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The show’s premise is simple enough: over the course of a decade, two bandmates slowly fall in love with each other.
It is, of course, much more complex than that beneath the surface. It’s the director’s intention to do three things with the show: have one of the main characters fall in love first, and have the other fall in love harder; capture a realistic depiction of the fictional Hanahaki disease; and explore the dynamic aspects of platonic relationships alongside the romantic ones. Although Kenji, born and raised in Japan, and Tyler, a Japanese man raised in America, are the main characters, they’re surrounded by bandmates with a plethora of issues they unpack throughout the show — deep-rooted secrets, depression and anxiety, grief, trauma, and questioning queerness.
And it’s just been renewed for a second season.
Itadori Yuuji, suddenly thrust into fame via his breakout role as Tyler Tatsumi, practically bursts through the front door of Fushiguro Megumi’s apartment — his co-star, his rock, his best friend. Megumi only has a second to be surprised because Yuuji is flinging himself into Megumi’s arms.
“We’re filming another season!” Yuuji says at a volume that’s a little too high, considering his mouth is right next to Megumi’s ear.
But Megumi is as calm as he always is, tapping on Yuuji’s back a few times — his version of a hug as a generally touch-averse person. “I know, Itadori.”
Yuuji zips around Megumi’s living room like an overly-excited puppy. Megumi’s eyes track his movements. He avoids hitting the sharp corners of the coffee table, surprisingly, but almost trips over the box of miniature, animal-themed building blocks next to it. Megumi was putting them together when he got the call that Blue Like the Feeling had been renewed. He dropped everything to call Yuuji.
“Are you as excited as I am?”
In a flat voice, Megumi says, “Yes, I am.”
And Yuuji knows it’s true. Megumi’s not a very outwardly expressive person, but he also never lies about his feelings. Especially not to Yuuji.
“We should celebrate!”
“We should,” Megumi agrees. “I already called the others. They’re coming over for drinks in a couple hours.”
“You’re the best, Fushiguro!”
The hours the two of them will be waiting for everyone else to show up doesn’t stop Megumi from breaking out some celebratory wine in the meantime. Yuuji and Megumi haven’t seen each other in a while — in part because of the vastly different locations of their homes (Kyoto versus L.A.), and in part because they have no real connection to each other outside of the show. They met during a chemistry read, and they grew very close very quickly, but they, unfortunately, live very different lives outside of their roles as lead singer and drummer in a fictional band.
“What have you been up to?” Megumi asks. He knows what Yuuji hasn’t been up to. A few (weekly) Google searches revealed nothing about upcoming roles or current projects, and their frequent text messages skew more toward casual conversation and ‘get to know you’ questions than any tangible life updates. Megumi has no idea what Yuuji’s actually been doing for the past two months.
“Not much,” Yuuji says, which is unlike him. “What about you?”
“Not much,” Megumi parrots, but it’s very much the truth. “You haven’t done anything?”
Yuuji doesn’t respond right away. He’s visibly stalling, sipping his wine and over-analyzing the two boxes of miniature building blocks Megumi offers. They’re like wine moms, Megumi thinks fondly, or his own fathers — sipping their drinks and completing a trivial activity together. But they’re not technically that close; they’re co-stars, and Yuuji is hesitating to answer a simple question about his life.
Yuuji picks the dog with a cowboy hat over the cat with a witch’s hat. And, finally, he cuts into the silence.
“I’ve been taking care of my grandpa. But that’s about it.”
Megumi knows about this; Yuuji’s grandfather is very sick, bound to a hospital that’s about an hour away from home. Megumi kicks himself for not asking about him sooner.
“How is he doing?”
“He’s dead.”
Yuuji purposefully spills the contents of his building block set onto the table, ready to get started — and he’s either ignorant to or ignoring the way Megumi freezes, almost dropping his half-built koala.
“Itadori.”
“Mhm?”
“You didn’t tell me?” Megumi asks — and, more importantly, “Are you okay? When did this happen?”
“A few days ago.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Yuuji shrugs. “I didn’t know if you were busy or not.”
That is completely beside the point, in Megumi’s opinion. He would have dropped everything — and, if he couldn’t, he would do something.
“You knew I was on vacation,” Megumi says.
“Yeah, exactly.” Yuuji shrugs. “You could’ve been relaxing.”
“That’s not more important than death, Itadori,” Megumi says, a little too harshly. He sees it in the way Yuuji flinches, a puppy that Megumi had just raised his hand to.
“I’m sorry,” Megumi says calmly. “That’s not important anymore. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Yuuji says.
“No, you’re not.”
“I will be.” Yuuji sets the completed base of his building block dog aside and gathers the remaining pieces closer to him, soon to be the puppy’s body and hat. “Once the funeral is done, I think it’ll be easier.”
“Do you need help?”
“No,” Yuuji says, a little too quickly to be true.
“Itadori.”
Yuuji can’t maintain his lies for very long, “Okay. I’m a little stressed out because it’s expensive, between the hospital bills and the arrangements and everything. But it’s fine. I have money saved. I just have to be careful.”
Megumi treads carefully with his next words. He also knows this about Yuuji: he refuses to accept money from people, even when they’re trying to pay him back for something.
“I didn’t get to see you for your birthday,” Megumi says. Yuuji looks at him funnily, but he accepts the transition of conversation, “Yeah. I mean, you were in L.A., and I didn’t really do anything anyway. I was with my grandpa.”
“Sure. But I owe you a birthday present,” Megumi says. Yuuji’s face falls, “Fushiguro. No.”
“It’s not money,” Megumi says quickly. “I was just thinking, maybe, I could help you set up one of those crowdfunding things. People are very generous. They’ll be more than willing to help.”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll manage it,” Megumi says. “I know you don’t like accepting help, so let me do it. I want to. And I can even make it anonymous. No one will know he’s your grandpa.”
Yuuji still hesitates. He’s tapping his fingers anxiously, puppy temporarily abandoned, but he’s considering it. It must be very bad if he’s genuinely considering it.
“Okay,” Yuuji says. He turns his attention back to his puppy, and he’s a little shakier as he continues to click pieces together to form its belly. “If you want to, then okay.”
“I want to,” Megumi promises. He gets to work right away, and he doesn’t let Yuuji see his phone screen. He’ll backtrack if he thinks about it too much, Megumi is certain.
“I only spent one month in L.A., when filming wrapped up,” Megumi says, a distraction as he starts building the crowdfunding page. Yuuji doesn’t watch him, attention on his puppy and his wine — and he’s slowly relaxing, engaging in a casual conversation again, “Have you been here?”
“I have. I was a little busy.” Megumi downloads a few old photos of Yuuji’s grandfather off of his Facebook account as he talks through his adventures, “Getou had a few fashion shows, and Gojo had a movie premier. They asked me to go to all of them, since I don’t have anything booked right now. It was fun. I met a couple of the actors I look up to, and they complimented the show. They like you a lot.”
Yuuji laughs, “I bet they like you a lot more.”
“You’d be surprised,” Megumi says. He’s not saying it just to flatter Yuuji; everyone he talked to spoke very highly of him as a new actor who appeared to be a seasoned professional. “They all asked me how we managed to find a gem like you.”
Yuuji smile, his teeth clicking against his wine glass. His voice echoes as he speaks into the dish, “I keep wondering how I even got the role in the first place.”
“We had great chemistry,” Megumi says. It was, ultimately, his decision. The casting crew found Yuuji, but it was their chemistry that led to Yuuji landing the role as Tyler. Megumi didn’t connect with anyone the way he connected with Yuuji — not in that lineup, and, perhaps, not ever in his life.
Megumi posts the crowdfunding page. He won’t donate to it himself because he promised not to, but he didn’t promise not to send it to other people. He copies the link, opens his text thread with his family, and pastes it there with a quick message: Yuuji’s grandpa died. He won’t take money from me. Help, please.
In a few minutes, Yuuji would have more than enough money to pay for his grandfather’s funeral and all of the hospital expenses, Megumi’s sure of it.
In the meantime, Megumi sets his phone aside, and he goes back to building his cat.
“How’s Ozawa?” Yuuji’s long-term girlfriend, his support system. Megumi hasn’t met her (yet?), but he has seen pictures . . . from stalking Yuuji’s social media accounts. He’ll keep that secret for the rest of his life.
“Oh, we broke up.”
Jesus Christ.
Megumi’s gut reaction is to ask, again, And you didn’t tell me?, but, clearly, Yuuji’s been completely overwhelmed with life and tragedy. Megumi may be a part of his life, but he’s a newer edition, barely a year old. He has other priorities.
As calm as he can, Megumi asks, “When was this?”
“Um . . . two weeks ago?”
“Are you okay?”
Yuuji isn’t as hesitant to answer his time around, “It wasn’t a big deal.”
Megumi still suspects he’s playing all of this off too casually, to pretend he’s not hurt. “Haven’t you two been together since high school?”
“Middle school.”
“Itadori.”
“It was an amicable break-up,” Yuuji says. He finishes the puppy’s belly, and he starts putting together its head. “Both of our careers are taking off. Plus, she wants to, um,” Yuuji pauses for a moment, “Explore.”
“Explore?”
“Women.”
“Oh,” Megumi says. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Yuuji shrugs. “It’s not the first time it’s happened.”
“. . . What?”
“We took a break in high school because she wanted to try dating women,” Yuuji explains. “I also dated two other women during that break, but they turned out to be lesbians, too.”
“Are you serious?”
“Actually, one of them is bisexual.”
Mute point. “You dated three gay women?”
Yuuji nods.
“Wow.” Megumi is both perplexed and impressed. “So, is this just a break?”
“No. We’re done, for good,” Yuuji says. “We are still friends. She supported me when my grandpa died.”
Megumi’s fingers twitch, a short movement that makes him drop the building block piece he was about to click into place on the ground. He runs his fingers through the carpet in search of it.
“It’s okay, though. I kind of want to try something new, too,” Yuuji says.
“You — what?”
“I mean, I’ve never been with a guy before. Not for any reason, just . . . I don’t know. But this show is kind of changing my perspective. Like, it’s . . . love can be nice even if it’s not a guy and a girl.”
Megumi finds the piece on the carpet and drops it on the table, decidedly too distracted to finish his koala right now.
“Did you think differently before?”
“No. Not in general. Maybe just for myself, a little bit.” Yuuji huffs. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
Megumi understands — at least, he thinks so.
“You’ve never been with a guy at all?”
“No,” Yuuji confirms. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever kissed, Fushiguro!”
And they’ve kissed a lot — for the show. Kenji and Tyler are very touchy-feely behind closed doors because it’s the only time they’re allowed to be together. They make the most of it, and that most of it is very much shown on screen.
“Sorry,” Megumi says.
“No, it’s okay. I liked it,” Yuuji says. “Actually, that’s what made me think I wouldn’t mind kissing guys. Because I don’t mind kissing you.”
The words sound so close to a confession, but they’re not. Yuuji’s — well, not straight, but he was, a few months ago. Maybe. He’s definitely inexperienced when it comes to love between two men, at least. So it doesn’t mean anything.
It doesn’t mean anything.
“Then I think you’ll do fine with a guy,” Megumi says. He stands up, and he picks up his wine glass. He only has a sip left, and he needs more. “Be right back.”
Ი︵𐑼 ♡
Kugisaki Nobara and Zenin Maki arrive at Megumi’s apartment about 10 minutes after Okkotsu Yuuta does, rounding out their little cast of main characters — all bandmates in the show. Yuuta is sitting in the living room with Yuuji while Megumi answers the door, leads the women into the kitchen, and pours them each a glass of wine. The two of them are collaborating on a building block koala when they all settle into the room.
“This is what you do for fun?” Maki asks, teasing. She and Megumi are very close — industry friends. They’ve been acting for almost the same amount of time, though Maki’s breakthrough in the industry came a lot harder than Megumi’s did, on account of her not having direct ties to it. She holds it over his head — “I’m just as rich and famous as you and my dad isn’t Gojo Satoru.” — and Megumi respects her for it.
“Don’t want to hear it from you,” Megumi says. “You were replacing your floors for fun two days ago.”
“And it was so hot,” Nobara says.
Megumi groans, “Spare me.”
Nobara and Maki are still in their honeymoon phase. They’re about five months into their relationship, having met on set. They also hit it off quite quickly, a little spark originating from their initial chemistry read. Megumi warned them both not to fall in love with their co-star, but they clearly do not value his opinion. Now, he gets to deal with them cuddling up next to each other on his couch.
He’s happy for them. He would never date his co-star — he wouldn’t. He would not. He wouldn’t. It’s a personal rule he set for himself years ago. But it was probably nice.
“Where’s Inumaki?” Nobara asks. The question is directed at Yuuta, who is also deeply in love with his on-screen counterpart. The only difference is the two of them have been a couple since high school, before they were ever actors on the big screen.
“Sick,” Yuuta says. “But he’s really excited, and he can’t wait to see you guys again.”
“No wonder he didn’t answer my call earlier!” Nobara says. “I was trying to show him my new project. I put together these cute little paper flowers to hang in the project room. None of you answered.” She points accusingly across the room.
“I’m sorry, I was busy,” Yuuji says. Megumi’s excuse isn’t as graceful, “I just don’t care.”
“Asshole,” Nobara mutters. “Anyway, guys, enough catching up—!” They’d barely done so. “We’re fucking going to Italy!”
The second season of Blue Like the Feeling is set in Italy. The entire season takes place over the course of one week, and it’s a very significant part of the story. It’s a little more comedy-driven, with the couples settling into themselves and each other, but there will be a lot of deep conversations and figuring each other out — because, as of the season one finale, none of them have any idea they’re all (1) LGBT, in one way or another, and (2) dating each other. There’s actually a very strict band rule set in place that they don’t date each other.
“I’m so excited. Toge is, too,” Yuuta says. He’s the only person in the room without wine, but he’s double-fisting a couple of the building block sets to make up for it. “Have any of you been?”
“Yeah,” Maki says, at the same time Megumi, in the middle of another wine sip, raises his hand.
“Do you speak Italian?”
“I do,” Megumi says. Maki shakes her head.
“You speak Italian, Fushiguro?” Yuuji asks.
“Sì,” Megumi says. “I speak five languages.”
“Show off,” Nobara grumbles, while Yuuji perks up even further, “What?! I didn’t know that! What else do you speak?”
“English, Spanish, and French,” Megumi says. “Learning Korean. And German.”
“Whoa. Can you teach me?”
“Sure,” Megumi says, even though he’d not sure, exactly, which language Yuuji is asking about. Probably Italian. Maybe all of them — it would be just like Yuuji to want to learn all of them. “I can teach you some stuff on the plane next month.”
Everyone looks at him, wide-eyed. Megumi smirks. It’s his surprise to reveal, a bit of exclusive news passed to him by the director, Iori Utahime.
“Flying out early is optional,” Megumi clarifies. “But, since we’re all project-free right now, Iori arranged for us to stay in Italy until she finishes the script.”
It won’t take long; most of it is already written, on account of Utahime cutting season one in half based on the show’s initial budget. But, that means the six of them can vacation for a while in Italy — a month or more, if they so choose.
“Oh my God!” Nobara springs to her feet, and she nearly tramples Maki in her excitement. “We get to vacation in Italy!”
Yuuta calls Toge immediately, building blocks abandoned. Megumi looks across the table to Yuuji, who’s just sitting there, stunned. Megumi catches his attention with a little wave of his hand and a quiet question, spoken with no volume, ‘Are you okay?’
Yuuji smiles, small but genuine, and holds up his thumb. “I can’t wait!”
Ი︵𐑼 ♡
Yuuji’s fidgeting is different. It doesn’t mimic the excitement that he normally just can’t contain. He’s performing the same actions — rolling up onto the balls of his feet then back down to his heels, tapping on and gripping whatever his hands touch, wiggling his body seemingly on autopilot — but he’s not smiling, and he’s looking around the airport with wonder, but also like something’s about to jump out and attack him.
“Are you nervous to fly?”
“Yes,” Yuuji answers immediately. He laughs, but it’s stiff and ingenuine. “I’ve never flown before.”
“It’s no big deal,” Megumi promises. “I’ve been on hundreds of flights. It’s the safest way to travel.”
“Yeah, but, um.”
Megumi waits, and, when he receives no explanation, he prompts, “Mhm?”
“I’m really scared of heights.”
Oh. Well, that was going to make the apartment in Italy undesirable.
They would cross that bridge when they got to it.
“I’ll keep the window closed,” Megumi says. “We’ll watch a few movies or something. Or we can review the show. You’ll forget we’re even in the air.”
“Okay.” Yuuji sucks in a breath, and lets it out shakily. “Yeah, you’re right, I’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse.”
“You . . . have?” Megumi asks.
“Yeah. I fell out of a three-story building when I was young,” Yuuji says. “I broke a lot of bones.”
“Itadori.” Megumi can’t believe his ears. Every time they talk in person, Yuuji says something that shocks him to his core. “What?”
“I was five, I think. I don’t remember much. Probably because of how hard I hit my head.”
Megumi shakes his head, exasperated. “You amaze me, Itadori.”
“Thanks?” Yuuji asks, uncertain.
“You’re welcome,” because it was definitely a good thing.
For all his fear in the airport, Yuuji is calm as he boards the plane — perhaps because he’s clinging to Megumi’s arm.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuji says for maybe the 15th time in as many minutes.
“It’s okay,” Megumi says, also for the 15th or so time. “The first time I got on a plane, I held my sister’s hand the whole time.”
“Weren’t you, like, six?”
“Four.”
“Ugh, Fushiguro.” Yuuji drops his head against Megumi’s shoulder. “This is embarrassing.”
“You’re embarrassing,” Megumi says. “Don’t worry about it.”
Yuuji stops clinging to Megumi when they get to their seats. They’re in first class, right next to each other. There’s a divider between them that Megumi pushes down right away.
“This is so cool,” Yuuji says, looking in awe around the plane. “It’s like a little living room or something.”
“It’s comfortable,” Megumi agrees. “You can sleep if you want to. I brought eye masks.”
“I’ll try.” It was a long flight, after all. “I might be too anxious, though.”
“I can’t sleep on planes, either.”
“It’s 16 hours, right?” Yuuji asks. He groans when Megumi confirms, yes, they’re stuck on the plane for nearly a full day. “And I don’t even like coffee.”
“Then you’ll sleep,” Megumi is certain. “Eventually.”
In the meantime, the two of them keep chatting — even when Megumi, “like the old man that he is,” Tsumiki would say, cracks open a Sudoku book.
“Is Sicily close to Venice?”
“No, Itadori,” Megumi says. “Complete opposite ends of the country.”
“Oh.”
“Were you hoping it was close?”
“I’ve just heard so much about Venice. I thought it might be nice to go.”
“We can always take a flight there,” Megumi suggests. It’s a quick flight, less than two hours, if he’s remembering correctly. “If you want to get on another plane.”
“Yeah,” Yuuji says, hesitant. “Would Iori pay for that?”
Megumi shrugs. “Probably not. But it doesn’t matter, I’ll pay.”
Yuuji huffs. “I don’t know. Do you think it’ll be expensive?”
Megum shrugs again. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll pay for everything.”
“What? No way.”
“If you really want to go, we can go,” Megumi says. “I still owe you a birthday present.”
“You got me a birthday present. The crowdfunding, remember?”
“I do,” Megumi says. He hasn’t asked about that yet, not wanting to agitate Yuuji’s interesting balance of fear and wonder through their entire journey onto the plane. Now that they’re settled, though, he sets his Sudoku book down, and he asks, “Did it help? Did it cover everything?”
“You know it did,” Yuuji says, grinning. “I got triple the amount of money.”
Megumi feigned ignorance, “Good.”
Yuuji narrows his eyes and studies him closely. “Are you sure you didn’t donate?”
“I did not donate,” Megumi promises. “I just know some people who were willing to.”
He expects Yuuji to bicker at him, but he doesn’t. He leans back, and he tilts his head against his cushioned seat. “Thank you, Fushiguro. I really appreciate it. You helped me a lot.”
“Anytime,” Megumi says, and he means it. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah. I spent a lot of time with my brother. His wife was around, too. And Yuko. She helped with logistics and — everything.” Yuuji smiles. “I have a lot of great people in my life.”
“Good.” Megumi picks up his Sudoku book again. “You deserve it.”
“You’ve become a good friend, Fushiguro,” Yuuji says. “Thank you.”
I haven’t done half of what I want to do for you. But Megumi holds his tongue, as he often does with Yuuji.
“You, too, Itadori.”
Ი︵𐑼 ♡
It’s time to cross the bridge.
It’s about 8:00 a.m., and they’re standing outside of the airport, waiting for their car; it’s stuck in traffic somewhere. Neither Megumi nor Yuuji are upset about that, though; they need the time to stand, stretch, and enjoy the fresh air. The only problem is the rising sun shining directly in their eyes. Megumi has sunglasses. Yuuji is opting to stand with his back to the sun, taking in the sight of the airport instead of the landscape.
“The place we’re staying is really nice,” Megumi says, and, with guilt, he admits, “But it is a rooftop apartment.”
Megumi chose the place personally. Originally, the main cast was going to stay in this huge house that would soon be filled up with crew members, too. But, Megumi stuck his nose right into the house arrangement business, and he suggested a rooftop apartment.
“I’ll pay out of pocket for myself and my castmates,” he told Utahime. “I think it will be beneficial for all of us to have our own space for vacation. We need to rekindle the chemistry that the fans love so much.”
Which is definitely part of the truth. No one asked him to explain why he chose a separate apartment for him and Yuuji, while Nobara, Maki, Yuuta, and Toge would all stay in the same place. And if he didn’t have to explain himself, he wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” Megumi says. “I thought a separate place would help us rekindle our chemistry for the show, but I should have checked with you first. I wouldn’t have chosen a high-rise if I knew you were scared of heights.”
“No, it’s okay!” Yuuji sounds excited, and he looks the part, too. “As long as I don’t go near the windows, I think I’ll be okay.”
“The master bedroom only had one window, above the bed,” Megumi recalls. “You wouldn’t even be able to fit through it. That can be your room.”
“That’s so thoughtful. But, if it’s the big bedroom, you should have it, Fushiguro.”
“That’s okay. All the rooms are big.” Megumi waves his hand dismissively. “And I like having a balcony anyway.”
The apartment is a rather small place — not cramped, by any means, but certainly not as spacious as Megumi’s L.A. apartment. It doesn’t need to be. It’s just Megumi and Yuuji — two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. It would be plenty of room for a family of three.
“Whoa,” is Yuuji’s first spoken thought. He abandons his bag by the door and carelessly kicks off his shoes so he can start roaming. Megumi organizes his things against the wall before he follows suit.
He knows what everything looks like already, but it’s nice to see the way Yuuji reacts to the place. He looks at everything with such wonder, as if his soul is living its very first life, discovering every little thing the world has to offer. He responds to it all so beautifully, and with such gratitude.
“This is amazing, Fushiguro,” Yuuji says. They reach the bedroom with the little window above the bed, and he flops down on the mattress. Megumi cringes. He’s not one for outside clothes on the bed — it’s actually a huge pet peeve — but this isn’t his bed, so he keeps the thought to himself.
“Wow. This is really comfortable.” Yuuji stretches, and he sighs happily. “I might have to take a nap today.”
“Take a nap now,” Megumi says. “I’ll order lunch, and I’ll wake you up when it gets here.”
“Oh. That’s nice,” Yuuji says. But, he gets up and follows Megumi out of the room. “I’ll wait with you!”
“You don’t want to nap?”
“I can nap on the couch!”
It’s the only place to sit in the living room, but Megumi and Yuuji figure it out. Megumi sits on the far end of the couch, and Yuuji puts one of the decorative pillows down next to his hip. He has to curl up a bit, knees bent into his stomach, but he promises it’s comfortable. Megumi grips the back of the couch as he searches for food delivery.
“We’ll be eating a lot of carbs, won’t we?” Yuuji asks.
“We will. Lots of pasta,” Megumi says. “I can order you steak, if you want.”
“No, it’s okay. Our bodies don’t have to look a particular way,” Yuuji says. “We’re just musicians.”
“True.” Megumi played an athlete before, which required him to look a very specific way. The workout and diet regime was brutal. Megumi never wants to eat ground beef again.
“You could play an athlete right now,” Megumi says. Yuuji is ripped. “You look like a football player.”
“You look like a baseball player,” Yuuji says. “The really lean ones. That’s the best kind of muscle. You have a great body, Fushiguro.”
Megumi’s grip on the back of the couch grows that much tighter. “Thanks. You should rest for a while.”
“Don’t you need my food order?” Yuuji asks. Megumi shrugs, “I know what you like. Just sleep, I’ll take care of it.”
“What about my card—?”
“Itadori. Rest.”
The food takes an hour to arrive, through which Yuuji sleeps and Megumi plays Sudoku on his phone. His eyes are heavy, but he knows he’ll push through; he’s traveled enough to know he needs to push through.
He also texts his family group chat to let them know he’s safe in Italy.
Tsumiki sends a message back right away: Be safe! Send photos! And tell Itadori I said hi!
Satoru replies a moment later: Have fun with Itadori <3 <3 <3 <3
Suguru is the last, though only a few minutes pass before his message comes through: Take good care of yourself and Itadori. Both of you eat well. Turn your location on. Video call later.
Megumi gives each one of their messages a thumbs up, but he opts for radio silence otherwise.
Ი︵𐑼 ♡
“Our fans think we’re dating.”
It’s too early for this. Megumi looks through the little window in the kitchen, shooting a bewildered look in Yuuji’s direction. Yuuji is already looking at him, though he recoils once he sees the look on Megumi’s face.
“Sorry,” he says. “I was just looking at some comments online.”
Megumi is well-aware of the online rumor mill. Apparently, he and Yuuji have so much on-screen chemistry, there’s no way they aren’t dating. Also, according to the Internet, strangers don’t kiss the way Yuuji and Megumi do.
(Of course they don’t. But Yuuji and Megumi aren’t strangers, and they haven’t been since they met.)
“What did I tell you about social media?”
As soon as the show gained traction, Megumi told Yuuji to start avoiding social media. He’s been in the acting scene long enough to know it’s a huge mistake to read too many comments. The fact that Yuuji had a girlfriend held extra weight back then. He didn’t need to be subject to #itafushi this and #itafushi that. He had a partner to focus on.
Now, well, he just doesn’t need to see that stuff in general. It made Megumi’s head spin. Yuuji doesn’t need anything else for his head to spin over.
“I know,” Yuuji says, and he obediently locks his phone to set it aside. “But people are so nice!”
“They are, sometimes. Other times, not so much.” Megumi turns off the sink. “You never know what you’ll read.” He picks up a rag and dries his wet hands. “You can’t unsee some of it. Take it from me.”
“Is that why you act like that?”
Megumi looks through the kitchen opening again. “Like what?”
“Like — so serious.”
“I’m not that serious.”
Yuuji gives him an incredulous look. “Fushiguro. I’ve only seen you smile like twice.”
“I don’t have a naturally happy face like you do. That doesn’t mean I’m unhappy.”
“Are you, though?”
“Am I what?”
“Unhappy?”
“No.” On the contrary, Megumi’s the happiest he’s been in months.
“Hm. Okay.” Yuuji rolls off the couch, landing awkwardly on his hands and knees but only staying there for a moment. He clambers to his feet, leveraging the coffee table to help him — like a baby deer that’s still learning to use its legs.
“Should we head out?”
They have breakfast plans at a cute little cafe that they’ve both fallen in love with. The waitresses are kind and familiar, and they love that Megumi can speak to them in Italian. Apparently, one of them is also a big fan of the show, but she’s very discreet about it and doesn’t pester them. She still hasn’t even asked for an autograph or a photo. It’s a nice, comfortable place for Yuuji and Megumi to hang out.
Megumi orders the same coffee he’s had for the past three days, and Yuuji orders the strawberry lemonade he’s been putting off trying in favor of the dragonfruit, then grapefruit, then orange lemonade.
Their drinks hit the table, and Yuuji’s picking up right where they left off in the apartment. “What makes you smile, Fushiguro?”
Megumi does think about it for a moment, even though he knows he won’t come up with an answer. Who just has an answer to that?
“I don’t know. What makes you smile?”
Yuuji rolls his eyes up in thought.
“I should ask what doesn’t make you smile,” Megumi thinks out loud.
“I don’t like when people are rude to wait staff,” Yuuji says, which feels like a pointed comment, considering the setting.
“Am I being too cold?”
“Huh? Oh, no!” Yuuji waves his hands frantically. “Not you! Just, in general. I was just thinking of it since we’re here—”
“Itadori, calm down,” Megumi says. “I’m teasing you.”
“Oh.” Yuuji blinks a few times, his smile growing with each quick flutter of his eyelashes. “Fushiguro. You made a joke.”
“I make a lot of jokes. They just go over your head.”
“Or maybe you’re too deadpan,” Yuuji argues. “Jokes are all about delivery!”
“My jokes are perfectly fine,” Megumi bickers back.
“Okay. Tell me another one.”
“Jokes aren’t funny when you make them. The best ones happen organically.”
“Not true. I can tell you a joke right now. I bet I can make you laugh!”
“Bet what?”
“That I can make you laugh.”
“What are you placing on it?” Megumi asks. “It’s a bet, right? So what are you betting?”
“Oh. Um. . .” Yuuji looks around. “If you laugh, I’ll pay for every meal on this trip!”
“That’s backwards, Itadori.”
“No, it’s not. I want to pay, you just don’t let me,” Yuuji says — which, fair. Another reason Megumi likes this place is the little agreement he has with the wait staff, a side conversation in Italian so Yuuji remains unaware. He slips them his card as soon as they walk in, and they never put a check on the table — no chance Yuuji will ever even see it, much less pay it.
“Okay,” Megumi relents. He puts his coffee down and folds his arms against the table. “Make me laugh.”
Yuuji hesitates. “Well now I’m nervous.”
“It’s just me, and it was your idea,” Megumi says, but he leans back, and he even covers his eyes. “Better?”
“Actually, yeah,” Yuuji says, which successfully twitches the corner of Megumi’s mouth — but his wrist is covering the spot, so Yuuji doesn’t catch it.
“Knock knock.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes! Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Boo.”
Seriously? Megumi’s lip twitches again.
“Boo who?”
“Awe, Fushiguro!” Yuuji says dramatically. “Don’t cry! You’re supposed to be laughing!”
Megumi drops his hand to reveal his mouth, curved up into a smile, and he lets his next breath out as a laugh. Yuuji’s eyes widen.
“Wait, did that really get you?” Yuuji asks.
“It did,” Megumi says, still smiling. “Congratulations. Now, you get to pay for my coffee.”
Megumi would just have to get his card back from the waitresses first.
Yuuji narrows his eyes. “You laughed on purpose, didn’t you? Just so I don’t feel bad?”
“I think it’s funny that you chose a knock knock joke to genuinely try to make me laugh.” Megumi picks up his coffee. “The joke isn’t funny, but you are. Point proven.”
Yuuji rolls his eyes, but he sits back in his seat, triumphant, and Megumi smiles into his coffee.
Ი︵𐑼 ♡
“So.” Maki leans against the wall next to the hors d’oeuvres. “Knock knock jokes?”
“Get away from me.”
The past few days were the last of Yuuji and Megumi’s solo time. They’ve gone out every night, tried different restaurants, swam in the hotel pool, walked the streets, and read their scripts together. It’s nice. It’s domestic, if Megumi thinks about it for long enough. He tries not to.
“How was your flight?” Megumi asks. Maki looks him up and down — never hides it when she judges him — but permits the conversation shift, “Long. But Nobara kept me entertained.”
“Yeah, Itadori kept me entertained on our flight, too.”
“Oh, I’m sure he did.”
Maki is very observant, maybe the most observant person Megumi knows personally. He narrows his eyes at her. She shoves a piece of bruschetta in her mouth.
Megumi is a very avoidant person — an expert, he would say. “Do you like the apartment?”
“I do. How are you and Itadori enjoying your private estate?”
Megumi avoids her eyes. “It’s comfortable.”
“Mhm. How’s the chemistry?”
“Professional.”
“Right.” Maki looks over his shoulder. Megumi doesn’t dare turn around. He already knows she’s searching for Yuuji — for what reason, he’s not sure. Just to check in on the subject of their conversation. To get his attention to call him over. To scout him out so she can stalk him and ask the same set of prodding questions. She’s nosy like that. Nobara is rubbing off on her.
“Anyway, I’m off to make my rounds,” she says. “See you tomorrow night?”
For a cast-only table read — because, yes, this is technically a vacation, but they’re all workaholics dedicated to their craft and to this show. They’re going to spend hours reviewing their scripts and practicing their scenes in duos, trios, and as a group.
Megumi nods. “See you tomorrow night.”
Ი︵𐑼 ♡
“I can’t wait to take your last name.”
“You don’t want to stay ‘just Hoshi’ forever?”
“No. I’d love to have a family name. Just not this time.”
“Because of your father?”
“He was convicted of . . . a lot. Abuse, of every kind. For years before he was caught.”
“Did he ever—”
“No.”
“Hoshi.”
“No.”
“I like it,” Megumi says. “But, Inumaki, try to cut Okkotsu off sooner. There’s a split second where neither one of you are talking. Interrupt him. Okkotsu, you can help by extending the line. Pretend your line is ‘Did he ever try—?’ or ‘Did he ever hurt—?’ so you still have some momentum when he talks over you.”
“Got it.” Yuuta scribbles on his script. Toge does the same. They run through the scene again, and it’s flawless; Hoshi actually interrupts Seiichi, and it sounds as natural as if they were having a real conversation, not a scripted one.
“Loverboys next?” Nobara suggests. The entire room turns to look at Megumi and Yuuji, and Megumi wants to throttle her.
“We’re all loverboys,” Megumi argues. Nobara looks him up and down, offended, “Girl, actually. Hot seat, hot shot.”
There are very few scenes in which Kenji and Tyler aren’t being physically intimate. Megumi and Yuuji choose one of them for their first table read.
It’s a short one, less than 20 lines, starting with Kenji pulling Tyler behind his drumset while they’re at rehearsal.
“Dude, Haruko is so onto us.”
“Don’t call me dude, your tongue’s been in my mouth. And do we have to talk about this right now? You have a microphone in your hand!”
“I turned it off. You think I don’t know how to work a microphone?”
“I think you have very few skills in general. Secrecy is one of them.”
“I’m very good at keeping secrets. I’ve never told anyone about that weird mole on your butt.”
“Why would you tell anyone that?”
“I haven’t!”
“Kenji!” Tyler reaches across the table and grabs a handful of Kenji’s shirt. “Can we talk about this later? Everyone will be back any second, and we don’t have a very good explanation for why we’re crouching behind a drumset right now.”
“Because I lost my keys?”
Tyler lets go of Kenji’s shirt and presses his palm against his forehead. “I’m in love with a fucking moron.”
“Oh, loverboys! Where are you, loverboys?” Nobara calls through her cupped hands, giggling. Megumi glares at her, “Not your line.”
“Not my scene,” she argues back.
“But it was good,” Maki says. “Megumi, you need to be a little dumber, I think. A little more genuine on the mole line. And Itadori, try to be more exasperated on the moron line. It’ll be funnier if you don’t sound so upset about it.”
They run through the scene again, with Maki’s feedback. It’s better, but they’re speaking too loudly, so they run through it again at an appropriate whispering volume, one that microphones are still guaranteed to pick up during the actual recording.
“Perfect.” Maki is satisfied after the third run. “What next?”
Nobara and Maki don’t have any one-on-one scenes in the second season. Their characters got a lot of screentime in season one, but season two focuses a little bit more on Toge’s and Yuuta’s characters — aside from Kenji and Tyler, of course.
Since they do have a lot of scenes that don’t require them to make out, Toge and Yuuta run through most of them, occasionally switching seats with Megumi and Yuuji when they find another scene where they don’t kiss. It’s not that they can’t or won’t practice those scenes, but it’s not necessary in a group setting. (Megumi doesn’t even want to begin to imagine what Nobara and/or Maki would say about him and Yuuji kissing right now, regardless of the fact that they would be Kenji and Tyler.)
The group calls it quits after about three hours, when the sun starts to slide down into the sky and they all remind each other they are, technically, on vacation, and they don’t have to do this all night. They all go their separate ways for dinner — because Megumi wants to stay in, Nobara wants gelato, and Toge wants to go to a fancy, romantic restaurant.
Megumi sits on the couch to look through the delivery apps again. Yuuji remains near the kitchen table, hovering sort of close to Megumi, but far enough away that, for a while, Megumi thinks he’s doing something in there.
“Fushiguro,” he calls. Megumi turns to see Yuuji in the exact same spot, with his hand on his open script. “Should we, um.”
Yuuji stops talking abruptly, as if some higher power reached down and turned off his voice box. His mouth is still open like he’s genuinely trying to make a sound.
Megumi frowns, slightly concerned. “What?”
Yuuji’s mouth snaps shut for a second. “Nevermind.”
“Tell me.”
“Practice?” Yuuji asks. Megumi is so confused, “We just did. For three hours.”
“I mean . . . the intimate stuff. Like, kissing,” Yuuji says. His voice raises an octave at the end of his sentence. Megumi’s eyebrows stitch even further together, and Yuuji retracts. “Sorry. That’s stupid. We should wait for the intimacy coordinator—”
“It’s not stupid,” Megumi says. (It is. It’s so stupid. This is not a good idea.)
“But, do you want to practice those scenes right now?” He asks anyway. “We can take a break.”
“I think it would be . . . good. Just, really quick, before dinner.” Yuuji bites down on his bottom lip, and Megumi folds like a piece of origami paper.
“Okay.” Megumi picks up his script again, and he flips through to find an intimate scene. He has the entire thing memorized, so he knows exactly where to go. “How about the one where we’re on the balcony?”
“Sure,” Yuuji says. He also grabs his script, and he walks over to the balcony connected to the kitchen.
“Itadori!” Megumi calls. Yuuji stops, right where he’s about to open the curtain.
“We don’t have to do it out there,” Megumi says. He’s been very cautious about the balconies, keeping the curtains drawn over them when Yuuji’s in their vicinity. “Let’s just do it here.”
“I should get used to it, right?” Yuuji asks. He pushes open the curtain, and he braces his hand against the door. He hesitates. “It’ll be immersive. And maybe I won’t have to stall when it comes time to shoot.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive!” Yuuji slides open the glass door to prove it. Megumi makes a beeline for him so he doesn’t have to step out onto the balcony by himself.
“Okay,” Megumi says. He glances over the script even though he doesn’t need to. He wants to stall for a second. He wants to look at Yuuji from his peripheral and make sure he’s okay.
He is, for the most part. He glances out into the skyline, then focuses his attention on Megumi. He flips his script open, and the pages shake — not in the wind, but with the small tremors in his hands.
“Are you okay?”
“All good,” Yuuji says too quickly. He grips his script with both of his hands, then reaches out suddenly to grab Megumi’s arm.
“Maybe.” Yuuji tugs, and Megumi follows. Yuuji maneuvers Megumi’s arm until his hand is on his hip, and Yuuji nods. “Maybe you can hold onto me? Just to make sure I don’t fall.”
Yuuji’s next laugh is nervous, shaky.
“Okay,” Megumi agrees. He steps closer, hooks his arm around Yuuji’s back. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” Yuuji’s still stiff, but he’s not trembling anymore. “Okay.”
The proximity shouldn’t make Megumi nervous. His tongue has been in Yuuji’s mouth before. But it’s a little different when they’re acting. Megumi is a professional. Yuuji is a professional. It’s not Megumi and Yuuji kissing, it’s Kenji and Tyler.
But Megumi feels so strangely like himself when he reads Kenji’s words aloud, “It’s fucking gorgeous out here.”
“Language,” Yuuji — Tyler says gently. “You can barely see anything.”
“You can barely see anything. I have 20/20 vision, amore mio.”
“Amore mio?”
“My love.”
“. . . You love me?”
“Why are you saying it like that?”
“I don’t know. I guess it just feels different.”
“Because we’re in Italy?”
“Because I know that you mean it.”
“Dumbass. I’ve always meant it.”
“Yeah, but . . .”
“But what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know anything?”
“I know that I love you.”
Yuuji lowers his script. Megumi does the same.
“Ti amo,” he whispers — and that’s their queue. Kenji and Tyler kiss, but Megumi feels a hell of a lot like himself as he tightens his grip and slides his fingers into that pink hair, and Tyler feels an awful lot like Yuuji as he holds onto both sides of Megumi’s face and pushes his tongue into Megumi’s mouth.
His professionalism is gone, thrown carelessly over the edge of the balcony as he clings to Yuuji, as he kisses him for far longer than the script calls for.
Yuuji goes with it — because Tyler loves Kenji, and the two of them would kiss for hours if they weren’t trapped within the confines of a TV show that needed all of its content to fit into 45-minute episodes.
When he finally gets his wits about him, Megumi pulls away. He’s breathless with the kiss, and he’s still holding onto Yuuji like they’re bandmates who have been in love their whole lives, who are just finally starting to accept that they can be in love and face the world’s adversities together.
“Good job,” Yuuji mutters distantly. He’s still scared; he must be. He’s breathing heavily, clinging to Megumi just as hard as Megumi is clinging to him.
“Yeah. Good job,” Megumi echoes, also distant—because he’s unprofessional, and he’s done what he said he would never do. He’s fallen in love with his castmate.
Ი︵𐑼 ♡
Unfortunately, that night shifts things.
Yuuji is a little . . . standoffish. He’s not mean, but he’s more absent-minded when he and Megumi interact. He doesn’t ask Megumi to taste-test the fresh lemonade he makes that morning, and he requests they stay inside instead of going to their usual cafe. He doesn’t speak much, and he doesn’t lay down on the couch. He sits at the opposite end, and he scrolls on his phone, and he doesn’t tell Megumi about whatever it is he’s seeing on social media—because Megumi knows he’s looking at social media again.
Megumi’s at least 99% sure that Yuuji felt the shift. He knows that Yuuji knows that Kenji wasn’t kissing Tyler last night. That was Megumi kissing Yuuji.
He tries to fix things. He wants to fix things. Sitting in a silent apartment that absolutely feels too cramped now isn’t good for either one of them. He has to do something that will make them both shake it off, forget about the night altogether.
The weather forecast says there’s an 84% chance it will rain around 2:00 p.m., so Megumi plans a short, hour-long walk through a shopping center with plenty of side streets, hoping that getting some sunshine will bring Yuuji’s back out.
They don’t talk much, but it’s a little easier to breathe outside of the walls of the apartment. The air is heavy with the oncoming rain, but it’s much better than the stuffy apartment, where Megumi kissed Yuuji and tried to pretend like he didn’t.
At 1:15, the sky suddenly opens up above them.
“Shit,” Megumi mutters. They’re a good 20 minutes away from the apartment, but they can probably find somewhere to hang out in the meantime.
Megumi holds his hand out for Yuuji to take, though he doesn’t wait to start walking. He also doesn’t expect Yuuji to actually take his hand; it’s just a gesture for Yuuji to chase after him in search of shelter from the pouring rain.
“Wait,” Yuuji latches onto Megumi’s jacket, right where his pocket is protecting his phone, instead of his outstretched hand. “Can I talk to you?”
Megumi is bewildered. “Right now?”
“I won’t say it otherwise,” Yuuji says. Megumi sighs, worried about the possibility that one or both of them will get sick from the sudden and brutal weather shift, but he relents, “Okay. Yeah. What’s wrong?”
Megumi is 100% certain this is about last night. Yuuji is frozen, still latched onto Megumi’s jacket, because he’s not good with confrontation. Megumi doesn’t want to rush him through such a delicate process, but, “Itadori. It is pouring rain.”
“Mhm.” Yuuji’s mouth wobbles, and, with horror, Megumi realizes that the rain is a blanket, covering up what Yuuji’s going through. He’s crying.
“Holy shit,” Megumi whispers. He fucked everything up so much worse than he thought he did. “What’s going on?”
“I’m really nervous.”
“Okay.” Megumi doesn’t know what to do. He slides his hands over his eyes, since that seems to help Yuuji in the moments he struggles to speak. “Better?”
Not this time. “I should really look at you when I say this.”
Megumi drops his arms, and he waits. He’s patient because the rain won’t kill him, but whatever’s going on in Yuuji’s mind is hurting him a lot. Megumi hurt him so much.
“You know how I said that maybe,” Yuuji takes a breath, stuttered. “Maybe I’d like to date guys? One day? Because it just — it seems possible?”
“I do,” Megumi says. He also remembers telling Yuuji that it is possible. Queerness isn’t fictitious. It’s true, genuine love between people, just as normal as any other form of love.
Oh, no, Megumi thinks. Did I make Yuuji homophobic?
“Well, I think I know who I want. And he’s — he’s a man.”
“Okay.” Megumi keeps his voice steady. It’s difficult — because this is so unexpected. Who the hell is this mystery man? Yuuji’s turmoil is quickly turning into Megumi’s turmoil, and the rain feels like a tsunami, drowning him on the spot.
“It’s not just an experiment,” Yuuji says, suddenly in a rush. He’s tugging on Megumi’s jacket, anxious, and Megumi takes a half-step forward because Yuuji’s pulling him that way. “I really like him. I thought I was just confused, but I’m not. I really, really like him.”
“That’s . . . good?” Megumi guesses. “Why are you telling me? Do you need help?”
Say no, please. I can’t do this.
“Yes?”
Fuck.
“Okay,” Megumi agrees, and it’s not just a tsunami anymore; it’s a rope tied around his throat. He’s going to suffocate expeditiously. “What can I do?”
“You can tell me if you like me. Please?”
Megumi’s mind tilts off balance. “What?”
“You’re him,” Yuuji says. “The guy. The one I want.”
Megumi’s thoughts are a jumble of wires, and they spark and sputter out of control, singeing the rope, as the tsunami crashes down on him.
“Me,” Megumi repeats. “I’m the guy.”
Yuuji nods. “You’re the one.”
Again, Megumi’s breath disappears, stolen by the water and the way Yuuji looks at him.
“Itadori.” Megumi manages to breathe a bit. It gets caught in his throat. “This isn’t a joke, right?”
Yuuji frowns. “No. My jokes are very well thought out.”
“Well, this is pretty well thought out.” Megumi points at the sky. “Dramatics and everything.”
“Do you think I’m pranking you?”
“I feel like I’m dreaming.”
Yuuji bites his bottom lip. “In a good way or a bad way?”
And, once again, Megumi folds like origami paper.
It’s the dumbest thing Megumi’s ever done in public. Who knows if there are fans peeking around the corner or sticking their cameras out of the apartment windows? But Megumi doesn’t really give a shit about that. He backs Yuuji into the brick wall, stumbling like he’s love drunk. He protects Yuuji from his own desperation, splaying a hand across the back of his head and one against the wall next to his hip — no injuries in the name of sharing a kiss on the wet streets of Italy.
Yuuji makes a delighted little noise, throwing his arms around Megumi as their lips meet. They kiss, for the first time, without a remnant of Kenji or Tyler — and they’re a much better duo anyway. Their kiss tastes like rain, and their tongues slide together like the building blocks they used to celebrate the renewal of their chemistry.
Yuuji breaks their kiss, naturally, with a smile.
“Wow,” Yuuji whispers. “Our on-screen chemistry is going to be so good next season.”
Megumi laughs — honestly and openly and right against Yuuji’s lips. And Yuuji swallows it down like sugar, keeping Megumi’s joy safe in chest—pressed right up against his overflowing heart.
Ი︵𐑼 ♡
The Entertainment Sphere The Show That Birthed 3 Real-Life Partnerships
Behind the Scenes of Hanahaki Hit Series ‘Blue Like the Feeling’
The Entertainment Sphere: Thanks so much for joining me today, guys! Let’s start with something simple. What do you love about the show?
Okkotsu Yuta: I love that it lets me be me. Obviously, I’m much different from my character, Okubo Seiichi. He’s tougher around the edges, and he’s emotionally stinted, but the way he loves his partner is very similar to how I love mine. He feels a sense of responsibility for how his partner feels, and it was really easy to tap into that while recording the romantic parts of the show.
Fushiguro Megumi: I like that it explores queerness in a way I don’t think we’ve ever seen before. The Hanahaki aspect is an interesting one. It’s metaphorical, in the sense of a love that can slowly kill you if you leave it festering for too long. It also goes to show that you can love someone behind closed doors, but it’s so much different than being able to love them out in the open. That’s why Kenji’s disease didn’t go away once he and Tyler were able to confess their love for each other. He still felt like they lived in such a closed-off world that he couldn’t heal properly. The societal impacts were still palpable.
Zenin Maki: I love that it shines a light on different sexualities and a variety of dynamics between queer couples. Big, buff, gay men aren’t always looking for the tiniest guy they can find. Two women aren’t always going to look like a princess and her guard dog. It’s a refreshing take on queer couples as just two people, not a stereotype.
The Entertainment Sphere: What was your favorite part of filming? Do you have a funny on-set story?
Kugisaki Nobara: There was one point, when Fushiguro was acting out one of his Hanahaki scenes, he swallowed one of the petals.
Fushiguro: Yes. That was disgusting. We were using real flower petals that had been cleaned and were safe to put in my mouth, at least, but I can’t imagine swallowing one was good for me.
The Entertainment Sphere: Are you okay?
Fushiguro: I’m choosing to believe I am.
The Entertainment Sphere: Any other funny stories?
Itadori Yuuji: There’s a scene with Okkotsu and Inumaki that we had to re-shoot days later. They were using each other’s real names, and no one noticed until the playback.
Kugisaki: It sounded so natural! Goes to show they’re a great couple in real life, too.
The Entertainment Sphere: Speaking of which, I have to ask because the fans are so curious. How did all of you end up in relationships with each other? How much did the show have to do with that?
Inumaki: For us, the show had nothing to do with it. Yuuta and I have been together since we were in high school. But it did make it really easy for us to act together. Like Yuuta said, our love is the same, or very similar. Our characters are a little different than us, but the way they care for each other just reminds me of home.
Kugisaki: We did get together because of the show. I think it would have been the same case with any show, Maki and I just hit it off naturally. But I am very grateful to Blue Like the Feeling regardless. Sapphic relationships don’t get nearly as much spotlight as they should, and the fact that our characters were able to genuinely and effectively develop their relationship despite being side characters is a beautiful thing.
Fushiguro: We also got together because of the show. It started with the chemistry read. Itadori and I connected very quickly, and filming the show pushed us into a relationship. At some point, it felt a little less like Kenji and Tyler were kissing, and a little more like Fushiguro and Itadori were kissing. I think that’s when we knew we’d lost a little bit of our professionalism and needed to do something about it.
The Entertainment Sphere: Well, congratulations on the success of the show and three beautiful partnerships. Thank you so much for joining me and having such a candid discussion. To our listeners, thank you for tuning in, and please stick around for more coverage about your favorite piece of media!