Blind Sided

-Jasmine-Fields-1979-

I Disclaim: I do not own the copyrights or trademarks of the respective authors, artists, and television programming of any Manga or Anime. Please note, with respect, that the images I use are clipped from open source images discovered on the Internet, with exception to photos pertaining to my own image and any business branding about my employers past and present.

Chapter 13

"What the hell? I'm not interested in someone who only thinks of appearances," Yamato nearly yelled but bit his inner cheek while staring directly ahead to avoid Megumi and her unsolicited advances.

He had not known that Mei was nearby, but he had seen the cameras following each and all of them all day long. Though stressed, university classes were mentally straining his patience. He had hoped to see Mei yesterday during class, but that had not happened. It seemed that Mei was missing for half the day and he had not been made aware of the reason for her unexcused, unexpected absence.

Dear God, he needed a break from being followed all the time around campus, off campus, even down the street with Mei. Yamato felt swirling violence with his thoughts and tampered down the bile in the back of his throat.

Behind the cameras, one of the men – and someone else in the crowd, though he couldn't remember who – snorted then sighed as the drama played out before them.

"Keep the cameras rolling. She's almost in position."

"What's going on?"

"Megu doesn't care if Yamato is committed to Mei."

"Who does she think she is?"

"If he were mine, I'd never let him visit another girl – ever."

"If Mei didn't work at the bakery last night, where was she at then?"

"Seems like communication between them is rather awkward these days."

"You're right. Can it be Megumi is screwing him for real and he's ignoring his girlfriend?"

He seethed. Yamato didn't care much about the gossip or his personal experiences or having to air his humanity on television or in the newspapers, but he absolutely hated that Megumi was blatantly lying and trying to force him apart from Mei. It would never be more than professional courtesy between the management, crew and other models. And what made the situation impossibly stifling was that Megumi's advances were completely unwelcome and growing bolder daily with the cameras impeding his path.

That snickering Cheshire shit-grinning lowlife of a man manipulated the editor into keeping the cameras with everyone today while assigning Mei with tedious book reading – manual scripts to translate. He didn't know what language and didn't care either; her assignments were something only she could do. Yamato encouraged her to make use of her skills.

The crowds, however, were gathering in larger numbers by the day these last several weeks and the rumors were growing more malicious. Script was unbearable and unflattering while Mei had gone missing when he absolutely needed to walk with her and just be – .

That is all he wanted. He wanted to relax and take Mei out for a drink or dinner, karaoke, a Sunday drive. It didn't matter where. Only he wanted off campus. He didn't care that Megumi suggested transferring schools mid-term and bringing him with her. He refused to hover on the outskirts of Mei's thoughts, knowing she hadn't written any of Megumi's actions or words into some dramatic scene so outrageously cruel. Shoving Megumi's arms away from their interlocked position, Yamato decided he would finally meet Kai with the other cameraman instead. Apparently, his requests were not being honored by the management team and damnit he'd do anything with the promise of time alone with Mei.

Anything would be better than the misery he was forced to suffer during sessions with Megumi.

Anything.

And Mei was right, he thought silently: some of those scenes between filming reality and filming for the magazines and show were out of order. On purpose, he learned. He abhorred this job more than foot fungus or watching the build up of gangrene. Yamato was in the middle of an impossible contract that involved many logistical disappointments. Kai and that asshole brother of his said that they would help only Mei though. Nobody else. He was going to talk with all three of them as soon as the day was done.

He wanted to hold her or kiss her – take her hand, but would he be able to breathe around Kai? Those two sounded like they wanted to control the narrative of Mei more than anything and Yamato felt like explanations and apologies were necessary to survive their version and portion of the contract, should he bow out or "re-negotiate the terms and conditions or verbiage of the document to the same".

Yamato wished he had refused Mei's request for information. He would never set foot in a studio to film himself ever again. He was ready to terminate his own position to survive the demands of Bollywood, the industry and his relationship. Creativity wasn't his forte and Mei hated to act; he could see it on her face with managers making demands on her that really weren't in her contract. She was actively refusing to be in the picture but allowed only certain people and cameras to follow her around campus – even to the library while she devoted her time to studies and newly additional responsibilities that stole her away from both the bakery and general university requirements.

His sister explained, one day, after Mei departed his house, that she had stopped by to learn how to bake a specific type of cookie. They had a discussion, he learned, about food poisoning and strange love and nuclear baking during her training at the military academy.

What on earth?

He didn't like living vicariously through his little sister. He had recently only discovered that his sister had been hiding away the messages Mei left on voicemail for him. It pissed him off and after what felt like a semester of living hell without Mei – maybe an eternity, he didn't actually know the time frame – he discovered from Nagi that Mei had apologized after their fight in the park. That had been months ago. He considered himself a patient man up until those particularly delayed omissions came spilling out of his own flesh and blood. Nagi and he yelled for days loudly. He never raised his voice. When she had left his room on the third night of their argument, he fisted both hands into the wall, then tried to call Mei to escape his more heated emotions.

He wanted to play. Make jokes. Enjoy conversation again.

Would they ever gain back their privacy? He wondered. It would never be enough.

~~~oOo~~~