Significant Insignificance

Takumi walks down the stairs, the day just beginning. The half-drawn curtains only let a small amount of light through, the dust lingering in the air catching the light.

He walks to the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water.

The kitchen lights stay off, the quiet sensation of flowing water filling up his glass feeling loud.

He looks up to see Hikaru finishing his breakfast.

Neither of them say anything. Just a silent acknowledgement between them.

Takumi finishes his water, hearing a loud clank from behind him.

He waits for a moment, then looks over to see that Hikaru dropped his knife on the floor absent-mindedly.

He leans down to grab it, placing it back on Hikaru’s plate.

“Thanks.” Hikaru replies, his tone confused and strained.

Takumi hesitates, then steps past Hikaru toward the door.

As Takumi opens the door, Hikaru tries to speak up.

“Wai-”

Takumi stops, Hikaru stammering.

“You’re… different.” Hikaru says, trying to understand.

Takumi looks at Hikaru.

He’s not looking back at him.

He’s looking across, like Hikaru is next to him.

“I decided to take my own steps.” Takumi answers, exiting the home.

Takumi notices the confusion on Hikaru’s face.

You’ll understand someday, and so will I.

Hikaru sits at the table, eating his breakfast while still thinking about it.

Staring blankly at the vase of small, white flowers in front of him.

Haven’t you been walking this whole time?

The steps I always had to follow in, because it got me closer…

Closer to seeing you.

Hikaru picks away at his breakfast, the clanking of his knife against the plate fills the silence.

Just a moment ago, when Takumi finally looked at Hikaru…It didn’t feel like looking back.

It was Takumi looking at Hikaru as an equal.

Hikaru finishes his breakfast, placing his dishes in the sink.

He walks up to his room, and lays back in bed.

Whose steps am I supposed to follow now?

…

Later in the day, Takumi sits before onstage, bathed in the studio lights coating the stage.

“Sora-san, How’ve you been?” the host asks, dressed in a sharp black suit.

They sit in front of a studio audience on a talk show, seats packed to the brim with people.

“I’ve been well, How about you?” Takumi replies, smiling out of courtesy.

“About as good as being a TV host gets!” the host says sarcastically, and the crowd softly shuckles.

“Now, as much as I like to talk, I didn't ask you to come here to catch up like the good old days,” the host jokes.

The crowd laughs again, this time a bit louder.

“I actually wanted to talk about this photo,” the host asks, putting it up on a big screen for everyone to see.

It’s the photo of Yuna and Takumi at her corner store talking.

Takumi looks a bit confused when looking at the photo.

“This is you, right?” the host asks, getting closer to Takumi.

“Yeah…?” he replies, unsure of where this is going.

The host points out Yuna.

“And who’s this girl?,” the host asks. “She sure is pretty, but…who is that?”

The crowd waits for his reply.

“A-” he opens his mouth, but stops himself.

The response was almost automatic.

Takumi remains silent, trying to think of the correct words.

“She is very cute…but, come on. She’s not famous, not as accomplished…,” the host trails off. “...what made you pick her?”

A flicker of irritation rises, then fades.

He straightens himself, taking a deep breath.

“What made me pick her? It’s not as easy as that,” he says.

“I didn’t pick her at all.”

The crowd gasps, thinking a huge scandal is about to unravel.

“You watch performers like me on the screen, but do you even see us?

Can you see the effort and time put into each role?

All you see is what you want to.

Anything that doesn’t fit your ideal, you ignore.

Eventually, the thing you idolized isn’t real.

Just your beliefs, painted over a face you imagine.”

The crowd lingers in disbelief. A few whisper, unsure of what they just heard.

The host blinks, mouth slightly open, searching for a way to move forward.

“You make it seem like I should be with someone the same as me. The same level you put me on.” Takumi continues.

Takumi nervously swallows, but has never been more confident in his words.

“We’re not that different from anyone.

Everyone acts just as much as we do, without even realizing it.

Acting like you care, or acting like you don’t.

All of it’s a performance.”

Takumi looks back at the photo, specifically at Yuna. Silent whispers in the crowd start to form.

“You choose to value these performances…So let me choose what I value.”

The whispers start to grow louder, but it doesn’t affect Takumi.

“I-I think that’s…um.. All the time we have…?” the host replies, trying to end the show.

“Thanks for having me.” Takumi replies calmly, walking off stage.

Whispers fill the studio. The host stays frozen, no idea how to reply.

…

A few days pass, and Hikaru finds himself in the waiting room for an audition.

He meticulously reads over the script, making sure to hit every beat.

After this practice, he lets his mind rest just for a moment.

Then he remembers the interview his brother did.

“You choose to value these performances…So let me choose what I value.”

These words stay in Hikaru’s mind.

“Hikaru Sora-san?” an attendance steps out of a room, ushering him into the audition space.

He begins acting the scene out, but in the middle of the scene sees someone walking by the window.

Takumi, what’re you-

Takumi and Yuna walk past the audition space, Hikaru losing his focus.

He messes up a line, apologizing and taking a breath.

Before starting up again, Hikaru asks himself a question. One he’d never thought of before.

Who am I doing this for?

He does the scene again, but his motivation and focus have already left.

“Thank you for the opportunity.” Hikaru bows, then leaves the room.

He grabs his bag from the waiting room, and leaves the building without a second thought.

He’s choosing what he values…

Hikaru walks by a bakery, empty but with a sign plastered on the front saying “Help Wanted.”

…would it be so bad to do the same?

He lingers at the storefront for a moment, then walks in.

“Good evening! How can I help you?” A lady asks, behind the counter. Completely outfitted in a baker uniform.

Hikaru observes each of the pastries, contemplating on which to get.

“I’ll have…”

Hikaru remains indecisive.

“I recommend the eclair, and this chocolate cake…” she trails off, the two of them talking about which pastries Hikaru’s going to buy.

He smiles, and pays for the sweets.

“Take care, come back soon!” the attendant says, smiling.

Hikaru gives a strained smile, and takes a step toward the exit.

“What made you want to become a baker?” Hikaru asks, stopping himself.

The two of them stand in silence, the aroma of freshly-baked pastries mingle with the air.

“I don’t really know!” the attendant replies, smiling.

“When I was younger, I thought that the sweets I ate were super good. Maybe that was it?” she half-heartedly continues, chuckling at herself.

“You don’t have a reason?” Hikaru asks, genuinely curious.

“Not really. Wait… do I need one?” she asks back, concerned she needed a reason to bake in the first place.

“I…don’t know.” Hikaru replies, unsure of his response.

He exits the store, and they exchange smiles and wave at each other.

The sun sets on the street, shining on Hikaru’s face.

There’s a fork in the road, one taking a scenic backroads route home. The other is continuing straight, toward the light.

Hikaru stands here for a moment, unsure of which way to go.

He only knows the way forward, the shortest and brightest route home.

The other route’s a mystery, something Hikaru never considered an option until today.

This time he had a choice.