A/N: There are a few things that you should probably know before we begin. I've never played the game, so I will be going off of the wiki and both anime series. Also, while I love these characters, I am not completely thrilled with all the cliché moments. Don't get me wrong, I love a good cliché... but there are A LOT more than there needs to be, you know? I'm not going to change the characters much, or anything, but I'm going to try and make my scenarios a bit more believable. I hope I'm making sense... Anyway, enjoy my first UTA Fic!
Oh, and as a warning, the storyline is not chronological so it will be skipping around. I won't make it too confusing, but I figured I'd let you know.
Our story doesn't start at year one, but chronologically it would.
Year One is the year right after they win the Uta Pri Award. January is always the beginning of a year and December is the end of it.
Pay attention to the year and month I label a chapter to understand the order of events.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own this series, if I did, not everyone would be pinning over the same girl.
Finding the One | Chapter 1 | Hayashi, Fumiko
Year Four - June
"A picture is enough, grandfather. This is not necessary," a displeased Masato explained, the corners of his mouth turning downward despite the fight to keep his emotions off his face.
"Nonsense," his grandfather chuckled. "That is the same thing you said seven Miais ago. Your father is getting restless. We are doing things my way now."
Shifting in his seat, Masato sighed and glanced out the car window. Though the old man's voice was jovial, he could sense the seriousness in his words. There would be no convincing him otherwise now that his mind was set.
"Stealing a look before meeting her will be a good thing. You'll be able to see what she is like normally, without the awkward tension of a Miai. It was a common practice years ago." He smiled fondly. "It's how I chose your grandmother."
"I am aware," the younger man sighed. His grandfather seemed to find it necessary to remind him of this fact every time the topic came up. "However, in modern times, this would be mistaken for... stalking," Masato pointed out, barely containing his discomfort.
He did not want to be mistaken for a suspicion person.
"Then don't get caught," his grandfather stated simply, and shifted through the folder on his lap. "Isn't that part of the thrill?"
Masato chose not to answer, instead tuning him out to pay more attention to the scenery fly by as the limo sped down the road. He didn't see how driving up in a flashy car would help with "not getting caught". It would only attract attention to him, and make it harder to keep a low profile.
Absently, a hand reached up to play with a strand of black hair.-A part of his disguise. As the successor to the Hijirikawa group and member of a popular boy band, there was no way that he could do any type of recon dressed as his normal self. The guise was his grandfather's solution to what he deemed a simple problem.
Masato, however, saw nothing simple about it.
"Hayashi, Fumiko..." His grandfather mused, pulling out the photo of the current marriage partner candidate. "Second born of the head to the Hayashi Group. She's a real beauty, isn't she?"
Much to Masato's relief, the car stopped in an alley next to a community center. It wasn't necessarily the place he expected the daughter of a wealthy family would spend her time.
"Hayashi-san has managed to keep his daughter out of the public eye so that she can live humbly until her marriage partner is decided. The Hayashi Group donates to this place, so her father doesn't mind her spending her time here. If our sources are correct, not many people know exactly who she is."
"I see," he replied, eyeing the building.
Stepping out of the limo, Masato quickly pocketed the photo his grandfather insisted he'd keep and watched with slight dejection as the car backed out in the same direction it had entered from.
His grandfather had given him an hour to observe Fumiko. Masato felt it was far too long a time, but his complaint fell on deaf ears. Much to his dismay.
Exhaling, Masato slid on a pair of round framed glasses to complete the image of an "average citizen". He didn't see how a wig and eyewear was much of a disguise... but as he walked towards the front entrance he found that no one moved to crowd around him as of yet.
His shoulder slumped slightly at this observation, releasing the tension in his shoulders he hadn't known he'd felt. STARISH fans could be a bit ruthless and he'd have no way to escape if they caught him.
Making it inside the community center was much easier than it would have been in normal conditions. It was refreshing. As was the interior of the building. It was cleaner, and more put together than what was normal for a community hot spot, which was easy to assume was the work of the Hayashi Group.
Scanning the people loitering the lobby, Masato pressed his hands closer to his sides-a subtle nervous tick of his. Fumiko was not among any of the clusters of people which gave him mixed feelings.
This increased the chance that he would spot her before she spotted him, but it also meant he would have to find her first. The center had three floors and his grandfather hadn't given him any clue as to where he should look.
Heading down the hall closest to him, Masato glanced discreetly into the rooms as he passed them. From what he could see, the center seemed to cater to all types of hobbies, including dance, swimming, and basketball.
He caught no sight of Fumiko though.
Ten minutes in and Masato was starting to feel ridiculous. He wasn't in a rush to get married. It was his father who insisted that he find someone, and had used the threat of making him quit STARISH to make him agree.
While the fact that he would have to leave STARISH was inevitable, he wanted to delay it as much as possible. Being an idol was something that he loved to do, but he knew he had responsibilities as the Hijirikawa heir. Finding a wife was one of them.
However, all of the women that his father had chosen for his Miais where only chosen based on beauty and status. Masato's own values for a life partner weren't that shallow, and so far the ladies he'd met were only looking to climb the social ladder, not find someone who they would be happy with.
He paused in his steps as Haruka's face flashed into his mind. Frowning, he shook his head. Truth be told, some of the women weren't nearly that bad, but he unconsciously found himself comparing them to the girl he'd let slip through his fingers.
Two years later and he still felt the effects of not being the one she'd chosen. He wasn't like Ren, who a month later dived into the dating world, or like Natsuki, who supported Haruka wholeheartedly despite his feelings. She had been one of the key elements that had led him to become an idol in the first place. It didn't help that he saw her often either.
He wouldn't have it any other way, though. He loved singing her music.
He was sure it was the same for the others too.
Moving to the side, Masato stayed out of the way as a pair of children ran down the hall, snapping him out of his thoughts. Feeling that he had dwelt too long on Haruka, he took the back door that led out to the garden to clear his head.
Turning the corner, he halted, spotting Hayashi, Fumiko a few feet away speaking with a teary eyed young girl. Acting on both shock and instinct, he pressed himself against the wall of the building. Luckily managing to go unnoticed.
The young girl sniffed, rubbing her eyes. "...and, and then they pushed me down!" He caught her say, feeling slightly uncomfortable eavesdropping.
Fumiko sat on the ground beside the girl, her brown eyes surveying her carefully. "Tiga... It's alright," she spoke softly, almost too quiet for him to hear. "Don't cry"
When the girl didn't stop, the woman bit her lip in contemplation. It was unclear of what her next course of action would be, until moments later when she opened her mouth and began to sing.
It started out light and soft, but grew rich and strong, silencing Tiga's tears before the first verse ended. Astonished, Masato turned away, pressing his back against the wall. Her song easing his muttled mind.
It was sweet and gentle, and he lost himself in the words.
