章節 50: [50] The Morning After
{A/N: Man oh man College is definitely kicking my ass but I hate leaving things unfinished so here is the next chapter}
I stared out the car window, watching streetlights blur past as Miyako detailed our damage control strategy. Her words washed over me in waves - something about getting ahead of the narrative, controlling the story before the tabloids could spin it. The neon signs of late-night Tokyo created shifting patterns across my reflection, making my purple eyes look almost black in the glass.
"We'll release a statement first thing tomorrow," she said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. "Keep it simple. You witnessed harassment, stepped in to help a fellow actor. No need to mention the bridge."
I nodded, not really listening. My clothes were still dripping, creating a wet patch on the leather seat. Marin pressed against my side, either not noticing or not caring that she was getting soaked too.
"The photos will be an issue," Miyako continued. "But we can work with them. Frame it right, and this could actually help your image. The gallant young actor defending-"
"I don't care about my image," I said quietly.
Miyako fell silent. At a red light, she turned to look at me. Her eyes were soft in the glow of the traffic signal, filled with a motherly concern that made my chest ache.
"I know you don't," she said. She reached over and ruffled my wet hair, sending droplets flying. "You did a really good thing back there. Don't forget that." The gentleness in her voice threatened to crack my carefully maintained composure.
I looked down at my hands. They were still shaking slightly. Not from the cold. I could still feel the desperate grip of Akane's fingers as I'd pulled her back from the edge.
The light turned green. Marin's fingers found mine in the darkness, intertwining them. She didn't say anything, just held on.
When we pulled up to the Parkhouse Gran, Miyako killed the engine. "Get some rest. We'll deal with everything else tomorrow." Her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, conveying everything she wasn't saying.
"Thanks," I managed. "For coming to get me." For understanding. For not asking too many questions.
"Always," she said simply.
The private elevator ride to our floor was silent. Marin still hadn't let go of my hand. When we stepped into our apartment, she tugged me toward the bathroom, her movements decisive and gentle at the same time.
"Shower. Now." Her voice brooked no argument. She reached for the hem of her damp shirt, pulling it over her head with practiced ease.
"Marin-"
"You're freezing," she said, working on her jeans now. "And I'm not letting you process whatever happened tonight alone." Her pink eyes held mine, fierce and protective.
I stood there, dripping on the tile floor, as she stripped down to her underwear. She looked at me expectantly.
"You gonna make me undress you too?"
"No."
"Then get moving."
The hot water hit like needles against my cold skin. Marin stepped in behind me, pressing her forehead between my shoulder blades. Her arms wrapped around my waist, fingers splayed across my stomach. I could feel her heartbeat against my back, steady and sure.
"You don't have to tell me," she murmured against my skin. "But I'm here." The simple truth in those words threatened to undo me completely.
I closed my eyes, letting the water run down my face. "She was on the bridge when I found her."
Marin's arms tightened.
"Said she couldn't take it anymore. The comments. The hate. Said she felt like she was drowning in it." I could still hear the desperation in Akane's voice, see the way she'd swayed on the edge.
"But you stopped her."
"Barely." My voice cracked. "If I'd been five minutes later..." The possibility haunted me like a shadow.
"But you weren't."
I turned to face her. Water streamed down her face, plastering her hair to her cheeks. She reached up and touched my face, thumb brushing over my cheekbone.
"You were there," she said firmly. "That's what matters." Her fingers traced the line of my jaw, grounding me in the present moment.
We stayed under the water until it ran cold. Marin wrapped me in a towel, then padded to the bedroom to grab clothes. I caught my reflection in the foggy mirror - pale face, dark circles under my eyes. I looked as exhausted as I felt.
Marin returned with sweats and one of my old t-shirts. She'd thrown on similar comfort clothes, her hair twisted up in a messy bun.
We settled onto the couch, my body heavy with exhaustion. Marin grabbed the remote and flicked through streaming services until she found what she was looking for - some old slice-of-life anime I vaguely recognized from her countless recommendations.
"You'll like this one," she said, pulling my head down onto her thighs. Her fingers threaded through my damp hair, nails scratching lightly against my scalp. "It's about a guy who opens a café in another world, but instead of fighting monsters he just serves them coffee."
"Sounds riveting," I mumbled, but didn't protest as the gentle opening theme started playing.
"Want me to order something? You haven't eaten since-"
I sneezed, cutting her off. "Didn't you have that mukbang thing with Ruby and Kana earlier?"
"Oh yeah, the stream was actu- oh shit!" Marin fumbled for her phone, nearly dropping it on my face. "I completely forgot to check..."
Her thumb scrolled rapidly through what looked like dozens of messages. I caught glimpses of all-caps texts and worried emoji spam.
"They're asking if you're okay," she said, continuing to scroll. "Ruby sent like twenty messages. Kana too."
"Tell them I'm as okay as I can be." I watched the main character on screen meticulously prepare a cappuccino for what appeared to be a very polite dragon.
"You sure? They seem pretty worried."
"Yeah." I closed my eyes as her fingers resumed their path through my hair. "Just... don't tell them details. Not yet."
"Okay." The soft tapping of her typing filled the quiet. "Ruby says she's glad you're safe and sends virtual hugs. Kana says..." Marin snorted. "Well, Kana's being Kana."
"Sounds about right."
We fell into comfortable silence, broken only by the gentle music from the TV and the occasional ping from Marin's phone. The weight of the night still pressed against my chest, but it felt more manageable here in the dim living room, with Marin's steady presence anchoring me.
"This is nice," she said after a while. "We should do this more often. You know, minus the whole saving people from bridges part."
I opened one eye to look up at her. Her face was illuminated by the TV's glow, creating shadows that softened her features. "You just want an excuse to make me watch more anime."
"Maybe." Her smile was small but genuine. "Is it working?"
"The dragon just ordered a flat white. I'm invested now."
Her laugh shook through both of us. "Just wait until you meet the werewolf food critic."
On screen, the café owner was explaining the difference between various coffee roasts to an increasingly confused group of goblins.
"Hey," she said softly. "You know you don't have to be okay, right? Not right now."
I stared at the TV without really seeing it. "I know."
Her fingers stilled in my hair for a moment. "But you're going to try anyway, aren't you?"
"Probably."
She sighed, resuming the gentle motion. "Stubborn."
"You knew that already."
"Yeah." Her voice held a mix of fondness and exasperation. "I did."
We watched three more episodes before exhaustion finally won out. The last thing I remembered was Marin quietly humming along to the ending theme, her fingers still moving through my hair, grounding me in the present moment as sleep pulled me under.
Sunlight pierced through gaps in the curtains, pulling me from sleep. My neck ached from the awkward angle against the armrest. Marin hadn't moved all night - still sitting upright, head tilted back against the couch, mouth slightly open. Her hand rested in my hair where she'd fallen asleep mid-stroke.
The TV displayed Netflix's "Are you still watching?" screen. My phone showed 6:47 AM.
I sat up slowly, careful not to wake her. She stirred slightly but didn't open her eyes. Dark circles had formed under them - she'd stayed up way later than usual because of me.
"Hey," I whispered, testing if she was actually asleep. No response except steady breathing.
The least I could do was move her somewhere more comfortable. I slipped one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and lifted. Her head lolled against my chest as I carried her down the hall to our bedroom.
She mumbled something unintelligible when I set her down, immediately curling around her pillow. I pulled the blanket over her and closed the blackout curtains.
Back in the living room, my phone had accumulated dozens of notifications overnight. Messages from Ruby, Kana, our manager, even a few industry contacts I rarely spoke to. But what caught my eye was Twitter - over 300 mentions.
The hashtag #AkiraArrested sat at number 7 on trending.
"What the hell?"
I scrolled through the tweets. Most contained blurry photos of me running through Shibuya in wet clothes. The captions ranged from concerned to accusatory:
"Anyone know what happened with @AkiraHoshino last night? These pics look scary #AkiraArrested"
"Sources say he was involved in an altercation near Shibuya crossing. No official statement yet."
"He looks unhinged in these photos. Hope he's okay but also maybe stay away from him?"
No mention of Akane anywhere. Good. The last thing she needed was this circus around her right now.
Then I saw it - a tweet from an account called @konbini_kenji:
"Weird encounter last night - @AkiraHoshino came into our store asking about that actress from his show (Akane something?). Guy looked really worried. Anyone know what that was about? #AkiraArrested"
The replies were immediate:
"Nice try clout chasing"
"Proof or it didn't happen"
"Stop making up stories"
@konbini_kenji responded with a grainy CCTV screenshot. There I was, dripping wet at the counter, timestamp clearly visible.
"Still have the footage if anyone doesn't believe me. Not trying to start rumors, just saying what happened."
I clicked his profile. Small account, mostly tweets about convenience store life and cats. Not the usual type to chase celebrity drama.
My phone buzzed - Miyako calling.
"Morning," I answered, keeping my voice low.
"Have you seen the hashtag?"
"Just now. No mention of... you know."
"Small mercies." She sighed. "I'm handling the official response. Stay off social media for now. And Akira?"
"Yeah?"
"Get some rest. I'll send you the statement before it goes out."
I ended the call and scrolled through more tweets. The speculation was getting wilder:
"Anyone else think he's having a breakdown?"
"Probably drugs tbh"
A soft thud from the hallway made me look up. Marin stood there, hair a mess, rubbing her eyes.
"Why'm I in bed?" she mumbled.
"Carried you. Couch isn't great for sleeping upright."
She shuffled over and collapsed next to me on the couch, peering at my phone. "Oh shit."
"Yeah."
"Want me to post something? Set the record straight?"
I shook my head. "Miyako's handling it."
"Kay." She leaned against my shoulder, still half-asleep. "But I'm gonna fight anyone who talks shit about you."
"No you're not."
"Watch me. I'll @ them so hard."
Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch. "Go back to sleep, Marin."
"Mm. Only if you promise not to read any more tweets."
"I need to know what people are saying."
She grabbed my phone and tossed it to the other end of the couch. "No you don't. What you need is breakfast. And maybe some cuddles. Definitely some cuddles."
"Marin-"
"Nope. I'm invoking girlfriend privileges. We're having pancakes and watching more coffee shop anime until Miyako fixes everything."
I looked at my phone, just out of reach. The hashtag was probably climbing higher. More speculation. More rumors. More people trying to piece together what happened.
But Marin was right - I couldn't do anything about it right now.
"Fine. But I'm making the pancakes. You burned them last time."
"That was one time! And they were only a little crispy."
"They set off the smoke alarm."
"Details." She waved dismissively. "Come on, I'll help. I promise not to burn anything this time."
I let her pull me toward the kitchen, leaving my phone and its notifications behind. The world could wait a few hours.
We'd barely started gathering ingredients when my phone rang again. Marin checked the screen.
"It's Ruby," she said. "Want me to answer?"
I nodded, focusing on measuring flour. Marin put it on speaker.
"Akira!" Ruby's voice filled the kitchen. "Are you okay? There's all these weird rumors and Miyako won't tell me anything and-"
"I'm fine," I cut in. "Just some misunderstandings."
"But the photos-"
"Are being handled." I kept my tone gentle. Ruby meant well, but I couldn't deal with more questions right now. "Everything's okay."
"Promise?"
"Promise. How was the mukbang?"
"Oh! It was great! Kana ate like three pounds of meat and then complained about bloating for an hour. Hold on, she's trying to call me too-"
"Actually, we're kind of in the middle of making breakfast," Marin interrupted. "Can we call you back later?"
"Making breakfast or burning it?"
"That was one time!"
Ruby's laugh came through the speaker. "Okay, okay. But text me later?"
"Will do," I said.
After we hung up, Marin looked at me. "You know they're not going to stop asking questions."
"I know." I cracked an egg with more force than necessary. "But I can't tell them yet. Not until..."
"Until you know Akane's okay?"
I nodded.
"She will be," Marin said softly. "Because of you."
I focused on whisking the batter, not trusting myself to respond. Marin bumped her hip against mine.
My phone rang again in the other room. We both ignored it.
"Now," Marin said, brandishing her own whisk like a weapon, "show me how to make these without setting off any alarms."
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