Exams are coming up and I'm dying, but I had to get this up. Hope it's to satisfaction :)
Four
"Sounds like he should just ask you out on an official date already," Rima dismisses, leaning against the counter. Narrowed eyes peer at Amu inquiringly.
They're at the café, and it's a quiet Thursday. The only people are a pair of sleep deprived looking college students, and the lone businessman sitting at a window table. Rima's taken advantage of it to polish off one of the blueberry muffins.
"He didn't say anything like that," Amu protests. "And it's not like he asked me, even when we spent time together outside of the café."
"Well then maybe you should ask," Rima answers matter of factly.
Amu sighs, and turns back towards the cash register as if it might give her some answers. Their measly encounters don't make a romance story, and neither does one sided obsession. Ikuto isn't her boyfriend or lover or anything close. There's no need to pretend that he is.
When he drops by her café, he'll stop to talk, and he's offhandedly mentioned another performance sometime but...
It doesn't mean anything.
The bell rings, a chiming sound that slips through the mostly quiet café with gentle surreptitiousness. Amu turns to Rima, starts to comment that Yaya's early today, when the words die in her mouth.
Coming through the door, setting a brisk pace, is a tall blonde with dark sunglasses. Her heels click on the tiled floors. A step behind her is a broader, more athletic figure with a wide smile that directly contrasts the tight expression on his companion's face.
For a moment, the pieces don't fit correctly.
Then it clicks. Utau Hoshina and Kukai Souma, only one of the most highly publicized couples in the celebrity world, have both just walked into her café. As an international pop idol and professional soccer player, they're a little more than extremely important. It's a little remarkable how they've hidden in plain sight.
Amu puts on a smile, and moves to greet them. She holds back the undignified excitement that flutters in her stomach. She knows them. Everyone knows them. She's meeting them.
"Hi," she says. "Can I get you something?"
Utau eyes the frilly surroundings with a sharp expression over the top of her designer frames. There is an air of casual importance around her, a presence that demands that everyone turn when she walks into a room. It's the same power she wields on stage even though the quiet, pastel café is far from the same as a concert venue.
"Pardon me." Even her voice has an extra layer of superiority. "But are you-"
"Two lemon bars, please," Kukai cuts in hastily. "With green tea and a strawberry smoothie."
Amu blinks for a moment. It's a little disconcerting to be talking to someone she's only seen on television. Not unlike through the LCD screen, his hair is deliberately wind blown and tousled, with several copper strands almost sweeping his eyes from under his baseball cap. It's drawn strategically over his eyes. He's obviously well built, with sleek muscles and squared shoulders.
"Right..." she says slowly, and then she's jerked into action. "Right, of course. Size?"
"Medium," Kukai asserts, sliding a card across the counter.
Utau shoots him a glance, and there is a distinctively cool quality to the hard shine of her gaze. There is a hidden sense of reproach. Amu tilts her head with curiosity, but then she bustles around fetching the mentioned pastries from the glass case. The drinks are a short affair, made methodically with typical precision even though her mind is much less organized.
When she sets them on the counter with the doilies as an extra touch, Kukai offers a half smile before taking them. Then he pauses.
"Utau and I," he says slowly, "would like to talk to you just briefly. Perhaps if you could duck away for several moments?"
"Uh," Amu stammers, a little flustered. Her cool persona has been compromised in the presence of stardom. "Well..."
"Go," Rima interjects. "I'll take care of this until you're done."
They step into the corner, away from the customers who still haven't gotten close enough to recognize either of them. Utau's mouth is still set in a firm scowl. Amu waits for an explanation. She's left hanging for a good two minutes before Utau nods, sliding her sunglasses down a fraction.
"You're Amu Hinamori, correct? My brother knows you."
"Yes?" Amu mumbles, confused enough that she can't even be excited a popstar knows her name. She looks towards Kukai, but he seems content to have his girlfriend handle it.
Utau holds up an envelope towards her insistently until she takes it. "I've obtained an extra invitation to the Hotori charity gala. If you're willing, I've scrawled a number on the inside. Just call that add yourself to the guest list."
Amu blinks. "Um, I don't think-"
Utau's stare is unrelenting, even behind the shades. "Think on it. It's quite simple, no?"
She swallows her protests. "I suppose," she mumbles.
Kukai sends an apologetic shrug Amu's way, and she hears him mutter something about being nicer to people at Utau. "Well thank you for serving us," he says with a half smile.
Utau offers a brief nod of acknowledgement, and then they're out the door, leaving a jingle in their wake. Amu blinks.
A quick Google search cross referenced with that magazine she'd bought so long ago reveals everything. Utau Hoshina brother directs her to Ikuto, and Amu quickly connects the dots. The vague inkling she'd had solidifies. It's why that's the question.
She leaves the envelope on her dresser and flops onto her bed, letting out a soft murmur of content as she sinks into the pillows. The one bedroom apartment's a good fit for just her.
Amu drifts off to sleep with her jeans still on. After a brief nap, she jerks awake when her phone starts buzzing. Throwing out an arm, she pulls it closer and props herself up. A quick glance at the clock reveals the fact it's almost eight in the evening.
"Hello?" she says, the dryness of her throat leading to a more croaky sound than she originally anticipated.
"It's me." Nagihiko's voice is warm and smooth. "Have you eaten?"
Amu blinks, a little more awake now. She throws her feet to the side of the bed and turns so she faces her dresser. A mirror is placed on top, and a wide eyed girl with mussed hair stares back at her from within the silver depths.
"Oh well not really. But I'm not that hungry."
Nagihiko pauses. "Are you at home right now? Free?"
"Yeah."
"Come down. I'll find you in the front in ten. See you."
Amu starts to ask what's up, but the line goes dead. She sighs and stands. After sliding her phone into her pocket, she loops her keys around her neck and makes her way to the elevator.
True to his word, Nagihiko meets her on time, with a paper bag in one hand and bottled coke in the other. His smile is a little crooked, but his sincerity is real.
"I didn't get fries because I couldn't bring ketchup."
"Now I know who to blame when I get fat," she jokes, taking the paper bag at the same time. There are no pretenses between the two of them. "You okay? What's up?"
"Walk with me," he says instead.
Amu falls into step with him and they move away from the front of the building onto the sidewalk. It's starting to get dark, and the sun is slowly falling from the sky. The distant clouds are tinged with blush.
Nagihiko seems more pensive than usual, and he cuts a sharp profile in the dying light. The crinkle of paper as she unwraps the hamburger is the only sound from them, coloured by cars in the background.
"I got a visit from Utau Hoshina today," Amu offers to break the silence. "She gave me a ticket to the Hotori gala."
His eyebrows arch, and he turns to her in a sudden movement. "Utau Hoshina? Do you know why?"
She shrugs, a little uneasily. "Well she's Ikuto's brother, isn't she?"
"And an old family friend of the Hotoris, so she'd certainly have access to an extra invitation if she wanted." Nagihiko tilts his head, the curiosity in his eyes reflected in the dark sky. "Well. You must've impressed her to gain such a thing. She's not exactly the most agreeable person."
Amu swallows. "Here's the thing. I didn't really do anything. She found me, and just barged in. I have no idea why."
"You could come anyway," he says. And the warmth is back, present the way his hand lands on her shoulder. "The Hotori gala is one of the most prestigious events and numerous celebrities are invited."
"You're just saying that so you won't feel guilty if you put my arrangements out of mind and ask Rima to the gala," she teases.
"About that."
There's a pause, and Nagihiko's hand on her tightens as they cross the light. A bike swerves out of their way. Nearly stumbling, Amu fumbles with the paper bag and uncaps her coke. It's still cold, and bubbles as she takes a gulp.
She looks up, sensing the uncertainty in his voice. The reason he called her is coming up now, and she responds with attentive curiosity, a little concern. He doesn't look frustrated, but he is.
"Yeah?" she questions. "Did you fight?"
"Kind of," Nagihiko says. He looks past her into the reflective surface of a large building. "Not really. I said we should stop whatever we had and see other people."
Amu stares at him midway through another bite. "You said what?"
He gestures a little. "I told her I just wanted to know that she cared, and she said nothing. Nothing, Amu. Anything would've been good for me at that point, and she didn't give it to me."
"Rima cares about you," Amu tries, because it's her duty.
Nagihiko crosses his arms. "Try and understand. I care about her too. I just think that this would be the best. Perhaps she'll find someone who she'll truly feel for and then she'll express those emotions for him. We aren't together, technically, but for her and me, this is the end."
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