yukida fumito

Just in case, Toshi checks for signs of substance abuse. He can’t find any, but it’s hard to tell with these people anyway. While the man who held Fujinomiya’s hand earlier has half his body over the edge of the balcony, Toshi replies, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, and I’ll have to ask you to move off the rail.”

The man glances at Toshi from the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t budge. “Are you telling me to jump?”

“I’m asking you to step back so we can… talk.” Something tells Toshi that treating this guy as a patient might backfire, it’s just… come on. And what’s worse, a cursory glance reveals that the entrance to the balcony has been barricaded by Hino-sized men wearing sunglasses—his private security team, probably. How ironic for them to be the ones preventing their employer from getting help. “Easy now.”

The man is clearly getting a kick out of Toshi’s panicked reaction, too. “Let’s make a deal, Mr. Nurse. If you ask her out, I won’t jump.”

“I can’t—we can’t make life-altering deals while you’re in danger. Step off the rail, and then…” Toshi trails off because the man is laughing. This is incredible.

“Ah, that’s cute. You’re off the clock. Calm down.”

“It’s not about being off the clock or not. You’re acquainted with Koharu, willingly, so I know that you’re insane. Please move back.”

While he has essentially said the same thing thrice, where standard protocol didn’t, code-switching seems to work; Fujinomiya’s soon-to-be fiancé moves back. He still leans on the rail, just without looming over the concrete thirty stories below. “Where are you from?” The man asks. “I know people say Fukuoka, but I hear a bit of Saga myself. My grandparents were born there.”

“I’m from Fukuoka, yeah.” By ‘people’, he probably means Koharu’s watchers during the Nagumo Sr. scheme. His nerves are shot for several reasons, but to show negative emotion around this kind of patient is seldom productive. Best to play along for now.

“Knew it. Anyway, I lied. They’re from Hokkaido. What do you want if Fujinomiya Koharu herself isn’t enough to make a deal? Money?”

“...what?”

The man rubs his thumb and pointer finger together. “How much?”

“Uh… I don’t… even know what’s going on. Or even your name.”

“Really now?”

Toshi looks away. He knows his statement might be misinterpreted as a lie due to said gesture, but he can’t help it; he’s really starting to feel bad for the guy. He’s not even mad about being unable to mope in peace without someone going off the rails nearby (literally) anymore. “Really now.”

“Right. Sure, dude. I’m Yukida Fumito.” Toshi vaguely remembers seeing the name around. Maybe? His face must’ve given him away, because Yukida asks, “Wait, do you seriously not know who I am?”

“I’m not really into idol stuff. Sorry.”

“I’m not—I’m in like, two thirds of the movies that Koharu appears in, and you’re telling me that you’ve never seen me before? What, am I supposed to believe that you had a fling with her without knowing who she is?”

“We never had a—”

“Stop lying!”

“I’m not.”

Yukida scoffs. Not good. “Just tell me how much you want. All I need you to do is ask her out before I’m forced to propose to her, which I should be doing right now, by the way. Just… think about it. Knowing her, if you ask, she’ll say yes. You’ll go viral, obviously. I’ll find you a good team so you don’t ruin your career before it starts. If you’re smart about it, you’ll get enough brand deals to quit your job as soon as you want. You don’t even need Koharu. Just break up with her once the drama fizzles out.”

Toshi just stares at him.

“What? What else do you want?”

“So all of this is because… you don’t want to propose to her? But…” Toshi trails off. Even he knows that celebrities “date” as a publicity stunt sometimes. Yukida might be under pressure from his agency, but is Fujinomiya the kind of person that would cave to this? She always seemed like an obliviously selfish bioweapon to him. Then again, six months is a long time. She might’ve matured; the stranger on the podium comes to mind. “I’ll pass.”

Based on his non-reaction, Yukida had probably anticipated this. “If you’re worried about the fallout, don’t be. You’ll have antis raiding your page, sure, but you’ll also be that guy that stole a celebrity’s girlfriend. Oh, and people will lose it with the whole Mr. Nurse reveal, and the… sky thing? That’s related to you, right? I’m not recording this, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Admittedly, that did cross Toshi’s mind—the recording part. The rest is nonsense. Now, how can he decline without escalating the situation again? The patient is already… wait, never mind. This guy is one hard ‘no’ away from snapping. “Is it that hard to say no to your boss? Or agency, or whatever it is.”

“Is it that hard to say yes to my deal? Most people would kill for it.”

“Most people, huh…”

“Yes. Most people. What do you even have to lose?”

For a moment, Toshi stares at the city. He lets the breeze fill the silence. Though the balcony faces the wrong side, he can still hear the sea. “Freedom,” Toshi replies.

The backhanded insult Toshi expects never arrives. Yukida’s first reaction to the word is to watch the concrete below again.

So does Toshi, for completely different reasons. He has always been indifferent to heights, but he’s nauseous all of a sudden. Someone like Yukida should not have the expression of a sick man waiting to wither away.

“Fine,” Yukida says. He takes his phone out of his pocket, which has been recording them this whole time. With no warning, he drops it, but Toshi is close enough to snatch it in time. Yukida smiles again, as warm as the rest of his expression. “What are you doing? It’s just a phone.”

“It could’ve—it could’ve hit someone!”

“So?”

Toshi holds back the urge to smash it against the floor of the balcony. Without hitting stop on the recorder, he hands it back. He didn’t say anything incriminating, anyway; the Koharu comment could be framed as a way to try to de-escalate a… patient.

Yukida takes it. “Kidding. The entire hotel is rented out. I would know if someone’s about to walk in or out.”

The what.

Now he wiggles his phone in front of the rail, so loosely that a breeze could make it fall again. “I can say no to the agency, but I won’t. The agency can say no to the sponsors, but they won’t. The sponsors can say no to the investors, but they won’t. And so on and so forth. Unlike Koharu, I wasn’t born into this. I got scouted. I chose to be here. I could’ve been, I don’t know, wiping asses for a living like you, but instead I’m being told to propose to someone I hate because it could boost numbers I don’t give a shit about, because every project I get picked for sucks, and every time, every time I ask for something with some substance, all they can say is ‘next time’, and I’ll say yes to all of this because I can. I don’t want to, and I don’t have to, but I will. Isn’t that freedom, too?”

“Sure,” Toshi mumbles.

“Then why is it so hard to…” Yukida trails off. He twirls the phone in the air before catching it between two fingers. “...is it that village?”

“Village?”

“The clinic where she took those vacations. She says that it’ll get ‘swarmed’ if people find out about you. And like… maybe, but nobody will care in a week or two. I don’t see what the issue is. Just lock the doors.”

If Yukida’s cage is gold, Toshi’s is sepia. Koharu chose the former to protect the latter.

“For how long can you keep this up, anyway? A year? Ten? How many pictures will it take for one of you to get bored?”

“I’ve been wondering the same for months,” Toshi replies. “Listen, if… if it was just me getting affected, I’d accept, I guess. I’d just go into hiding for some time. The end. But those places are… different worlds, almost. If it affects me, it affects everyone. If it affects everyone, it affects me. I think Fuji… Koharu feels the same way. For the record, we never had any fling. She was my patient, and I was one of her nurses. That’s it.”

“...so you want me to believe that Koharu has been doing that thing for six months for no reason?”

“No reason,” Toshi echoes. “It’s so stupid, now that I think about it.”

Yukida is, understandably, shocked. “So you didn’t even… nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why the fuck were you crying?”

“Because—I don’t know? I don’t know.” He really doesn’t. The more he thinks about it, the sillier it gets. Toshi can’t help but bring a hand to his face.

The worst part is… he doesn’t even care.

If Koharu kept this up for a month, or six, or a year, he would, too.

“Lucky you,” Yukida says.

Slowly, Toshi shakes his head. “This sucks.”

“It doesn’t.”

He thinks he misheard for a moment, but then he sees Yukida’s eyes smile for the first time.

***

Fumito sends the following message: tell your dad to eat shit :)

Then: I fucked your boyfriend :)

Then: is the speech over?

Koharu is at the snack bar with Mr. Oda and a few other representatives when she sees these messages. She replies, It was over a while ago. Since you left in the middle of the speech, I told everyone that you got explosive diarrhea. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Fumito harassing Munetoshi would explain why they disappeared around the same time. Koharu couldn’t chase after him, of course, even as she saw him tear up and leave the room. Everything within her said to tackle him into a hug the instant their eyes met, yet everything outside said the opposite. Koharu finished the speech on her own, voice trembling, while no one around her noticed or cared.

She thought she had grown used to it, but… does anyone? Can anyone?

Mr. Oda sits so close to her, yet they can’t talk. He knows why, and that’s… fine. That’s fine. They enjoy each other’s company while they’re able to. Soon, however, she has to leave the back of the room; there are sponsors to humor in the VIP area. There are reporters to attend. There’s life to remind her that most chance meetings begin and end the same way.

She got what she wanted, though, didn’t she?

Munetoshi was right there.

Their eyes met, and…

Koharu calls Fumito. She waddles out of the room. Her heels are gigantic because she wanted to loom above Munetoshi once… if… they got to talk.

He never answered her DMs. Of course Munetoshi wouldn’t; it could be all sorts of trouble for both of them. She knew, and he knew. They got to talk through a daily picture of the sky, and that was it. That alone kept her waiting for the next one.

She calls.

She calls.

As soon as Fumito answers—he never does so the first time, out of spite—Koharu asks, “Where is he?”

There’s silence at the other end of the line.

She’s on the balcony facing the sea, alone to avoid being lonely. “Why are you always so cruel? Do you think it’s funny? Did you take him away on purpose? Just—just tell me.”

“Koharu.”

“What!?”

“Calm down.”

This is around the time she realizes that she is not, in fact, talking to Fumito. “...what?”

“It’s me,” Munetoshi replies.

It’s her turn to stay silent.

“I wish I was joking when I say that he kidnapped me, but it’s… fine, I suppose. Where are you?”

“...balcony…”

“Huh? But we’re at the… oh, the other one.”

“...yeah…”

Neither of them speaks.

“Mune—”

“Ko—”

“Don’t interrupt me.”

Munetoshi snorts. When nothing else could, that almost brings the tears out. However: she. Will. Not. Cry. In. Public.

“G-go on.” She swallows. “Say something so I can interrupt you. Go on.”

“Something.”

It’s her turn to laugh, though it comes out snotty and gross, and kind of squeaky.

It takes a moment for him to speak again. “So… I think we could meet tonight.”