note: AU, in which Satoshi never told Mayaka he liked her on Valentine's Day, resulting in them never getting together in high school.
queens can't sleep
(part 1 of 3)
花
"Ibara, the sales numbers are in and they're ordering a reprint of volume seven!"
"Ah, that's great. Thanks as always for your guidance, Yamamoto-san."
"Stop with the formalities, Ibara. We've been working together for over two years already."
"I know, I know," Mayaka says, hoping that the slight twinge of frustration doesn't show in her voice. Yamamoto's always been a dense character when manuscripts aren't concerned, so she doesn't need to worry too much about that. She taps her fingernail against the surface of her cluttered desk. "Um, Is there anything else you need to tell me, Yamamoto-san? I'm kind of– "
"Oh right! The reason why I called was to remind you that chapter 54's manuscript is due tomorrow evening. I'll come and collect it around the usual time, alright?" her editor cuts in. Mayaka rubs her hand against her forehead. Ao plucks a tissue out of its box and passes it to her. Mayaka examines her hand, finding ink stains on them and now most likely on her forehead too.
"S-sure thing," she answers Yamamoto as she wipes the tissue against her forehead.
"Always reliable, Ibara!" And he hangs up after that, the phone line clicking off. Mayaka immediately tosses it over onto the sofa and slams her hands on her desk to get everyone's attention. "Where are the screentones for page 5, 12 and 22?"
Midori waves them at her from her desk.
"Outlines for pages 10 to 25?"
"I'm halfway through them!" Ao chimes.
"How many pages are officially done, then?" Mayaka uncaps a marker, tracing the finishing touches on the cover page of the chapter. Beneath it are a thin stack of pages she still has to make edits to. It's ten o' clock at night.
"Only four, Ibara-san!" Akai shouts from her corner.
Mayaka sighs. She shoves her sleeves up to her elbows. "We're going to have to pull an all-nighter, girls!"
志
Satoshi purchases the latest issue of Margaret from a convenience store and immediately thumbs his way through to the manga he's interested in. Mayaka's done a great job this time too, the cover page full of life even though it's been printed in black and white, the heroine and her crush dressed in quirky outfits that teens these days would never think of wearing.
He dog-ears the first page and clamps the magazine under one arm. Stepping out of the store, he catches the time flashing across an electronic mega-screen on one of the taller buildings in the district. He still has about half an hour to spare before he has to get back to his office for another afternoon of wading through articles and phone calls. He wishes that the off-peak season would end soon. Being a travel writer is only fun when he gets to actually do some travelling. He'd discovered this in the early part of the years with his current company.
As he strolls past a well-furnished bakery, he comes to a stop at the display and peers inside. When he confirms that they're selling mango cakes, he smiles and pushes the door aside as a bell rings overhead.
…
"Hello, Ibara residence." Midori is the one who answers the phone. She's a quiet and stalwart college girl majoring in arts, better known as the assistant who's been working with Mayaka the longest - ever since she started her first long-running series in Margaret over two years ago. Midori's most defining trait is her hair, always tamed in its cute little bob.
"Midori-san? It's Satoshi," he says as he boards the train. "Will Mayaka be free today? I bought too many cakes during lunch. I'd like to pass some to her. I should have enough to share with the rest of you too."
When Midori doesn't say anything after a few seconds, Satoshi wonders if it's because the reception in the train tunnel is faulty. He shakes his phone out of habit, the phone charm clicking against its plastic. "Hello? Midori-san?"
"- sorry for that, Fukube-san. I'm doing the action lines of two pages and adding tones to another. Ibara-san is doing twice the amount I am, so I don't think she'll be able to come to the phone," Midori suddenly replies, as if remembering that she's on the phone, sounding almost out of breath. Satoshi checks his wristwatch. It's a Friday. Mayaka usually submits her chapters on Friday nights. That explains it.
"Do you need me to go over to help out later?"
Midori repeats the question to Mayaka over the sound of pens dancing and pages flipping. "No, it's alright. Ibara-san is confident that we'll be done by the evening. You can come after then, she says. She's asking if you can buy dinner for the three of us. Akai-chan, Ao-chan and me, I mean. We haven't eaten anything other than bread the entire day."
"What about Mayaka?"
"Ibara-san's asking me to put the phone down now, Fukube-san! Talk to you later!"
Midori hangs up just as the train emerges out of the underground tunnel. Satoshi eyes the map printed above the doors in the dizzying lunch crowd. Still over four stops to go before he reaches his office. Beyond that, Mayaka's place is only three stops away, one interchange station in between. He hopes the cakes will survive the journey till then.
…
Satoshi thinks that the odds of the cakes' survival are pretty low now. Having been squashed in the packed train at the end of the working day, and being accidently flung around in a crowded shopping mall as Satoshi bought dinner for Mayaka and her assistants, it's a miracle that the box is still mostly intact.
He wallows a little in the tragedy of crushed cake as he nears Mayaka's apartment building. At the lobby, he bumps into Midori and the others. Akai quickly relieves him of the three bowls of takeaway ramen while Ao apologises profusely for making him carry their dinners all the way up the street, her pigtails swishing up and down.
"I hope you and Ibara-san have a nice dinner together," Midori comments offhandedly and Satoshi has to remind the three of them for the umpteenth time that, 'we're not like that', and he tries not to come off as irritated, because if they mention anything like that around Mayaka, he wonders how much hurt she has to hide.
"Yeah, yeah," Akai hums, skeptical behind her glasses. She's always come off as rather intimidating, and the fact that she's taller than him doesn't help.
Satoshi grinds the heel of one loafer into the tiled floor. "You don't talk to Mayaka about silly things like these, do you?"
"We tease her sometimes. You know how ladies are," Midori says.
"Don't." His voice is level but the plastic bag in his hand crinkles when he tightens his grip. "… we're not like that, so don't bring it up," Satoshi repeats. The girls huddle together and shrink in unison, his reply unexpectedly heavy for them.
"We're sorry!" Ao is the first to speak.
"We were just kidding," Akai adds, rolling her eyes.
Satoshi produces his usual practiced laugh to break the tension. "It's fine!" he says with a grin. "I might have been overreacting, sorry 'bout that." He hands them the cakes as well. "You guys can take these on your way out too. They're a little misshapen but go and have a party with them!"
Akai frowns a little, as if to say 'hooray, leftover cake' and Ao makes sure that they pay him back the exact amount the meals cost and Midori smiles pleasantly before the three of them take their leave, expressive and lively in their youth. Thinking about it that way makes Satoshi seem old, but being twenty-five isn't exactly a flattering number compared to Midori's twenty-one and Ao's eighteen.
He takes the lift up to Mayaka's apartment on the eighth floor and rings the doorbell with his free hand, his briefcase and her dinner in the other. He looks at the shoerack just outside as he waits for her to answer the door, half-empty now that the assistants have left. For a girl, Mayaka has very little shoes. She only owns one pair of slippers, another pair of sneakers, and some flats that have minimalist designs and quiet colours. Her heels, he remembers her having about three pairs or so, are stored in the closet behind the door – Satoshi knows far too much about her shoes.
After all this, Mayaka still hasn't come to the door. He crouches to face the two potted plates sitting next to the gate and lifts one to find the ring of keys hidden underneath. He unlocks the gate and front door, calling out her name before he enters the apartment just incase she's in the shower or something. He's just here to deliver the food. He can leave it on the dining table and go off after that. This had been his initial plan, careful and foolproof. However, when there is no reply, Satoshi quickly closes the door behind himself and hurries into the living room. He finds Mayaka lying on the floor, spreadeagled and unmoving, chest rising and falling at a gentle pace. She must be exhausted from rushing her manuscript. This pattern of hers is not new. Sometimes she's asleep at her desk and sometimes on the sofa – choosing to doze off on the floor is new though. Satoshi places his things on the table and carries her to bed.
"You've got to stop overworking yourself like this," he whispers quietly even though she can't hear him.
He puts her down on the mattress and is prepared to let go of her. What he isn't prepared for is Mayaka reaching out and pulling him closer to her.
"Mayaka?"
"Stop. Don't go," she whispers into his shirt, eyes still closed.
"Mayaka, don't," Satoshi begins, but Mayaka's still tugging and he rests one knee on her covers. "Mayaka, we're not supposed to be like this."
"What did you buy me for dinner?" she asks, throwing him off guard.
"Char siew ramen with extra spring onion," he answers, her favourite, and falls into her trap.
"That's what I thought," Mayaka says, sounding pleased yet saddened by the fact. She cracks open her eyes, looking beautiful without even trying. She exhales against his collarbone, loosening his tie, "You have as much blame in this as me."
Satoshi feels taken aback, and he can't give her a reply that doesn't implicate himself. Mayaka kisses the skin underneath his collar and he gives up and gives in because this isn't the first time they're doing this. That should be reason enough for him to step away but Mayaka's hands are smeared with ink and her hair smells familiar and sometimes, in rare moments like these that he can't control, Satoshi ends up loving her more than he hates himself, if only for a while. This reminds him of high school graduation.
In the end, it's the same result even if he gives in or doesn't give in to Mayaka, the only difference is which lets him fall asleep with less guilt clouding his mind.
Their first time is only months after they graduate from university. They're twenty-three. That particular week, Chitanda claps her hands once, summoning everyone to her father's favourite bar just twenty minutes away from the Chitanda estate for an impromptu meet-up.
Chitanda is a person of elaborate schedules and perfect order and informing people a month in advance about appointments and the like, so when she calls Mayaka up one evening, embarrassed and apologetic for telling her on 'such short notice', Mayaka and Satoshi are ready to depart the next afternoon. They live in different parts of Tokyo, but it wouldn't make sense to return to Kamiyama separately. So common sense is the only thing dictating that they should meet at a train platform, pride and awkwardness and love stomped under the soles of their shoes. Just like always.
It takes them over five hours to return to Kamiyama. It's a three and a half hour commute from Tokyo to Okayama, followed by transferring to another railway from Okayama to reach the Tokushima prefecture where little Kamiyama is nestled.
Mayaka and him make light conversation and read books during the first half of the trip. They hit it off with the elderly man sitting across from them. Satoshi has always assumed the generic old man to be cranky. This one had been too, arms folded and staring off into the scenery running past the window. Maybe it's because Mayaka is around, but when she offers the old man a spare onigiri for afternoon tea, the frown flips into an open smile. He'd looked lonely, without any packed snacks. Now he looks like the happiest octogenarian on earth.
Mayaka doesn't believe or isn't aware of the effect she has on people. Because of her childlike face and friendly way of speaking, she naturally attracts a lot of good first impressions. It's always been that way since middle school. Of course, when she reveals she isn't as demure or as tolerant as her face reflects, people skulk away, disillusioned. Mayaka never lets it get to her. Satoshi lov–… Satoshi likes that part of her.
"You both on a trip?"
"We're going back to our hometown to visit friends," he says as Mayaka unwraps her own onigiri.
"Ah, what a coincidence. I'm going back to mine to visit my wife," the old man chuckles as he makes his way through the riceball. "It's nice to get away from the city for awhile." He reaches into his shirt pocket for a handkerchief to wipe the stray rice off his face. After folding it neatly and adjusting his bow tie, he adds, "Us countryfolk feel so out of place in the hustle and bustle of big ol' Tokyo, eh?"
"It's true," Satoshi says with a nod. He sometimes misses the unhurried pace of life in Kamiyama. "But if that's the case, why do you live in the city?"
The old man chews thoughtfully and swallows. "My kid's family is over there. 'Course I'd follow them, I'd be pretty lonely otherwise. I can complain all I want with them. At least they're there to hear me. If I'd stayed in the country, there'd be no one around to hear me. Humans are hypocritical, aren't they? Demanding one thing and then not wanting to accept the consequences of their demands. Or is it just me?"
"I think I understand," Mayaka is the one who replies. She's pouring orange juice out of a thermos and begins to offer it to him as well, only to have the old man wave his hand politely. "Diabetes," he explains, and Mayaka transfers the cup into Satoshi's hands instead. The old man pulls out his own thermos from his small bagpack, and the faint smell of green tea fills their half-emptied carriage.
"So, why'd your friends stay in the countryside?" he asks after a sip. "That's pretty odd for young people like you these days."
"They're working, and they're happy there," Satoshi says. Houtarou and Chitanda never yielded much interest to city life, content to stay as they were for their own personal reasons. While staying or leaving Kamiyama were never big questions in the mellow mind of Houtarou, Chitanda always knew that she had to remain by her duties. Satoshi thinks it's admirable of her to be able to stick to her guns, no matter how daunting they may be. Compared to her, he's nothing much at all.
"What about your wife, sir?" Mayaka asks curiously.
"She's sleeping."
"Oh, I see– "
"No, no, it's okay. I envy her to be honest. When it's my time, I'll join her here too. Not a bad place to rest, is it? Japan's growing day by day, those skyscrapers getting taller and taller until I can't see the top with my bad eyes. But one place they'll never touch is the countryside."
Satoshi and Mayaka can only nod quietly at that, not knowing what else to say. Satoshi can't help but feel like he's still a child compared to the person sitting idly opposite them.
"Anyway, you two together or -?"
"We aren't!" When Mayaka raises her voice without warning, the old man jolts and clasps his heart. "Ah – I'm sorry, sir! Are you alright?"
"I'm okay," he laughs as he lowers his hand, "that was a joke, you see."
Mayaka falls back on her seat in relief. The senior chortles, pleased with himself. "Well, a sweet girl like her still trusts you enough to travel alone with you, boy. You're very lucky."
"I know," Satoshi says. He catches Mayaka bite her lip from the corner of his eye, blushing. Ah, he's being careless.
The conversation after that quietens until they disembark at Okayama. They bid farewell to the friendly old man, Mayaka passing him a couple more riceballs for an early dinner as a parting gift. Before he turns to leave, the old man looks at Satoshi with a smile and something else that he doesn't want to acknowledge.
Without a third party, Satoshi feels less obligated to talk. The less he talks to Mayaka the better, he thinks as they board the next train and find seats near the front. Of course, what he does never coincides with what he thinks. Satoshi tells himself, 'you really are still just a brat' when he asks her about Fuyamato Kasabe. Kasabe debuted in the shoujo manga scene recently – a mysterious manga artist who publishes oneshots every few months with a shockingly large nerve. Her stories all end in tragedy, with the heroine never quite managing to get together with her true love.
"Kind of depressing, huh? But they can't relegate her stories to other genres because it still falls under the shoujo," Satoshi comments. Mayaka nods, adjusting her reading glasses as she works on a storyboard for her next chapter. "She's interesting," she says, tapping her pencil against the shell of her ear.
They don't bring up the fact that Mayaka uses his shoulder as a headrest for the second half of the ride to Kamiyama. It's a tiring journey.
Mayaka has to continue her work the day after next and Satoshi's waiting to get called in for a job interview. Because of that, they aren't prepared to stay the night in their hometown. When they meet in front of a café, Chitanda frowns and says, 'that's a shame' and trust Chitanda to sound like she really means it. Houtarou says, 'maybe we can visit you both next time then', sounding like he really means it too. Being around Chitanda has its benefits. Houtarou's a far more sociable person now. It's nice. But he still can't smile to save his life.
The four of them walk to the bar, Mayaka and Chitanda holding hands in the front with Satoshi and Houtarou bringing up the rear, nostalgia overtaking them. They talk about studies and job prospects and Houtarou tells Mayaka that he's been religiously following the new chapters of her new publication in Margaret and is waiting in fervent anticipation to see Neru's love blossom in full bloom for the entire school to see. Mayaka nearly returns Houtarou's gesture with a black eye.
"The fact that our Ibara is writing shoujo manga is surreal," Houtarou mumbles to Satoshi, one hand cupped over his face as a precautionary measure now.
"It's all about perspective, Houtarou!" Satoshi answers, and doesn't like the fact that he sounds right. It's a good thing the bar isn't too far and they arrive before there's a chance to sink too deep into reminiscing. Satoshi feels like an adult again when they are directed into a cosy booth and are handed a menu of alcoholic drinks. He and Mayaka are forced to sit together on one side by virtue of the fact that Houtarou and Chitanda can no longer sit apart. Mayaka puts her handbag between them and Satoshi fortifies the barricade by placing his scarf on top of it.
"It's nice to see everyone again, but what's this meeting about?" Satoshi asks as soon as they've finished ordering their food and drinks.
Chitanda sparkles and Houtarou leans on one elbow. "Ah, we didn't want to say this too ahead of time, since there are still many things to plan, but…" she trails off, gazing thoughtfully at Houtarou. Houtarou doesn't seem to accept the honour of revealing the news because he sips his green tea and keeps his eyes on his lap.
"Houtarou…" Mayaka warns him.
"Houtarou-san," Chitanda asks him nicely.
"Houtarou!" Satoshi chirps, just to join in on the fun.
Unable to bear his name being repeated three times, the man sighs and mumbles, "We're… engaged."
Mayaka sits back, her eyes widening shock. "Whaaaaat?" she draws it out, and Satoshi can't help but laugh. Chitanda smiles appreciatively while Houtarou takes another sip from his cup, as if tea had the sudden ability to ail embarrassment. "Who would've thought that a slug could get married," Mayaka continues, "not that there's anything bad about it, Chi-chan!" she adds, turning her attention to Chitanda. The girls lace their hands together over the tabletop and chatter about the variety of wedding dresses to consider and let's not forget kimonos and food and who to invite and where and when and the colour of the invitation cards.
"Congratulations!" Mayaka punctuates their whirlwind of a discussion with a smile, her mood doing a complete u-turn.
"I'll be looking forward to the wedding!" Satoshi stands up briefly to pat Houtarou's shoulder and shake hands with Chitanda. "If you need any help with the planning, you know who to call!"
"That's right!" Mayaka seconds.
Chitanda tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was hoping you two would say that. We're incredibly grateful! I just hope that we won't trouble you too much." Still thinking about others even when the spotlight is on her and Houtarou, Chitanda is a lady through and through. It makes sense that she would get married early for the sake of her family, and Houtarou probably doesn't object because this is far easier than enduring a long, extensive courtship. The two of them are suited for each other and they've accepted it with minimal bumps on the way. Satoshi crosses his ankles and the grip on his jacket sleeve tightens, but a smile spreads across his face either way.
"What about you, Maya-chan? And Satoshi-sa– " Chitanda stops halfway and looks to her left, where Houtarou is sitting.
"The food taking too long." Houtarou ducks his head out of the booth and is answered with the waiter nearly ramming a tray against his forehead. Mayaka sighs at the lost opportunity while Chitanda and Satoshi rearrange the utensils to make way for the dishes. Secretly, Satoshi wants to thank Houtarou for changing the topic, but feels the inexplicable urge to punch him too. Satoshi diverts the conversation away from him and Mayaka – another useless talent in his repertoire, and the four of them spend the rest of the evening retelling stories from university and passing sushi across the table.
…
"When do you want to get married, Mayaka?" he asks her conversationally as they stroll back to the station. They need to make it there in fifteen minutes or they'll miss the last train out of town.
"When do you?" she echoes.
"I don't," Satoshi says with his strongest smile.
Mayaka looks away from him, gluing her eyes to the street, her face shadowed under the night sky. They don't say anything after that, until Mayaka trips against the kerb of the road and Satoshi grabs her elbow to keep her steady.
"Sorry," she hiccups, still not looking up, " – must have drank too much, my head's a little…" she trails off, her completion healthy and her eyes clear. Satoshi remembers half-finished cups of sake and Chitanda's hand, white and dignified and raised to ask for the bill, Houtarou's heavy stares, Mayaka wiping her half-open mouth with a napkin. Everything else spins into a blur, and he props the blame against whatever alcohol he has in his system.
"I know what you mean," he says, rubbing his knuckles against his forehead to make it more believable. "Do you want to sit down and rest somewhere first?"
Mayaka plonks herself down on the side of the empty street, drawing her knees up and open. It's a good thing she's wearing jeans.
"Mayaka, how about somewhere more comfortable?"
"Like where?" she asks, sounding pissed. They can pretend that it's because of the alcohol.
He holds his hand out to her and when she takes it and locks her fingers around his, Satoshi doesn't try to stop himself anymore. They're still just young enough to use an inexhaustive list of excuses for what happens next: Houtarou and Chitanda and the way their shoulders had grazed as they walked off in the opposite direction, not knowing right from wrong, having no self-control, loneliness, too much sake, an old man visiting the woman he loves waiting tens of thousands of kilometres away. Almost too many, it's hard to decide which to pick for a scapegoat. The only thing they can agree on is the decision to kiss on that quiet street half cast in darkness. Mayaka's lips are soft but the way she moves against his mouth is sharp like a blade, cutting deep but not deep enough for them to avoid the fact that it's late and the last train is pulling out of the station. Her neck is pale and soft under the dim glow of the moon and he pulls her closer.
花
They stagger into Satoshi's old bedroom. His family is conveniently out of town for a trip, his room the way she remembers from the times she came to visit during her middle school and high school years. In the darkness, she can make out his bed, desk, and the wallpaper of bags he couldn't pack with him to the city. Satoshi, eyes barely open, begins to say something, like 'are you su– ' but he doesn't get to finish because she yanks him closer and bites onto his lower lip, too coarse for her own tastes, but enough to get the message across. Mayaka closes her eyes as the back of her knees press into the bed and she pulls Satoshi down with her when she falls.
He breathes 'sorry's on her skin, one on her throat and another at the slant of her shoulders, then underneath her bra and on her stomach and into the dead end of her elbow. He kisses these apologies as if they could fix everything that's happened and everything that will happen even though Mayaka is too stubborn for that to ever work. But the only thing she feels is happy. And she realizes, as his tongue skirts over the jut of her hipbone, that this is the happiest she will ever be.
志
When Satoshi opens his eyes, the bare white ceiling and the numerous posters of shoujo heroines pasted on the opposite wall makes him think 'this isn't my room' and then he feels Mayaka's waist under his palm and thinks 'this isn't mine either'. He can smell the uneaten ramen left on the counter outside and it's too early for someone like him to be awake, but after a great determination that feels misplaced in such early hours of the morning, Satoshi wills himself off the pillow and away from the warmth of someone else sleeping next to him. As he untangles himself from her and the bedsheets, getting up to leave, Mayaka awakes with a start and snaps into attention, clutching onto him. He jerks back down onto the bed.
"Stop."
"Mayaka, let go."
"No." Her face is buried against his side.
"Let go."
"Not until you promise this isn't going to be the last time."
Satoshi can't reply. He turns to face her, but not all the way, and eases a hand on her shoulder to persuade her to release him and she only grips tighter, her shoulder blades, small but hard, arching into his palm. Satoshi immediately removes his hand. "Mayaka," he says, not quite knowing what he means because it's five in the morning and this is the person he can't help but love and she's too much for him sometimes.
"Satoshi," she says, brave and challenging, reminding him of high school and happy afternoons locked away in a dusty room and Houtarou's slouch and Eru's eyes and the days where pretending to be happy hadn't been so hard and he feels angry all of a sudden.
"Mayaka!" he shouts this time, loud and furious, his muscles tensing. He forces himself off the mattress, dragging her along with him. He wants the bed to creak, their footsteps to bang loudly against the floor, any form of noise to explode and distract him. But there is no sound apart from their breaths, out of sync and desperate, and Satoshi wants to surrender but doesn't want Mayaka to lose. She still refuses to let him escape, fingernails scratching against his skin, and Satoshi feels the hike of frustration subside when she cranes her neck to look up at him.
She isn't crying, and it makes him feel like crying in return.
Satoshi slowly lowers himself onto the floor of her room, hands sliding onto his face, fingertips cold without Mayaka's touch, and Mayaka guides herself around him like his heart is a map she's learned to navigate. She's warm and her arms are a home, small and safe, that he can't go back to, but Satoshi has always been selfish and unfair so he hides himself against the corner of her shoulder. And he can't be sure if he's crying because Mayaka is being too much again, he forgets about himself when he's too close to her.
