it up.
“Yeah, she’s right about that one. You got too big of a heart.”
Akihiko smiles wearily at him, the edges worn thin. He looks tired, Shinjiro suddenly realizes. Exhausted to the bone. Like he’s been in a tough fight and barely dragged himself out alive. Maybe he has, in a way. Shinjiro tries to imagine sitting in a conference room with the girl he loves, hearing everyone say that he’s not good enough for her, that he’ll never be enough for her. In a way, he did go through that, although Minako had broken down all those barriers. Minako had told him that it was okay. But Minako also wasn’t a rich heiress, so they didn’t have to suffer through that problem, and all the others that came with it.
A different voice suddenly floats across the screen, causing Akihiko’s phone to tremble with the weight of it. “Hey, who are you talking to?”
Even if Shinjiro couldn’t figure out it was Mitsuru, Akihiko’s reaction would’ve told him anyway. His eyes practically light up, and he immediately angles his camera towards her. The quality is kind of shaky, though. Shinjiro can only catch a blurred glimpse of her, clad in a loose white shirt and black pants, dark hair spilling over her shoulders in a wave. Still, she does look pretty. Mitsuru’s beauty has always been enough to knock someone off their feet. Not Shinjiro’s, though. She’s not his type.
“It’s just Shinji,” Akihiko says, his voice slightly faraway. “Shinji, say hi.”
“Yo,” Shinjiro says flatly.
Silence on Akihiko’s end. Then the camera adjusts again, the screen blurring into several different colors. When it clears up, both Mitsuru and Akihiko are on-screen, although half of Akihiko’s face is cut off by the camera. Mitsuru’s face, however, is carved into a delicate frown. Shinjiro didn’t need a camera to see that. He has that look memorized.
“You never pick up when I call, Aragaki,” Mitsuru says haughtily. Shinjiro scoffs.
“Damn, I’m still Aragaki to you? I’ve known you nearly as long as Aki has.”
Mitsuru only rolls her eyes to that, her hand curling protectively on Akihiko’s shoulder. “Maybe if you picked up your phone…”
“And what? Get a lecture from you?”
“Okay,” Akihiko interrupts, narrowing his eyes at Shinjiro. It’s kind of funny through the phone. “Let’s go back to what we were talking about before.”
Shinjiro scowls. “You mean where I was rightfully berating you for staying overnight at Mitsuru’s ‘cause the press could catch you?”
“He’s not staying overnight,” Mitsuru immediately counters. “He’s leaving at three in the morning.”
It must really be a testament to how much Mitsuru loves Akihiko, because she has never sounded more stupid in her life. Shinjiro glares at her, trying to communicate that through the screen. She only glares back. Well, then. They’re both idiots.
“Whatever,” he surrenders, slumping his shoulders. “If you wanna make this worse, go right ahead. I ain’t stopping you.”
To his annoyance, Akihiko and Mitsuru exchange an amused glance, almost as if they were expecting him to say that. They’re not allowed to laugh at him, Shinjiro thinks grumpily, not over this. They’re the ones getting screwed over by the media.
“Relax, Aragaki,” Mitsuru says, her lips curving in a small smile. “It’s going to be okay.”
Somehow hearing it through Mitsuru is more assuring than hearing it from Akihiko. But then again, Mitsuru turns into a total moron around Akihiko, so it’s not like Shinjiro feels a whole lot better.
“How do you figure?”
“Because I’ve been in this game for awhile,” Mitsuru says solemnly. “I know how it works.”
Shinjiro hesitates. In hindsight, that is true. Mitsuru has grown up her whole life walking the halls of the Kirijo Group, learning the mythology of her company, of the business world. Even when he had met her, he could tell she was much wiser than him; her eyes seemed so much older, her shoulders burdened with an invisible weight. Akihiko bore some of it, as the years went on; he was strong enough for it. Maybe that’s why Mitsuru trusted him. You couldn’t look at Aki without seeing a pillar, someone to lean on. Strong and dependable. His hands could hold so much. Shinjiro lets everything slip through his fingers too easily. But Mitsuru and Akihiko—they’ve always known how to navigate a situation together. The realization slowly settles in his lungs, easing away most of his anxiety.
Most. Because Shinjiro will always be a little anxious over them. Also, this situation is really stupid. And it’s getting out of hand.
“Maybe,” he concedes anyway, running his fingers through his hair. It’s getting too long. Minako might’ve liked it, he thinks stupidly, but she’s not here. “Fix it, though, okay?”
Akihiko’s eyes widen. “Wow, Shinji,” he teases, leaning closer to the screen. “Did you just admit Mitsuru was right? Hang on, I need to record this. See, babe, I told you Shinji would come around—”
“I still think you’re handling this horribly,” Shinjiro snaps. “And you need to be careful. When you figure out a solution, don’t waste any time. Just use it.”
“Trust me, Aragaki,” Mitsuru says, squeezing Akihiko’s shoulder. “The solution will be absolutely perfect. I suspect you shall be content with it.”
Why do you talk like you’re signing a contract, Shinjiro thinks. Instead, he nods and says, “Good.”
Akihiko clears his throat, adjusting the phone slightly. “So,” he says, his tone wobbling with the effort to hold back a laugh, “did your co-worker really try to ask you out?”
Shit. Shinjiro does not have time to deal with this right now.
“Bye, Aki,” he says, searching for the end button. Where the hell is it? “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“C’mon, Shinji! You can’t just leave me hanging! At least tell me—”
Shinjiro jams his finger against the end button, effectively killing the call. His screen goes blank, and then everything goes quiet. He drags in a deep breath.
If he’s really feeling worried, he could search up Akihiko’s name online again, just to see all those articles. But for the lack of wanting to give himself a heart attack—and also because he’s exhausted, thanks to this stupid scandal—Shinjiro sets his phone aside, slumps down on his bed, and goes right to sleep.
+
Mitsuru Kirijo, CEO of The Kirijo Group, Announces Press Meeting
Ichiko Ohya
Mitsuru Kirijo has announced a press meeting tomorrow at 3:00 PM.
Kirijo states the meeting will cover a new branch within her company, the Kirijo Group, as well as an implementation of a new trading system. But we all know what it’s really about…
Ever since incriminating photos of Kirijo and famous boxer Akihiko Sanada have dropped, both parties have been suspiciously quiet. Though their respective agencies claim to be looking into the reports, no official confirmation has been given. It is extremely likely Kirijo will have to address these rumors at her meeting.
Will Kirijo finally reveal what’s really going on with her and Sanada? Are they truly just friends, or does it run deeper? Is Kirijo stringing him along, intending to break his heart, or is Sanada intending to break her wallet? Only one way to find out!
Watch the livestream here.
628 COMMENTS
akihiko-san!!! your fans will always stand by you!!!!!!
my only question is how a guy like that pulled mitsuru freakin kirijo
you guys realize this is probably a coverup for whatever capitalistic shit kirijo is building right…
where’s the article on RISETTE’S COMEBACK???
(load more comments)
+
“A press meeting,” Shinjiro says, trying not to sound like he wants to punch something. “A fucking press meeting?”
“You have any other ideas?” Akihiko’s tone is oddly defensive. Also, a little breathless. Either he’s working out, in the middle of working out, or he saw the slew of articles online theorizing his relationship with Mitsuru. Their names have been trending all day, apparently. Shinjiro wouldn’t know, since he’s spending his break dragging answers out of Akihiko’s hands, but the waitresses were gossiping about it again.
“You could just release a statement,” Shinjiro says now, drumming his fingers against his knee. “Instead of, you know, inviting a ton of reporters to openly interrogate your life?”
“Look, it was Mitsuru’s idea, okay?” Akihiko takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself. Yeah, he’s probably working out. Idiot. “She got into one of her…thinking moods. You know. And shooed everyone out of the room so she could contemplate it. This is what she came up with.”
Shinjiro cannot believe that Mitsuru Kirijo, who was student council president, who runs her company with a steel fist, who is smarter than all of S.E.E.S. combined, came up with an idea that is on par with inviting an angry bear over for dinner. It makes no sense. Maybe she is dumber than he thought.
“She’s being stupid, I’m telling you—”
“Don’t call her stupid,” Akihiko says angrily. The sharpness of his tone makes Shinjiro wince.
“Do you even know what she’s gonna say? Has she shared that much with you? Do you know what press is gonna ask?”
Silence sinks across the line. Shinjiro groans, dragging a hand down his face.
“For the love of—shit, Aki, come on.”
“She knows what she’s doing,” Akihiko says, a little more forceful than necessary. “And she has told me, for the record. We’re just…going to see how it goes tomorrow. She worked out a plan.”
“It better be a good one,” Shinjiro says, although it definitely does not sound like one. At all. Akihiko just laughs.
“If you watch it tomorrow, you’ll see,” he promises. Shinjiro bites his tongue.
“You better—”
“Hey, Shinjiro! Break’s over!”
Ryohei pokes his head out the door, beckoning him back to the kitchen. Shinjiro curses, glancing at his busted pocket watch. The clock’s face is still marred by the bullet from all those years ago, but it doesn’t matter. He can still tell the time. He can still see his face. And right now, he can see that he’s gone three minutes overtime. Damn it.
“I gotta go,” he says roughly. “Don’t—”
“Do anything stupid,” Akihiko finishes for him. “Yeah, I know. Thanks. Wait, you didn’t tell me about your co-worker—”
Shinjiro hangs up on him, sliding his phone in his pocket. Ryohei raises an eyebrow at him, curiosity twisted on his features. Shit.
“Who was that? Secret lover?”
As usual, Minako springs to mind, her eyes crinkling with warmth. Shinjiro grits his teeth. “No.”
“Huh.” Ryohei follows him back in the kitchen. “You know, I always see you on the phone during your break. Do you actually have friends? I kind of assumed you didn’t.”
“Thanks, Ryohei.”
“Well? Do you?”
Instinctively, Shinjiro glances down at his pocket watch, tilting it this way and that. His next break isn’t for awhile. He pictures Akihiko in a gym, tearing out all of his stress through boxing. He pictures Mitsuru standing in her office, overlooking whatever grand city she’s located in right now. His stomach tightens. Tomorrow will either come as a great relief, or a great burden.
“It’s none of your business,” Shinjiro says, and stalks over to the counter to slice some vegetables.
+
CONTACT NAME: Mitsuru Kirijo
Shinji: i’m headed to work and i already texted aki but uh
Shinji: good luck
Shinji: and don’t do anything stupid
Mitsuru: Did you just text me, Aragaki? Am I dreaming?
Mitsuru: Thank you, by the way. Your support is greatly appreciated.
Mitsuru: Aragaki.
Mitsuru: Aragaki, do not ignore me.
Mitsuru: Shinjiro Aragaki, I know you have read my messages. Quit acting like a child.
Mitsuru: Hello?
DO YOU WANT TO BLOCK THIS CALLER?
[yes] [no]
+
As luck would have it, Shinjiro’s boss has the television flipped onto Mitsuru’s press meeting. Which is just great. Fantastic, actually. Shinjiro was hoping to drown himself in cooking, to let his work wash away all his other worries. But he can’t have that, apparently. Life hates him.
To make matters worse, the restaurant is mostly dead. 3:00 is a strange lull in the restaurant business, so Shinjiro has learned. He keeps praying for someone—anyone—to walk in, but the restaurant remains empty. Nothing else to distract him, then. He twists a dishrag between his fingers, trying to avoid listening to the television. He fails.
“Shinjiro-kun.” Hayami sidles next to him, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You don’t need to hide back here, you know. We have no customers. Do you not want to see Mitsuru Kirijo?”
“Nope,” Shinjiro says flatly.
“Why not? Too much heartache?”
Shinjiro grits his teeth, a memory of Minako’s smile flashing in his head. It’s practically an ingrained response, at this point. All of his lost love leads back to Minako Arisato. Funny how she saved the world, yet she’s more of a ghost than Shinjiro will ever be.
“Just go watch the damn thing,” he says, shooing Hayami out of the kitchen. “Or you’re gonna miss it.”
To his relief, Hayami complies, her black ponytail swishing out of sight. Shinjiro shakes his head, going back to tearing apart the rag in his hands. He feels like he might throw up. Is Akihiko okay? Does Mitsuru know what she’s doing? The kitchen is empty, but Shinjiro doesn’t want to risk taking out his phone. Not today of all days. Besides, he has no new messages; if Akihiko or Mitsuru really needed him, they’d text him. Then he’d drop everything to respond. But—and he doesn’t know if this is a quiet mercy, or a really bad sign—his phone remains silent in his pocket.
Someone must’ve turned up the volume, because Shinjiro can suddenly hear it clearly, even in the kitchen. Against his better judgement, he leans close to the door. The rhythm of Mitsuru’s voice is familiar, humming and threading itself through the walls, but it’s just so—jarring to hear it here. Tokyo is a foreign city; everything about it is strange and unfamiliar. It’s why Shinjiro had picked it, in fact. To hear Mitsuru’s voice through the walls sends a wave of nostalgia through him, something aching and painful. Maybe there is some heartache there, after all. Something like loneliness. Something like silence. All of a sudden, he doesn’t want to be in the empty kitchen anymore.
Nobody is paying attention when he slips quietly into the main room, which is good. Shinjiro can’t tolerate any of their comments, not when Mitsuru is talking on the screen. But he’s gotten good at being a ghost. Before he met Minako, it was a skill he had almost perfected. Now he can just linger quietly, watching Mitsuru’s press conference unfold without saying anything. As per Akihiko’s words, she is talking about her company, nothing more. It’s boring. Really boring. Some of his co-workers are even yawning. Maybe Mitsuru’s plan wasn’t a total bust after all.
At least, until the near end of the meeting, and she says, “I am opening the floor for questions,” and Shinjiro’s heart nearly plummets out of his chest.
What the hell are you doing, Kirijo? A part of him wants to call her number so he can demand an answer from her, or at least scream at her about the stupidity of it all. In fact, his fingers are already diving for his phone before he remembers that Mitsuru is on live television, so of course she wouldn’t pick up. Helplessly, he’s forced to watch Mitsuru call on a reporter in the front row, a woman with short black hair and a twisted smile. She kind of looks like the devil.
“There have been many rumors regarding you and Akihiko Sanada,” the reporter says, leaning forward. “Do you have any comments on that? Would you like to confirm the state of your relationship with him?”
It seems the whole world suddenly falls silent, waiting with bated breath. Mitsuru, for her part, does not answer right away. Just studies the reporter carefully, eyes calm and reflecting nothing. Her mouth slants in a small smile, but it’s not a kind one. It’s more of a mask, really. Shinjiro recognizes it. He’s seen it before, used on Junpei and Yukari and even himself: ask for the truth and you’ll receive it, but the answer will not be pretty. He shivers. If he could tell the reporter anything, it would be to run.
“I’m sure that has been a great topic of debate,” Mitsuru says, and while her tone is friendly, her eyes are not. “So I will say it once.”
Shinjiro digs his fingers into his palms. Don’t do anything stupid, he thinks desperately, trying to convey it through the screen. Of course, Mitsuru can’t see him, but her gaze does sweep around the room. For one moment, her eyes seem to lock with Shinjiro’s, and the corner of her mouth lifts up in a smile. That does not reassure him. At all.
“I am, in fact, with Akihiko Sanada,” Mitsuru says, tossing her head in an almost proud fashion. The action is so reminiscent of their high school days, Shinjiro has to swallow a laugh. “All of it is true. He is very honest and kind, and he knows me better than anyone. In truth, I would choose him over the world. I don’t need anything else beyond him.” She pauses, and her smile stretches into something sharp. “And at the end of it all, what more could I want?”
The press immediately bursts into camera flashes and questions. Shinjiro exhales unsteadily, the anticipation unraveling in his stomach. So it’s out, then. They’re together. Mitsuru isn’t going to let go of Akihiko for anyone, be it potential business partners or her own company. They know it now. More than that, the world knows it. Good. He still thinks his blood pressure is steadily escalating, but that just might be the adrenaline. He wipes his forehead, heaving out a deep sigh. Well. That’s over and done with.
The restaurant, too, immediately dissolves into loud conversations. His co-workers branch off into smaller groups, but Shinjiro keeps his gaze glued to the screen, watching Mitsuru take other questions. She’s so calm, so poised, as if she expected this. As if there wasn’t any other way. To her, maybe there wasn’t. Mitsuru Kirijo always gets what she wants, in some form or another—and she wants Akihiko. Damn the world, damn the consequences. It’s risky, but she’s Mitsuru. Shinjiro’s mouth twists upwards in a small smile.
Not bad, Kirijo, he thinks. Not bad at all.
His phone vibrates in his back pocket. Shit. Shinjiro glances instinctively at the clock, then takes in the restaurant. Nobody seems to be paying attention to him; they’re all caught up in their own conversations. Which is good, Shinjiro supposes, but a strange ache is scraping against his lungs. Like he’s watching it all unfold in a dream, unable to be a part of it himself. He practically races out the back door, trying to get away from the ragged feeling rising in his chest. His phone is already drawn out like a weapon.
“Shinji!” Akihiko’s voice floods across the line, brighter than anything Shinjiro has heard in awhile. There’s a lot of background noise, but Akihiko’s cheerful tone drowns it all out. “I can’t talk very long, but—did you watch it? Did you see that, Shinji?”
“I did,” Shinjiro says, cradling his phone close to his ear. “Congrats.”
“I told you, man, I told you it’d be okay! I mean, it’s going to be hard, but—Mitsuru’s worth it. I’d take on anything for her. And we got each other’s backs, you know?”
Shinjiro glances back at the kitchen, spies two silhouettes shrouded in the yellow light. If he really wants to, he can pretend it’s Akihiko and Mitsuru. Maybe even himself and Minako, from the other side of the light. His heart aches.
“Yeah,” Shinjiro says, turning away, “trust me, I know.”
Akihiko doesn’t respond right away, although Shinjiro will bet anything he has a stupid smile on his face. In the background, people are screaming questions, words floating in and out of the receiver. Love, Shinjiro catches, and his heart lurches painfully. All of this was for love.
“I’m proud of you, Aki,” Shinjiro says, leaning against the wall. “And I’m happy for you. Real happy.”
“Thanks, Shinji.” A wave of noise crashes over the line, and Shinjiro cringes, holding the phone away from his ear. Akihiko’s voice is hard to hear now, a frail thread through the phone. “Shit, I gotta go, but—”
“I’ll call you tonight,” Shinjiro says. “No worries.”
“Alright. Oh, hey, and thanks for caring—”
The line goes dead. Shinjiro swallows, listening to static fill the line. In its absence, coldness sweeps over his chest, filling all the empty places inside of him. Oddly, his thoughts trace back to Minako. Her hands were always warm. What he wouldn’t give to touch her again.
It’s getting too cold. Shinjiro takes a deep breath, and steps back into the light.