Atami

The address in Atami was as Sakuya had described. Just down the street from the ryokan they had stayed for that one beautiful night, there was a smaller hostel nestled just so into the edge of the beach. Sakuya walked towards it, observing the balconies, when he spotted her: Kana, sitting on one of them, watching the ocean. His heart felt like it was going to burst. Sakuya’s steps grew faster and faster, running towards the front of the building, up the stairs to the door. Out of breath, he knocked against the sun-bleached wood. Once. Twice

And then, the door opened. There she was, after days of searching.

“Kana!” Sakuya cried and embraced her immediately.

“Sakuya?”

“It’s you. I found you. I was so worried, I—Kana?”

Kana pushed him away, her eyes hard. “Don’t come closer.”

“Kana?”

“Everything has been wrong since I met you. I had found peace, however small it was, but since you… since you inserted yourself into my life, everything has broken down. I can’t even go back to the cafe. They… they would’ve chased me. Tore me apart if they found me.”

“Just let me explain.”

“Explain what? Stay out of my life before he ruins it even more. No matter your good intentions, he will find the gaps and strike. He’s always been like this, only I’ve been too in love to see it before. And I was that stupid again… too in love to see the danger looming. Leave me be, go back to your band.”

“I’m not going back without you.”

Kana crossed her arms. “Then you’ll have to stay in front of this door forever.”

She turned to leave, but Sakuya caught her arm before she could disappear again.

“Let go of me!” she hissed.

“No.”

“Why are you here?” Kana cried. “Why do you still… still try?”

Sakuya tried to enter the room, but Kana blocked him, pushing him out again.

“Because I know you’re a victim in this. In all of it. And I want to stand by you,” Sakuya said.

Kana instinctively took a step back. “No, no you can’t. What about the band?”

Sakuya reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a piece of folded paper from it. He held it out for her to pick it up.

“I can’t be in a band with Ito Haruki any longer.”

With shaking hands, Kana took the paper and unfolded it carefully. She scanned the text. Blinked confusedly. Read it again.

“That’s…”

“Proof that Haruki’s votes were partially bought. He was popular in the show, but not enough to get third place. With his original number of votes, he wouldn’t have made the cut at all. During the last few days I did my own research, keeping it secret until I had proof. I’m going public with this.”

“And lose your place in ‘Candy Apple’?”

Sakuya gently put a hand on Kana’s face. “If that is what it takes to turn public opinion against him, so we can right the wrong that was done to you, yes. I will. I’d rather go back to working as a cashier than to fake a laugh next to him.”

Kana’s vision blurred as tears overflowed. She fell into Sakuya’s arms, who held her tightly against his chest. Together they sank down to the floor, in a close embrace. Kana sobbed against Sakuya’s shoulder.

“Stop. You’re going to make me cry as well,” Sakuya said, his voice already at the edge of crying.

Kana snorted a wet laugh.

“Where were you three years ago?” she whispered.

Sakuya patted her head.

“Selling magazines at a bookstore.”

Kana smiled.

“I really like you. I tried not to, but I can’t help myself,” she said.

“What can I say, that’s the effect I have on women.”

“Idiot.”

“I like you too. From the first day,” Sakuya said.

Kana lifted her head from his shoulder to face him. Sakuya’s eyes darted to her lips and she smiled at him, tears and all. When their lips met, a strange sort of emotion settled over Kana. Everything was still broken, but at least she wasn’t broken all alone.

And then, all of a sudden, Sakuya flew through the air.

Kana whipped her head around to see Haruki, his head red with anger, his fist still clutched. Kana instinctively took two steps back.

“Are you out of your mind?” Sakuya yelled. “What the fuck are you doing here??”

“Saving our careers,” Haruki said and turned towards Kana.