Daydreaming

Miya stepped off the tour bus behind Mukashi. 
     She knew she could have asked him to hug her.
     The two of them stood before the same elevator they'd ridden earlier that day. 
     She wanted to ask him; but at the same time, she didn't.
     As they stepped onto the elevator together, she thought more deeply about why she didn't just throw herself at him and order him to show her affection. 
     She knew what the reason was: if she forced him to touch her, if she asked him, if she was the one to initiate everything, then there would be nothing else behind what Mukashi did.
     The elevator rose to the third floor and stopped.
     She didn't want someone to hug her and tell her everything was going to be fine just because she told them to say it. She looked at her own hand as the two of them walked through the hallways of Zygeist Media's third floor.
     She knew better than anyone how empty people's actions could be.
     She blinked as she realized what she wanted.
     She wanted a miracle; someone like her, but for herself; she wanted someone she could rely on. Someone who would smile and dance and tell her everything was going to be okay. Someone perfect and unflappable.
     Millions of people relied on her. They placed their hopes and dreams on her shoulders; they showered her with love and affection; they very nearly worshipped her.
     But that wasn't what she wanted. 
     The door to her room opened. Mukashi flicked the light switch on, revealing her plush bed, dresser, and small table set. There was a shelf in the corner that didn't have a single book on it. In the corner of the room was the door that led to her private bathroom. 
     "Prepare yourself for bed Miya. You have twenty extra minutes, so it is acceptable if you relax for a few moments longer than normal." He said calmly, gently motioning for her to grab her pajamas out of her dresser and head towards the bathroom.
     She sighed quietly and did as he motioned. 
     Her mind was racing at such speeds while she went through her evening routine that she couldn't pick out a single thought from the whirlwind. 
     By the time she was able to piece things together again, she was standing in front of her mirror with her toothbrush in her hand. She looked deeply into the amber eyes belonging to the woman in the mirror. She quickly finished brushing her teeth, put the toothbrush away, then went back to examining her own face.
     She still had a small, round nose; her lips were naturally thin; her face was tapered beautifully and rested upon a neck that was a worthy pedestal for it. Her skin tone was almost like milk. No matter what angle she looked at her face from, it was still aesthetically pleasing.
     She recognized it. 
     Slowly, she stepped into her blue pajamas and dried her hair. Once it was dry enough, she left her bathroom and looked back into her bedroom.
     Mukashi was still there.
     He was sitting in the chair she'd used that morning, sitting at the table that came with it, and he was looking at her calmly.
     She didn't know what she should do, and so she went back to her training.
     "Mukashi, what are you still doing here?" She asked, trying to sound naive and unperturbed.
     He opened his mouth, then shut it, as if he were thinking about what to say. 
     He stayed quiet for a long time, and Miya began to wonder if he was well. Before she could ask, he spoke up again.
     "For your own safety, I will be in here tonight." He said, taking a deep breath.
     "S-safety?" She said as she strolled towards her bed.
     "Yes." He said coolly, though he looked away from her and towards the other wall as she sat down on the side of her bed. "In the interest of your health, I will be here to make sure nothing negative happens during the night or the morning."
     "Oh." She said quietly. "Well, thank you, Mukashi." She looked at him as he sat in the wooden chair at her small table. "B-but... where are you going to sleep?" 
     Mukashi considered her question. 
     He'd only decided to stay in her bedroom that evening in order to prevent her from repeating that morning's mistake. That's what he told himself and stamped onto every file in his mind; he was only keeping her safe because it was his job. 
     It wasn't because he desired to stay with Miya; his desires were irrelevant, therefore he didn't have any. He was too efficient to cling to something so worthless.
     "I will not sleep." He said calmly. "This will be an opportunity to make sure your scheduled break next Thursday proceeds as planned."
     Miya tilted her head at Mukashi as he sat at the small table and pulled out his cellphone. She watched him set the brightness as low as it could go and turn on the night light setting. Once that was finished, he looked at Miya one final time.
     "I'm going to turn the lights off now. You should sleep." He said calmly. 
     She looked at her manager as he sat in the light of her bedroom.
     "D-don't you want to sleep Mukashi?"
     He gazed at her as she sat under the covers of her bed, her head on a pillow, her amber eyes looking towards him and filled with concern.
     She was concerned about him.
     He couldn't understand why.
     "Sleep well, Miya. You have another concert tomorrow." He said coldly. 
     The lights to her bedroom turned off.
     Miya sat in her bed, in the darkness, and stared at the faint light coming off of Mukashi's cellphone. After a few moments, he put it away and spoke again.
     "I will wait until you fall asleep."
     The words, eventually, faded away into nothingness.
~~~
     Miya was alone in the dark.
     She couldn't tell if her eyes were open or shut. 
     It was quiet. 
     At first, she thought that was good. It was better than the endless noise and hassle she faced during the day. 
     The noise that was so pervasive and all-consuming that it eventually became background static before fading away into... quiet.
      She was awake, wasn't she? She could feel her arms moving, and she could see things. She could see people all around her; her instructor, her fans, Mukashi; all of them were real, weren't they? She could see and hear the people who were in charge of her makeup and wardrobe. 
     The darkness was not dark. 
     It was bright, but not really; it was a fake, meaningless bright that illuminated only what it wanted to. It wasn't real light; it was stage light.
     The days blurred together. 
     She'd gone to sleep on Friday.
     Saturday was another concert, but she had to go to an interview before it, and then after that she attended a fan meetup. Mukashi never talked to her beyond what was strictly necessary for them to function as an idol manager duo.
     Sunday had been the last concert for the three day period. Nothing important had happened during practice, and the signing event afterward had been just as dull. Once the day was over, Mukashi reminded her that her sleep schedule had to return to the very brief period of one am until four am in order to accommodate all the training she had to do in preparation for the Thursday off she was going to receive.
     That was when the days became nearly indistinguishable. 
     Monday had been a mess of fan interactions and music video recordings. She remembered, vaguely, something relating to vocal exercises happening at one point as well. Mukashi had also asked her some questions about publicity, but she didn't remember what she'd said.
     Tuesday involved media promotions relating to some collaboration with a gacha game that Miya had never heard of. She remembered, vaguely, something relating to fan interactions and professional makeup artists. Mukashi had mentioned something about letters, but she didn't remember what he said.
     Wednesday had been a mess involving music video recordings. She remembered, vaguely, something about fan interactions and Mukashi telling her about sleeping in for some reason.
     She didn't wake up at the right time on Thursday morning. 
~~~
     Miya had gone to sleep at one am, and Mukashi had done his best to ensure that she'd keep sleeping as long as she wanted to. He sat in the chair of her room for hours, watching her rest. She slept past four am, and ten am, and one pm. 
     It'd been exhausting work to convince the higher ups not to record her Thursday activities, & it'd been even harder to get the five letters she wanted in physical form, but he'd done both.
     Mukashi watched Miya sleep peacefully. 
     He told himself that he’d only done those things because they'd help Miya's career. 
     Not because he loved her.