Japanese Breakfast

The park stretched out like a living tapestry in Old Tokyo. Tiers of greenery weaved seamlessly into the city’s luminous skyline. And don't forget the cherry blossoms. 

If Japan wanted itself to avoid any stereotypes about its culture, they didn't consider it here.

Above them, holographic koi drifted lazily in the air, their scales rippling with faint pulses of light, casting reflections onto the ponds below. Bioluminescent trees lined the paths, their branches glowing in soft blues and greens, swaying gently as though responding to Lena’s movements.

Lena stopped at the edge of a reflective pool, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat. The faint warmth of the material hummed against her skin, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the restlessness in her chest.

“You don’t see this kind of thing anywhere else."

“You find it strange?”

“It’s beautiful, yea,” she said. “But it’s also trying so hard to be something it’s not. It’s hard to tell where the real thing begins. Great Scorch ruined something good and turned it into a husk of itself.”

“Do you think they see you that way?” 

Her breath caught, her gaze snapping to him. “What?”

“The crowd,” he said simply. “Do you think they look at you and see something artificial? Something pretending to be real?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came.

“I…” She hesitated, glancing back at the pond. “Sometimes, yes. I feel like I’ve spent my whole career trying to convince them I’m not just some placeholder for a better version of myself. It’s exhausting.”

“They don’t see you that way,” Caden said quietly.

“You can’t know that.”

“I can,” he said, the conviction in his voice surprising her. “Because I see you.”

Caden hesitated, the weight of her doubt settling between them. “I think you’ve built something extraordinary. But I also think you’re still afraid it’s not enough.”

Her gaze dropped to the water, the faint ripples distorting her reflection. “It’s coming back here, to Nippon. This is where it all started for me. I mean, as an Idol. My first ever company-commissioned NetOrb, my first contract. First everything. People used to tell me here I’d never measure up to the Net-born Idols. That I was wasting everyone’s time by staying human.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the koi fish gliding past them in slow arcs. Lena glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, studying the way he stood so still, so deliberate.

The park thinned out as night fell, the crowds dispersing until the paths were nearly empty. The blossoms glowed brighter now, casting faint shadows against the smooth stone walkways. Lena and Caden walked in silence for a while, the faint hum of the city overhead blending with the rustle of bioluminescent grass in the breeze.

Caden broke the silence first. “You mentioned earlier… the beginning. Your first performances here. What were they like? The interviews did not give the impression of anything too concerning.”

She let out a breath, turning her gaze forward again. “Terrifying. Nippon audiences don’t fake anything. If they like you, they’ll show it. If they don’t…” She shrugged. “You’ll know. After a while, on the Net. Never said it in front of your face.”

“And they liked you?”

“For a while,” she said. “Until they decided I wasn’t what they wanted.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” she said, her voice tighter now. “That was the problem. I didn’t have anything to give them that they couldn’t find in someone else. Novelties wear off.”

“They stayed."

“For a while."

“They’re still here."

She stopped walking, turning to face him. “Why does that matter to you?”

He tilted his head slightly, considering the question. “Because what matters to you matters to me.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “You can’t just… mirror me like that. I like it when you tell me exactly what I need to hear all the time, but... how do I know if you really mean it? I need something real, Caden.”

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out for the past few months.”

She stared at him, searching his face for something she wasn’t sure she could name. For the first time, he looked almost uncertain, like he was waiting for her to say something that would make this all make sense.

“Do you think you feel something?” she asked finally. 

His silence stretched, heavy and fragile.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “But I think I’d like to find out.”

The park’s quiet was shattered by the buzz of Lena’s palm screen. The message glowed insistently until she swiped it open, the words spilling into her vision: “Lena, we need you at the venue. We can’t afford missteps—not in Big Nippon.”

Her chest tightened, and she shut the message with a flick, her pulse quickening.

“What’s wrong?” Caden asked, his voice calm but curious.

“Nothing,” she said too quickly, brushing past him.

He fell into step beside her. “For what's worth... they feel real to me.”

Lena stopped abruptly, her eyes snapping to his. Watery, almost bloodshot, cold. “We don’t have time for this, Caden. It's not the right time.”

Caden watched her for a long moment, unflinching, his gaze steady but distant. She hated that stillness. It left too much space for her words to echo back at her.

She let out a sharp breath, turning away. “I didn’t mean that,” she muttered.

He said nothing, and the silence felt worse than anything he could have said.

She glanced up at him. His eyes weren’t on the water, or the blossoms, or even the koi drifting lazily through the air. He was looking at her.

“What?” she asked, her voice tighter than she intended.

Caden tilted his head slightly, his gaze unreadable but heavy with something unspoken. “I was wondering why you always hesitate.”

“Huh?”

“When you reach for something,” he said simply. “You stop, just short. Like you’re waiting for permission.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. The silence between them stretched thin, charged with something fragile and unnamed.

For a moment, the world felt impossibly small—just the faint glow of the blossoms, the ripple of the water, and the weight of his gaze.

Lena turned away sharply, her heart pounding. “We should go,” she muttered. 

Caden didn’t move immediately, and she could feel his hesitation like a thread pulling taut between them. Finally, he nodded.

“As you wish."

The walk to the transport station was silent. The bioluminescent grass swayed faintly under the soft hum of the city, but Lena’s thoughts were louder than anything around her.