Hi there! There are two reasons I wrote this fic:
I wanted to show Hayama helping Sana instead of the other way around.
I wanted Sana to have a different side to her. After all, nobody can be purely happy all the time.
I hope you don't find this (particularly the second half) to be too OOC, but everybody's a little OOC every now and then. Plus, I did put in the reason why. ; )
WARNING: The following contains mentions of suicide and overall death. If you can't handle it, please do not read it.
Sana Kurata is an actress. She pretends to be someone else, only doing it so well that people never forget her. That is what it means to act. And although she does it well, sometimes she does it too well.
Akito Hayama is observant. He sits quietly, while the world swirls around him, watching his surroundings with such keen eyes that he discovers things that the people themselves haven't discovered yet.
And so that fateful evening, on that 6th grade school trip, when they were sitting side by side in the dusk, he had said those heart-wrenching words.
"It occurs to me that you… are good at acting," he had started off, somewhat hesitantly, but she being the girl she was, laughed it off at the time.
She hadn't known where it was going.
So she said something stupid (as usual) and unnoteworthy, and he had carried on.
"So sometimes, I have this thought - There are times when I think, 'All of her usual cheerfulness could just be an act, couldn't it?'"
That moment she could remember vividly to this day. Time had stopped; the meaning of his words had sunk in. For a second, she was horrified. That couldn't really be happening… right? How had she not noticed?
But she was quick to brush it off without a second glance. Nobody was that good, child star or not. And it wasn't like she was always acting, every second of her entire life.
For the little moments, everyone faked their emotions a little bit. If you were a little too cheerful, or a little too angry, nobody would think twice. And if she didn't stay the same, every day, people called her out for being uncharacteristic.
Jumping up and down, shouting wildly, dancing, singing, it was all part of Sana Kurata. Anything that didn't fall under the definition of happy wasn't used to describe her. That's just how she was.
And at that very moment, he realized something was wrong. At that very instant, he saw through her outer shell to the person underneath.
No, not person. Girl.
Idol, cheerful, kind, loud: those were all just covering the girl underneath. It didn't matter what she had done, even if she came on TV, or if she had saved a certain boy from a life he didn't deserve, because deep down inside, Sana Kurata was just an 11-year-old girl.
And suddenly, a whole world opened up to Hayama.
He saw the cheerfulness as being forced cheerfulness, the smiles hiding the frowns, the dancing being a way to cover up her inner emotions.
Because the world was already gloomy enough as it was without a sad Sana Kurata added to the mix, right?
Hayama stared at the girl - she was dancing at the moment: she was hiding something.
"Something has happened, hasn't it?" he asked carefully. "You're worried about something, huh?"
"Is… that how I look?" she asked curiously, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. Her sworn enemy/best friend had just unleashed her inner demons; the demons she hadn't known she had until minutes ago.
"Mm-hmm."
No one else had noticed her worry. How could this measly boy figure it out?
Softly, she heard him ask, "What happened?" She glanced at him amidst her internal battle, and saw him looking back at her with such acceptance, she was overwhelmed. He wasn't telling her how "un-Sana-like" she was acting.
He was simply asking what was wrong.
Nobody had done that before. Nobody had wanted to listen to her problems, share her burden. Her Mama had let her dwell on her problems herself, (which she was grateful for, but sometimes she needed someone to lean on), and although Rei was looking out for her, he wasn't the type to sit and listen to her rant.
Besides, she tried to convince herself, she didn't have problems. Those weren't necessary, but Hayama's were. She busied herself with him, shoving herself in the far corners of her mind.
She stalled, trying to think of a way to explain what was going on.
"I'm just feeling a little on edge," she said, not knowing where to start. She wasn't used to talking about herself like this, so deeply. She laughed a little to make the tension lighter.
"About what?" he replied. He was still looking at her that way. His posture hadn't moved a millimeter, but even by that time she knew to look to his eyes to see what he really meant. And right now, they were saying, Go on. Don't worry. I'm listening.
Looking back at this turning point, Sana would think that this, this look he gave her was what sent her over the edge.
That's when floodgates opened. She hardly cried, not even by herself, thinking what good would it do if she cried? Nothing. So she didn't. But with him, she felt relaxed. Listened to. Cared for.
At first the tears trickled down her face, shyly, as if wondering what they were doing out in front of someone, a classmate no less.
Although by this point, he was more than just a classmate.
She explained everything, at least all she could before the essay actually came out in public. That's when her real worries would begin.
Sana Kurata burst into tears, something she never would've thought herself to be doing, especially in front of Akito Hayama.
Stop, she willed herself, but the pent-up tears just kept coming.
God, stop, she begged. But she only cried harder.
It was on this day that Akito Hayama, watching the girl he was coming to grow fond of (albeit a little slowly) cry her heart out, realized that Sana Kurata was not always the girl she seemed to be.
As the years went by, Sana felt lost. She felt like she was running to catch a train that all her friends were on, but of course, the train was much faster than her and she was always just out of reach. Then she'd realize that this wasn't even the train she was supposed to catch. Her train left hours ago.
To put it simply, Sana Kurata grew up. She didn't know when or how, but one day she realized that life only got harder.
She was struggling in high school, she expected that. Although she wasn't as busy as she used to be in middle school (how had she survived that? She didn't know.), she didn't go to school every single day.
And that's where her troubles began.
After all, she was still expected to pass her final exams (Principal Naru-Naru wasn't going to bounce around and be carefree for her forever.), but how could she do that if she didn't come to class half the time?
Her friends were concerned and helped her the best they could. Fuuka still tutored her, and so did Hayama (though, she called him Akito now sometimes).
But they sure as hell couldn't take the tests for her.
That was when Sana Kurata almost failed 11th grade.
Thankfully her teachers thought she was determined enough to bring her grades up, so they let her take a makeup test, and after 14 hours of studying (in one sitting), she did pass.
But the incident had shaken her, and now she had to worry about school more than she ever thought she would. Frankly, she didn't care about the lessons in the long run; all she wanted to do was graduate with the rest of her friends.
On top of that, Japan seemed to be doing a lot worse lately. Sana now manned her radio talk show by herself (Fuuka had reluctantly quit because she needed to focus more on studying, her parents had insisted. Fuuka agreed, if only slightly, but she also encouraged her best friend to leave the show for a while and come back to it later. But how could Sana do that? What about all the people who needed to tell someone their worries? They would feel lonely and abandoned without her. With that thought, she worked harder on it than ever before.), and more and more people were coming in, desperately explaining that they wanted to kill themselves, or they were scared of going to jail for something they'd done, or that their friend was taking drugs.
Sana wished more than ever to be able to solve everyone's problems, so she buried herself in her work, other people's worries weighing heavily on her mind.
That's when Hayama came in.
After transferring into Sana's high school, Hayama paid more attention to her than he did before. High school was particularly rough, what with his girlfriend almost failing, but they had made it through.
But all that watching had made him notice: She wasn't on TV anymore, but she was acting more than ever.
He was sure he was the only one who could see it. The way her eyes would shine too bright, as if she was trying to hide the dull, or the way she would be too cheerful, just to show people: I'm not affected at all. Don't worry. I've got it.
But Akito Hayama knew most certainly that she had not got it. He knew, but he didn't know how. The way she would say, "Everything's going to be fine!" when it wasn't, or "Don't worry, I'll fix it!" without the slightest idea how.
She was so caught up in helping others that she forgot to help herself.
Hayama thanked the gods every day, sometimes more than once, that Sana had been able to help him all those years ago. He was only an elementary school student, and he already wanted to die? Sana was his savior. She was literally the reason he was living.
He was forever indebted to her, and now he had a way to help her back.
So when Sana came home from her show, with problems darkening her mood, Hayama would notice. Sometimes it was hard, because he wasn't always there to see the light drain from her eyes only to be replaced by something so bright that it blinded him (and not in a good way), but he vowed to catch every single time that Sana was worried about something and help her with those worries. Not only because she had done the same (without trying, too) but because that was what you do to people you love. Help them when they're down, join them when they're soaring up high.
And so, later in their lives, late at night, Hayama would wake up and feel with his moving arm the space beside him and the rumpled sheets. He wouldn't sigh in weariness, or wonder what happened this time, or even try to go back to sleep. He'd simply get up and walk to the living room sofa in darkness, where Sana was most decidedly curled up.
Those were the times when the worries got to much to bear; those were also the times that she count her blessings and thank anyone, everyone, that Hayama understood her more than she did herself. Because right when she'd be drowning in her lake of anxiety, Hayama would be there, saying the same thing every single time.
"Sana, it's cold." (Even if it wasn't.) "Come back to bed."
And sweet, sassy, all-too-sensitive Sana would let herself be pulled back into the bedroom, laid down, and tucked into bed. It was as if she was a scared little child. Hayama knew she wasn't, but couldn't help but treat her with care. She had for him too.
So he'd lay back on his side of the bed, scooch closer, drape his half-limp arm around her waist and use the other hand to stroke her face, softly whispering, "What's wrong?"
These kinds of things almost always happened in the middle of the night, when both their guards were down and it was just her, him, and the silence.
Sana wouldn't dare utter these things when they weren't alone. It was useless to place a burden on some unsuspecting person. (With Hayama, though, she didn't feel too bad about leaning on him. He wanted her to, and somewhere deep in her heart, she knew she needed someone to lean on.)
Hayama wasn't the comforting type. He wouldn't let anyone see this side of him that he didn't trust with his life (which really was just Sana).
In the daytime, they were just Sana and Hayama, the bubbly child star and her perverted "problem student" boyfriend. He would say something particularly perverted and she would whack him with her rubber hammer (these days, it was bigger, so it had a bigger impact), and their friends would laugh and roll their eyes.
But in the dark room, under the cool covers, their souls were bared. They were in elementary school all over again, under that familiar gazebo, except instead of Sana comforting Hayama, it was the other was around.
When Hayama would ask Sana, "What's wrong?" in that gentle voice of his, with his breath fanning her face, her heart would speed up.
He was so close.
But he was also so unlike that broken boy she'd become friends with when they were just kids.
And so she sighed, scooched a little closer (if she even could), and whispered, her voice cracking, "Someone died today again."
Hayama's heart froze. He may not be as sensitive as his girlfriend, but there was an ache when he heard those words. They may have sounded very common, but he knew the meaning behind them.
Sana got notes from people who were considering suicide all the time. She did her best to help them, and most of the time she did.
But sometimes they would go through with it anyway.
Hayama focused his gaze back on her and saw that tears were silently streaming down her face. She made no move to wipe them away, but instead said, "She was fourteen."
Hayama jolted. A 14-year-old? Dead?
Sana squeezed her eyes shut, as if it would change the girl's death. She took a shuddering breath and started to mumble, "Her name was Black and White and Gray - at least, her pen name was - and I met her at a cafe once. She seemed to be doing okay, and I thought I'd helped her, at least a little bit, but then this morning it came on the news that Kaede Himoto was dead and - and - they showed her picture and I recognized her and they said that they thought she may have killed herself because she was depressed ever since her father died and she told me when I met her, but I didn't ask her too much about it, and instead focused on her mother instead because she implied that her mother was sort of neglecting her, but I didn't know she was so hurt about her father! And then she - she-!"
"It's all my fault!" Sana gasped, tears flowing harder and more freely than before. "If only I'd asked her about him, then she would've opened up and-"
"Shh," Hayama soothed, "I'm sorry, Sana." He gently wiped her tears away, but they kept coming, and so he did until they stopped. When she had quieted down, he offered, "Let's go to her funeral, okay? I know this isn't your fault. It isn't anybody's. I'm sure she would be happy to have you there."
The truth was, Sana had forgotten, but he had met this girl. And Sana was right, she did seem okay. And she liked Sana, so he knew that she would like her coming to her funeral.
"They're - they're gonna turn her into ashes," Sana sniffled, thoroughly worn out. "Because she liked birds. And when they free the ashes in the wind, it'll be… just like she's… flying…"
Sana drifted off into a half-asleep haze with Hayama beside her.
Sana Kurata isn't so much of an actress anymore, but she does act quite a lot. She pretends to be someone else, so nobody can ever venture deep into her heart and see her inner demons.
Akito Hayama is observant, but he doesn't have to be. One look at Sana and he knows something's up. So he asks her what's wrong and slowly she tells him.
And so, they help each other. Sana did when he was just a little kid, and he does now that she's all grown up. Many things come through their lives, but they'll always be together, side by side, under the sheets. And for now, that's all that matters.
Tell me if the ending is too sucky, 'kay? And I hoped you enjoyed the fic!
Have an awesome day~!