Chapter Seven: Soufflé

~Miku~

The clanging of stainless-steel bowls and wooden spoons filled the silence inside an industrial-size kitchen during yet another hot, cloudy summer day. Outside, the summer heat and oppressive humidity quickly drained the energy of the average commuter. Inside, Miku's workstation was not much better. The air was hot from the two large-capacity ovens that had been on since the morning and thick with the scent of powdered sugar and flour.

"So that's two hundred grams of sugar, then one hundred grams of flour, two eggs, two ramekins… what else?" Miku recited the recipe out loud and carefully assembled her ingredients. She was on her third attempt, and her brow was slick with sweat from working on the same recipe all day with Nino looking over her shoulder.

She recited each step, delicately brushing the inside of a pair of ramekins with melted butter, being extra careful to get the whole wall, then dusting the interior with sweetened cocoa powder.

Step one, Check.

Next, Miku melted butter on low heat, whisking the flour in slowly until the butter fully liquified, and both ingredients were mixed into a brownish slush inside the small saucepan. When the texture was just right, she gently added the cold milk.

"The milk must be cold slowly to avoid lumps in your roux," she remembered Nino telling her once during her many scolding sessions.

Step two. Check.

Miku gently stirred the newly formed béchamel sauce, hoping it was the right consistency. Next was the chocolate. Wait, Where was the chocolate?

She scanned the long marble table of ingredients, finally spotting it on the far end of her workstation. Miku stretched over the table, inching herself closer with her fingertips. Just beyond her reach.

Nino noticed her struggling from across the table and lightly pushed the chocolate closer.

"Thanks, Nino," Miku said, standing upright.

Nino stifled a laugh.

"What's the matter?" Miku asked.

"Your apron."

Miku glanced down. She had forgotten that Nino had liberally dusted their workstation with flour from a pasta prep earlier in the day. The flour had matted together perfectly to the contours of her midsection, all the way down her apron.

"It's a good look on you, Miku," Nino teased. "You know? They say you should dust your entire work surface with flour before baking, but I think you're taking it too far."

Miku stared, deadpan. "Shut up."

"This isn't even the first time it's happened to you!" Can you relax? If you keep sweating like that, some of it will get in your roux and ruin the whole thing."

"You're one to talk! You only got this recipe right once!"

"That's because I only needed one time," Nino bragged.

"The instructor said it had no flavor!"

Nino rolled her eyes. "It's a soufflé! It's mostly air anyway. Air doesn't have flavor."

Miku shot her sister a dirty look. She loved her sister, but it was times like these she wished she was kneading dough instead. Miku knew exactly whose face she'd imagine squishing into the dough.

"It's fine," Nino said. "A year ago, I wouldn't even think of leaving you alone with an open flame, let alone making a soufflé. You've improved so quickly!" She joined Miku's side of the prep aisle. "Here, I'll help you separate the egg whites for the meringue. It's useful to start the beating process by hand before moving on to the mixer. You get more control that way."

Miku thanked her sister and returned to melt the dark chocolate in a double boiler gently. After graduating, Miku and Nino scrambled together to apply to Daiichi Nagoya School of Culinary Arts. Between their studies and their jobs at their respective cafes, their lives felt like it was moving at a breakneck pace. Their program often demanded they work in teams. Miku would have gotten a different partner, but during their opening skills drill practice, Miku added too much alcohol to a flambé, causing the sprinklers to go off and ruining everyone's creations. She'd been permanently partnered with Nino ever since. Miku didn't particularly mind that. Sure, she and her sister bickered—sometimes daily, but Miku had to admit that she understood Nino better these days than the year before. She hoped Nino felt the same way.

Step... Three? Yeah, three. Check.

As Miku added the rich béchamel sauce to the chocolate, she watched her sister crack eggs and separate the whites from the yolk with agility and precision. First, she poured the whites into a large steel mixing bowl and passed the cracked shell containing the orangey-yellow yolk to Miku for the chocolate. Miku turned off the heat of the water boiler and gently mixed in the yolk with the chocolate, letting the soft heat meld the flavors together.

Step four, check.

"Miku, want me to help you make the meringue?" Nino said, peeking over her shoulder.

"Sure. Can I watch you? My meringue came out too grainy the last time."

"That's because you added sugar too quickly. You have to mix it all properly. Also, you forgot the creme of tartar," Nino chided. "But, it wasn't a bad try."

Miku found it funny how used to Nino's prickly personality she'd become. It almost like she's—

"You're over mixing that," Nino interrupted.

Miku cursed, noticing the fat separating unevenly in her mixture. "I guess the water boiler was too hot?"

Nino nodded, setting her meringue bowl under the stand mixer. "I'll redo the sauce. You baby this meringue. Make sure the peaks are stiff but not clumped."

Miku's shoulder sank. Nino rubbed Miku's back briefly before speeding off to the walk-in refrigerator, which was always wonderfully stocked with everything an aspiring chef or baker could need.

Miku counted out loud, stopping the mixer just as she got to twenty. She tested the meringue by flipping the beater.

Perfectly stiff peaks. She thought, admiring the result.

Nino made quick work of melting the butter and redoing the roux. Miku grabbed the spare chocolate and melted it over an improvised double boiler with a glass bowl and a saucepan. They had a perfectly blended mix of béchamel and melted chocolate for a few minutes.

"Okay, let's add the meringue," Nino said, grabbing the bowl off the stand mixer.

Nino added just a bit and instructed Miku to soften the chocolate mixture with the meringue.

"Now we'll add the rest, but instead of mixing like how you did with the first third, we're going to—"

"Fold it. Right?" Miku finished her sentence. "We'll fold from the bottom to avoid deflating the meringue."

"R-right. That's right."

Miku carefully folded the mixture together, eventually resulting in a homogenous light brown blend ready to be poured into the ramekins.

"Hey, look Nino! I think we—" Miku's eyes widened in shock. Nino had fingered a bit of leftover meringue from the side of the bowl and put it into Miku's mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"Does it have flavor this time?" Nino asked a little impatiently.

Miku tasted the fluffy sweet texture of the meringue. "It's good. Nice and smooth. But next time, put your finger in your own mouth."

"I just needed to test it. And I trust your judgment. It has to be perfect," Nino replied, looking a little relieved and perhaps a little flustered. "Miku, stop. That looks ready," she said, gabbing the metal tray with the ramekins. Together they slowly filled the containers, carefully distributing their batter evenly.

"That looks super pretty, Miku! Great job!" Nino clapped her hands. "I'm excited to see how it comes out."

Miku smiled, admiring their work. She dusted off her blouse and wiped the sweat from her brow. "please work," she prayed and inserted the tray into one of the large industrial ovens. She paced back and forth in the kitchen, occasionally peeking through the open window. Nino reclined on her seat, crossing her legs and scrolling mindlessly on her phone.

"Did you hear that Ichika wants to go back to school?" Miku said, trying to fill the silence. "Itsuki told me."

"How is she going to do that? She works full time," Nino said, not looking up from her phone.

Miku eyed the timer. "I don't know. I guess some schools are willing to work with actresses," She shrugged.

"Like an acting school?"

"Yeah, maybe. She didn't say if that's what it was," Miku said, trying not to be put off by Nino's bored tone. "Destiny is kind of funny, isn't it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at us. We all sort of went our separate ways. Futaro and Ichika ran off to Tokyo—not together, I mean. Itsuki's doing her teaching program. We're here, and Yotsuba has been making the local papers in Osaka as a rising—oh."

Miku froze, realizing her mistake.

"It's okay. We can talk about it," Nino sighed, relaxing her expression. "Everyone in the house heard what I said to Yotsuba the other night anyways."

"I wasn't going to bring it up, Nino. Are you okay?"

Nino placed her phone face down on their stainless steel workstation. "I don't know why I lost my temper the other night."

"Are you worried about Futaro too?" Miku guessed, taking the seat next to her sister.

"Of course! This is all so sad. His birthday came and went, and nobody did anything special. Yotsuba was busy with school and whatever else. Ichika was still shooting here, and we haven't had a day off in ages. And you know how he is! He's always so neglectful of everything. I bet he's not even eating right. Checking on him is something Yotsuba should be doing."

"You think she isn't?"

Nino lowered her head to the table. "I guess, maybe. I don't know. I just don't agree with how they did things. He doesn't sound happy when I talk to him. If Fuu-kun were with me, I would do anything to make him feel better."

"Nino," Miku stroked her sister's back. "I know how you feel, but you have to stop. You have to make up with Yotsuba."

"I didn't start that phone argument! She did!"

"So? What's the point?"

"I was trying to give her a wake-up call," Nino said, softening her tone. "That Takebayashi girl— I don't like how she looked at Fuu-kun that one time at the festival. She's trouble, and if Yotsuba doesn't do something, who knows what'll happen. I read in Seventeen that nearly 40% of long-distance relationships end. Did you hear that, Miku? Forty Percent! And I guess I'm worried that this childhood friend thinks she's just going to sweep in and live out her lame rom-com manga fantasy with Fuu-kun."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Miku waved her hands out. "I thought you were upset with Yotsuba because she is dating, Futaro."

Nino's teeth clenched. "I was. I mean," she paused. "I am. It still hurts to think about. But that's not what's most important. I just want Yotsuba to take care of what she has. I'm not mad at her. I think I'm madder at Fuu-kun. He's just so meek! Why didn't he try to convince Yotsuba to go with him to Tokyo? Why was he okay with just letting Takebayashi into his life like that? Why can't he just answer things directly?" She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. " They're both stupid!" Nino stopped to collect her thoughts. "I didn't mean what I said to Yotsuba the other day. There. Is that what you want me to say?"

"I wasn't expecting you to say anything," Miku rubbed the back of her sister's hand. She wasn't used to her sister being on the defensive, but it was time for Miku to attack. "You and Yotsuba need to get on the same page. You're right, Futaro is lonely, and he hasn't had it easy lately. Maybe he'd feel better seeing a few friendly faces," Miku suggested.

Miku wished she was better at comforting her sister's feelings. She had watched Nino quietly stomach her anger and frustration for months, but now that she was here, she wasn't sure what to say. "Maybe we should try to help them, Yotsuba and Futaro. I don't think you actually want them to break up. Right?"

Nino locked eyes with Miku. It was an intense kind of stare used to make her fall apart sometimes.

Ding!

The oven went off, signaling that their soufflés were done.

Nino broke eye contact first, "I don't think I want to talk about that right now."

Nino leaped off the chair and circled their workstation. Together they slowly opened the latch and extracted the tray revealing a pair of evenly risen, perfectly circular, wonderfully fluffy chocolate soufflés. The soft vaporous aroma of chocolate and sugar-filled their nostrils.

They both inhaled and sighed with deep satisfaction.

"Oh my god! They're perfect!" Miku said.

"Shush, you'll deflate them!" Nino warned.

"That's just a myth!"

Nino patted Miku on her shoulder, her mood appearing to have turned around almost entirely. "You did it! Let's taste them. Go get the spoons," Nino reached for the fine sieve mesh and light coated powdered sugar atop the fluffy chocolatey dessert.

Miku walked across the kitchen to collect the spoons and offered one to Nino. They clinked their spoons and dug into the airy, fluffy pastry. The taste was subtle and sweet, with tones of perfectly browned butter and bitter chocolate.

"It's so yummy," they hummed in unison, with sparkles in their eyes. Miku was surprised at how nicely the soufflés had come out. They had given her trouble all week. With Nino's help, she was eating something edible and not just something Itsuki would try her best to tolerate.

"Yeah, Miku, you'll do great in tomorrow's test!"

"What do you mean? Are you not doing it?"Miku asked, gently scooping out more of the soufflé and eating it.

Nino licked her spoon clean. "I'm thinking of focusing more on learning how to be a chef instead of just a baker. Don't get me wrong. I love working at the bakery. It just doesn't have the same spark it used to have. Also, Fuu-kun's replacement is a total meathead and entirely useless."

"Nino, you like meatheads."

Nino scoffed in disbelief. "Why does everyone say that?"

"We've all seen the magazines you leave all over the living room."

"Anyway!" Nino said, turning a scarlet red. "I was trying to say that I don't want to half-ass this. I want to become a better cook overall. You can handle the soufflés."

Miku felt a little pang in her chest. She always saw Nino as her rival, but if she were to switch from baking to cooking, they might not work together as much. But it wouldn't be fair to bring her feelings into a decision that Nino wanted to do. Even so, Miku still felt a little bit like a hypocrite. "I'll support you," Miku gave her a thumbs up. "Oh!"

"What?"

"There's five of us, Nino!"

"Yes?" Nino frowned. Not understanding what her sister was getting at.

Miku pulled out her phone and took a picture of Nino, who had a mouthful of soufflé.

"H-hey!" Nino protested, but Miku didn't hear her.

[Miku] (sent at 11:49 a.m) "Hey Ichika! Long time no talk. Look at this, Nino and I made soufflés!"

[Ichika] (sent at 11:55 a.m) "Hi Miku, good timing! I just finished shooting today. I hate how hot and sticky it is outside. I still have so much more to do. Wow! Nino is going to town with that soufflé. Someone should have told me we weren't counting calories this week. jk."

[Miku] (sent at 11:56 a.m) "We count calories? How was settling into Tokyo?"

[Miku] (sent at 11:56 a.m) "How was settling into Tokyo?"

[Ichika] (sent at 11:58 a.m) "It's been mostly okay. Finding an apartment was easy with dad's agent's help. Sometimes I'm still surprised by how much influence dad has. I'll admit, it's kind of convenient!"

[Miku] (sent at 11:58 a.m) "Did dad make it awkward?

[Ichika] (sent at 11:59 a.m) "So awkward. But it was okay."

[Miku] (sent at 12:00 p.m) " I see. Speaking of help, we have a problem that we need your help with?"

[Ichika] (sent at 12:02 p.m) "Hmm? What is it? Before you ask, I haven't met anyone super famous yet, so If Nino or Itsuki are thinking about asking about autographs, I can't help out yet."

[Miku] (sent at 12:05p.m) "no. eww. That's not what I wanted to ask."

[Miku] (sent at 12:05 p.m) "We have a Futaro problem."

Miku felt slightly embarrassed that it took her as long as it did to remember that she had more siblings. They had all gotten so busy that they could rarely even have a family dinner together, much to Nino's disappointment. She had taken to badgering Miku and the others to sit and have more dinners with dad, ironically, now that dad was trying to be slightly more available, they had all become much busier. Nino had proved that family was something you could trust. Now it was Miku's turn to support her prickly older sister, but it was often difficult to know what to say. Once or twice, she had caught Nino staring at Futaro and Yotsuba sharing a crepe whenever Yotsuba visited the bakery. And when Futaro came for Yotsuba in his manager's motorcycle, Miku could sense how it ate away at Nino. Like an unattended pot, it was inevitable that she'd boil over eventually. Miku had even tried to reassure her once or twice to little success. She was the first to console her on the last day of the festival too. Though if Miku were being honest with herself, she just didn't want to be alone at that moment.

Despite all of that, Miku could still find a reason to smile. She was glad that Futaro was still a part of her life. He had become family to her, and each memory they had made in high school reminded Miku of the wonderful family they'd all become. Miku had read the writing on the wall long ago—all the way back in Kyoto, as a matter of fact. She was never going to be Futaro's first choice. But that was okay. She'd made her peace—at least she was sure she had.

Glancing up from her phone, Miku watched Nino scrape all remaining vestiges of chocolate from the sides of the ramekin with her finger and ate it with a childish giggle.

Time for revenge. Miku smirked.

"Nino, Ichika asked if you were still counting calories," she asked with a sly grin.

~Ichika~

Rain.

Ichika cursed the heavens, the gods, and everything else that made Japan's awful, hot, sticky, muggy rainy season. Summer in Japan had this terrible old joke where typhoon season would always start right when the temperature was highest. So not only was it blisteringly hot, but it was also suffocatingly humid. The entire week had called for rain, and phones buzzing with flash flood warnings on the train had become commonplace. Futaro took Ichika by the hand and led them through a side street, eventually seeking refuge underneath an awning of a family restaurant. The dull white noise of the rain muted her thoughts.

"Great! Just great," he sighed in frustration. They were only caught out for a moment, but their clothes were already damp and sticking to their skin in some areas. Ichika pulled out a small hand mirror from her purse, which she used to inspect her face, carefully blotting the moisture off with a handkerchief being especially careful not to damage her make-up. She tilted her mirror to catch Futaro in its reflection. His hair had gotten quite long since the last time she had seen him. It was a look she was unprepared for. It gave him a bit of an aura of a delinquent dressed in a nice dark brown t-shirt, open creme toned button down. He definitely had the aura of a Tokyo University student. His hair and his clothes made him look so much older, accentuating his already sharp features and making his mean-looking eyes even more serious and broody. Ichika had to admit to herself that she found his vaguely intimidating aura attractive.

Wow, maybe I'm more like Nino than I thought.

"Ichika?" He asked, a bit confused by her silence.

"Oh," Ichika forced a laugh, playfully fanning herself. "The weather was so nice earlier too."

"What now? We can't go to the park in this weather," Futaro threw his hands up in exasperation. "Sorry for wasting your day off."

"Futaro-kun, relax!" Ichika pulled her hair to the side. "I invited you, remember. I was going to spend my time with you anyways."

"But I— "

"Stop being so gloomy. What are you, some tortured artist or something?" She teased. "I'm happy you made time for me today."

Futaro scratched his chin, avoiding her gaze. "If you say so."

Ichika noticed the soft rosy tint on his cheeks. His reactions was one of those simple pleasures that she always looked forward to during their time together. Whatever it took to bring his guard down. "Futaro-kun, you worry too much," she smiled. "Big Sis is having a good time. And this is a nice change of pace too. It's a good break from my not-so-glamorous Tokyo debut."

Futaro sighed and turned his attention to some highly detailed, glossy fake food on display. "Well, since we're here, want to have lunch?" He gestured to a family restaurant's window. "It's nothing nice but…."

"Who do you take me for?" Ichika winked. "I'm the super low maintenance older sister remember? Come! Let's grab a seat," she took Futaro by the hand, pulling him inside.

The restaurant was the usual chain affair with incredibly gaudy-looking red, green, and white decorum that was supposed to hint at its slightly Italian-themed menu. It came complete with uneven light fixtures, fake renaissance motifs, and unnecessary romanesque arches in the dining area. A cheerful high school-aged girl calmly bounced over to greet them. "Welcome to Saizeriya! Will that be a table for two?"

"Yes," Futaro said. "Non-smoking, please."

The waitress guided them to a window-side booth and invited them to sit down.

"Shall I bring you something to drink?"

"Two coffees, please. Black," Futaro said. The girl took his order hurriedly.

Ichika sensed the girl's was suddenly on edge because of Futaro's sharp tone. "Sugar and cream for me, please," Ichika added with a friendly smile. She handed them their menus and briefly explained the specials. When the waitress left, Ichika turned to Futaro.

"You know, just because you live in Tokyo now, that doesn't mean you have to be so cold like the locals are," she kindly scolded him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that you're— actually, never mind. You've always been a bit of a caveman. Maybe Tokyo does suit you. But try to be mindful of not scare people away. Especially with all this," she gestured to Futaro's general appearance.

Futaro tugged at his clothes. "what's wrong with my clothes?"

Ichika laughed. "It's not the clothes, your expression, Futaro-kun. You have mean eyes, and you could do with some lessons on how to smile."

"What? I know how to smile," Futaro said indignantly.

Their waitress returned with a tray containing two cups and a large stainless steel coffee tumbler. Setting the two cups in front of them, their waitress carefully tipped over the tumbler filling their cups with piping hot black liquid. She put the tumbler on the table alongside a small circular sugar container, and an equally small glass pour bottle with cream. As she excused herself, Futaro attempted a half-hearted smile, making him look more like he was thinking something dirty than trying to be friendly.

Ichika snorted, "yeah, you need lessons."

Futaro ignored her, choosing instead to sip on his coffee gingerly.

Ichika raised an eyebrow. "Oho? Do you drink coffee now? And black? When did that change?"

"I guess I've gotten used to the taste over time. You still like coffee, right?"

She nodded quietly, plopping spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee, followed by a splash of creamer until the pitch-black liquid was a light brown mocha. She took a sip and scrunched her face. "Ah, but it's not the best."

Futaro nodded with a playful smirk.

You've changed in such a short amount of time, Futaro-kun. Her mind wandered.

Sure, it wasn't just that he was dressing a little bit better these days. It was also that he looked more adult. He sat a little straighter and talked a little confidently. He didn't panic as much at her relentless teasing, and he answered more honestly and carefully.

To her, Futaro had become an almost entirely new person. But there was one thing that was still uniquely Futaro's. The bags of exhaustion under his eyes.

"You mentioned that your Tokyo debut didn't go well?" Futaro asked suddenly. "Want to tell me what happened?"

"Oh, It's just," Ichika was unsure where to begin. "Moving here was crazy, even with the studio's help. I should be grateful. I've been meeting so many important people, and I swear I've forgotten most of their names already. I've been setting aside time just to memorize people's names!" Ichika laughed. "I wasn't kidding about people being meaner here. Soooo many snobs! I don't know how you put up with it."

Futaro nodded along, listening to her every word. "I noticed that too. I made worst enemies with a barista."

"A… barista?" Ichika asked, confused.

"Oh, it's a story for another time," Futaro waved his hand nonchalantly.

Ichika noticed the waitress skip over. "How is the coffee?"

Ichika took a polite sip, tightening her lips to avoid making a gross face. She glanced at Futaro, reacting in the most Futaro-kun way possible. His face contorted into an ugly grimace.

"Is this fresh?" He asked.

"Umm," the waitress hesitated. "I think so?"

Ichika gave Futaro a knowing look. "I think what he meant to ask was if there was any chance we could get some water too? I think we're thirstier than we realized," Ichika turned on the charm to eleven.

"Right away, miss," their waitress smiled softly and quickly returned with a pair of tall glasses of water. "Excuse me, but you're Nakano, Ichika?" She asked with a slight twinkle in her eyes.

Ichika stiffed up. She wasn't wearing her usual disguise, and she honestly didn't think she'd need it in Tokyo, of all places. She respected her status as local talent in Nagoya, but Tokyo was different. It was Tokyo, after all. Even her Twitter and Instagram were still sub 5000 followers. Dammit, she cursed.

"Ah, yes," she hesitated, trying to save face. "But please don't say it too loud," She winked at the waitress and raised her finger to her lips.

"I knew it! I wasn't too sure, but I just had to ask," the girl asked breathlessly. "I just wanted to say that I love campy horror movies, and that zombie indie flick you were cast in a few years ago was sooooo good! It's a shame they killed you off so quickly. I was pleasantly surprised at how good you were because I first saw you in that energy drink commercial?" The waitress posed and pointed to the dimples on her cheeks. "'I'll give you an unforgettable summer,' that one, you know?"

Oh god, please kill me, Ichika cringed.

"Anyway," the waitress continued, utterly oblivious to the look on Ichika's face. "I thought you would just be typecasted as some lame horror movie bimbo. You know, because of your knockers? Those girls are just eye candy for marketing, and they're always killed off as soon as the movie starts. I'm happy you weren't."

Ichika felt her jaw clench up. Resisting the urge to sigh loudly, Ichika set her coffee cup down. "Why thank you," she said, making eye contact with the girl.

Ichika felt Futaro reach out and touch her arm. The sudden contact made her jump in her seat.

"I decided I'm not going to order anything. If you're not going to order anything either, why don't we just give her back the menus?" He said a matter of factly.

"Oh, right," Ichika offered a thin smile, feeling slightly relieved that he took the conversation in a different direction.

The waitress took the menus and looked to Ichika, to Futaro, then back to Ichika again. "Oh! I'm sorry!" She covered her mouth with the menus.

"I didn't realize you were on a date, Nakano-senpai!"

A terrible idea came over Ichika, she grinned with anticipation. "Oh no, nothing like that."

She reached out and raked her hand through Futaro's still wet hair, giving it a subtle unruly look.

"He's a co-actor in the current movie we're working on. I promise it's not another zombie movie. I'm just showing my junior the way around town, and we got caught in this awful rain. Isn't that right, Futaro-kun?"

Futaro made eye contact with her. He furrowed his brows but otherwise did not protest.

"Oh, is he an actor too? I should have known. All actors hang out together," the waitress eyed Futaro in an entirely different manner. She licked her lips.

"Futaro-senpai, was it? I kinda like your whole vibe. Are you some kinda method actor?" Ichika watched the waitress turn on the charm, squeezing his forearms playfully. Futaro was staring at the waitress as if she were a fish that decided to walk upright. The waitress wrote something down on her notepad and handed it to Futaro.

Did she just give him her number, right in front of me? Girls these days!

Shocked at the waitress's brazenness, Ichika stood up and swiped the paper out of his hand. "Ah, sorry, we're not allowed to take random contact information. The director tries hard to be cautious about avoiding leaks. Hope you understand, miss waitress," She locked eyes with the young woman.

Come on! Let's not make this a big deal! Ichika screamed in her head.

After what felt like several minutes, the waitress sucked her teeth and walked away. No doubt there was going some awful tweet about her, but Ichika didn't care.

"Hey Futaro," she said, not taking her eyes off the waitress. Her long brown hair swayed back and forth with each step. "The coffee here sucks. Why don't we go to another place? With much better coffee."

Futaro's eyebrows rose to his bangs. "Isn't that a waste?"

"Are you complaining about 300 yen? I'll pay it. Let's just get out of here."

Futaro looked over his shoulder to the waitress, then looked back at Ichika. She probably had her dislike painted all over her face because Futaro quickly nodded and began shifting out of the booth.

They paid for the coffee and stepped outside, briefly considering braving the storm.

"So, I guess we can just reschedule," Futaro said lamely.

Ichika shook her head. "Trust me! I have much better coffee. If you're going to be a true coffee connoisseur, you need to experience the best of the best. I promise it'll be worth your time."

"Alright, alright. Where do you have in mind?"

Ichika tapped on her phone, and a minute later, a nondescript silver sedan pulled up to the restaurant's front entrance. Futaro eyed Ichika with uncertainty.

"What? Haven't you heard of Uber?" She asked. "Come on!"

She pulled Futaro along, ignoring his complaints. The driver greeted them warmly and asked them where they were heading.

"Yoyogi, please. West of the New National Theater," Ichika instructed the driver, who nodded in confirmation. It was the closest she should get to her apartment without giving him an exact address. The first lesson they taught you in Being A Public Figure 101 was to try your best to protect your precise address. It was so easy for a celebrity's private information to get leaked to the public in the digital age. In fact, it was so easy that her agent had discouraged her from sharing photos of places she'd eaten at while she was still there on her social media.

The relatively quiet suburban Tokyo surroundings had given way to skyscrapers and government buildings within a few minutes.

"Ah, here is fine," Ichika said, and their driver pulled over near an overhead awning near the Park Hyatt Hotel.

"This kind of reminds me of the ward where the family I work for lives," Futaro said, craning his neck up at the skyscrapers flanking them. "The Koda's, remember? Aoyama is just a few blocks from here."

"You mean you work for a family that can afford a loft in Aoyama?" Ichika said in surprise. "Must be some family."

But Futaro wasn't paying attention. He watched the ticker on the seat between them go up. She could tell what he was thinking.

"Ichika, this is expensive—" Futaro started. But she held her hand in front of his face.

She handed the Uber driver a jet black credit card that she'd been allowed to use while they were recording in Tokyo.

"Let's call it a business expense."

He eyed the card uncomfortably but otherwise accepted. Together they darted in between dry spots on the sidewalk, being careful not to get too close to the side of the road where cars splashed water as they drove past—eventually arriving at a modest apartment tower, or at least modest by the standards of the neighboring skyscrapers of the Shinjuku shopping center. Ichika was nervous about what Futaro would think of her home. He has always been such a practical guy, and over-the-top lifestyles would probably be uncomfortable in settings like this. Entering the lobby, Ichika was suddenly aware of just how similar to a hotel her home looked. Ichika dared to glance at Futaro, who wordlessly eyed the large crystal chandelier high above the ceiling.

"This way is the elevator," she tugged at his sleeve, hastily rushing him through the lobby before he had a chance to notice the massive indoor koi fish pond. Entering the elevator, it quickly rose to her floor in a matter of seconds. Ichika guided Futaro to the entrance of her apartment just a few doors down the hallway.

Ichika paused, turning to Futaro." I've been kind of busy," she cautioned him. "Please don't be rude."

"Ah, so it's a sty?"

"I can leave you outside in the rain if you'd prefer."

He held his hands up," Sorry."

Now that Ichika was here, a new feeling had overcome her: excitement. She couldn't wait to see the look on Futaro's face when he saw her place. Her apartment was tidy. She made sure of it. Three days ago, she had asked the producers to set her up with a maid to help start her off. After learning about the state of her previous apartment, it wasn't that difficult to convince her producers that she needed regular assistance cleaning her apartment. If fact, the producers insisted on the maid coming over once a week.

An injury risk! She remembered they called it—the nerve.

"Wow," she heard Futaro say quietly.

"Do you like it?" She smiled impishly.

"Hmm. I can see the floor. But you still have too many shoes," Futaro jerked his head to the neatly organized black women's shoes inside a bamboo shoe cupboard.

"Ha. Ha. You are sooo funny," Ichika mocked. "And they're not shoes. They're flats," She walked passed Futaro, inviting him into her home. "Come in! Tell me what you think?"

Futaro eyed the matching couch and low living room table, complimenting the apartment's sleek contemporary angles that seemed to come out of some home design magazine.

"Look at this!" she gestured to a massive flat screen tv hung up on the wall.

"What do you think?"

"Is a tv that big really necessary?" he rested his hands on his hips.

"You have to get the best materials to study with, right? I study film," she grinned.

Futaro rolled his eyes and walked to her balcony sliding door, admiring the stormy sky peppering the sprawling grey city with rain.

"I never get tired of views like this," he mused. "How much is this place again?"

Ichika wondered if she had made Futaro uncomfortable. "Oh, the producers subsidized the apartment," she quickly explained. "I wouldn't be able to afford a place like this on my own— and dad helped a lot."

"It's a very nice apartment, Ichika," he said with a simple smile. "You've finally made it. You're living like a real actress now."

Ichika blinked, feeling disarmed by his compliment. She had mentally prepared herself to explain her lifestyle to him. In her line of work, being judged was just the name of the game, and she felt equipped to handle it. But he did none of that. He accepted her, leaving her feeling more exposed than any director ever could. "S-serves your right doubting me. But t-thank you for all your help last year. I wouldn't have made it without you," she said, suddenly struggling to speak. "W-what about the view from your apartment?" She said, brushing away her embarrassment. "It must be nice considering that your campus is nearby."

"My apartment isn't anywhere as nice. I have a window, but it opens straight into the wall of another building."

Ichika had gotten a small taste of that life when she and her sisters moved out the year before. She had been unprepared for the stress and exhaustion of trying to keep up an apartment by herself. These days, Ichika had her producers to rely on, not to mention their nearly endless connections because of her dad. Even when she and her sisters lived with their mom, Ichika never had to think about where their next meal would come from or how they were going to pay rent. Ichika always assumed that their mom simply would do it. Futaro, on the one the other hand, had to make it to Tokyo all alone without any support.

She walked over to him and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, so how about that coffee?"

He nodded and joined her in the kitchen.

She pulled out a mason jar half full of whole black coffee beans imported from abroad. Popping the mason jar seal, she took in the beans' complex, earthy scent. "Here, Futaro-kun, smell," she held the jar under his nose.

He inhaled carefully before taking in a deep breath and a relaxed look formed on his face.

"Doesn't the smell alone just give you goosebumps?!" She said gleefully. "It'll be the best cup of coffee you've ever had."

She turned to the cabinet door, reaching inside for the coffee grinder and a simple pour-over glass. Ichika stretched on the tips of her toes, struggling to support herself with one hand, straining to reach the coffee grinder that was just beyond her fingertips. Extending herself a bit more, she knocked the grinder over, and it rolled to the back of her cabinet. Ichika exhaled, cursing under her breath.

"Here," Futaro said, towering over her. He effortlessly reached into the cabinet and extracted the coffee grinder and the pour-over glass.

Ichika's brain felt fuzzy, and without meaning to, she leaned in and inhaled. Somehow Futaro's scent reminded her of home. She flushed a deep scarlet and forgot how to breathe.

Too close. She reminded herself.

"Is this all you need?"

Ichika cleared her throat. "Yes, thank you, Futaro-kun."

She occupied her mind making the coffee. First, she measured out the correct amount of beans for two cups, being careful not to add a single bean more. She inserted the beans into the coffee grinder and spun the machine to life. She meticulously measured the water and boiled it to the exact recommended temperature. The trick was to bring the water to a boil, but not too much. Otherwise, she'd risk burning the grind.

This is going to be the best cup of coffee Futaro-kuns ever had. She smiled.

She stretched a thin fabric filter over the funnel to suspend the grind over the glass pot. She felt Futaro's eyes on her as she slowly tipped the kettle, pouring steaming water over the grind, allowing it to bloom naturally. With a steady hand, she made tiny spiraling motions towards the center, stopping to let the coffee drip every fifteen seconds, just like Nino had taught her. Slowly the glass pot fogged and filled with wonderfully dark, fragrant liquid that wafted throughout the kitchen. Lastly poured the fresh coffee into a pair of yellow ceramic mugs, handing one to Futaro.

"What's so interesting?" She asked, coyly noticing how intently he watched her.

"Making coffee looks kind of complicated."

"It's nothing special. I can teach you one day if you'd like."

"I'd like that. My local barista always looks about one bad day from tossing me out just for sneezing. So, I guess this will be a useful skill to have," He sipped carefully, pausing to appreciate the aroma.

Ichika smiled, grateful that Futaro was taking this as seriously as she was. She took a gentle sip of the coffee as well. The bitter tones blended nicely with the nuttiness resulting from her meticulous brewing, and the rich chocolaty tones rose to the surface, wonderfully combining complex floral notes and a delightfully smooth finish.

Atta girl! She complimented herself.

"Perfect for a rainy day, Right?" she said. "I noticed you don't make an ugly face when you drink coffee anymore."

He shot a soft scowl at her. "I guess it is the only way to get rid of the bags under my eyes."

Ichika bumped his shoulder. "I'm starting to think that nothing in the world is strong enough to remove those bags."

"Maybe you're right!" Futaro laughed.

The fruits of all her labor were simple. Ichika and Futaro took their coffee cups and strolled to her living room. They stood in silence, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain against the balcony window.

"I told you it would be a damn good cup of coffee."

"The beginning of my life as an expert connoisseur," Futaro chuckled. "Hey, I noticed something else in your cabinet," he wandered back to her kitchen, reaching inside her cabinet and extracting a large bottle with a thin neck. "What's this?" He held out the bottle, somehow, it was already dusty.

Ichika eyed it for a moment. Then it hit her. "Oh! That was a housewarming gift from my producer when I first moved in."

"What is it?"

"I… don't know. What's the label say?"

Futaro flipped the bottle and wiped some dust from the cover. "I don't think I can read it."

"Aren't you supposed to be good at English?"

"This isn't English. I think it's French."

"Ugh. Where's Nino when you need her. She'd know what it is," Ichika threw her hands up.

Futaro set the bottle down on the marble bar. "Would Nino be able to read it? When did she pick up French?"

"Well, no," Ichika followed Futaro to the kitchen. "But she likes stuff like this, and she went through this weird Moulin Rouge phase when we were younger."

"What's Moulin Rouge?

"A movie… And a lifestyle."

Futaro crossed his arms. "Why do I feel like you're not explaining things properly?"

Ichika chuckled awkwardly and snatched the bottle off the kitchen bar, swirling the contents inside. "Futaro-kun, lets try it."

Futaro eyed her as if she had gone insane. "You don't even know what it is!"

"There's only one way to find out. Come on! Where's your sense of adventure?" She waved the bottle in front of his face.

Futaro leaned back. "I don't know about this, Ichika."

"What?" She pressed. "Come on, Futaro-kun. How often do we get the chance to hang out like this? I know for a fact that you could use some loosening up."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what I meant it to mean," she pouted. Ichika spun around and pulled the bottle next to her face while flashing a playful peace sign. "Come on, Futaro-kun! I'll give you an unforgettable summer!" She said in her most saccharine Tamako-chan voice.

"I—I can't believe you just did that," he erupted into laughter. "Better than the waitress from earlier."

"She was merely an imitation," Ichika felt her face grow hot.

"Alright, fine. Let's open it! Hurry before I change my mind. You get the cups."

"Yay!" She cheered, handing over bottle and gathering two glass cups. She joined Futaro in the living room, who had already figured out how to pry off the cork.

"Oho Futaro-kun?! Not your first time?"

"No? It wasn't that hard to take off," She watched him pour the deep red contents into their glass cups. Her eyes went wide. "Wine?"

He poured a lot.

Futaro picked up the glass cup and inspected it. He scrunched his nose at the scent wafting from the cup. "Your producer knows you're underage, right?"

"Yeah, maybe he made a mistake and only meant to gift me cider."

"Well, we already opened it. It would be much too awkward to give it back now."

"Okay, shall we?" She exhaled, picking up her cup. "Let's see, what shall we toast to? Oh! I know! A toast to the both of us for making it to the big city!"

She saw Futaro's lips curl into a grin.

"Also, to you for nearly being done with your movie. You've been working hard on your dreams. And that's something to be proud of."

Ichika grinned from ear to ear. "Alright, cheers!"

"Cheers!"

They clanged their cups. Ichika waited for him to go first. He hesitated for a moment before raising the cup to his lips, taking a careful sip. He suddenly looked up and made eye contact with her.

Panicking, she quickly took the cup and gulped a much larger amount than she intended. The second the liquid touched her lips, she recoiled. It was harsh and bitter.

Her face contorted as if she had bitten into a lemon. It took a lot of willpower not to spit it back onto the cup.

Eww! How horrible! How do people drink this?

She forced the liquid down her throat, it burned, and somehow her mouth felt even dryer.

There is no way that we're drinking this the right way! She thought. Maybe it needed to be mixed with something? Is wine even supposed to be mixed? I thought it was fruity!

She opened her eyes and caught a glimpse at Futaro, who seemed to be having equally a bad time.

They caught each other's eye again. One look was enough for Ichika to understand what he was thinking: Wine is terrible.

Almost as if on cue, they erupted into a fit of giggles and collapsed onto the couch.

"I can't believe people think this crap is good!" He said, staring at the ceiling.

Ichika swirled the glass in her hand. "Maybe it's an acquired taste."

No way they were both drunk already. She thought. How quickly do people get drunk anyway?

The rain outside began to pick up again. The pale sky had turned an ominous gloomy gray, and clouds had descended low enough to block the street view below.

"I guess the park is out for good," Futaro said, starting outside.

Ichika nodded. "Since we're stuck here, and there's nothing to do, why don't we play a game?"

Futaro sat up. "What kind of game? Cards?"

"Well, they're a type of cards. I think you'll be familiar with them. I'll be right back." She shuffled to her room and sifted through the littered mess on her desk. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for. She quickly returned, holding a small ring of study cards.

"Don't tell me you're studying—"

Ichika shook her head. "You're going to help me study my lines, teacher."

Futaro blinked. "I don't understand. How am I supposed to—"

"The rules are simple," She dragged the bottle and the two cups in front of them. "We'll be shooting the big dramatic confession scene next week. The director has been going on about getting more rawness out of my lines. You just have to read the guy's lines, and I'll try to recite my lines from memory. If I get a line wrong, I drink. If I get it right, you drink. Deal?"

"How is that a game? And the rules are heavily weighted against me!"

"Come on! It's not like there's anything better to do! I haven't memorized my lines yet."

Futaro gave the bottle a dirty look. "Fine, but this is an awful idea."

"We're home, we're safe, and it's just the two of us. Besides, would you rather your dear older sister Ichika have her first drinking experience with some stranger out in Tokyo? Don't you have any heart?"

"Stop it, please," he groaned. "Enough of the fake pity act. It doesn't suit you."

"Yay! Okay, read me in."

Futaro read the cards quietly, studying their contents. His eyes darted back and forth on the small parchment, reminding Ichika of the days they used to study together.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, so the scenario is that Nanami, you," he pointed at Ichika. "Having just arrived at the airport, she is about to declare her love to Yamashita-kun—"

"That's you," Ichika pointed at Futaro.

"Y-yes. Right… "who is about to board a plane to America to be with another woman. And Nanami is trying to stop him. Okay," he cleared his throat again. "Here we go. Nanami, what are you doing here?"

Ichika closed her eyes, imagining the letters on the cards materializing in a dark void. "I… came to see you."

"Wrong. It's 'I wanted to see you one last time," he corrected her. "Drink up."

She cursed, taking a big swig from her cup, wincing like she had swallowed a bug.

"I came to see you one last time," she continued. "I didn't want to miss my chance to say goodbye— so, uhh, hi,"

She eyed him carefully. He grunted and reached for his cup and took a swig as big as her to match.

Ichika grinned, watching Futaro's face scrunch up as hers had.

"What are you doing here? I thought we had agreed that we were done when you walked away last Christmas. You embarrassed me in front of my family," he read.

"That was a mistake—I made a mistake! Please just don't get on yet. Hear me out," She recited.

He took another drink from his cup. This is my world, Futaro-kun, she thought, feeling quite satisfied with herself.

"I'm not too sure I want to. You were my everything," he continued. "But, that was then."

"There's someone new, isn't there, Yamashita-kun? You don't need to lie. I already knew from the start."

He took another drink—three to one.

Maybe he was a lightweight, but Ichika noticed Futaro's cheeks had developed a slight pinkish tint. "Of course there is, Nanami-san. It took me a long time to get over you, and now that I finally made up my mind to move on with my life, you decide to show up? How is that fair?" Whenever he'd finish reading a card, he'd look up at her with intense eyes as if he were slipping into the role naturally.

Ichika closed her eyes. She found that looking at Futaro made it hard to concentrate for some reason. "Is it too late for me?"

"Wrong. It's, 'So you've already decided?'"

She groaned and finished her cup, quickly swallowing the liquid to avoid as little contact with her tongue as possible. It warmed her insides in a slightly uncomfortable way. Futaro poured more dark red wine into her cup.

"So you've decided? Yamashita-kun. Please think it over some more. Please stay. You can still choose me."

She reached for her cup again. "I messed up," she said. "I meant to say, 'I want you to choose me.'"

He nodded, confirming her mistake. They were tied now—three to three.

"You're too quick to give your love to another, Yamashita-kun. What if she's a mistake?"

Futaro cursed and finished his drink in one brave gulp. Ichika reached for the bottle and refilled his cup.

"I was too afraid to give us a chance. I backed away when things got scary. But it's different now. See? I can do better." Ichika recited. "I thought it would be best if I weren't in the picture, Futaro—err, I mean, Yamashita-kun."

Futaro looked up at her.

"W-what?"

"You messed up."

"Oh, come on!"

"That would be considered a ruined take, wouldn't it?"

Ichika quietly resigned, softly glowering at Futaro as she took her drink and swallowed it down in one go. She felt like her face was going numb, and her eyes felt increasingly droopy.

"You don't have to drink it all in one gulp!" Futaro said.

"It's fine! It's fine!" Ichika giggled somewhat uncontrollably. "L-lets, go. My next line is… okay, I remember." She coughed, getting back into character. "I thought it would be best if I weren't in the picture, Yamashita-kun. I just wanted to make you happy, and you were happiest at work. But I realized that was a mistake. I realized that I was just running away from myself," she could feel her words beginning to slur.

"That's right! You didn't think about me at all! What about what I wanted!?" He shouted.

Ichika put her finger to her lips and shushed. "Futaro-kun, you don't have to shout."

"Sorry, I was just getting in character."

Ichika smiled. "I'm glad you take this seriously. Anyway, drink!" She pushed his cup in front of him, spilling some on the living room table.

He took the cup and sipped a small amount.

"Oh, come on! I drank the whole thing!"

He furrowed his eyebrows as if sizing up her challenge before tipping the whole thing into his mouth.

Ichika served him more, becoming quite aware of how difficult it had become to pour the liquid from the bottle.

"I just—I just always wanted to be your first choice," She said.

"What?" His face had formed a permanent flush under his cheeks. He wobbled slightly in his seat.

"The line. That's my line."

"Oh," his voice cracked a little.

Futaro's shoulders sank a bit. He polished off his cup, wincing as he cleared his throat, "I wanted you this whole time. But I must go. I want a future. A wife. Children. The whole nine yards… and your lifestyle will never match what I'm looking for. You have so much going for you. And that's why I can't be with you. I want a different type of life, Nanami."

Something deep in Ichika's chest swelled up, compressing her chest. "Yamashita-kun." She cooed.

"Nanami," he replied just as softly.

What are these feelings? She felt herself inching closer to Futaro's face.

Clang!?

"Shit!" Futaro bolted upright. Ichika had accidentally knocked over the wine bottle with her elbow. She expected liquid to pour out from the bottle, but the rattling sounded suspiciously hollow. She picked up the bottle, surprised to discover how light it felt.

"Futaro-kun, we drank it all," Ichika shook the bottle, sloshing the remains in the bottle. She toppled over against the couch, sinking to the ground. "I guess that does it for the game."

"Ahh, just as well," he said, sinking to the floor beside her. "D-do you know who won?"

"I lost track of—of the score." Ichika hiccuped. "The script is garbage anyways. I'll be fine."

Feeling suddenly very tired, she leaned her head on his shoulder. Futaro gazed up at the ceiling. "You're a really good actor. I could feel the love and longing of the character in your eyes."

"What can I say? I'm a professional liar," Ichika closed her eyes. Whatever was in that wine was sure doing a good job of making her feel some strange feelings tonight.

She lifted her head to face him. "Futaro-kun, why don't you stay here tonight?"

"What?" He tilted his head.

"I think you'll be safer here. Think about it. You don't know your way home. And it's still pouring outside. A-and look! I have this nice tv!" She quickly added. "You wouldn't want to miss out, would you?" She quickly reached for the remote and turned on her massive flat screen tv to a random talk show.

"What's gotten into you?"

"N-nothing! As the Big Sister, it is my duty to look after you in this strange new city. It wouldn't be right to just send you off like this into the rain." Ichika's heart was pounding.

"Stop treating me like a kid," Futaro huffed. "I'll admit I feel weird. Maybe you have a point. Unless you call a taxi or Uber."

Sensing that Futaro would insist on paying for the taxi ride on his own, Ichikas instincts kicked in. "Nope! It has been decided. You'll be staying here. No protests! You won't have to waste your money on a taxi, and I'll even order us some takeout and sweeten the deal. How do you feel about pizza? Here, I'll get you some blankets." she tried to stand up, but suddenly the room had turned the room sideways. She lost balance and landed on the couch.

No, not on the couch.

On Futaro.

She supported herself by pressing on Futaro's chest. She fell into a fit of giggles. "Sorry about that! Guess I'm one of those clumsy drunks."

"No, you're just your usual clumsy self. Get off. You're heavy!" Futaro laughed.

"Sorry about that," Ichika said, finally managing to stand up.

"You know what? I think pizza sounds great about now," he said lazily. "I haven't had pizza in a very long time. I hope you don't mind if I stay the night."

"Yay! I have just the perfect thing to watch while we eat. How do you feel about horror movies?" She asked, turning on the tv.

That strange feeling welled up inside Ichika's chest again. Maybe, just maybe, she had done some good today.

Ichika woke up to the harsh sunlight which invaded through her bedroom window. Clouded by an insufferable throbbing headache, she gingerly sat up, mildly confused about her surroundings. She pulled the covers up to her chest and smacked her dry lips. It felt like she had a stomachache, headache, and muscle ache all at the same time. Groaning as she stood up, she struggled to remember when she'd decided to go to bed. Dragging her feet to the window, she pulled the curtains tightly, blocking out the harsh light. One would think it was a perfect day on a blue, cloudless sky like this, but the brightness hurt her irises. Some of her older co-workers had warned her about hangovers, but no one had told her she'd feel like a total slug afterward.

Dragging her covers behind her, she entered her bathroom, catching a glimpse of herself on the large greenroom-style mirror she had requested. Horrified, Ichika touched the smeared, uneven remains of yesterday's immaculate make-up. Her cheeks still had a slight pinkish tint. She also pulled on the skin under her eyes, inspecting the newly formed bags. "Oh, Make-Up isn't going to like this."

I look a little like Futaro-kun. She snorted.

She wondered if he was awake already. She had no talent for the kitchen, but Ichika was sure she could still prepare a simple breakfast. Maybe he's still asleep? Do boys get worse hangovers than girls?

She wandered into the living room, eagerly ready to greet her likely hungover, gloomy friend.

But to her surprise, the living room and the kitchen had been cleaned spotless. Her large quilted curtains, which covered the balcony door, had been pulled back, bathing the living room in sunlight. There was no sign of the pizzas or sodas they had ordered or the splotches of spilled wine on the living room table. Even the blanket she had given Futaro to sleep with was folded neatly. With all evidence of their night removed, Ichika questioned if it even happened. Cautiously, she entered the kitchen, which appeared spotless. The dishes were cleaned, and the wine glasses were polished dry and placed in a metallic rack by her sink. It was as if someone had let out a caffeinated Nino in her apartment, complete with the lingering smell of yuzu-scented cleaning agent.

Ichika spotted a curiously red-stained wooden cork resting on top of a pair of napkins on the kitchen bar and a short note scribbled on a napkin:

Ichika,

Thank you for last night.

Sorry for leaving before you woke up. I tried waiting, but it was getting late, and I had work today. My head was throbbing, so I decided to clean to give myself something to do. I'm not as good as a maid, but I hope I did alright. I brought you an iced coffee from the vending machine downstairs. I left it in the fridge. It's not as good as your artisanal brew, but it's something. Thank you for lending me your couch.

I had a good time.

P. S. I didn't think that drinking illegally would be as fun as it was. I left you the cork. I know they say never to leave evidence of a crime, but I had a hunch you might want to keep it. Let's do it again, but I'll bring a normal pack of cards next time.

Ichika read each line carefully. Signing with relief, she pulled out her phone and quickly tapped away.

[Ichika] (sent at 11:38 p.m) "Operation 'cheer up Futaro-kun' seems to have been a success. Any success with Yotsuba?"

[Miku] (sent at 11:41 p.m) "Stop calling it that… And no, not yet… Also, thank you."

Resting her phone on the kitchen bar, Ichika picked up the cork, rolling it pensively between her thumb and forefinger.

"Stupid Yotsuba, we can only do so much," she uttered to herself, clutching the cork in her hand and pressing it to her chest.

Authors Note: So the movie is here everyone! The Quintessential Quintuplets movie just released, and I just got back from watching it. As a Yotsuba fan, I loved most of it, save for a few problems with scenes that were cut from certain chapters. I was very satisfied with the final result, yet really sad that the canon story is now officially over. I'm sorry for taking longer than usual before publishing this chapter. It's been a bit of a crazy month and I was working on another project. But I'll talk about that more later.

This chapter was so fun for me to write. I really like the idea of Yotsuba's sisters rallying together to try and do something about Futaro feeling lonely, and Ichika is just such a fun character to write with. I always imagine she and Futaro would be a bit more okay with getting into some trouble together, and I wanted to show that in a controlled environment. I chose to follow the kind words of another TQQ fic writer to take some more time write a longer chapter to hopefully make the month long wait worth it. I'm going to challenge myself to write some longer chapters and flesh out some scenes better going forwards, so please look forward to that.

Some special thank you's are in order to the following: Chloetuco, Bobalon, Tuck Act IV, The Mist 33, and Bazzo

And on Reddit: Uberr, MylittleRocketShip, Roundy_Roundy, and Complex_Pretend

Thank you for always leaving insightful commentary and reviews on my fic, it really is what fuels me to keep going and teaches me a little big about what's working and what isn't.