Dispassionate

Thursday ended quietly for Mukashi and Miya. 
     Friday was the same as the Wednesday before it, with a hectic schedule that left no room for error. There were music video recordings, fan meet-ups, and media promotions; it was all the same as the week before. Miya gave her practiced idol smile to fans, cameras, and executives. She danced the way they wanted her to. She did what they told her to perfectly. Then the night would come, and she would go to sleep in her room with Mukashi accompanying her at the table.
     Saturday was no different. 
     Sunday wasn't different either.
     Monday was when Mukashi finally realized something was off.
     After a fan meet-up ended at two forty five pm that day, while Miya sat in the tour bus and ate the lunch of tacos that Mukashi had provided for her, he couldn't help studying her expressions from the previous three days and comparing them with the information in his files.
     He retrieved files from all his experience working with Miya, but no matter which file he looked at, they all looked the same. Even the ones from the day before Miya had tried to end her life matched what she was doing and how she was behaving. Her outward behavior never changed. 
     So why didn't things feel the same? 
     "Thank you for the food, Mukashi." Miya said with a smile.
     He glanced at her and nodded sharply, then tried going back to his thoughts.
     Miya watched her manager as he sat in her tour bus, not really looking at her. 
     She briefly considered asking him directly about whether or not she could keep up a correspondence with the Southwell siblings. It had been three days, and she hadn't been able to find out an alternative way of sending messages to or receiving messages from them.
     Her hands shook as she thought about opening her lips to ask. It would only be a simple question. Just a few words.
     She thought for a little longer about it, then shut her mouth quietly. 
     Mukashi was a professional. 
     She knew expecting anything more from him was unfair. It was his job to keep her on schedule, and he'd already been extremely generous by letting her send a letter to them at all. If she asked him for permission to send another one or keep up correspondence, he would probably tell her that, 'she was too busy,' or, 'that would be unfair to your other fans.' She sighed softly as Mukashi looked extremely pensive. 
     She briefly thought about trying to talk to Mukashi about her soul; about confiding in him instead of some siblings she'd never met; about being closer with her manager. Her heart raced as she remembered how he'd cut her hair and gotten her cookies and cleared Thursday for her. 
     But that had all been part of his job. He'd made it clear when he'd said that he wouldn't even touch her unless she asked for it directly; she frowned as she realized that all the times she'd thought he was getting close to her were just him doing what was required of him. It hurt to realize that, but she knew that imposing her feelings onto him was unfair. 
     Unfortunately, that meant the she would have to find some way to send letters to the Southwell siblings without getting Mukashi involved. She bit her lip and started considering her limited options as she directed her gaze out the one-way windows of the tour bus.
     Mukashi glanced at the clock on his phone. It was nearly three pm. The tour bus was almost at the destination where they were going to record Miya's latest music video. He looked back at Miya and saw that she was placidly looking out the windows. There was a faint smile on her lips.
     Mukashi found out what it was that had changed after Thursday.
     He pulled out a file from the cabinet containing information about his parents. As he quickly looked through the contents of that file, he exhaled sharply.
     His parents had often used the word to describe what Mukashi was missing. They also used it as a compliment for Sando, and they were constantly pouring it into everything they did.
     Miya, like his parents, was full of passion.
     He couldn't stop himself from retrieving another file from his past. 
     Him and Nishiyama had been sitting next to each other at lunch. 
     "Sun-kun, I like your passion." She'd called him 'Sun-kun' when they'd first met, and he'd accepted it.
     "My father says I don't have passion." He'd said calmly.
     "Has he ever seen you during a mathematics exam?"
     Mukashi had shaken his head.
     "That explains it." Nishiyama had finished her food and set the box aside on her desk, then turned to look at him directly. "You should show him how good you are at mathematics. Then he'll see how passionate you are."
     He'd stopped for a moment, considering what she'd said. Then he'd smiled.
     "That's a good idea Nishiyama-san."
     His mind returned to the seat on the tour bus. His expression was still calm and collected. He looked at Miya once more, then furrowed his brow.
     Thursday had been a massive success. It seemed that letting her read fan letters had managed to drastically improve her mental health. He entertained the thought of making it a part of Miya's permanent schedule, where she'd have a dedicated amount of time to read and respond to fan letters. 
     The thought died in his mind. She had too many other obligations at the moment, and the fact that she'd taken an entire day off meant that the company wasn't going to approve any drastic changes to her schedule anytime soon; especially not changes that didn't serve to improve her popularity and image as an idol. 
     The tour bus came to a stop. Mukashi stood up and walked towards the exit of the bus and gestured for Miya to do the same. She followed him quietly, a slight grin still on her face. As the two of them walked silently, side-by-side, a strange thought entered Mukashi's mind.
     He enjoyed Miya's passion. 
     He shoved the thought out of his mind, and by the time they arrived at the set of the music video, it was almost like he'd never even thought it.
     The rest of Monday went according to schedule. 
     Tuesday was the same, but Mukashi couldn't help noticing Miya's passion as she greeted some of her younger fans at the meet-up. 
     Wednesday had her saying thank you to the music video producers and cameramen for their attention to detail and their work. 
     She also began thanking him for his work almost every single hour. He would always respond with a nod or a simple and professional 'you're welcome,' but the frequency with which she would say it made him almost uncomfortable. Seeing her acting so upbeat made the strange feelings inside his mind harder and harder to fight off.
     He found his mind lingering near the amber colored filing cabinet more often. 
     Thursday arrived, and it had been an entire week since Miya had sent the letter to her fan. She was still smiling and going through her duties and responsibilities with a passionate smile and a carefree attitude. She'd wave at other employees as they passed in the halls of Zygeist Media with a bright smile. 
     Despite the fact that he hardly ever got to see her eyes because of her bangs, he kept having to kill thoughts that sprang up about them. 
     As the two of them approached Miya's bedroom that Thursday evening, she yawned demurely and softly opened the door to it. Mukashi sat down at the small table and watched her go off to remove her makeup. 
     His cellphone buzzed.
     He glanced down at it quickly. 
     His eyes widened and he felt his tongue become dry. 
     It was a message from his boss.
     He realized that he was reacting emotionally again. He took a moment to refocus himself. He needed to get himself under control; he was letting Miya's passion disassemble his professional demeanor and dedication. He was allowing himself to be distracted. He needed to avoid that; it was his job to manage her as an idol, and any time he wasted hammering down his thoughts or lingering on his unhelpful desires was time he wasn't spending doing his job properly. 
     He didn't need passion. He opened his eyes slowly and let a feeling of cold detachment wash over him. 
     Passion was what Sando and his parents had. What Nishiyama had. What Miya had. 
     Passion was the enemy of skill; all it did was confuse and muddle his priorities. It made it harder for him to prioritize what needed to be done. 
     Passion was unnecessary and unprofessional for Mukashi.
     He set his jaw and opened his cellphone once more, completely calm. His eyes scanned over the message from his superior coldly.
     "You are needed in my office. Come immediately."