Chapter 8:

The Cost of Being Seen

Iris of Insignificance

Takumi’s fast asleep, his room in disarray. The floor is littered with worn clothes, a small fortune in laundry sitting on the hardwood.

The posters that once encased the room now feel farther away, some swaying with the fan’s periodic blowing.

The desk next to his bed looks untouched, since the time he and Yuna studied there, and it was. Then again, it’s almost been a week since she was there.

The moonlight peering into the room coats the clothes in a blue haze, Takumi’s bed lingering outside of the vibrant light.

His eyes tighten and wince, like he doesn’t wanna see what he’s seeing.

In his head, he sits in a dressing room, alone.

He types away on his phone, messaging and replying to any love and ignoring any hate on social media.

A director cracks the door open saying, “We’re ready for you, Sora-san”

Finally, do they know how long I’ve been waiting…

He goes to stand up, but finds his arms and legs chained to the chair. Pulling and thrashing in his chair and attempting to get out of the restraints, Takumi makes no progress.

Where the hell did these come from! Get off me! I’m supposed to be out there!

He struggles some more, moving the chair to the point where it slams into the desk in front of him.

He looks up for a moment, but something’s off…

He tilts his head in confusion, examining the reflection.

Wha-

His reflection sits in perfect stillness, plastered with the same hollow smile he gave to his fans countless times before.

“Who are you?” he asks his reflection

“Who are you?” the reflection repeats back. Picture perfect tone, like it was completely rehearsed and memorized.

Takumi’s face grows restless, staring at the door to the stage and jerking his body around in a final attempt to get out of the restraints.

“You’re making no progress” The reflection states calmly.

The reflection stands from the chair, and walks through the mirror.

He stops in front of Takumi, and pushes his chair to the ground. The reflection looks down at Takumi, amused at the struggling.

“What? Giving up already? I thought the great “Takumi Sora” had more in him!” The reflection laughs.

The reflection stares Takumi in the eyes, and farther past that… Into his soul. Like he can read Takumi’s mind.

The reflection crouches down and extends his hand, and Takumi spits at him.

“Like I need your help. What do you want?” Takumi barks back, angered by the display of pity towards him.

“I want what you want” The reflection vaguely replies, Takumi visibly confused.

The reflection walks toward the door, leaving Takumi on the ground.

“I want to see Takumi Sora everywhere. Even if that means leaving you behind” the reflection coldly states, exiting the room.

Takumi is still visibly confused, but continues to thrash about on the ground.

He accidentally knocks into his desk, and the mirror comes crashing at him.

What does he mean? I am Takumi Sora. Takumi Sora is me.

His internal world collapses with a final thought.

Is that what I want?

He jolts awake in the morning, and as he does the alarm begins to ring the second he rises.

His chest tightens abruptly, but soothes itself almost immediately.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure where he was.

He looks around the room in confusion, thinking about the dream he just had.

He looks at the posters, the ones that brought him so much pride before…now giving but a whisper of envy. That person, standing in the focal point of all them…

…Takumi felt like he didn’t recognize that person anymore.

After just a moment of looking, he gets out of bed and silences the alarm.

Takumi leaves the room without a second thought.

He takes a long, cold shower, thinking about the dream.

“I want to see Takumi Sora everywhere. Even if that means leaving you behind”

He lets the chilling water run down his body, coating almost every inch of skin.

He stares at his hands, letting the water flow through them, and cups them to gather it together.

Takumi stares at a warped reflection of himself in the water.

Somehow, he feels like after that dream…he understands less about himself.

“Taku-chan! Breakfast is ready! Hurry up!” His mom screams out from the kitchen, bringing him back to reality.

He loosens his hands, letting the water slip between his fingers and disappear down the drain with the rest of it.

He finishes his shower, gets changed into his school uniform, and heads into the kitchen.

He sits at the table, eating eggs and toast, his mom and Hikaru sitting across from him.

“Your father’s going to be home in a few days, isn’t that exciting?” Takumi’s mom asks, Takumi still poking away at his food.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since he went overseas. Hopefully he’s got a nice tan!” Hikaru replies, him and their mom laughing.

Dad’s going to be home soon? Means the filming went off without a hitch.

Takumi continues eating in silence, Hikaru breaking it by asking, “Aren’t you excited for dad to come back Takumi?”

Takumi keeps his expression muted, looks down at his plate and responds with, “Yeah, that movie was pretty big. He must be burnt out”

What does that feel like?

The rest of breakfast is finished with minimal small talk, and Takumi grabs his bag.

“Have a good day!” His mom excitedly yells at him, Takumi giving her a faint smile.

He heads back through the entryway, pausing in front of the mirror before leaving.

He styles his hair a bit, like normal, then practices a humble smile.

How long have I been doing this? How long have I been trying to match the reflection?

His fake smile fades into a blank expression, and he leaves his home for school.

He heads silently to his desk shortly after he arrives, setting his things down and opening up his phone.

I wonder how the ratings are doing…

Takumi makes an excuse for himself to check social media.

Rather than searching the name of the movie, he searches his own name and checks relevant posts.

“Takumi and Waguri work super well together in Stellar! I’m like, totally jealous!”
“Takumi Sora and Fuuka Waguri really proved their prowess…:”

“Takumi and Fuuka have good chemistry…”
“Takumi and Fuuka..”

With every new post, his name alone appears less and less.

The praise remained, just praise meant for another.

Not him.

This…this isn’t the way it should be. None of it is.

Takumi scrolls further, and sees a posted picture from a trusted news source.

That’s…

The picture is of Takumi and Yuna, when Takumi previously entered the corner store. The headline reads,”New Partner? Takumi Sora and Mystery Girl Romance!”

He glances at Yuna’s desk, but she’s not there. Her bags rest on the side of the desk, and her notebooks out in preparation for class.

That’s strange. She’s here before I am, every day.

The first period starts.

Then ends.

She hasn’t come back.

Second period starts.

Second period ends.

Her desk remains the same. Vacant.

The bell for lunch rings, and the class gradually empties until Takumi and a few of his classmates remain.

He looks at her desk, and his mind begins to race.

Why?

Why do I want to know where she is?

Why would I want to know anything about her?

Why would I want to look at someone who refuses to look at me?

Takumi stands to exit the room, but lunch period is already over. He spent the whole time thinking about one thing.

Yuna Yamaguchi.

Third period starts, and about halfway through, Yuna slides the door open.

People look for a moment, but go back to learning after they satisfy their curiosity.

Where has she been this whole time?

She heads to her desk, the sloshing of wet footsteps catching Takumi’s attention.

She sits down, and Takumi sees that her shoes, and skirt are completely soaked.

How long was she out there?

He notices her eyes look a bit red and puffy, like she’d just been done crying about something.

…

Takumi’s mind goes blank. For some reason, he can’t think of anything.

No pity. No acknowledgement. No resentment or Hatred.

Nothing.

He spends the rest of the day infatuated with her situation; what could’ve possibly happened?

At the end of the day, Yuna gets up from her chair, and exits like nothing happened.

Takumi doesn’t notice her leave, but when he comes back from daydreaming he realizes he’s the last left in the classroom, again.

He looks around in confusion, unsure of how much time has passed.

Where’d she go? I need to know.

Takumi speeds out of the class, and then out of the school.

I think it was this way?... no…that…

Takumi tries to remember the way to her house, but the only time he’d ever gone there was completely accidental.

10 minutes pass, and Takumi is just about ready to give up. He heads toward a park, and sits on a bench.

How could she be avoiding me? At a time like this?

Even in times of confusion, there’s one thing he can rely on… and that’s selfishness.

He gives up, trying to look for her.

He lays on the bench, and looks up to the afternoon sky.

On any other day, he might’ve acknowledged it, maybe observed it for the serene beauty.

He doesn’t feel any of it.

He closes his eyes, met with the memory of his dream, and the reflection of himself.

“I want to see Takumi Sora everywhere. Even if that means leaving you behind”

He clenches his fist tight, taking in a deep breath.

He tries to think about it again, and again, and again.

…But can't come up with anything.

He sits back up, intending to head home-

But stops.

And there she was.

Sitting under a tree, alone. Knees tucked under her still-soaked skirt, hair stagnating in the spring air.

She looks at the sunset, at least in the direction of it.

By her feet is a mostly-eaten corner store sandwich, but she doesn’t acknowledge it at all. It might as well have not existed in the first place.

For a while, Takumi just…stands there.

He almost instinctively turns to leave, but forces himself to approach.

Each step echoes in his mind, louder than it should.

When Yuna finally notices him, he’s about 3 feet from her.

Her head lifts, and her eyes widen. She’s surprised…not just to see anyone approaching her, but to see him doing it.

Takumi goes to speak, opening his mouth.

…but the words don’t come out. Again.

He chooses to sit, not being able to speak to her directly.

Dammit, why can’t I speak? What’s stopping me from doing that like I’ve done so many times before?

They face separate directions, the both of them visible out of the corner of the other’s eye.

“....why are you here?” Yuna asks, her voice dry and tired. Like there was no voice left to speak with.

Takumi nervously swallows.

Why am I here?

I could tell you that I wanted to see you.

I could tell you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

I could tell you that I don’t even know.

What came out was far more simple, and roundabout.

“...you were gone for most of the day"

Yuna exhales, not a sigh, not really anything specifically.

“So what?’

“So wh-” Takumi, frustrated at that answer, “your stuff was there, and you weren’t. It’s like you vanished.”

“I was at school. Not in class, not where you wanted me to be”

Her dull tone strikes Takumi like a blunt sword. Nothing vexing or sharp about her words, or her tone.

Takumi frowns, and looks toward his feet.

“The article…the one about me and you…you know”

“I saw it. And the picture” Takumi softly speaks.

“So did everyone else” Yuna murmurs

Takumi softens up a bit, surprising himself,”...did someone say something?”

Takumi’s brain isn’t sure what to feel; relief, that the girl who refused to look might have finally opened her eyes…or guilt.

Yuna remains silent.

The silence spoke the words needed.

Takumi clenches his fist, tightening his tone, “Why?”

“Who cares about why? It happened…regardless of reasoning it already happened.” she replies, staring into the bleak afternoon sky.

Takumi is aggravated about the truth in her words.

Like she’s okay with it.

Like she’s used to being treated this way.

“...you could’ve leaned on me. Or at least told me” Takumi warmly speaks.

Her eyes slowly drift toward him, and she looks him dead in the eyes.

“And what difference would you have made?”

Takumi’s mouth opens again.

The words refuse to come out again.

Each syllable feels like an insurmountable weight he can’t push.

Even if the words came out, it wouldn’t make sense.

Because he didn’t know how.

His silence was enough to reply.

Yuna gives a faint, sad smile. Like this was the answer she was expecting.

“You know…”

“...You keep bragging about this light you have. About how people like you, and only that can make differences, and make change…”

She looks back at the sunset, the smile fading.

“...kind of ironic that you can’t change anything here. That here, you’re just as hopeless as the rest of us.”

Takumi’s chest tightens, being compared to the kind of person he used to revolt stabs him.

He turns to look at her fully, for the first time.

She’s not angry.

She’s not disappointed.

She’s just tired.

“I never asked for this” she continues, “I never asked for this attention, the messages, the rumors. Like you said…I’m not like you. I can’t handle them”

Takumi’s eye twitches. Not of anger, but of relation.

He remains silent.

“...when I saw you on TV, something finally clicked for me. The person I was seeing didn’t feel real, it felt like a person pretending. Not just the character, but the actor themself.”

Takumi thinks back to his dream about the reflection again.

Isn’t acting about pretending? Pretending to be someone or something you’re not? Shouldn’t this be a compliment?

It didn’t feel like a complement. It was questioning his identity as a person.

“Seeing that person, and seeing you…neither felt like a real person. Just a reflection of what people see you as”

The wind rustles the leaves over their heads, but Takumi remains still.

His heart rate quickens.

He doesn’t defend himself, doesn’t deflect. Doesn’t correct her, or change the subject.

Because, for the first time, he listens to her words.

And it worries him. Because she might be right.

Takumi lets out a slow breath.

“I can’t remember who Takumi Sora is sometimes…”

Takumi looks onto the sunset with Yuna, finishing his sentence.

“...or if he even exists anymore.”