After dinner, Akira and Hanoka remained at the table for a while.
The mood between them was quiet and comfortable.
Hanoka sat close to Akira, her arm wrapped around his.
Neither of them said much.
For the first time that day, Akira’s mind felt somewhat peaceful.
Eventually, Hanoka stood up.
Hanoka (tired): “Goodnight, Akira.”
Akira looked at her.
Akira: “Goodnight.”
Hanoka walked upstairs.
Her footsteps slowly faded through the house.
Akira remained on the sofa, alone.
The clock on the wall ticked quietly.
10:00 PM.
Akira stared ahead.
His thoughts slowly returned to Nitagawa.
His friendship with him.
His parents.
The questions Nitagawa always avoided.
Why had he always dodged the subject whenever Akira mentioned his parents?
And why had Nitagawa become an actor in the first place?
Then Akira remembered something.
A memory.
FLASHBACK
Akira noticed Nitagawa placing something inside the cabinet of his car.
Akira: “Nitagawa, what are you putting in there?”
Nitagawa looked toward him.
Nitagawa: “Something for you.”
Akira blinked.
Akira: “What?”
Nitagawa closed the cabinet.
Nitagawa: “Not now.”
Akira: “Fine.
I’ll take a sneak peek when you’re not around.”
Nitagawa laughed.
Nitagawa: “Say that after you manage to steal my keys.”
Akira laughed.
Nitagawa laughed with him.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
PRESENT
Akira’s eyes widened slightly.
The memory.
The questions.
The way Nitagawa had avoided talking about his parents.
The cabinet.
The mysterious object he had promised was for Akira.
One after another, the pieces began falling into place.
Akira slowly stood up.
He grabbed his coat and picked up his keys.
He knew where he needed to go.
The engine of his S13 roared through the quiet streets of Tokyo.
After driving for some time, Akira finally arrived at Nitagawa’s old house.
But something was different.
Dust covered parts of the exterior, cracks ran across the walls, and nature had begun reclaiming parts of the property.
Akira stepped out of the car and looked around.
Then he noticed something.
One of the windows on the upper floor was glowing with a strange white light.
For a moment, it almost looked as if the light were calling him toward it.
Akira stared at it.
Then he shook his head.
Akira: “What am I even doing?”
He approached the house and entered.
The room on the left immediately caught his attention.
The strange white glow was coming from the window.
Akira looked outside.
Then he realized the truth.
The light was simply the reflection of his S13’s headlights against the glass.
He sighed.
Akira: “Seriously…”
But then he noticed something else.
Photographs.
Pictures of Akira and Nitagawa smiling together.
Some were from their work.
Others looked like moments they had simply spent together.
Akira slowly walked toward a drawer.
Something had been placed on top of it.
A note.
Akira picked it up.
His hands became still as he read it.
Akira, If you’re reading this, you can look into the paper I left.
Thanks for everything.
Akira stared at the note for several seconds.
Then his eyes moved toward the staircase.
He slowly walked downstairs.
Outside, Nitagawa’s four-door car remained where it had been left.
Nature had already begun taking over the vehicle.
The windows were cracked, and dirt covered parts of its body.
Akira approached it.
He tried the door.
It was unlocked.
Akira hesitated before opening it.
His eyes moved toward the cabinet.
The same cabinet Nitagawa had refused to let him open.
Akira opened it.
A folded envelope immediately fell out.
He caught it before it reached the ground.
His hands trembled slightly.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter.
A letter containing the answers to questions he had asked Nitagawa countless times.
Akira began reading.
Akira, I know this might be late to tell you this.
Whenever you used to ask me about my parents, I would always dodge the question.
I’m sorry.
My parents died a long time ago, shortly after I first became an actor.
I used to avoid talking about them because I didn’t want my sadness and despair to take control of me.
Even though people thought I looked good, that didn’t stop them from mocking me.
They hated me because my father was a farmer.
But there was one person who always believed in me.
My mother.
She listened whenever I complained.
She laughed at my jokes, even when they weren’t funny.
One day, she told me, “Toru, you have the potential to become an actor.
I hope one day you can make people smile the same way you make your father and me smile.” After hearing those words, I worked hard.
The truth is, I never wanted luxuries or a life filled with money.
All I wanted was a simple life in the countryside.
But my mother believed in me.
So I knew I had to become an actor.
Akira, before I met you, my life was filled with darkness and despair.
But then I met you.
Seeing you complain about things, laugh with me, and just be yourself brought light back into my life.
So I know this might sound selfish, but I wanted you all to myself as my friend.
I wanted us to remain friends forever.
I’m sorry.
Akira stopped reading.
The letter slowly lowered from his hands.
His eyes became blurred.
One tear fell.
Then another.
Then another.
He tried to hold himself together, but the emotions he had been carrying for so long finally broke through.
Yet through his tears, Akira smiled.
He had always thought Nitagawa was perfect.
The successful actor.
The confident person.
The friend who always seemed to know what to say.
But now Akira understood.
Nitagawa had been carrying his own pain all along.
He wasn’t perfect.
He was simply someone who had learned how to smile despite everything he had lost.
Akira looked down at the letter.
Akira (quietly): “You idiot…”
His voice trembled.
Akira: “You could’ve just told me.”
He wiped his eyes.
But the smile remained.
For the first time, Akira understood the person he had called his friend.
And perhaps that was the truth Nitagawa had wanted him to know.
Far away, back at Akira’s house, Hanoka turned onto her side in her sleep.
She slept peacefully as the city lights of Tokyo continued glowing outside the window.
Neither she nor Akira knew what tomorrow would bring.
But one thing had finally become clear.
Sometimes, the person you believe is perfect…
is simply someone who learned how to hide their pain.
Hello!
Isamu here.
I hope you’re enjoying the story so far!
Your feedback is incredibly valuable to me and helps me continue to improve the writing.