Chapter 24 — Loveliest Lies of All

Sunrise skimmed the folds of cotton sheets. A sea of the finest spun fibers—soft and serene, like a shawl of spring clouds that wrapped over skin. The white sedated; the warmth confined. It was the kind of warmth that kept any body imprisoned underneath the covers. It made sanctuary for any sleep, and spoiled the will of any purposeful mind, desiring nothing more than a few more minutes—or even hours entirely—to begin their morning. And if he had been any more careless, then Uesugi Fuutarou might have done exactly that.

When the lights of midmorning drew over his eyelids, Fuutarou slowly began to stir in bed. Compared to the plain and monotonous grays and blues that made for the walls and bedding of his own Tokyo studio apartment, the room he woke to could not be called anything else but lavish. From white to pearl, to ivory and alabaster—chiffon, porcelain, powder, and beige—every tint and hue of luxurious whites that could dye designer-brand furniture and decor was present before him. So bright that it was nearly blinding to his dreary eyes. In the corner there was a makeup vanity with a lighted mirror. Lipstick, foundation, and brushes stocked the shelves, along with various other bottles and cases he could not immediately notice. On parts of the walls were stylized posters of iconic actresses and scenes, with some hung wall-scrolls of traditional Japanese aesthetic placed beside it. There was a large flat-screen TV, a console table, a cabinet containing a collection of movies, some potted plants to decorate the table surfaces, and a few propped picture frames here and there.

And as he stretched his arms and legs, he was surprised to find out that no matter how far he may go, there always seemed to be more bedding for his limbs to lie upon. It was a bed—that much was obvious—but he had never rested upon one that was this soft and this spacious. Slowly, Fuutarou sat himself upright, and shortly after, there was a gentle knock sounding from the corner.

"Morning." The word fluttered from her lips, lifted like lyrics, as she stepped through the opened door. She carried two mugs in her hands. "Are you just going to lay in bed all day, or what, Fuutarou-kun? It's almost noon already."

"Ichika…" Fuutarou replied, his voice still groggy. He rubbed his eyes. "Good… good morning…"

She giggled. "What's the matter with you? You look like you've woken straight from the dead. My bed not comfortable enough for you?"

Ichika placed one of the mugs onto the nightstand beside them, her hands crossing the thin line of sunlight that slipped past the split of the see-through curtains. A brief glint shone at her finger, past the knuckle of her left hand and encased in a thin metal band.

"Your bed…?" Even his thoughts were sluggish, picking up some of the pieces as he gazed at the familiar ring. "Ah. That's right. I stayed over last night."

"You seriously forgot that?"

"I just didn't recognize that this was your room. It looks a lot bigger in-person, and I think it was dark in here before I…" Fuutarou followed the downward motion of Ichika's gaze, realizing just then that the last of the bedcovers had slipped past his skin, revealing the entirety of his bare chest. And the smeared leftovers of lipstick, pecked across his torso like marks on a canvas.

"Wait," Fuutarou said, looking back to find the impish smile of his lover. "Last night, did I… I mean, did we… For some reason, I can't remember anything. Did I do anything weird? Did I—"

"Nope," Ichika interrupted, taking an overly casual sip of her coffee. "You pretty much knocked out the moment you hit the bed, Fuutarou-kun. I was kind of impressed, actually. It takes a special kind of man to fall asleep with a pretty girl all over him. I even made it all the way…" She leaned closer, grazing a nail from the smudge behind his ear, to the curve of his jawline, down the sides of his neck, and onto a smear of lipstick above his belly."…here before I heard you snoozing without a care in the world. You know, some girls would be pretty upset over that kind of thing. But, luckily for you, I'm hardly one to get upset over those kinds of things."

"Sorry," said Fuutarou. "I guess all the stress finally caught up to me. All the planning, all the things that could have went wrong. It was almost a complete mess."

"Yeah, I heard from some of the'crew members' you hired. You must have been exhausted, so I can't hold that over you." As she said that, Ichika reached over and pinched the corner of his cheek. "But what I can be a little upset over is that stunt you pulled, Fuutarou-kun."

"H—huh?"

"Don't lie to me; I see that silly smile on your face. How long were you planning that, hmm? You even got all those people and my sisters on board. I thought grand displays weren't your kind of thing."

"They're not. That's why it was supposed to surprise you. And it was a huge succe—ow!"

"You're smiling again," said Ichika.

"Only because you are," Fuutarou retorted.

"That's different! You've got that smug smile like 'Oh, she totally fell for it. It could not have gone any better!' That's what you're thinking right now, aren't you? Is that what's making you so happy and funny-looking, hm? Hmm?"

Fuutarou chuckled. "Well, it's not easy to lie to someone who does it for a career. So, I figured I've earned the right to gloat a little. And? What's that smile on your face for?"

Ichika smirked, ignoring the obvious shades of red that filled her cheeks red the entire time. "Mm… well, I guess I can tell you. I'm smiling because I have the best boyfriend—no, wait..." She leaned closer, bringing the slightly dampened ends of her short hair closer to his face. A light fragrance danced under his nose, bringing pleasant scents of sugared rhubarb and wild poppies into the shrinking space between them. It was sweet and it was intoxicating. It roused the last of his muscles, brought to life with a single kiss to the sore spot on his cheek. "… the best fiancé in the world," Ichika continued. "I've fallen in love with you all over again, Fuutarou-kun."

She loosely brushed aside the messiest parts of his bangs, stopping only to smile as the brief shimmer of her engagement ring fell right beside the gleam in his golden eyes, squinting from the morning light that spilled over his face. If everything she ever needed could be painted to a single picture, then the dark strands between her fingers were the bold strokes and the cardinal tinges that flushed his cheeks were the pigments. The world could stop spinning and she would only be grateful, so as long as it meant that this moment could too last forever. And even if that could never happen, then this promise that wrapped around her ring finger offered solace as close to forever as they both could imagine. "Come on," Ichika said, lifting herself from her lover's bedside. "Get yourself out of bed already. How about I fix you something to eat?"

"If it isn't a problem," Fuutarou replied, slowly beginning to climb out of bed. "Thanks, Ichika. By the way, where is my luggage?"

"Your luggage? Oh, I think I left it in the… far closet. It's the room past the door over there."

"You have an entire room dedicated as a closet?"

"Mhm! Anyway, I'll get started with breakfast for you. Just take your time freshening up, okay?"

Ichika excused herself with another quick kiss and made her way to the kitchen. In the time she had spent living alone, Ichika would have loved to boast an impressionable, more refined culinary talent. Something truly worth wowing her newly engaged partner as he stepped out of the shower and dressing himself in the clean clothes she had thoughtfully prepared for him. He would have been welcomed to the crisp crackle of bacon on the frying pan, the roil of golden yolks, and anything else that made for other rich scents of a hearty breakfast. At least, that was what came to mind as Ichika fixed the apron around her waist. In truth, her culinary talents had not made any significant leaps nor bounds in the near-two years she had lived in America. The barren shelves inside her fridge reiterated the idea. Unless she could impress with half-a-carton of nearly expired milk and some leftover Chinese takeout, then she was out of luck. Though, in her head, Ichika defended the argument with the many intrusions and obligations that stuffed the daily schedule of a busy actress. Breakfast with friends, brunch with colleagues, lunch with the producers and directors, and dinners to be guiltily skipped for camera or photo shoots taking place the following morning. Not to mention the social functions that happened nearly every weekend.

And besides! It was not as if Ichika had any time to prepare to begin with. She did not wake that previous morning expecting a guest to stay over in her apartment, much less ending the day betrothed!

Her thoughts must have strayed a little too far, as Ichika found herself startled by the second chime of her doorbell, followed by a knock shortly after. "Ichika?" a muffled, yet familiar voice came through. "You there?"

"Coming!" she replied. Peering through the eyelet, Ichika was able to see the long, dark ponytail that confirmed who she thought it was, and welcomed her in. "Erika? What brings you over?"

Erika clumsily stepped into the apartment, carrying a cardboard tray of drinks in one hand, and a backpack slung over her shoulder. "Hey, girl! Sorry to barge in out of nowhere, but you weren't answering my texts. Did you get my messages?"

Ichika raised a brow and looked around her. "My phone? No, I don't think I've checked it all morning. Where is…"

"Ehh, it's whatever. I'm here now. Anywho, the reason I stopped by…" Erika plopped the backpack onto the nearby couch. "The cleanup crew found this when they were going through the changing room. Might wanna tell 'Prince Charming' that he should be careful where he leaves his stuff lying around. Especially with things like his passport and his wallet."

"Are you talking about Fuutarou-kun?"

"Who else?" Erika smirked, looking at Ichika up and down, as if the clothes she wore still had some business laying in bed. "Now that I think about it, were you two in the middle of something? Am I interrupting?"

"No, you weren't." Ichika quickly refuted. "But thank you for bringing these over. I was just in the middle of preparing something for Fuutarou-kun to eat. He should be finished showering soon."

"Wooow, look at you two; already acting like newlyweds."

"It's the least I can do. Fuutarou-kun must have been through a lot of trouble, and I want to do all I can for him while he's here. Though… I've run into a few issues with umm… ingredients."

"Hmm…" Erika thought for a moment. "Well, if you want my advice—ditch the clothes, keep the apron. Guarantee you he won't have a single complaint. Guys go crazy for that kind of thing."

"Erika…" Ichika sighed, but before she could ask anything else, a loud thud came from the other room, causing them to glance over. They heard smaller, yet still heavy, sounds as if piles of dense objects were spilling onto the floor. After a short series of grumbles and curses, Fuutarou entered the room, hair still damp and dressed in the fresh clothes Ichika had laid out for him.

"Hey, hey!" Erika lifted a hand towards Fuutarou. "'Ohayo' to the Asian Romeo! Sorry to intrude, but I brought you guys some boba!"

"Miss Sasaki-san?" said Fuutarou."I did not know you were here. Good morning to you."

"Japanese is fine," she said with a quick flip of her tongue. "And I'm only stopping by for a tiny bit. What was that noise earlier?"

With a callous glare, Fuutarou nudged towards Ichika. "Ichika's closet. I was looking for the stuff I brought over, and it turns out, she just stuffed it along with a bunch of her other things in the closet. It all came crashing down on me when I opened the door." He sighed. "I thought this place seemed suspiciously clean."

Playfully, Ichika stuck out her tongue. "Hi Fuutarou-kun. Erika was just stopping by because you left some things behind. She said there were some pretty important things in there. It's over there by the end table."

"Some important things—oh! Oh, shoot! I left that there?"

Erika shrugged. "Yeah, you did. But don't sweat it. Though, I tried texting both of you, but your phone was in the bag, and Ichika wasn't picking up. I've been calling you all morning."

"Oh, now that I think about it…" said Ichika. "Yeah, I remember. My phone kept going off last night, so I silenced it. It woke me up, like, twice in the middle of the night. I was surprised you didn't stir at all, Fuutarou-kun."

"I didn't hear a thing," he replied. "I can't remember the last time I've been out that long."

"I could tell. You were snoring like a wild animal."

"Huh?" Fuutarou jerked his head. "Wait, no I do not. You're joking, right?"

She laughed. "Of course I am. Completely. But, now that you meniton it, I should check and see what all those notifications were about. It's probably my sisters; we hardly had enough time to talk during the whole thing last night. Which hotel did you say you all were staying at?"

"It wasn't too far from the venue. I think it was called…"

"Whoa!" There was a short amount of time between the click of her phone screen and the loud scoot of Ichika's bar stool, as she stared widely at her screen. "What the—?! What's all of this?"

Crammed across the screen of her phone were clusters of texts, bubbles, and blurbs. Rows of contracted text to every social media platform she had installed on her phone, all shifting up and down as if they were competing for space on her notification tray. Another notification would replace the one she had just swiped away, announced loudly with a bell chime.

"What am I looking at?" Fuutarou said as he glanced over. "Wow, even your phone is a mess. How do you navigate through all of that?"

"It's not that!" Ichika said, still scrolling through some of the notifications. "These are all recent! Where did all of these come from? I even have a bunch of missed calls from my sisters. Did they call you too?"

"No idea. Let me go check my phone."

"Wait a second…" Erika said, switched gazes between the two of them. "Oh. Ohhh… You two don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Ohh ho ho ho! Thatis funny actually. Like, you have no idea! It's been all over social media, so I've been assuming this entire time—damn, where should I begin?" She took a long sip of her bubble tea, loudly humming her thoughts between chews of tapioca pearls. There was some struggle in her tone, as if trying to stop herself from laughing too crudely. "Okay, okay, okay. Y'all might wanna sit down for this; it's gonna be a lot. So, basically…."

For the next handful of minutes, Erika told them a story of grandeur. A story that felt like it was fetched straight from the imagination of an overly zealous storyteller, their mind left to fester in an endless stream of 'what-ifs' and 'maybes', until all that was left was a ludicrous sequence of events that made her listener's question every last word. To them, it just sounded so incredibly far-fetched. Every quizzical look either Fuutarou or Ichika had given her was met with an affirmative nod, as if the answer to their questions could somehow have been changed by simply asking it again. In the span of one night, word of one of the most intricately planned proposals had been circulating all across social media. Tens to hundreds of thousands of views, likes, and shares—and still growing—across the identical posts that littered the'Trending' topics of both Japanese and English followers.

'Actress Gets The Surprise of a Lifetime! One of the Best Proposals of the Decade!"

"Japanese Actress, Nakano Ichika, gets proposed to during fake movie set!"

"Surprise Proposal in Hollywood! She will never forget this!"

'She had NO idea what was going to happen! — WATCH UNTIL THE END!'

It was an overnight sensation. Fifty-three participants involved. A beautiful and talented actress, framed perfectly under the spotlight and stood on a stage made just for her. Those whose interest was piqued enough to dig further into the story would discover the devotion of one of an ordinary man—her highschool sweetheart and Tokyo University student—Uesugi Fuutarou. A story gobbled up by bleeding hearts and hopeless romantics alike, as if it were one of their favorite romance novels come to life.

"All of this happened overnight?" Ichika said, still in disbelief.

"Yup!" Erika answered. "Looks like your Japanese fan-base was all over it, swapping shifts with the western fans by morning. Nonstop-news-circulation! Social media gets pretty wild, you know?"

One after the other, coverage of the grand proposal played across her phone screen. There was a wide-angle shot, capturing the special moment in the ballroom as the then-disguised Fuutarou caught Ichika in his arms. Next was another shot, this time much closer to the actors on set, where the camera caught a glimpse of the moment Fuutarou and the'lead' actor, James, had switched places during the scene. And peculiarly, there was a short clip that caught two of her sisters, Miku and Itsuki, accidentally stumbling into the room as Ichika had her eyes closed for the makeup artist, none the wiser.

"Isn't this a backstage shot?" Ichika asked. "There are so many videos! How did these get leaked?"

"Those? Yeah, those came directly from on-set. Name any time or angle, and you got it. It's all over."

"From on-set? Wait, how do you know?"

"Oh, did I forget to tell you?" Erika reached one finger over to Ichika's phone on the table, nudging the social media feed ever so slightly upward—just enough so that the currently playing video also showed the poster's handle—' .Official'

"…who do you think was the one who posted it?"

"YOU?!" Ichika exclaimed.

"What?" Erika laughed." You thought we would go through the trouble of renting all that equipment and not capture any footage? Come on! Do you have any idea how much that stuff costs ?Sure, it was all a ruse, but as far as the cameras were concerned, we were filming a legit scene"

"Fuutarou-kun!" Ichika looked beside her. "Did you know about this?"

"We've… discussed it a few times before," he answered, sounding a bit surprised himself. "I just didn't know it would get this big, this quickly."

"Something like this doesn't stay on the down low, you know?" Erika followed up. "It's Hollywood, after all! They've got eyes and ears everywhere. And you should know the paparazzi and all those tabloid magazines are always so eager to put their own little spin on things to spice up a story. So, I brought up the idea to Fuutarou that we should publicize it and get the facts straight."

"That… makes sense, I suppose."

"By the looks of it, your hits are skyrocketing. Like, have you seen your follower count lately? Even my little brother was going nuts over it. People are finally noticing the next big thing to come out of the filming industry." Erika exaggerated a couple of quick claps as if she were to compensate for an entire audience. "Let's hear it for Nakano Ichika! Woo!"

"That kind of praise is too generous," Ichika quickly refuted. "I mean, I only had a small following when I was in Japan, compared to most. And I've only been debuted in America for less than two years. There's no reason that I—"

"Save the humbleness for the award speech," Erika interrupted. "Come on, girl! You've made it big! You've been making it big! I knew it the moment I saw you that you were gonna be a star."

"I fully agree," Fuutarou promptly added, hands placed firmly on his hips. "There is not a single actress out there like Ichika."

"You guys…" Ichika muttered, fidgeting back and forth on the seat of her barstool. "That is too much praise, but really, thank you. Though, from what I remember, Fuutarou-kun, you were completely against the idea when you first found out. Remember? During the fireworks festival?"

"That was all the way back in high school."

"It wasn't that long ago."

"Well, a lot has happened since then. I've practically forgotten I've ever said anything like that."

"That's because you're terrible at admitting when you're wrong." Ichika leaned over, following the evasive look in his eyes. "Come on, say it. Tell me exactly how wrong you were. Don't spare any details."

"Aww, look at you two," Erika said, smiling. "Even the way you argue is cute. Now, don't let ol' Erika get in your way longer than she has. I already dropped off your things, Fuutarou, so I'll take my leave." She scooted from her chair, grabbing the baseball cap and face-mask she had left on the kitchen counter.

"Thanks for stopping by," said Ichika, "and for the tea, too."

"And thanks for dropping off my things," added Fuutarou. "I really owe you, Sasaki-san."

"It's no bother," Erika replied, flicking the handles of her large sunglasses and placing it onto her face, disguising any discernible features of her face. A necessity—as Fuutarou had eventually realized—that all famous figures had to have ready before stepping out into public. To him, it seemed like a hassle. Overwhelming, even. And the more he thought about it, the more it reminded Fuutarou about the kinds of struggles Ichika would face as she ascended to new heights in her career. The popularity she had garnered so quickly in America, and the adoration she still inspired back in Japan—it did not seem like it was too far until she truly became an actress to an era. That was something the two of them discussed time and time again. The inconvenience, the longing, the distance. If all it could get was more difficult moving forward, then how could he, or how could they—

"Oh, by the way, Ichika," Erika said as she was putting on her shoes.

"Yeah?"

"Wendy from hair-and-makeup told me that she overheard Jimmy hitting on you last night. Need me to go beat his ass for you?"

"Huh…?" Ichika blinked, then remembered. "Wait, do you mean James? Wasn't that all a part of the act?"

"Not entirely." She sighed. "We had an issue on-set, and we sent Jimmy in last-minute as a distraction. But the absolute nerve of the guy… was that really the best he could come up with? Hitting on the fiancée-to-be?You sure you don't want me to?"

"I… I'm sure," Ichika replied with a halfhearted chuckle. "There is no need to go that far."

"Hmm… alright. How about you, Fuutarou?"

"M—me?" Fuutarou said.

"Yeah. Dude pulling moves on your partner doesn't really slide with most people, you know? Better yet, wanna go together?"

"No, no. That won't be necessary." Fuutarou quickly replied. "It's not a big deal. Really."

Erika shrugged. "Mmkay, if you two say so. Still, I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind if I see his face around. Later! Oh, and congrats on the engagement, lovebirds!" And with a click of the door, the dark-haired actress had made her exit, leaving the newly engaged couple to the rest of their afternoon.

After a short silence, Fuutarou glanced around the kitchen counter. "Oh my god…"

"Hmm? What is it?"

"We're… engaged. Engaged!" He repeated the word, the corner of his lips tugging to a wide smile. There was a spirited spring in his step as he made his way to Ichika, tenderly wrapping his arms around her waist and twirling her around the room. "We are engaged! Haha!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Ichika giggled as her feet lifted from the floor. "Why are you acting so surprised? You're the one who proposed to me!"

"Yeah, but just saying it is something else. It's like a dream! You said 'yes', and we… you and I are—"

"I know; I was there, Fuutarou-kun..." She wrapped one arm behind his neck, matching that blissful look in his eyes, down to the fervent smile on his lips. Her finger tapped the tip of his nose, then curled to draw the jewel of her engagement ring before his eyes. "…or maybe," she continued, close enough so that the gentleness of her voice caressed him, "I should start calling you, 'dear' now…? W—whoa! Careful! You almost dropped me!"

Fuutarou forced a chuckle, gently bringing her down. "S…sorry. That just caught me off guard a little." He sighed. "Now that I think about it, I was so nervous yesterday that I barely ate. I'm starving. Was breakfast ready?"

"Breakfast… oh! Oh, haha!" Ichika laughed, though it came out a little too abruptly. "I for—I mean, I was thinking… you know, um—you came all the way to here California, right? So… why not go out and eat? Try some of the food here! I'm sure you'll love it!"

"Oh." Fuutarou nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"Right? Then, it's settled!" Ichika grinned, quickly untying her apron as she made her way to the bedroom. "I know a few places nearby, depending on what you're feeling. Let me go and get changed. I'll be back soon!"

Outside, the city stretched itself across a backdrop of blue. Cloudless, as winter crept to its fleeting days, with bright sunlight skimming over the streets and drawing long shadows of palm trees. From one distance were the lush hills that encompassed the Los Angeles region. From the other, the fine line where oceans met skies, dividing two brilliant shades of blue. Occasionally, the crisp ocean breeze would whisk beside them as they strolled down the city street, bringing them closer together and tightening their fingers that were laced with the other's.

"There's a café that I usually go to down this street," Ichika said, pulling down her face mask. Along with her casual date attire—which consisted of a form-fitting sweater dress tied with thin a designer belt around her waist—Ichika also threw together a few other accessories on their way out the door, which included her black, thick-rimmed glasses that she could never seem to part with, even if she had no reason to disguise herself. Ichika continued, "it's where I usually go on my days off. The coffee is great and they've got a pretty tasty lunch menu too. Have you ever had a panini before?"

"What's that?" asked Fuutarou.

"Basically, an Italian sandwich. They use this special kind of press on it and it makes it taste really good. I'm sure it'll fill you right up."

"From what I've heard about American portion sizes, I'd say that's a safe bet."

Ichika laughed. "Tell me about it! I had to weigh myself for months when I first got here. I'm sure the two of us can even split one. Let's see… it shouldn't be much further from here. Make a turn at the corner up ahead."

After enough traveling, the streets had turned from the quiet and peaceful setting of a wealthy neighborhood to one that much more like a city. More and more people roved about, indulged in any and all affairs a careless weekend could bring. Everyone was going somewhere, and the more time Fuutarou spent gawking between palm trees to hole-in-the-wall shops, the sooner he realized that he may have been drawing more attention to himself, and inadvertently, to Ichika, who needed to blend in as nonchalantly as possible. Though, it hardly appeared as if she minded, as the young actress casually recalled stories of her life in America during their walk.

"Aren't you worried someone might recognize you walking with me?" Fuutarou mentioned as they passed by a long window of a convenience store, with a magazine rack facing the street. There were two younger girls conversing over the pages of a fashion magazine, and the model featured on the cover was Nakano Ichika herself, dressed in a collared midi dress with a floral pattern that heralded the styles of spring.

"Mm… I wouldn't say so," said Ichika, fixing the straps of her face mask. "No one pays that much attention to people out in the street. Just going around like this is enough for most actresses."

"I guess that makes sense," said Fuutarou. "I don't remember you wearing a disguise back in Japan. You were mostly debuting at the time, but now, you're more popular than ever. Remember what happened the last time?"

"Ah… you're talking about those two during Hanami." Ichika casually chuckled. "Well, things like that happen from time to time. And if it were to happen, most fans are pretty understanding after you acknowledge them."

"Still, I'm worried it could get out of hand. What happened if you're swarmed by fans on the street and can't get out?"

"Come on, that's an exaggeration. Things like that barely happen. And besides—"

"Look!" a voice came from further behind them. "It's Ichika Nakano!"

Their shoulders stiffened, caught halfway between an instinctive turn, with the incoherent sputter of rushed thought slipping past their lips. One second, two, then five, then ten—the strangers continued to approach, and still Fuutarou and Ichika could not pull together a single thought. With a bitter sigh, Ichika fixed her glasses and forced a smile, turning around. "H—Hello…"

And the footsteps passed.

Further down the sidewalk and past the outdoor tables of a lunch eatery—whose diners curiously glanced over from behind their menus—a trio of teenagers had hurriedly made their way to a small crowd that gathered near a corner crosswalk. An incoherent mass of words and shouts formed, growing louder with every, "Ichika?", and "Huh?", and "Wait, where?!" they muttered, pulling more and more eyes to the center of the crowd.

"Oh…" Fuutarou hardly had the time to wipe the sweat from his brow, glancing to his side. "Don't tell me…"

Ichika reluctantly nodded, not looking any calmer herself. "It has to be…"

At the center of the crowd was a woman with long hair, with her shoulders and elbows meekly tucked together as she held onto a coffee cup with both of her hands, while also trying to answer the barrage of questions and comments that came to her in a foreign tongue. But all that would come out was a stutter, as every thought was interrupted by three more. She found herself turning in all directions, shaking her head with every desperate attempt to draw less attention to herself. "I—I am not…" she began.

"Ichika!" a young woman had shouted within the crowd. "I'm a huge fan! Congratulations on your engagement!"

"But I—"

"Can I have a picture with you, Miss Ichika?" a boy excitedly asked, already handing his phone to his friend. "It'll be really quick!"

"I want one next!" someone called from behind her.

From further outside the crowd, Fuutarou let out a long sigh. "Of course. How did we not see this coming?"

"We have to help her somehow," said Ichika, giving Fuutarou an expectant look. "And, well, you know… it might cause more problems if I were to…"

"Yeah..." Again, Fuutarou sighed. "Yeah, I know. Miku's always struggled with English, and it's probably gotten worse since we graduated. Hold on. I'll figure something out."

Ichika pulled down her face mask and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "I knew I could count on you, honey. Best of luck." Perhaps she may have been imagining it, but Ichika had seen a clumsy haste in her lover's steps, regaining his composure once he neared the crowd. She loved that about him. She loved that feeling of harmony whenever she strolled beside him, and that feeling of safety whenever she watched his back. Something about this man, who she could now earnestly claim as her fiancé, gave her all the comfort and assuredness she could ever hope for. Every time she would look at him, and every time she would think about him, she smiled.

There was something a senior co-actress once said to Ichika when she was still working in Japan. She said that 'all women in the entertainment industry were doomed to stay single', and if it were not for sake of the fans, then it would later fall for the sake of their partners. Not many potential love interests could endure the hardships that came with having a celebrity for a partner, and even some of the more hopeful candidates could collapse under the pressure. There was just too much to deal with. Too much to sacrifice. But when it came to someone like Fuutarou, Ichika just knew that there was no room for any doubt. Unlike herself, Fuutarou had no talent for lying. Or rather, he had no reason to. Every part of him—his devotion, his endearment, his honesty—were all laid bare. And Ichika loved that. If any of that could be questioned, then last night's display would be the answer. She was blessed to have Fuutarou, and at times, Ichika felt as if she could do more to show it.

"Alright!" one of the boys from the crowd called out, positioning himself on the street with a phone camera angled towards Miku and one of Ichika's fans posing beside her. "I'm taking it in three… two—"

Before he could take the picture, Fuutarou had forced himself in front of the camera, earning a few dirty looks from the surrounding people. He quickly shrugged it off, making his way closer to Miku. As the desperate girl looked all around, a hopeful glint shined in her eyes as she recognized him. "Fuutarou—!" she mouthed, as if the surrounding noise had not drowned her out.

"Watch where you're going!" someone said to him.

"What the hell, man?" another called.

Fuutarou knew his English was a little out of practice, but there was little to misinterpret when it came to a raised voice. "That is enough, everyone!" he shouted. "Leave her alone! Hey, out of the way!"

"Who is this guy?"

As Fuutarou neared, Miku quickly clung onto his arm as if he were a lifeline. "Fuutarou!" she said again, more relieved than ever. "You're here! Thank you!"

The expression alone was enough to give them some space, and all Fuutarou needed to do now was get rid of the crowd. "This is not Nakano Ichika," he said, gesturing widely to Miku's face. "This is her twin sister. You are scaring her. She does not speak English good."

"Wait, Ichika Nakano has a twin sister?" someone muttered to their friend beside them. "Did you know that?"

They shrugged. "First I've heard of it."

"I thought her family all lived in Japan," said another person. "Maybe they're all visit—"

"No way, that has to be Ichika. I know the love of my life when I see her! Who the hell does this guy think—"

"Actually, I remember reading that Ichika is actually a quadruplet or something."

"For real? Are they all girls too—"

"That's just a rumor though, right? No way there's—"

"I heard they've used each other as stunt doubles—"

"Quiet, quiet!" Fuutarou shouted over them, growing more disgruntled with the growing murmurs. It was not until he was argumentative did Fuutarou realize how troublesome a limited vocabulary was. Again, Fuutarou gestured, this time to length of Miku's hair, ending to her exposed earlobes. "See? Her hair is long. Ichika's hair is short. And her sister has no pierced ears. This is not her. This is her twin. Please leave her alone. Please go away."

Like a broken record, Fuutarou repeated the words over and over again until the crowd began to thin. Politeness—or what little semblance he had of it to begin with—was quickly discarded the more he needed to reiterate the words. If Miku were not closely attached to his side, then the onlookers would have had trouble believing his aggressive remarks. Whether they were convinced, or were seemingly unprepared for arguing with a disgruntled foreigner, eventually they all dissipated into the rhythm of a weekend routine.

"Damn, that sucks," one person complained. "I thought that was her. Hey, wanna grab lunch nearby?"

"Who even was that guy? He looked kind of familiar."

"I was thinking the same thing. But he was a bit of a jerk, though, don't you think...?"

"I'm still convinced that is the real Ichika Nakano though…" a man grumbled, walking away.

"Did you still want the picture I took?" someone asked their friend as they crossed the street.

"It's not really her, but… yeah, I'll take it. Her sister is just as hot as she is. Hey, do you think…"

When she was sure there was no one else lingering around, Ichika hurriedly made her way over to the two of them. "Miku! Are you alright? I am so sorry…"

"I'm… I'm fine." Miku loudly exhaled. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks, Ichika, but you don't have to apologize for anything. And thank you so much, Fuutarou. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there. I didn't expect anything like that to happen."

"Don't mention it," he said, massaging his neck. "Just be careful. Ichika is a lot more popular around here than we thought. You shouldn't be surprised if people mistake you for her when you're walking around in public."

"Here, Miku. Take this." Ichika pulled a spare face mask from her purse, which her sister gladly accepted.

"Thanks, Ichika," said Miku. "And I understand, Fuutarou. It's just that I didn't know what to say to them. They just came out of nowhere, and there were too many people speaking, and it was all so loud and overwhelming."

"Well, English was always your worst subject," said Fuutarou. "I thought I told you to brush up on it a bit more before we came here. At least enough so that you can refuse someone. Americans are a lot more willing to randomly converse with strangers and—"

Ichika patted him on the back. "Let's save the lecturing for another time, Fuutarou-kun. I'm sure Miku must be pretty overwhelmed right now." She turned to her sister. "What brings you all the way here, Miku? Where are the rest of the girls?"

"Ah…" Miku held up the cup of coffee in her hand. "Nino and I thought that we'd visit several cafés and bakeries while we're here in America. We thought it would give us some ideas for decorations for our café back at home."

"I see. So where is she? Is she with you?"

"She was earlier. We ended up passing by so many that we thought we should split up so that we can cover more. At the time, I thought it was a good idea, but I realized that without Nino, I have trouble finding my way around. I was about to text her before all of… that just happened. Oh, that reminds me; I should reply to her."

"So Nino is out wandering around too?" Fuutarou grimaced, glancing across the street. "Should we hurry and see if she needs help, too?"

"Something tells me Nino wouldn't run into that much trouble." Ichika chuckled. "Though, I am still a little worried. Especially Itsuki and Yotsuba too. I didn't bring any more disguises with me."

"They both should still be at the hotel," Miku answered. "Yotsuba is used to waking up the earliest out of all of us, so the jet lag has messed her up the most. Itsuki stayed with her and they were going to join us later." Miku checked her phone. "Yeah… she's already called me three times. I should go and find her."

"I'll be sure to call you girls soon," said Ichika. "Let's make some plans for tonight."

Miku nodded. "Sounds good. I'll let them know. And, Fuutarou, sorry again for the trouble. I really can't thank you enough."

"It's fine," replied Fuutarou. "Just as long as you're all safe. I did promise your father I would keep you all out of trouble, so…"

She giggled, and before she finished putting on her face mask, Miku said, "Bye bye, Fuutarou, Ichika. We'll see you both soon."

A few minutes later, Fuutarou and Ichika found themselves seated on the street-facing window of a local café, watching the passing cars and passersby gallivant about their daily lives. Ice clattered against the cold glass, engulfed in the somber hues of black coffee. Simple, but beautiful in its simplicity and boldness. In comparison, the one across carried the swirls of milk foam that settled on the coffee cup, formed to an intricately drawn leaf with the bristles finely pulled to the rim. A tad too lovely to be sipped without savoring it with a picture, and Ichika had taken the extra effort to capture a shot with Fuutarou's torso in the frame, ending just above the collar of his button-up shirt, with his forearms relaxed over the table.

'Coffee Date w/ my darling 3'—read the caption, and Ichika continued with her social media feed.

"I'll post it after we leave," Ichika said and slowly began taking sips of her cappuccino. A delicate balance struck her tongue. The rich and bold flavor of espresso, offset by the sweetness of steamed milk, all to be bridged together by the creamy texture of foam that gathered at her lips. The first sip was always the most decadent, and Ichika would always spare a few silent seconds to let the taste settle, warming her throat with bittersweet tones. When she finished, she glanced forward. "And how about you, Fuutarou-kun? Was lunch to your liking?"

"It was delicious," he replied. "Thanks for treating me."

"It's all my pleasure. Nothing is too much when it comes to you." She winked, coffee cup still held over her lips. "Doesn't this take you back a bit? It's almost like…"

"Our first date? Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Fuutarou leaned back. "It's been… three years, huh? Wow."

"Some people would say that's moving pretty fast."

"Do you think so?"

Ichika shrugged. "Who are we to know? It just feels… right. I think that's all that matters."

"Then, that is all I need to know." Fuutarou smiled, taking a sip of his cold brew coffee. Compared to the coffee that Ichika had offered him a sip of, his was a lot darker. Smoother. A touch of what seemed like sourness, but it was a taste he had become well acquainted with over the years. "I remember I never liked bitter things back then," he continued. "I didn't know how to ask someone out on a date, or how to dress for one at all, for the matter."

"… or how to accept generosity," Ichika added. "Remember? You were always so thorny about being treated out or having me cover you. It was always about paying-back-this and owing-me-that. Now look, you can properly say'thank you'."

Fuutarou guiltily chuckled. "Well, it wasn't something I was used to. But hey, I learned."

"We learned," Ichika corrected. "We were both a little awkward around some corners, but isn't every couple? They agree and they disagree. They fight and make up. There were times where I could have been a little more honest with you. A little more open, so that I could rely on you sooner." She reached over the table, gently holding his hand in hers. "We've learned a lot. From each other. And we're still learning."

"Yeah," Fuutarou replied, smiling. "You're right. There are still so many things I hope for us, Ich—" He quickly stopped himself, twisting his mouth to a stiffened grin . "I mean, umm… 'babe'…?"

Ichika had to abruptly stop herself from bursting into laughter. "Smooth! Ahaha! Hold on, hold on, I need a second. You really do have your way of making things very 'you'. Have I ever told you that?"

He quietly resigned to a laugh. "Guess there are still a lot of things I'm still clumsy about. I'll work on that."

"No, keep it. It's one of the many things I love about you." She took another sip of her coffee. "And besides, not a lot of people here can understand Japanese. Relax a little." Ichika leaned back in her chair, keeping her fingers wrapped around the curve of her coffee cup while it was still warm to the touch. "But yeah, springtime has been making me feel a little sentimental lately. Sorry if I come out a little sappy."

"Not at all," he reassured. "It's everything that I'm thinking, but I can never find the right words to say it. You're absolutely right. And we're engaged now, so there's a lot still in store for us, and we should always be more clear with our feelings, and if we there is—I mean, if there are ever any…" Fuutarou stopped himself, sighing into the knuckles pressed into his cheek. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Ichika raised a brow. "A little... Something on your mind?"

He mulled over his thoughts, busying his lips with slow sips through his straw. Finally, he began, "I've been thinking… about what happens now. What happens next? I don't know how to put it exactly, but I guess these past few months, I've always been thinking about one thing…" He reached over, feeling the thin lengths of her fingers against his palm. His thumb ran over the fine metal band on her ring finger, and to the tiny gemstone that fitted on top. "… proposing."

With all of her heart, Ichika listened.

"I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it exactly the way I imagined it, and it did. You said yes and we're engaged. Don't get me wrong, I am completely ecstatic. There is nothing that would have made me happier. It's been less than twenty-four hours, but I can't help but ask myself 'what happens next?'"

"Well, we get married, right?" Ichika partly smirked, if only to lighten the mood a little. It managed to work in a way, as Fuutarou warmly smiled her way.

"Of course. We are going to get married." The words felt foreign to his tongue that he had to repeat it once more. "We are going to get married. Husband and wife."

"Don't keep saying it like that. You'll get me embarrassed, too."

Fuutarou laughed. "Sorry. You see, when I was younger, I always wondered something. It was about my mom and my dad." He paused to collect his thoughts. "They were always the mushy type. My dad would always do these… little things that made my mom happy, like coming home with all these flowers on days where he felt like it. She always looked… so delighted every time. She really loved those flowers. Even when she was sick, he always surprised her with some whenever we visited. And…"

Ichika tightly held onto his hand. "It's okay, Fuutarou-kun. You can pause for a bit if you need to."

Without realizing it, a heaviness had gathered at the back of his throat. "Thanks. Though, I think I'll be fine." He shook any doubts from his mind, then continued. "I never realized it at the time, but it must have taken everything for my dad to keep himself together. I think that's when he started telling me something. He always told me to 'become a man who can devote himself to loving one woman for the rest of his life.'" He quietly sighed. "I've never said the words myself, so all I can picture right now is my old man's face. But I guess that was his way of making sure that was drilled into my head. I do love you, Ichika. I always will. And I want to stay by your side."

"Fuutarou-kun…" Ichika rested her other hand over his. "And I feel the exact same way. But why does it still look like something is bothering you?"

He nodded. "I guess a small part of me thought that was all there was to it. Propose, get married, and live a long, happy life together. But now that it's happened, I realize that… marriage is just one of many other beginnings. Our lives have so many more beginnings to discover; we've barely scratched surface. And when I think about the rest of it…" Fuutarou gazed out the window—to the first signs of spring. To where the sway of the cherry blossoms was replaced by the tall lengths of palm trees across a cloudless, azure sky. "Aren't you a lot happier here? In California?"

Ichika looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

Outside the window, a nearby bus had stopped to pick up passengers. Across its side was a long, horizontal advertisement. High-class jewelry, from rings, to necklaces, to earrings—showcased on a model with hair short enough so that her nape was visible and that the jewelry took center stage. As an actress and as a photography model, Nakano Ichika was the star to many eyes.

"You've got a future here," continued Fuutarou. "You've got fans that will flock to you. You've starred in so many roles, and you're more popular than you've ever been before. Ichika, you're thriving. Compared to the struggles and scrutiny you faced in Japan, life here seems made for you. I can't ask you to trade that all away."

For some time, Ichika was silent. Then she slowly nodded her head. "I understand. I knew this was something we had to talk about, but I never thought it's been lingering on your mind for this long. Though, let me ask you…" She looked at him in the eyes, to where there was room for nothing else but honesty. "Do you really think I'd be happier here?"

"I… I don't know. I know it's all in the past, but I can't shake the feeling that you've already sacrificed so much for us. The dating scandal was already too much for you. Would it not be me doing the same thing by asking you to settle back in Japan with me?"

"Then… what do you suggest that we do?" she asked. "What? Will you move to America too?" She forced a chuckle, but the silence she was met with imediately concerned her.

Slowly, Fuutarou nodded. "Would you like m—"

"Hold on, hold on!" Ichika interrupted with quick waves of both of her hands. "I was only joking about that! You can't seriously be making that kind of decision now. That's a huge choice!"

"I told you; I've been thinking about it."

"But what about your scholarship that you worked so hard for? And… and, your family, and the future arrangements you made with my father? You know, for your career as a doctor? You'd be giving that up too, Fuutarou-kun."

"Two years was long enough," he answered flatly. "Sorry for sounding blunt there. But for these past two years, I've been missing you like crazy. I want to be with you every single day that I can, and if it means making this kind of a decision, then I will. I can transfer. I can get into school here—they've got some of the best medical schools in the entire world. We can find a place here instead. And I can even try to take up residency—"

"You're rambling again." Ichika interrupted him by placing a hand over his mouth. "Seriously, what is with you and over-thinking everything? It hasn't gotten any better than when we first started dating."

"I'm just trying to compromise," he said, muffled.

Ichika sighed, then pulled her hand away. "Look. You've got it all wrong. Like, so, SO wrong that I'm starting to question if I'm even speaking to the right guy. Just calm down for a bit, okay? Just a little?"

As if the idea were foreign to him, eventually, Fuutarou nodded.

"Great." She grinned,, settling herself back into her seat. Her hands ran over the soft wool of her sweater dress, before looking back to Fuutarou. "Hey, I have a favor to ask from you, Fuutarou-kun. Do you know that nightstand on the side of my bed? The one nearest to the window?"

"I think so…? What about it?"

"There's a drawer there that has a few of the papers I keep for work. You might have to do a little bit of digging, but there should be an envelope in there that's addressed to Oda Talent Productions. It's the only one written in Japanese, so I'm sure you'll find it. If you wouldn't mind, could you deliver it for me when you get back home?"

"'Oda Talent Productions'…?" Fuutarou repeated. "Isn't that the name of—"

"My previous talent agency, yes," Ichika finished for him as she finished the last sips of her coffee. "It's a job application. I started filling it out last week."

Fuutarou raised a brow. "A job application? Why would you—" His eyes widened, looking as if he could jump out of his chair that very second. "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Ichika winked. "This trip has been fun, but I think it's gone long enough. It's time for me to come home—and for Nakano Ichika to make a comeback."

Author's Note

Annnnd we're back!

It feels GOOD to be writing pure Ichika and Fuutarou chapters again! This is where I feel like I am in my element, and as you can tell from the ending of this chapter, there will be much more of it to come! Ichika is coming home!

Now, for a few quick things I want to get out of the way first. As readers are probably aware now, Everything has officially crossed its three out of four years that I had originally planned on covering. That effectively makes this story at least 75% complete. And now, I think it's safe to say that my outline for the rest of this story has all fallen into place, so I can comfortable say one thing—

Everything will have five more chapters left until it is officially completed.

Woo! It feels completely different to type that out. I had to stop myself for a bit. Wow. I'm almost finishing my first ever story, and an ending is finally in sight. It's been an absolute pleasure writing this story, and I hope those who have stayed with me this far will continue to do so until the very end :)

And because an end is now officially stated, I will also say that this will be the end of monthly updates. A little more time to get things done with each release, now that an end is in sight. My life has gotten a lot busier these past few months, and it's been a little tougher to sit down and type away into the late hours of the night. The last thing I'd want to do is to rush the ending of a fanfic to a series that (in my opinion) rushed its own ending which was one of main reasons WHY I wrote this fanfic LOL. Either way, expect them to come when they come, but ultimately, I want to finish this story this year.

Anyways, thanks to those who left reviews on Chapter 23 and any recent chapters. I was a little slow getting back to some of these since I took a short break, so sorry for the delay! Thank you to— Dangal, codywhite, JNTF1QQ, Fox McCloude, Kuroyuki42 , Quintaphract, chloetuco, Miimbot, Thien Truong (x4), TheMist33, XGoGame (x2), segft and any other guest review(s)! Thanks also to the reddit commenters—Small_Ruin_648, chloetuco, Nekunutz, and Destinedtobefaytful

_φ(。。) "No little rambles this time. Head empty; Life good!"