Blazing Grief

Miya and Mukashi stood completely still in her bedroom as he stared down at the letter.
     He didn't know what to do.
     He had done his best not to want her; he'd distanced himself; he'd made it clear that he wasn't chasing after her; he'd stayed away. 
     He'd done everything right.
     Then he'd lost her.
     "I see." He said, his voice feeling bubbly and light in his throat. 
     Miya swallowed nervously as Mukashi's mouth moved. Her eyes darted between the letter in his hands and his face several times. His gray eyes were staring directly at the letter. His gray hair was still mostly combed, but she saw that several strands of it were sticking out in various spots.
     Mukashi's stomach felt empty; he felt a tingle in his back. His hands were numb. He read the letter again absently, taking in every stroke of Miya's pen and every word that conveyed that word he'd heard her use in songs over and over again.
     Love.
     "I see."
     Miya breathed slowly as she forced herself to stand up. 
     "M-Mukashi, please, just... c-could we... pretend you didn't see that?"
     The amber cabinet shook as Mukashi remembered Miya eating honeyed yakgwa cookies and asking him politely; he remembered sitting with her during the night to make sure she was safe; he remembered watching her rise to fame; he remembered saving her life; he remembered stopping Fofu from hitting her; he remembered exposing Chi-Hun.
     It hadn't mattered.
     "M-Mukashi?" Miya said quietly.
     Sparks began to light the memories as Mukashi realized that nothing he'd done mattered at all. His grip on the letter tightened. 
     "M-Mukashi! Please be careful with that!"
     As all the memories Mukashi had stored in the amber cabinet began burning; he realized what they represented. 
     Hope.
     He'd been hoping that maybe Miya would stay with him; that maybe, if he stayed close to her, if he did his best, if he stayed far enough away, she would love him.
     Miya said something, but he couldn't hear her over the crackling of the flames as they laid waste to every hope he'd dared to cling to. 
     The amber cabinet turned into molten slag as all the memories held within it got caught in the updrafts. 
     The smell of smoke filled Mukashi's mind as despair began consuming everything.
     Miya said something else, but he couldn't hear her over the sound of someone laughing like a lunatic.
     Miya watched Mukashi laugh.
     It was a stilted, choking sound, and it reminded her of someone coughing because of smoke inhalation. She watched as he doubled over laughing, crushing her letters in his hands. She didn't know what to do; he breathing sped up and she felt her eyes watering. For a moment, she wanted to reach out and try and comfort him, but she was overcome with fear whenever she actually tried to take a step forward.
     Instead, she simply watched as her manager lost his mind. 
     He knew she would do that. He could die in front of her, and she wouldn't care. She had someone else who occupied her mind. 
     The fire kept going for nearly a minute, until the only things left in Mukashi's mind were a few scattered files and memories that had been spared from the flames. 
     Mukashi's laughter stopped as abruptly as it had begun. 
     Miya felt her body tense as her manager closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 
     He turned to face his charge, her letter still in his hands. He took a few steps toward her and looked at her directly in the eyes. She felt miniscule compared to him. She wished that Gene was there with her.
     "So this is the same man who made you cry." 
     "N-no, I just... Seeing him made me a lot more emotional than I thought it would." She said quietly. "Please, believe me, it wasn't his fault that I b-broke character."
     Mukashi nodded.
     "You love him." He stated sharply.
     Miya turned bright red. 
     "N-no, we're just f-friends! W-we send letters to each other, and t-talk about things that b-bother us." She didn't know why she was so afraid to say that she loved Gene.
     Mukashi's eyes weren't calmly observing her as they normally did; instead, he was frowning and his eyes were narrowed. 
     A realization struck Mukashi. He slowly looked down at the letter in his hands.
     Miya watched as Mukashi's gray eyes turned towards her letter. Her heart filled with fear.
     "M-Mukashi, please d-don't tell anyone! I... h-his letters helped a lot with making me f-feel safer. Him and his sister they're m-my... friends. They c-care about me."
     Mukashi smiled as his gray eyes burned.
     "No Miya." He said quietly as he raised the letter in front of her face. "They don't."
     "M-Mukashi?" Her voice started to shake.
     "Nobody cares about you." His volume didn't increase as he took the long letter and began folding it over and over.
     "D-don't say that, it's n-not true!" She shot back, tears beginning to form in her eyes. 
     "Where is your evidence?" He asked as he finished folding her letter into a long rectangle.
     "T-they came to see me!" She said defiantly. 
     Mukashi nodded as he stretched the letter between his hands and pulled it taut.
     Miya's breath left her chest.
     "N-no, please." 
     Fire burned in Mukashi's mind.
     "People can see you every day." He said as his grip on the folded letter tightened. "People can know everything about you." The letter stretched slightly as he pulled on it in both directions. "People can watch you every day." There was a tiny, almost imperceptible sound of paper tearing.
     "Mukashi, no!" Miya shrieked.
     "You can serve them day in and day out." A tear appeared in the top of the folded letter. "You can help them accomplish every single one of their dreams." The tear deepened until it took up half the letter. "You can be their shoulder to cry on." The letter was only being held together by a small piece that still clung to solidity. "You can save their life."
     He tore the letter in half.
     Miya watched as Mukashi tore her letter in half, put the halves together, and tore it again. Then he did it again; and again; and again. 
     Paper shreds fell onto the floor.
     Mukashi looked Miya directly in the eyes.
     "And yet, people will not care about you." He said, his voice almost like a growl. "Because you are not what they want. People want something more passionate, more obedient, more quiet, more perfect!" His volume rose. 
     Miya couldn't speak. Her gaze was transfixed on the shreds that had fallen to the ground.
     "Do you think I'm lying?" He said as he loomed over her. "Because you know I'm not. It happened to Fofu. She wasn't perfect enough; and if you keep talking with Gene, who apparently makes you think you're 'good enough' and 'special' then you're going to fall further and further behind!" His volume was loud. "You are not good enough!"
     Miya felt her soul shake and tremble as Mukashi spoke.
     "You and me." He said disdainfully. "Are worthless. All we can do is be as perfect as possible for as long as possible until eventually we break and are cast aside. That is why I chose this line of work." He said loudly.
     She looked up at her manager to see that he was shaking.
     "Because at least in this godforsaken hellhole of an industry, you know the truth of reality. You're used up until you shrivel away and die; no pretending that anything beyond obedience and beauty matters!" He shouted as she trembled before him.
     Miya stood completely still and lowered her head.
     "Do you understand?" He asked, his voice almost calm.
     Miya didn't nod. 
     "Look at me!" He commanded. 
     She snapped to attention and looked into his burning gray eyes.
     "Do you understand?"
     Miya breathed deeply, her voice shaking. He watched her with narrowed eyes as she didn't respond for several moments.
     "I asked you a question, Miya." He snapped.
     Miya could feel something inside her tremble, as if at any moment, she would crumble and fall apart; yet she also felt something else, more powerful than herself, keep her together. She looked at Mukashi directly.
     "Y-you're wrong, Mukashi." She whispered.
    He looked at Miya's bangs. He could see trails of tears falling out from under them. 
    He breathed deeply. 
    "I'm not." He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Prepare for bed. You'll have an extra hour of practice tomorrow; also, give me your writing supplies."
     Miya reached into her bedside table and handed Mukashi her pen and notepad. 
     "Within two weeks, they will forget you." He said clearly. "Furthermore, a camera will be installed into your bedroom tomorrow. You're prohibited from reading or writing letters for the rest of your career." He walked towards the door.
     They made eye contact.
     "Good night, Miracle Miya."
     He shut her bedroom door unceremoniously.
     She cried herself to sleep that night.