Doorways

The rain was unforgiving that day. April was like that. Traffic jams; umbrellas; assholes and their umbrellas; children in colorful rain boots and an irritable Ryuji. He hated how packed the trains were, especially on rainy days. He was pressed by some stranger and stood body to body with Makoto, who got off at the next stop to transfer. During their time together his arm draped around her waist and he held her close. The train seemed more crowded than usual and she couldn't hold herself up very well. Ryuji held her; the more packed the train, closer they were pressed. With his available arm, he held the railing and held her with the other. He apologized for touching her somewhat suggestively but furrowed his brow when she didn't say anything. She did not seem to hear his apology as she was lost in a world of her own.

After exiting the station, Ryuji stopped by the convenience store. He bought beer and some bananas. He made his way to Lana's apartment and abandoned the gym bag holding his wet clothes on the floor of the entrance. He left the items of his store run on the coffee table and opened a beer for himself. As he walked to her bedroom, sipping his cool alcoholic beverage, he pulled off his newly wet garments and left them in various places. His soaked socks were ditched by the foot of the sofa; his drenched shirt in the hallway; his water-logged pants on the rug of her bedroom floor.

Her apartment always made him feel bad about his own. It was nice – very nice. Wood throughout; Afro-Portuguese paintings on the walls; photos of her world travels. On the nightstand - by her bed - a photo of them. He only realized it was there after he accidentally placed his beer on it, mistakenly thinking it was a coaster. The image, simply a series of burst shots from a photo booth. It wasn't large or framed. It was just laid out there, uncovered; unprotected.

One shot of a kiss.

One shot with their tongues out.

One shot of her pulling his blonde hair.

He ran his fingers through his cropped russet hair. He dyed his hair blonde for so long, that when he stopped he almost didn't recognize himself; but she entreated and he did as she requested. How was that not love? Leaving your wet clothing on the floor because you know she'll forgive you for buying a six-pack and bananas; waking up in bed together most mornings; kisses; breakfast. His toes curled at the way she called his name. "Ryu-kun." She'd say. She'd feed him vegan pancakes, run her fingers through his hair, make him feel like a champ in the bedroom. And she always wanted it.

He was surprised as he understood men as being more interested in sexual relations, but he also heard women peaked at thirty. Lana was older; almost thirty. That counted, or so he thought. He loved how rough she liked it. His hands on her hips and her full and firm buttocks; her mouth on his. Their kisses were suffocating; delirium. He often bought the bananas just to watch her eat them. She knew he enjoyed it, so she'd take her time –

That wasn't it. It wasn't. It just wasn't love.

When did he want love?

Perhaps when seeing those photos of Ann and Michael. Ryuji frequently scrolled through photos on her social media page. While everyone else was shocked, he knew very well she cut her hair; just how lovely the inside of her apartment was; that she and Michael were quite serious. How could he really believe she was in love? She used something like social media to display her relationship. It was superficial and empty and –

"Hey, you. The bath's ready," He turned over from his spot on her bed and saw her standing in the doorway of the en-suite. Her dark, coffee skin exposed; nipples, like Hersey Kisses; her kinky, curly hair dripped with water. He was never short of amazed by her beauty. He even loved her belly's little 'pouch' after they ate too much for dinner. Without wasting time, Ryuji pulled off his wet boxers and met Lana in the doorway with a kiss. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier." She whispered.

"Don't be sorry." He kissed her collarbone and picked her up. With a giggle, Lana wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

"I am. I should never say mean things like that you." Her expression changed. She seemed quite serious.

"It's okay."

"I – I get insecure. Like, you don't want your friends to meet me, because of how I look, or something..."

"No! No, that's not it. That'd never be the case. It's me. I'm the insecure one. I just…I don't want everyone to see how beautiful you are. I'm afraid someone will take you away from me." He kissed her temple. Lana felt her cheeks warm. The two entered the tub together and he held her close to him while they soaked.

"I want to meet the people that are important to you because you're important to me," Lana kissed Ryuji's chin and his lids fell, heavy. As he closed his eyes, he listened to the drip of the faucet, and Lana's talk of the future she wanted for them. In the darkness of his eyelids, he could only see Ann's rosy cheeks and smiling face. His eyes fluttered open and he stared at the white bathroom tile, reminding himself of where he was. "I love you, Ryuji." He could hear Ann's voice – plaguing him in the back of his head. Though he said it back to Lana, it was not Lana whom he wished for it to be said to.

The apartment complex in which the older Niijima sister took residence was worlds away from the high-end apartment of Makoto's high school days. It was quaint – homey. Makoto stood in the kitchen and turned on the gas stove. She enjoyed the 'click' it made before the flames arose beneath the kettle. A pregnant Sae walked in from the living room and kissed her younger sister on the cheek. She made fashion in an old house dress with sporadic holes as she waddled to the dining table and took her time sitting down. She was worlds away from who she used to be as well.

"Thanks for coming over right away."

"Of course. If you need anything..." Makoto turned to her with a smile she struggled to make. Sae couldn't help but smile back, despite how unwell she felt.

"I keep hoping she'll just pop out or something. Like – when I'm sleeping. I don't want to feel anything. Just wake up and there be a baby in a bassinet beside me," She laughed. Makoto giggled and sat down across from her sister observing her apparent exhaustion.

Sae had changed radically over the years. After becoming a defense attorney, she continued to work many long hours but was genuinely happier. She took great pride in her work and showed her sister a new side of herself. When the younger Niijima sister graduated from college, they celebrated by going to Paris for a week. They become 'foodie sisters' and even talked about starting a blog. That summer, they wined and dined at the best restaurants, went dancing in the hippest places, and flirted with attractive French men, who found their Japanese accents 'magnifique.' Before they returned - as a gift into her adulthood - Sae bought her sister an expensive handbag; one that Makoto would carry with her regularly.

"How was seeing everyone?" Sae asked, and began braiding her long hair into a side ponytail. It grew quite long rather quickly due to her pregnancy and reached just above her buttocks.

"It was good. Futaba was her usual quirky self. Yusuke and Ryuji – "To Sae, Makoto seemed to force her words. She could hear the dispassion of her tone; her delivery more like a report than a fond recollection of an overdue reunion.

"How's – well…" Sae began. She knew where her sister's true concerns were. What she really wanted to say. Who she really wanted to say it to.

"Good. He looks good. He cut his hair a bit," Makoto arose from her spot at the table and grabbed mugs from the cabinet. She set them on to the counter and grabbed a couple of tea bags from a canister. "Maybe Haru talked him into cutting it. I know Ryuji stopped dying his hair because of his girlfriend – "The whistle of the kettle blew and Makoto paused. She stopped moving as the hot steam blew from the spout. Her eyes welled with tears. She rubbed them away.

"Are you okay, Makoto? You don't…we don't have to talk about it." Sae said. She noticed Makoto's discomfort and thought it'd be best to change the subject.

"I'm fine." She said in a whisper.

"I know you're stressed between work and studying for the LSAT, but really, take your time," Sae tried to arise from her chair but struggled and sat back down. She rubbed her stomach and sighed. "Is it selfish for me to want you to stay the night?"

"I have work tomorrow," Makoto answered as she placed a cup of tea in front of Sae and headed out the kitchen, knowing Sae couldn't follow quickly. "I gotta get home to study – "

"Why? Why do you want to go to law school in America, of all places?" Sae shouted. She tried again to raise her body from her chair but was far too weak from exhaustion. Her contractions kept her up the previous night, and in addition to her worry for Makoto, she didn't want to be alone. "You're running!"

"I'm not!" Makoto pulled on her trench coat and walked to the doorway to pull on her shoes. She grabbed her umbrella and designer handbag, opened the door, but stopped as tremendous guilt filled her. She was running away. Running, when her sister needed her most. She was confused, frustrated but most of all tired. Tired from late nights of studying, long work hours as a paralegal – and insomnia. She even took sleep aides occasionally.

"Makoto," Sae stood behind her sister. As she spoke there was almost a plea in her voice. "I worry about you." It was certainly difficult, but she made it out the kitchen; she needed – wanted – Makoto to stay.

"Just stop, Sae! I'm not a kid."

"What about us? Me and the baby. If you won't stay for me, at least stay for her."

"Don't do this. Don't say that – "

"You're right. I am guilting you. Stay. For me. I'm doing it, but I'm having a hard time. Really. The other women in the complex give me shit when they see me leaving for work – and I say that I don't care, but really…eight months pregnant and alone. If you go the states to school, who will I have? Who will be here for this little Niijima that only has a mother?" Makoto faced her older sister and took note of the bags under her eyes; how exhausted she looked. It was hard being pregnant alone. They stood to face each other, both overwhelmed by exhaustion, guilt, and frustration. "And I'm worried about you."

"Ann came back." Makoto pulled off her shoes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's engaged." She hung up her coat and walked over to Sae. She touched her stomach, rubbing it in a circular motion.

"She is a nice girl. It was a matter of time."

The two walked over to the sofa and sat down together. Makoto leaned on to Sae's shoulder and felt warm tears filling her eyes. "I – I know this is silly, but I think Akira still has feelings for her." Her voice began to crack. She couldn't explain why she felt such strong emotions. Perhaps she was just too tired to fight it.

"Yeah? Why?"

"Because it's so painfully obvious. When he looked at her," Makoto raised her head from Sae's shoulder and brought her hands to her face. "I saw myself in him. So much." She covered her face and sobbed. Though her precious little sister was in tears, Sae was glad she stayed.

The blinds were open, giving way to sunlight to pour in. The sky was a laundry water blue and the rain of yesterday was no longer a thought to the working people of Shibuya. They seemed like ants from the hotel window. Her suite was filled with roses sent by advertisement companies and designers. Every table had large arrangements. She began to run out of places to put them and was forced to dine in other ways. Ann ate a savory crepe while wearing an oversized sweater and sitting on her California king-sized mattress. She scrolled through her business social media image platform, leaving emojis as replies to endearing comments from her fans.

'Ann-chan kawaii! ^.^' Made her smile quite a bit. She giggled to 'Ann, marry me.'. She had yet to announce her engagement publicly and wondered what her fans would think of Akira – who was not her finance. She stopped eating and stared at her phone as she saw she opened her messaging app to send him a 'good morning' text. She meant to send that to Michael. He would join her in a few weeks for their official engagement party. It was to be a surprise to her business partners, associates, and parents. The plan was to launch her original all-natural makeup line for women and then announce her engagement. It was Michael's brilliant idea – so how in the world did she end up thinking of Akira?

Ann held her fork in her mouth, deep in thought. It wasn't like she ever stopped thinking about him. When she left for New York, it was without telling him. He found out after she had gone. He found out through Ryuji. He found out after they were intimate for the last time. He found out after they talked about moving in together; after they talked about finally telling their friends they were secretly dating again when he moved back to Shibuya.

So many moments occurred before she decided to leave behind the people she loved, take a chance on herself and live out her dreams and ambitions. She was tired of being a 'teen' model and wanted to become an icon that inspired women all over the world. Though Japan was known for its futuristic fashion – it didn't give the platform she needed. She was always seen as beautiful and 'exotic' but brushed over by companies that wanted more Japanese looking models to sell to Japanese women.

She didn't want to leave him behind. She didn't want to go without him. She loved spending days in the attic – just them. She loved petting Morgana until he fell asleep; reading books with Futaba at the counter. She loved talking to Sojiro over coffee. She loved when Akira made her coffee. It was as if he poured his love into every cappuccino. He became exceptionally good at latte art and made her hearts and flowers. She saw herself married to him one day; him greeting her with coffee in the morning and a kiss on her cheek. She had such a thought when she admitted her love for him while they were teenagers. She had such a thought when they secretly dated seriously as college students, and here she was having the thought as someone else's fiancée.

No, she had never stopped thinking about him.

Even after breaking his heart and abandoning him, she never stopped loving him. Ann pushed her plate to the side, got out of bed and stretched while looking down at the people on Central Street. They were all so small. Never did she imagine having such a view, or such a grandiose suite filled with roses from entities desperate to work with her. At twenty-six, she lived out her dream of becoming an international supermodel that inspired girls and women everyone. She lived out all her dreams, but one.

There was a sudden ring to the suite. She headed to the door and without checking, opened it, assuming it was room service. There he stood, with a breaded grin from ear to ear, green eyes that reminded her of the Caribbean Sea, and long dark wavy hair that made her think of the ocean. "Michael – you're," he cut her off with a kiss and pulled her close to him. Ann was forced on her tiptoes as to reach him and overwhelmed by his passion.

"I couldn't wait anymore." He said as they parted. Michael caught Ann off guard a second time; picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and made his way into the suite using his foot to close the door behind him.