Chapter 26 — In August

Farewells to a spring left behind. Passing of seasons, met twice along two shorelines. Two shades strewn within the leaves and branches; two airs breathed between tired lips. For them, the differences could be endless, and it was not until they stepped foot back onto the familiar soil of home could they notice just how right the air could taste, or how right the wind could feel on their backs. After all, there was only one place they could call home, and spring was just never the same anywhere else. In those wistful hours, they all had said farewell to one unforgettable spring, letting the last memories fade along the white tail of a contrail.

And for the one left behind, she would stare. From the illustrious white streaks that marked the clouds, until all it dimmed to the faintest gray, the one left behind would stare with longing, sighing, if only to ease the tensions that festered in her heart. For a little longer, Nakano Ichika remained here. She must stay here, for the young actress had a little more left unfinished on this stage before setting her sights on another.

Count the days; count the nights. In April, she graced the cameras once more with her performance, just as she had done many times before, and as she will time and time again. She appeared as a supporting character,'Ruby Chang', an Asian American transfer student in the sitcom, "The Ladies Dorm", who stirred the love affair between one of the leading actresses and her recently broken-up-with boyfriend. In between sets, Ichika underwent a strict training regimen for her role as a 'Samantha', one of the main rival boxing antagonists in the movie, "Boxed Out!", directed by one of Hollywood's most renowned directors. As it so happened, the director believed that his stars should go through the same intense training that real boxers went through to perfect his film, and Ichika had never felt more exhausted than the night after finishing her last scene.

In May, she left a song. Her first and only single from her stay in America—a sole product from her years of vocal training and language study. A tune of two tongues, both English and Japanese lyrics deftly weaved like the phonetics were already familiar. Titled, "Colors Of My Journey", she sang the words most honest to her heart—of the newly painted world that sprang in her eyes, and of the longing she felt for her home and her loved ones who waited for at the end of her long journey . For her first ever song, it performed fairly well—more so than she or her colleagues ever thought it would for something deemed as a small side project. And though it may have lost its time in the limelight, her sisters and fiancé back overseas would never tire with parroting the lyrics back at her, even if it were only to make her fluster.

In June, she appeared on the front cover of a swimsuit magazine. Her figure flaunted the printed pages, inviting all guilty and admiring gazes to the heat of another California Summer. Land at the beach with a splash with a crochet bikini top for $75, or draw everyone's eyes to one of the many other pieces of the summer collection, starting as low as $40. Truthfully, Ichika had never seen the final product that made it to the store shelves—that was, until she received an earful from her friend, Erika, one day about how she found her younger brother hanging up cutouts and full-sized posters of Ichika all over his room.

And in July—the very last weekend of July—Ichika stood at the curbside drop off of the Los Angeles International Airport, carry-on in tow. She tilted the darkened shades of her sunglasses to make out the bags being unloaded by the chauffeur, smiling and nodding as she said, "Thank you so much, Paul."

"Certainly, Miss Nakano," the tall, suited man replied with a tip of his cap. "Wait here one moment. I shall get a trolley for your bags."

"I appreciate it." She sighed, fixing the tartan blazer that draped over her shoulders. Overhead, the blare of a jet engine overwhelmed the airport entryway, and she tilted her sunglasses back over her eyes as she watched the plane take flight. She took a deep breath, then sighed.

"Looks like it's finally time, huh?" The thud of block heels trod beside her, rearing from the street side door of the cab. "Two years really does just fly by."

Ichika nodded. "Thanks again for seeing me off, Erika."

"You know I wouldn't miss this for the world, girl. Now, I know it's a little late to be asking this and all, but are you sure you're alright with this? I mean, things are only going to get better here for you and—"

"Yes, I am sure, Erika. It's been the same answer as every other time. You should already—"

"I know, I know." Erika shrugged. "It's just that, you know, the chairman would have my head if I didn't try just one last time to get you to stay."

"The chairman again? I already declined his offer last week."

"It's just not just the chairman either. There were so many people asking about you at the premiere party last weekend, but since you were a no-show, and since you no longer have an agent, they ended up asking me instead. You remember Director Bennett, right? Yeah, the Bennett. Well, his casting director was the one who was asking, but still, you get the point. And don't get me started on all the others practically begging you to stay. You're lucky your flight info wasn't leaked."

"You're exaggerating, Erika."

"No, I'm serious! Pretty much everyone wants to keep that pretty face of yours here." Erika flourished the tips of her fingers over her chest, as if struck with a wound that would never heal. "You just keep breaking hearts on your way out, don't you?"

Ichika chuckled. "Well, tell them I give my sincerest apologies, but the answer is still no."

"I can respect that." Though, you mind if I be honest for a sec?"

"Go ahead."

"Mm…" Her friend hummed, thinking over the words carefully. "Well, how should I put it… you know it's like how…"

"You're thinking that it might be a bad move, too?" Ichika asked. "Leaving here, I mean."

She nodded. "I wouldn't say a 'bad move' really. But it is a risky move. Look." Erika put a hand on her hip, sighing. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but most people would kill to make it big out here, and you already know how tough it is out there to be an actress. Hell, after I dropped out of high school, I was stuck as a waitress for a few years before landing my big break. You'd practically be starting all over again if you go back." Again, Erika shrugged. "I just feel like it's my job as your friend to be real with you. Are you sure you're okay with all of that? Like, totally okay?"

Ichika stood in quiet thought, leaning against one of the concrete dividers. True, it was not too late to make the call—to turn back to the realm of stars and stardom, where every name was a connection and every phone call could change lives. She knew well enough. To some, it could be a dreamland of lights, cameras, and action. To grace the screen and have your name accompanied by applause. And all the same, it could be the graveyard of the once brightest dreams, snuffed out like the pen across their names. If the ghosts of every failed actor and actress loomed over her like the shadow of another passing plane, they too, would surely condemn her. It was the bitterness and anguish that lived in the behind every shining star. Every phone that never rang, every bite behind critique, and every paycheck that would only last until the next.

Again, she already knew. She knew that talent bloomed in many corners of the world, nurtured line after line, waiting for the spotlight to give them just one chance. Only a fool would throw away their shot. An even bigger fool would throw away the chances she had already received. However, in these twenty-one years she called her life, Ichika was no stranger to the idea of being considered a fool.

"More sure than anything." Ichika smiled. "My mind was set since I first boarded that flight. No matter how idiotic it may sound, I made a promise to everyone back home—and to myself as well. I've had my fun here."

Erika laughed. It would take another actress to pick apart an actress's genuine smile compared to the ones for the cameras, and there was no second guessing the woman in front of her. "Well, then that is that." She held out her hand. "And also as your friend, it's my job to root for you, whether you're here or in good ol' Nippon. Break a leg over, alright, girl? Ah, what the hell am I saying—come here!" She pulled on Ichika's already outstretched hand, then brought her in for a long and powerful hug.

"Ack!" Ichika managed to squeeze out of her lungs. "Erika! Too tight!"

"Just bear with it a little longer! Come on, you can take it!"

"Eri…ka!"

With their final farewells, Ichika then proceeded through the airport terminal, carry-on luggage in tow. She had gone through the steady madness that was the Los Angeles International Airport enough times that even as a recognizable actress, Ichika could easily slip along the stream of moving bodies and make her way to her boarding terminal. To her surprise, the security check agent had recognized the young actress when she was asked to present her passport, and Ichika had to deftly motion to him not to speak too loudly. Besides that one close call, Ichika had finally found herself a moment's rest at the airport terminal cafe, watching the minutes countdown until boarding call.

One hour and forty-six minutes. She thought to herself how funny it had all been. Two years ago, that version of herself seemed so young and naïve when she had stepped through these very gates. She remembered the brief panics spent searching translations on her phone, and scrolling through maps. She remembered her first broken conversation with a cab driver, and the countless times she had gotten lost in the city. Now, as she fixed the shades over her eyes and the scarf around her neck, Ichika could not help but feel quite proud of herself and at the idea of being recognized in public. In her time in America, she had starred in three films, been featured in seven films, guest-starred in five television shows, held minor roles in six more shows, voice-acted in two films, performed in one theater performances, released one single, had eleven interviews across different media platforms, had her own small fanclub and a Wikipedia page created for her.

And after tallying the many faces she wore, it all only gathered to one long, cathartic sigh as she sipped her coffee, watching the endless blue sky from the window.

"I'm coming back, Japan."

By now, he must have read the screen over a hundred times. Row after row of scheduled flights, stacked in the same sequence they had been since he first stepped foot at the passenger arrival gates, and no pacing back and forth could make the schedule move any faster. How many times had he glanced at flight ANA 105, doubting the truth in the bold characters that plainly stated, 'Arrived'? He had given them the better of two whole minutes before his impatience found its way to mutters under his breath. Every nameless face that emerged through those gates was just another person slowing down Ichika's arrival, and at some point, Fuutarou must have realized that his feelings of disdain were a little too pronounced across his face.

Patience, patience. The thought repeated over and over in his head, as if he needed to scold himself. There was no reason to take his frustrations out on the passing family of three and the confused little boy who wondered why this scary-looking Japanese man was leaning so close over the handrails. Fuutarou sighed. He had hoped that Ichika would have scheduled a more convenient flight back home, as the arrival lobby had gathered to its peak. Bumped shoulder-to-shoulder, and shuffled wherever a wheeled luggage needed to make its way through.

"Sir, please don't crowd the exit." An airport security member gestured him to step aside. "The passengers need to get through."

"Sorry," replied Fuutarou.

"If you're waiting for a passenger, please be patient. They'll come. The plane has only just landed."

"Yes, I am sorry. I'll—"

"Please understand and wait in the correct area, sir. You cannot stand here."

"I—I know. I was already—" Fuutarou tried to explain, but they had already turned away. He rolled his eyes and scooted back to someplace he could see the remaining passengers. Just as he did, he felt a tap at his shoulder. His expression brightened as he turned. "Ichi—"

But what he heard instead was broad and brusque voice, reciting in poor Japanese, "Hey, hey, Takashi!" Long time no see! How have you been, man?"

"Hu… huh?" Fuutarou blinked. He looked to his sides, wondering who the stranger dressed in a bright floral t-shirt and cargo shorts was speaking to. "Are you talking to me?"

"Come on man, it's me! Tristan! What are you even say—" He paused, taking a good look at Fuutarou's face, and in English, he said, "Oh, oops. Sorry, I got the wrong person. My bad. Uh, I mean—'gomennasai.'"

The foreigner ducked away, and before Fuutarou could recover the confused tilt of his brow, there was another nudge at his shoulder. This time, he hardly had the time for false assumptions, as the voice had come from an older woman, holding up her smart phone near his face.

"Excuse me, young man," she said. "I'm looking for this gate here, but I cannot find it. Do you know where it is? Do you speak English?"

For reasons unknown to him, Fuutarou answered, "Uh… I can speak a little."

She held her smart phone up towards his face. "Do you know where this gate is? I've been looking for it and I cannot find it."

"Umm… you are in'Arrivals' section, ma'am. 'Departures' section over there."

"Huh? Which department? Department for what? I am running late and I am looking for—"

"Departures," he repeated, slowly this time, then pointed to the opposite end of the airport. "De-part-ures. It is over there."

The lady nodded, and without saying 'thank you,' she reached down and tugged her luggage down the hallway, disappearing into the crowded stream of people. And of course, Fuutarou could not even finish his sigh before being called upon again.

"Excuse me," a man in a suit leaned over, speaking perfect Japanese. "Do you know which way baggage claim is?"

Fuutarou pointed to the very obvious sign a few steps away from them, complete with a big and bold arrow pointed left. "It is that way." He did not even wait for the man and his possible gratitude—he simply wanted to return to his spot near the arriving passengers of flight ANA 105. He wanted to be the first face that Ichika saw when she stepped through that gate, and the last thing he needed was another distract—

"Hello?" asked a voice in English.

Fuutarou reluctantly turned his eyes away from the arrivals, already fighting back the groan building in his throat. "I am sorry, I—"

And just as there was enough space to bury herself into his torso, Fuutarou felt every one of his senses pick up on the familiar pieces that stained his hopes and desires for the past months. He remembered that assortment of the sweetest and most decadent scents that warmed at the sides of her neck. Vanilla, white amber, and praline—enough to intoxicate him.

She was there. Buried right there in his arms, the coat around her shoulders still swaying as she ran into him, every part impatient as he was. The brim of her hat smooshed against his chest, slipped every so slightly further to reveal more of her short, pink hair underneath. As she slowly looked up to him, Fuutarou could finally see the faint marine blue that drowned in her eyes. And with a smirk, she said, "Tadaima, Fuutarou-kun. I missed you."

He never learned. Every time, she would always manage to surprise him, and the first words that would leave his mouth would ten at once, met like a car crash between his lips. "I—ah, Ichi—Hu—huh? Wah— when did—"

The smirk on her lips grew wider, but she spared him the few seconds to bring his mind back together. After all, that look on his face was something she treasured more than anything else. And finally, Fuutarou chuckled. "Okaeri, Ichika. I missed you too."

He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and she returned it right back. "Sorry, I wasn't there to greet you right away," said Fuutarou, reaching over to help with her carry-on luggage. "I wasn't expecting you to get off so soon."

"First class tends to get out quicker," Ichika replied. "And thanks for helping with my bags."

"First class… right…" Fuutarou rolled his eyes. "I almost forgot. Must be nice."

"Hmm? Didn't you travel with my sisters when you visited? I thought it was all the same "

"For your sisters, sure. Your father… well, he had arranged economy for me. Sorry, I meant economy premium."

"Pft!" Ichika fought the urge to burst out laughing. "He did?! I'm sorry, but that's so funny! I've never taken dad to be the petty type, but I guess he still needs some time to get used to you. It's already been four years."

"Not that I can complain." Fuutarou shrugged. "Asking for his blessings already felt like too much. I'm thankful that he even offered to pay for my ticket in the first place. He's a great guy, really, even if he still terrifies me."

"The two of you are so silly sometimes. When will you both learn that the other is harmless?" Ichika giggled. They made their way through the airport, heading towards the baggage claim area. All the while, Ichika strolled down the walkway with an occasional, joyous sway to her steps. After all, being stuck to a seat for over eleven hours did poor things for her muscles, and she let out as much of her weariness as she could in one long sigh. "Ahh! It's so good to be back in Japan! For good this time."

"You've got a lot of energy, Ichika," Fuutarou remarked.

Ichika checked one of the two dials on her wristwatch. "It's hardly eighty p.m. back in California. Besides, I slept plenty on the plane. Though, I'll probably crash the second I get home. Oh, by the way, Fuutarou-kun."

"Hmm?"

"Do I sound any different to you?"

"Different how?"

"Like, do I say things differently than you remember?" Ichika rested her chin on her knuckle. "I'm not sure. Erika mentioned that there's a pretty big difference between the way American Japanese and native Japanese people speak. It's been a long time since I've been able to speak this much Japanese, so I'm a little worried that the girls back home might think I've picked up something."

"Hmm…" Fuutarou thought it over. "I don't hear anything different. Why? Do you think it's changed?"

"Well, Nino made a comment a few weeks ago that I was starting to develop a 'Valley Girl' accent after being in California for so long. She said she was joking, but when I told it to one of my friends in America, she said she could kind of hear it too."

"'Valley Girl'?" Fuutarou raised a brow. "What does that even mean?"

"It's like… hmm… it's when you stretch certain parts of a word, and it kind of ends in a question like this?" Ichika exaggerated a bit of the pronunciation, but was not quite sure she was delivering the idea clearly. "Do you get what I mean?"

"Hmm… no, I don't get it. You sound the same to me."

"Well, it's—you know what, never mind." Ichika shrugged. "It might not sound as obvious to you, since we talk on the phone every day. I'm just a little worried if it's starting to slip into my Japanese. My friend said it was because of my'intonation'."

"Ahem, Ichika," a voice came from beside her. "It's 'in-tow-nei-shn'"

Ichika smiled, already knowing before she turned around. "Haha, you sure are strict now, aren't you, Itsuki-chan?"

The girl in glasses stepped closer, rolling two large suitcases by her sides. "Well, I am a teacher, after all. Welcome home, Ichika." She opened her arms to welcome her oldest sister. Her embrace was as tight and overbearing as Itsuki had always remembered, including every overdue hug the past half-year warranted.

"I'm so proud of you!" Ichika said with a low squeal in her voice. "Ah, I wish I could have been here when you got your certificate. Please, please, please forgive your big sister for being so awful."

"I told you it was fine, Ichika! Really!" Itsuki said between jerks of her torso. "I went ahead and got your luggage for you. I see you remembered to use those luggage tags Raiha-chan and I made for you."

"Of course I did. They are just perfect for me. Thanks again. Oh, Fuutarou-kun, do you think you could be a dear and help Itsuki-chan with my bags?"

There was a short pause, and Fuutarou briefly cleared his throat. "Ye… yeah, sure. I'll do that."

"Hmm?"

Ichika raised a brow as she watched her partner awkwardly shuffle over. There was something odd in the way Fuutarou approached Itsuki, neither of them hiding the sudden turn of their noses towards one another. When Fuutarou reached for one of the bags Itsuki was wheeling over, the youngest sister had let go of the handle, as if reeling away from a pest. The thirty-two kilogram luggage bumped into Fuutarou, and Itsuki left with a short, "Hmph," under her breath.

"Oi," Fuutarou grumbled, speaking in a low voice. "I thought we were dropping th—"

Itsuki ignored him. "I'll go and bring the car around, Ichika. Give me a few minutes." Without waiting, the youngest Nakano sister walked off, the first few steps sounding a little heavier.

"Yikes…" Ichika glanced over. "You two get into a fight or something?"

"You try being stuck in traffic with such a—". He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Forget it. It's nothing."

Ichika chuckled, taking the smaller luggage's handle for herself. "Some things just never change for you two, huh? Come on, tell me what happened. The last thing I'd want right now is an awkward car ride home."

After a few moments to mull it over, Fuutarou sighed. "It's really nothing. Do you remember those things I gave the five of you back in high school? When we graduated?"

"Umm…" Ichika thought a moment. "Something you gave us? Can you be a little more speci—oh! You mean those graduation certificates?"

"Yeah, those. It was a long time ago—over three years by now—and to be honest, I had kind of forgotten about them. Do you still have yours?"

"It should still be in my room here; I didn't take it with me to America."

"So it's lost forever now, got it."

"Hey!" She bumped him with her shoulder.

"I'm joking. Anyway, yeah, it was a long time ago. It sort of… slipped my mind that Itsuki declined it at the time."

Ichika nodded. "It's coming back to me now. I do remember, yeah. She said that there was still more she could learn from you about being a good teacher. I guess she really does look up to you."

Hearing that last statement made the look on Fuutarou's face fall a little further. "Right…"

"Ah… I think I get it now. You lost it."

"That—I mean, not exactly…" He told Ichika about their short quarrel. In essence, Itsuki had finally received her teaching certificate after years of hard work, in which Fuutarou had played a decent role in. He told her about the many times Itsuki would come up to him with questions regarding some of her students, how to reach out to the more problematic ones, and how important it was that a teacher find their own style of teaching that best resonated themselves with their students. He learned things about himself as a tutor that he himself did not know until he said it out loud. And that was one of the points where Fuutarou felt like he could relate to Itsuki, even if the two of them would devolve into arguments after a certain amount of time was spent in their conversation.

Then came this very day. Somewhere during the long two-or-so hours spent stuck in the monotony of rush hour traffic, Fuutarou was surprised when Itsuki professed that she felt that she was finally ready to receive his acknowledgment after all this time. "It took me a while," Itsuki had said earlier that morning, "but I think I've finally found my place as a teacher. I know I can't be exactly like my mother, and that's just fine. My only regret is that she won't be able to receive her acknowledgment. She was the most important teacher to me, but after her, the next person I look up to would have to be…"

When the traffic had reached yet another stall, the youngest quintuplet had then turned towards Fuutarou in the passenger seat, brimming with a smile that, incidentally, made his blood run cold."… sorry for all the trouble, but I believe I am ready to accept your gift now, Uesugi-kun."

Fuutarou did not know why he did it. Perhaps it was that pure innocence and bliss behind that smile that stripped away any hopes he had of lying, bluffing, suspending, or anything in between, but he felt as if his body was utterly compelled to say the next words so plainly and so honestly, "I…" A drop of sweat formed at his brow."I forgot where I put that…"

In the present time, Ichika, sat on the handle side of her luggage, listening over Fuutarou's recount of the story. "So…" she began with a single slow nod, "you did lose it."

Fuutarou cleared his throat. "It's not certain yet! I'm sure it's there somewhere. There were a lot of things going on at the time, and plus, I've mostly been in Tokyo for most of the past three years! I even asked Raiha to take a look around for it."

"Did you at least apologize to her?"

"I tried, but—"

"Like a genuine, honest-to-goodness apology, Fuutaoru-kun? With no excuses?" Ichika jabbed a finger at his cheek. "Mmm… I thought so. I know how you two are like, after all. Itsuki-chan will come around if you're gentle with her." She shook her head. "Honestly, why is it so hard for you to say to her exactly what you said to me just now? You both are just so stubborn. I'll see what I can do about it, okay? But you have to own up to her."

Fuutarou sighed. "You're right. Sorry. I didn't want you to deal with this after coming back from such a long flight."

"That's what big sister Ichika does!" Ichika winked. "Ah, I think that's Itsuki-chan calling right now. Looks like she'll be outside soon."

At the parting of the automatic doorway, Ichika had finally savored the crisp air of the late spring. The air welcomed her, as if the world held her by the hand and accompanied each step she took outside, like the sounds of concrete against her heels were just as grand as the filament of a red carpet. A gentle breeze weaved its way through the underpass, whispering every feeling of the words, 'welcome home,' as it lifted the ends of her hair, and the young actress smiled back.

For a while longer, she savored it. She captured every sight, sound, scent, and taste that lingered in the wind. There would undoubtedly be countless more times where she would step through these gates again—where she would see more of the world and perform in many different stages—but nothing could quite capture the tranquility of truly returning home for good.

She would savor it, for it was not long after entering the freeway that the car ride turned to the familiar bickering of home.

"You told her already, Uesugi-kun?" Itsuki glared at her rear-view mirror just in time to catch the roll of Fuutarou's eyes.

"It's not like you were subtle about it, Itsuki," Fuutarou retorted. "And I still think you're making a big deal out of it. I already said I was sorry."

"You call that an apology? Of all the…" She snuck a glance at Ichika, then back to the road ahead of her. Briefly, she could tell that her older sister looked surprisingly calm, almost as if she could fall asleep with a smile on her face amidst their bantering. "Ichika, what exactly did he tell you? Did he exaggerate any details?"

"No, no. I think it was all pretty objective," said Ichika. "I get what's going on. Look, Itsuki-chan, Fuutarou-kun knows he screwed up this time. I don't know every detail, but I think you both have had enough time to cool off now. How about we just try again, hmm? Maybe hear Fuutarou-kun out one more time?"

Itsuki thought for a moment, then sighed. "You're right, Ichika. Sorry, I shouldn't be like this when you only just got back. I suppose I was being a little… irritable, now that I think it over."

"It's no big deal. Traffic can drive me crazy too, believe me." Ichika laughed. "I sort of expected this kind of thing to happen when I found out that only you two were coming to pick me up."

Once there was a short pause, Fuutarou finally cleared his throat. "Thanks for that, Ichika. You were right; I wasn't really being fair this entire time. So uh… Itsuki."

"Yes?" Itsuki replied, still not taking her eyes off the road.

"I owe you an apology. I am sorry, and I really mean it." Fuutarou mumbled to himself, tripping over the start of a few words before continuing, "I should have known how much it meant to you, and brushing it off like that just wasn't fair to you."

"It's… alright, Uesugi-kun. I shouldn't have made a big deal about it." She lightly chuckled to herself. "After all, it's just a piece of paper, right?"

"Yeah, but still..." Fuutarou leaned back against his chair. "I owe it to you to find it. In fact, when I get back home, I'll turn the whole place over until I find it. I'm sure it was—" He stopped at the buzz from his pocket. His cellphone. He answered it. "Hello, Raiha-chan? No, we're not. Yeah, we already picked her up; she's in the car with us right now."

"Raiha-chan is calling?" Ichika looked back.

Her voice was muffled from the speaker of his phone, but Ichika could faintly make out the words Raiha was saying from th speaker. "Is that Big Sis Ichika I hear in the background? Put me on speaker! I want to say hello!"

"Ichika," said Fuutarou. "Raiha says she wants to—"

"I heard her," Ichika answered. "Go on ahead and put her on speakerphone. Hello? Raiha-chan?"

"Big Sis Ichika!" a much more audible and cheerful voice blasted from the speakers. "Welcome back! Did you have a good flight?"

"I did; thanks for asking. And it's so good to be back. How is working under Nino and Miku?"

"They're amazing! They're such good bosses that I get kind of bored on days I'm not working. Is Big Sis Itsuki there too?"

"She is, but she's driving right now."

"Hello Raiha-chan," Itsuki leaned over to speak into the phone. "Don't overwork yourself. You don't want to end up like your brother."

"Hey," Fuutarou glared at her through the rear-view mirror, and the quintuplet stuck a tongue out at him. He returned his attention back to the phone. "Anways, Raiha-chan, was there something you were calling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Right. Sorry, I almost forgot. I found that thing you told me to look for!"

"That thing?"

"Yeah, remember? Something you hand wrote and put inside a frame? Well, I found it! It was tucked pretty far in the closet, underneath a lot of your old school stuff. There were so many heavy things I had to dig out just to get it. Though, it's super dusty, and the frame is pretty beat up. There's also this tiny crack in the corner. Big Bro, I thought you said this was important. You should take better care of it if that's the case!"

Fuutarou sucked in his breath. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the white of Itsuki's knuckles over the steering wheel. His mind raced over countless things he could try to say—anything he could say—but all that escaped his already opened mouth was a low, "Uhh…"

"Hello? Big Bro? You still there?"

"He might have to call you back, Raiha-chan," answered Ichika.

"Do not ever speak to me again, Uesugi-kun."

"Ahaha, it's good to be home."

On the streetside, set in the shadows of the tall buildings that surrounded them, they stood facing the wide, automatic glass doors just above a few wide steps of artisan stone. Ginkgo trees embedded in margined square tiles at the front, still lush with its green leaves in August. The building stacked rows of manshon condominiums, closed with teal-tinted glass on the outside. The lobby was visible from where they stood, its cocoa brown and beige accents lit by amber wall scones.

The wheels of Ichika's luggage came to a slow stop as it rolled over the concrete. "This is the place, huh?"

"Sixth floor, second room from the furthest." Fuutarou took his place beside her. "It's nothing like your castle back in America, or even back at Tokai, but it's got a good view of Tokyo from the patio, and the station isn't too far, either."

"I love it." Ichika breathed out, forgetting the last few. "I really do! I just can't believe it. It feels so…"

"Save it for when you see inside." Fuutarou held up a small envelope. Inside was the second of two keycards marked with a room number.

Ichika took it, caressing the firm plastic between her thumb and palm. Another key card, just like the many that she had held before in her life. Many places that she once called her home, twined with the many bundles of memories that made up the woman she recognized within the puddles of the after-rain. Those doors that once welcomed her to ephemeral walls, and in turn, set her soul as free as the wind that carried her. She remembered how cold the room felt on nights their mother came home late, and how frightened they were of the bugs that crawled through the door. She remembered rushing to see the view from the Pentagon balcony the day Maruo first let them inside. She remembered the humble, paper-thin walls that made their first apartment under their name, and she remembered the pure blue of the ocean that stretched far into the horizon from a place further from her world.

All places she once called home, but knew would never last.

But here, one hand clasped over the four plastic corners that made yet another home, and one hand clasped between her partner, Ichika could catch sight of her future. A new place to call home, except this time, she wished to make it last as long as possible. Forever even, if everything she needed was still behind that door.

She took another long breath, reminding herself that there was still more to be done. "Thanks again for driving, Itsuki. Are you sure it wasn't too much?"

"Not at all, Ichika." Her sister smiled, offering one more hug. "I'll be heading back to my hotel, and are we still on for brunch tomorrow before I head back home?"

"Of course! You and I have so much to catch up on."

"Are you sure you won't be jet-lagged?"

"I'll set five alarms just in case. Besides, I have Fuutarou-kun here to make extra sure that I'm up and awake, right?"

Fuutarou nodded. "Right. And umm… Itsuki, again, I am…"

"Its alright, Uesugi-kun." Itsuki sighed. "It's been a long day, and I don't have any more energy to argue with you. Raiha-chan and I will fix it up, so you don't have to worry about a thing."

"Then, all that's left for me to say is thank you, Itsuki." Fuutarou scratched the back of his head. "So… I guess we'll be seeing you next week? We should be all settled by then."

She nodded back. "Yes, expect all of us to drive back up here. They've been texting the entire day; they really can't wait to see you—and the new place too." Itsuki shielded the sun from her eyes as she looked upward towards the building. "Congratulations, you two. Take care."

They parted ways, and after a short moment to gather themselves, Ichika and Fuutarou stepped forward. Through the lobby that smelled faintly of sandalwood and lavender, past a rock garden and the exit way to a neatly maintained courtyard, and ascended six floors upward through the elevator, the two found themselves standing outside the door to their new apartment. Fuutarou allowed Ichika the honors, and with a tap to her card, she finally stepped in.

First to her notice was the resounding step of her heel as she first entered. Bouncing across the walls and down the narrow halls, it echoed throughout the empty apartment. Tidy wooden floors, empty countertops. Walls without portraits and closets that hung no clothes. A clean slate. A canvas to call their own.

Familiar looking boxes stacked against the wall in the far side of the living room. "The rest of your things should be here by tomorrow," Fuutarou pointed out as they entered. He took the first couple of steps in, gesturing towards Ichika with both arms outstretched. "Well, what do you think? Not too bad-looking from inside, huh? Between the two of us, I think it''ll be just right."

Ichika nodded, a little more excitedly than she had led on, as she continued to look through the room. It was not as if there was much to look at within an empty room, but she must have slowly spun on her heel twice, thrice, and now four times, imagining every countless possibility. "It's perfect, Fuutarou-kun. It's more than enough, and it's all ours. I really can't thank you enough for going through with this."

"Thank your dad too for helping me look for the place. Well, all he did was introduce me to the right agency, but I wouldn't have gotten the place without his help."

"I'll be sure to." Ichika strolled to the kitchen area, gliding her fingertips across the marble countertop. "The kitchen is a lot roomier than your last place. Look, we can start fixing up our meals right here; no need to keep resorting to take out all the time."

"I think you're talking about yourself, Ichika." Fuutarou chuckled and went to the end opposite of the counter. He gestured to the open, empty space beside him. "And what do you think? We could set up our dining table somewhere around here. We could have coffee together in the mornings, too."

"That sounds perfect. Oh, but we'd need more room for the table."

"Just how much room do you think we'll need?"

"Enough to fit four other people—no, wait, maybe more! In case Raiha-chan decides to visit, too."

"Are you seriously planning like you still live with all your sisters?"

"Hey, you never know when they could visit!"

Fuutarou playfully rolled his eyes, but gave up on such pointless banter. Perhaps it was not a bad idea to keep some extra room, just in case. He turned their attention to the opposite end of the room. "We can get a couch like the one you have back at your sisters' apartment right here, and a TV too."

"Oh, absolutely; a couch is essential!" Ichika eagerly leaned over the counter. "Let's get something nice and comfy, in case I want to fall asleep on it."

"A bed wouldn't be too far though. The bedroom is right over there."

"You wouldn't get it. Falling asleep on the couch is one of life's greatest pleasures. Especially to the sound of your favorite shows in the background, and after a long, tiring day…"

"That's sounds like something an old man would say."

"Or it can be your place to sleep if you misbehave, Fuutarou-kun." Ichika gave a devilish smirk. "Maybe then you wouldn't be complaining."

He lifted his hands, then laughed. "Noted."

Corner to corner, they brought their daydreams with them. A private space where Ichika could rehearse her lines for her audition, and a study for Fuutarou to sink into his books and scribble over his pages. They picked out which corner their cat, Tappi, would best enjoy the view of the city, and which corner would best fit a book or display shelf. Imagined and reimagined, like children playing pretend. Only a handful of minutes had gone by, and yet, the apartment did not quite feel the same as when they first stepped through its door.

"You're probably still exhausted from all the traveling," Fuutarou remarked, seeing the young actress try to cover a long yawn. "Here, let me go and run a bath for you."

"Thank you, Fuutarou-kun. You're too sweet to me."

"It's the least I can do. I know there isn't much right now, but make yourself comfortable somewhere."

"Sure. I'll call the others back home and see how they're doing."

"I'll be right back."

By the time Fuutarou reemerged from the bathroom, a soft, golden glow had crept into the room. Dimmed sunlight reflected off the bare floors and onto the plain walls, slowly bringing the room to an orange hue. Light wind blew from the ajar screen door, and without any obstructions, whistled through the room like the sound through a tunnel. In this moment, a heart-easing calmness settled. Something that made Fuutarou carefully tiptoe out of the light steam that drifted from the bathroom door and down the hall. Around the corner, and steadier at the sound of soft breathing, and Fuutarou could only smile as he laid eyes on her.

It should not have been too long since he left, but it came as no surprise that it was all the time he needed to find the young actress, his partner, and his fiancée, rested peacefully, seated on the floor with her back against the wall. She was still dressed in day clothes—the sleeves of her blazer slipping off her shoulders.

With a quiet sigh, Fuutarou gently placed himself beside his partner. Ichika tilted her head onto his shoulder just as he sat. "The bath is ready, Ichika," he said. "Go on and wake up."

"I'm not… asleep…" Ichika mumbled, with one cheek pressed against him. "I'm… not…"

"Come on, you're still in your day clothes."

"Okay, okay…" She pulled herself up sluggishly, and with another long yawn, began to stretch. For a while, she sat right there. Right beside Fuutarou, staring at both of their legs that pointed to the empty apartment. The breeze blew the currents again, and the dimming sunlight turned the room a touch closer to amber. "Hey, Fuutarou-kun?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I did a good job while I was out there?"

Without missing a beat, he nodded. "Of course you did. I watched you the entire time. You were amazing."

"It wasn't a waste of time or anything?"

"Definitely not. Why? Is something bothering you?"

"A little." Ichika reached for his hand, delicately lacing her fingers between his. She loved how they felt—how warm it felt between his palm, and how firmly he held onto her. Then, she traced down to his wrist, lifting it so that she may place his hand just over her head. "You haven't praised me enough yet. Go on, tell me how proud you are of me. Keep telling me how great I was."

Fuutarou gently laughed. "Sorry. You're right." He ran his hand over her hair, occassionally slipping his fingers through the strands. "Good job, Ichika."

"More." She pouted, then rested her head back on his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah… you were amazing out there, Ichika. I couldn't take my eyes off of you for a second. I was your biggest fan, and I was cheering for you every single day you were gone. If you still don't believe me, then you're free to check my search history"

"Hah. You sure I won't find something naughty?" She laughed.

"Try as hard as you want. But Ichika…" He looked down towards her, into the round, deep blue that made up her eyes. He watched that soft part of her lips as she softly breathed, and the rosy tint that flushed her cheeks whenever they were this close. His hand brushed a part of her bangs aside, and he placed his lips gently on her forehead. "I'm proud of you, Ichika. And I'm happy that you're back home."

She smiled, then leaned in one for one quick kiss on his lips. "And I'm happy to be home, Fuutarou-kun."

They continued to sit, staring at their room as if it could somehow change beyond an empty space if they just waited long enough. The opened window carried sounds of the world outside—the passing of cars, the families returning home from their outings, the hollers of people stepping into the night of the city. A world they had found a new place for themselves in, and another new beginning among countless others, both past and the ones still to come. For a while, they stayed just as they were.

Just like that, until finally, after one last look around the room, Fuutarou breathed a heavy sigh.

"What are you thinking about?" Ichika asked.

"I was just thinking, now that you're moving in here with me, Ichika, this will probably be the cleanest I'll ever see this place. I'll probably enjoy this sight while it la—hey! Ow, ow! That's my cheek!"

"What did I just tell you about misbehaving, hmm, Fuutarou-kun?"

Author's Note

Just in time for the end of the year!

After a MUCH needed hiatus, I finally made myself finish another chapter! Nothing too grand if you've made it this far, but something a lot simpler as everything is wrapping. Coundown T-minus… Three! Three more chapters to go until this story is finished! I do recall I wanted to finish this story by the end of the year, but seeing as I've only released three chapters in 2023, that's definitely not happening ha haaaaa! To be honest, I kind of forgot how it felt to write after so long, and that's especially true with these Author Notes. I remember I'm supposed to ramble on about my thoughts on this chapter.

This chapter had its own hurdles to write, mostly because it felt a lot like writing the normal and the mundane, but that on its own isn't entirely a bad thing. Ichika coming back home and moving in together with Fuutarou was a milestone I've been wanting to reach, but as I wrote it I felt like I was writing something really private that, at times, it felt like I was writing from a nonfictional point of view. It's weird now that I type it—maybe I'm just still getting back into the groove after so long, or maybe it's just that the normal and mundane parts of life are just that tough to write after all.

Anyways, thanks to those who left reviews on Chapter 25 and any recent chapters. I may have been a LOT slower getting back to some of these replies since I haven't logged into FFN for half the year, so sorry for the delay! Thank you to— Tombsie26, XXAlter, Random Reader Guy, JNTF1QQ, Quintaphract, Thien Truong, Fox McCloude, MiniCalvin, tongboonbin, LP10, and any other guest review(s)!Thanks also to the reddit commenters—Small_Ruin_648, SyrinxCounterparts, QuantumLatke, and Nekunutz!

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