Many people say that they'd like to be an idol. Being adored by fans, making lots of money, becoming famous; now who wouldn't want that? An existence devoted to singing and public appearances. To many admirers, the idol is the epitome of beauty, a completely flawless being living an easy and fortunate life.

Now that's a bunch of baloney.

An easy life? Perfect being? The truth was far from it.

When I was young, I was far from the outspoken and proud star that you see in the magazines. I was just a shy and quiet girl raised in Yasoinaba.

I had trouble talking to people. I stuttered when I spoke, and I mainly kept to myself when class was not in session. Because of my bashfulness, I never made many friends. In my spare time, I would hide myself in my family's tofu shop. My only companions were volumes of old manga.

Because of it, I was bullied a lot in elementary school.

Often, I found myself fantasizing myself as a manga character. That Rise would be friends with everyone. She'd be proud and strong, like Jo**ro K*jo from Part 3.

I sat alone at the table, hoping that one day THAT Rise would take over.

My mind snaps back to reality as the scent of freshly brewed coffee fills my nose.

I guess I can finish my little anecdote another time.

Senpai slides the pink mug over to me, the heat rising to my face.

I stir the sugar and cream, transforming the black liquid into a roasted brown color.

The boy in front of me is busy at work, frying eggs for the rice.

I look a bit lower. His black apron is tied neatly around his hips.

"Y'know…." I began to tease, "Maybe one day you can prepare breakfast in just the apron."

Senpai pauses for a second, before seasoning the eggs.

He's trying to play it off, but I know better.

"Just kidding of course!" I wave my hand dismissively.

I'm just as bad as he is at flirting.

C'mon Rise, if you're gonna start, might as well go all the way.

"Or perhaps," I suggest, hesitating before I say it, "..would you prefer me to cook in just the apron?"

Senpai pauses again. But I detect something different from him. It's not embarrassment, nor is it arousal, but fear.

I don't get it. If an idol, or any cute girl for that matter, offered to cook in such a compromising position, most men would go crazy.

What am I missing here?

Now that I mention it, Senpai seems to act this way every time I mention cooking.

Is it, perhaps, that my cooking is the reason?

I'd like to think of myself as a culinary revolutionary; challenging the norms of regular taste buds. I believe in the marriage of sweet flavors with the intense heat of spices.

Sweet and Spicy, that's just like how I am!

It's true that not everyone can accept progressive sensation of my dishes, but I expect Senpai of all people to appreciate my art.

"Senpai…" I push the question forward, "Is my cooking that bad?"

My boyfriend turns around and gives me a thumbs up. "I've endured much worse."

Is that supposed to make me feel better? Geez, you can be so blunt sometimes.

I slump down in defeat, taking a sip of the coffee.

Senpai lays down several plates in front of me.

Today's lunch consists of fried egg and fish, with rice and miso soup on the side.

I drool just looking at it.

Yu takes the seat across from me and takes the newspaper. He lifts his cherished coffee cup and takes a gulp, exhaling a puff of steam from his mouth.

While it is true that Senpai is his parent's son, he seems to take after his uncle, Ryotaro Dojima.

Going by the way he lounges back while flipping the pages, Yu-senpai didn't just share Dojima-san's good looks.

The novelty coffee mug was given to him by Dojima while they were still living together. So perhaps the mug and Senpai's mannerisms at breakfast were a way of connecting him back to more nostalgic times.

"I humbly receive," Yu-senpai and I bow our heads in gratitude.

I gladly dig in.

Almost immediately, a rush of flavor washes over my tongue. The lightly seasoned crunchy fish compliments the simple soft white rice. The egg is cooked to perfection, crispy, yet soft towards the center. The soup fills me up, invigorating me as it reaches it's location.

Another delicious meal by Senpai. A girl could get used to this.

While it isn't as revolutionary as my own dishes, his cooking is restaurant worthy.

"So, it was good for you too?" he remarks.

I nearly spit out my coffee.

What is that supposed to mean?!

I mean it wasn't bad…. In fact…

He coughs, pointing to the empty plates in front of us.

"The food, was the food good for you too?" The gesture screams.

"Oh…. yes" I chuckle, "It was amazing…" The innuendo was still fresh off my mind as I muttered.

I look upwards at Senpai, his smirk says it all. He's enjoying this.

Senpai can be a real fool sometimes.

Whenever I leave Senpai's apartment, I make absolutely sure that we leave at different times. Since Senpai's first class is earlier than mine, he leaves me with the apartment key.

"I'll be seeing you."

"Be safe."

I kiss him on the cheek on the way out. I already feel like his wife.

I guess it's practice for our life together after college.

What do you mean that's a bit too soon to plan?

Senpai is mine, and I claimed him.

Alone again in Senpai's apartment….

I use this 30 minute window to snoop around Senpai's belongings.

Don't get me wrong. I'd clean the place up, if it had any dirty spots. I honestly wish that he'd leave some dishes or clothes out, so I can play housewife a bit longer.

I look in the medicine cabinet, under the bed, in the closet, but to no avail.

When a woman looks through your belongings, she sometimes is trying to find proof of another woman, or evidence of some underlying problem.

I'm looking for idol merchandise.

CDs, DVDs, Magazines, or posters. Anything will do! As long as it has my face on it.

Now that seems strange, but please hear me out.

I'm so happy that Yu Narukami had fallen in love with Rise Kujikawa. But the pop star "Risette," is also an integral part of her identity.

That being said, Senpai never seemed to care too much for my occupation. When mentioning my new album, he responded with "That's nice." After announcing my concert tour, he nods "Hope you have fun." His reaction to me being on live TV was "That so?"

I knew he wasn't necessarily familiar with my work when we first met. But you'd expect him to take at least a little interest!

He always says that he's proud of me, but I don't really see anything in the house that shows it.

I've given him some of my albums before they even hit the shelves, but where do they go?

I check under the bed, in all of the drawers, under the couch cushions, but to no avail.

Perhaps he's hiding it somewhere hard to access for a girl...my height.

Or maybe he really doesn't have any interest in my hobbies. Perhaps he just isn't interested in that side of me.

No, no good thinking like that Rise.

I make a promise to check above the cabinets next time as I lock the door behind me.

I look to the left, then to the right. No one is there. Good.

Putting on my sunglasses, I make my way to the train station.

To be completely honest, I'm used to avoiding due attention to myself. Being inconspicuous is almost a secondary skill that idols develop. But on this walk to the train station, I have to be even more careful.

If people recognized me in public, the most I'd get would be a small crowd and some pictures. But if I were to be caught leaving someone's apartment….

I'd rather not think about it.

With my bag in hand, I head over to the station with a brisk walk. It was early enough for the streets to be relatively empty.

Though it was only morning, my eyes shifted around as though it was the dead of night.

Reaching the train station gave me much due relief.

That's another bullet dodged.

I took my seat and flipped through my textbook. I scanned over the chapter that we were to cover that day.

Being a perfect idol, and wife is not just about looking pretty anymore. Times are changing, and I gotta work hard in order to make senpai proud of me. If my music can't do it, then I'll impress him with my brain!

Romantic thoughts fill my head as the train leaves the station.