[51] Onigiri Offerings
"Just try it," the barista said patiently. "I added extra cinnamon, the way you like your roasted sheep."
Marin's fingers traced lazy circles against my scalp as we sprawled on the couch. The afternoon sun painted warm squares across the floor, and the remains of our third attempt at pancakes sat abandoned on the coffee table.
"See? I told you you'd get invested," she said, tugging gently at my hair. "Wait until episode eight when the hydra tries to order six different drinks at once."
"Does the barista make it?"
"No spoilers."
My phone lit up on the armrest - a notification from Akane. My chest tightened as I opened the message.
[Akane]: I'm so sorry about everything online. My manager showed me what people are saying. I never meant to cause trouble for you.
[Akane]: I don't know how to thank you properly. For last night. For everything.
Marin peered at the screen. "You should answer her."
"I know." I stared at the typing indicator as it appeared and disappeared several times.
[Akane]: The company wants me to take a break from filming. They're calling it a "health hiatus." Maybe it's for the best.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. What could I possibly say? 'Don't worry about it'? 'Hope you feel better'? Everything felt hollow.
[Akira]: Are you somewhere safe?
The response came quickly.
[Akane]: Yes. I'm still with my mother. She's... helping me find someone to talk to.
[Akane]: A professional, I mean.
"That's good," Marin murmured, reading over my shoulder. "Really good."
[Akira]: The internet stuff will blow over. It always does.
[Akane]: But your reputation...
[Akira]: Is fine. Focus on yourself right now.
The typing indicator appeared again, lingered for nearly a minute.
[Akane]: Thank you.
I set the phone down as on screen, the dragon finally took a cautious sip of its latte. Its eyes widened comically.
"This is... acceptable," it rumbled, smoke now smelling distinctly of espresso.
Marin laughed. "Dragons are such tsunderes in this show."
"That's not a real word."
"Is too. It means-"
"I know what it means. You've explained it sixteen times."
She tugged my hair in retaliation. "Maybe if you watched more anime, I wouldn't have to keep explaining."
"Maybe if you picked shows that weren't about coffee-drinking monsters..."
"Hey, you're the one who got invested in the werewolf's coffee blog."
"His reviews are insightful."
Her laugh shook through both of us. "Nerd."
"Your nerd," I said without thinking.
Her fingers stilled for a moment. "Yeah," she said softly. "Mine."
We watched another episode in comfortable silence. My phone stayed quiet - Miyako had probably scared off most people with her "do not disturb unless emergency" directive. The social media storm felt distant here, muted by the gentle domesticity of the moment.
"Want more pancakes?" Marin asked as the credits rolled. "We've almost figured out the right temperature."
"You mean I've almost figured it out. You're still banned from touching the stove."
"Rude." She poked my cheek. "I helped with the mixing."
"Is that what you call getting batter on the ceiling?"
"I was being enthusiastic!"
I caught her hand before she could poke me again, pressing a kiss to her palm. She made a small sound of surprise.
"What was that for?"
"For staying." For understanding. For making everything feel manageable.
Her expression softened. "Always," she said simply, and somehow that single word carried more weight than any lengthy declaration could have.
My phone lit up again - another message from Akane.
[Akane]: Want to let you know that you're trending again. Something about pancakes?
I frowned, opening Twitter despite my better judgment. Sure enough, #AkiraPancakes was gaining traction, sparked by a photo Marin had apparently posted an hour ago on my page - me at the stove, flour in my hair, focused on not burning breakfast.
The comments were... surprisingly positive.
"Okay wait this is actually adorable???"
"Domestic Akira >>> Unhinged Akira"
"Marin."
"Yes?" Her voice was too innocent.
"What happened to staying off social media?"
"I never agreed to that. Besides..." She gestured at the responses. "Look how happy it's making people. Way better than all that arrest speculation."
She had a point. The hashtag had completely shifted the conversation, drowning out the darker rumors with domestic fluff.
"You're ridiculous," I told her.
"You love it."
I did. More than I could properly express.
On screen, a group of pixies were arguing about whether oat milk was acceptable in cappuccinos. Marin's fingers found their way back into my hair, and I let myself sink into the simple comfort of the moment.
My phone rang again, displaying a number I hadn't expected to see. Kaburagi. I let it ring three times, debating whether to answer.
"Who is it?" Marin asked, still playing with my hair.
"The director." I hit accept. "What."
"Ah, Akira-kun!" Kaburagi's voice was as cheerful as ever. "How's our favorite rising star doing? I saw the headlines-"
"You have some nerve calling my phone." The words came out cold, measured.
A pause. "Now, now. Let's not be hasty-"
"I told you not to air that scene." I sat up, dislodging Marin's hand. "We had an agreement."
"The network made the final call. These things aren't always in my control-"
"Bullshit." I stood, pacing across the living room. "You knew exactly what would happen. You knew how the fans would react."
"Drama brings ratings. Akane-chan understood that when she signed on-"
"She tried to jump off a bridge last night."
The silence on the other end stretched. When Kaburagi spoke again, his voice had lost its artificial cheer. "Is she..."
"She's alive. No thanks to you."
Marin watched me from the couch, her expression worried. On the TV, the café owner was explaining the concept of decaf to a very confused phoenix.
"Listen, Akira-kun-"
"No, you listen." I pressed the phone harder against my ear. "You've built your entire career on manufacturing conflict. On pushing people until they break. And then you act surprised when they actually do."
"That's not fair. We create compelling television-"
"You create trauma for profit." My free hand clenched into a fist. "And you're good at it. Really good. You know exactly how to edit scenes to make someone look unstable. How to frame interactions to generate maximum hate online."
"The audience-"
"The audience doesn't know they're watching real people break in real time. But you do." I thought of Akane's face in the convenience store security footage, haunted and desperate. "You see it happening and you push for more."
"I care about my actors-"
"Then act like it." I cut him off again. "Pull the episode. Issue a retraction. Do something besides pretending this is normal."
Another long pause. "You know I can't do that."
"Can't or won't?"
"The episode has already aired. The clips are online. Pulling it now would only draw more attention-"
"Right. Because that's what you're worried about. Attention." I laughed, harsh and bitter. "Not the fact that one of your leads almost died."
"Akira-kun..." His voice took on a patronizing tone that made my jaw clench. "I understand you're upset. But this is how the industry works. If Akane-chan isn't prepared for that reality-"
"Don't." My voice dropped dangerously low. "Don't you dare put this on her."
"Perhaps we should discuss this when you're feeling more rational-"
"Perhaps you should lose my number."
"Now you're just being dramatic. Which, may I remind you, is exactly what made you perfect for this show-"
I hung up. The phone screen cracked under my grip.
"Shit." I set it down carefully, trying to steady my breathing.
Marin appeared at my side, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Want me to egg his car?"
Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch. "You don't know where he lives."
"I can find out. I'm very resourceful when properly motivated."
"No egging cars."
"Fine." She pressed her forehead against my back. "Want to hear my backup plans?"
"Do they all involve property damage?"
"Only like sixty percent of them."
I turned to face her, letting her presence ground me. "He's not worth it."
"No," she agreed. "But you're worth defending."
My cracked phone lit up with a text from Kaburagi:
[Remember your contract, Akira-kun. Don't do anything rash.]
Marin read it over my shoulder and made a disgusted sound. "What a dick."
"Yeah." I deleted the message without responding. "But he's right about one thing."
"What's that?"
"I'm still under contract."
She pulled back to look at me. "So what are you going to do?"
"Actually... I might know someone who can help."
"Who?" Marin asked, still holding onto my waist.
"Aqua." I pulled up his contact.
"The scary twin?" Marin's nose scrunched up. "Isn't he kind of... intense?"
"That's exactly why I need to talk to him." I hit call before I could second-guess myself.
He answered on the second ring. "Akira." His voice was neutral, giving nothing away. "I saw the trending topics."
"Yeah. Listen, I need-"
"Come to Strawberry Productions. Now." He paused. "Bring Marin if you want. Ruby's here anyway."
"I didn't say I wanted to-"
"You're calling me at 2 PM on a Sunday after trending for alleged criminal activity. Either you need help or you're about to do something stupid. Possibly both."
I glanced at Marin, who was close enough to hear both sides of the conversation. She nodded.
"Fine. Give us thirty minutes."
"Okay." He hung up.
"Well, he's cheerful as ever," Marin said, already heading for the bedroom to change. "Should I bring snacks? He seems like he needs snacks."
"I don't think chocolate's going to fix this one."
"You'd be surprised. Ruby says he's way less scary when he's eating."
We made it to Strawberry Productions in eighteen minutes, partly because Marin insisted on stopping for convenience store onigiri ("They're peace offerings!").
Ruby met us in the lobby, practically tackling me with a hug. "You're okay! When I saw the hashtag I thought- but then Marin posted the pancake photo and-" She pulled back, eyes wide. "You did make me pancakes too, right?"
"Sorry, we kind of ate them all," Marin said.
"Betrayal!" Ruby grabbed my arm, tugging me toward the elevator. "Come on, Aqua's being all broody in the conference room. More than usual, I mean."
The conference room was empty except for Aqua, who sat at the head of the table surrounded by tablets and papers. He barely looked up when we entered.
"Eighteen minutes. Impressive." He tapped something on one of the tablets. "Especially considering the convenience store detour."
"How did you-"
"The onigiri wrapper's sticking out of Marin's bag." He finally looked up. "Sit."
We sat. Ruby perched on the table itself, swinging her legs. Marin started unpacking onigiri, sliding one across to Aqua. He ignored it.
"Tell me everything," he said. "From the beginning."
So I did. The bridge, the convenience store, Kaburagi's call. Aqua listened without interrupting, his expression unchanging. Only his eyes moved, sharp and calculating.
When I finished, he was quiet for a long moment. Then: "You realize this could end your career."
"I don't care."
"You should." He picked up one of the tablets. "The industry has a long memory. Cross the wrong person now, you might never work again."
"So I should just let them destroy people for ratings?"
"No." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "You should be smarter about how you fight back."
He turned the tablet around. On screen was a detailed breakdown of viewing statistics, social media engagement, and... financial records?
"How did you get these?" I asked.
"Does it matter?" His eyes met mine. "What matters is that Kaburagi's show is hemorrhaging money. Advertisers are pulling out. The network's getting nervous."
"Because of last night?"
"Because of patterns." He swiped through more documents. "Declining ratings. Increasing production costs. Three formal complaints from former cast members." He paused. "And now, potential liability for talent endangerment."
Marin leaned forward. "You're saying we can use this?"
"I'm saying Akira's not the only one who should be worried about contracts." Aqua's smile turned sharp. "Kaburagi's renewal is up for review next month. The network's looking for an excuse to cut him loose."
"And this could be it," I said slowly.
"If handled correctly." He finally picked up the onigiri, examining it like it might contain secrets. "But you'll need to be careful. Strategic."
"I'm listening."
"First, we need Akane's cooperation. Her story, her voice - but carefully managed. No direct accusations, just... implications." He took a precise bite of the onigiri. "The audience loves reading between lines."
"She'll help," I said. "But I won't let anyone pressure her."
"No pressure needed. Just truth, presented the right way." He swallowed, then added: "The network's already worried about liability. We just need to make them more worried about keeping Kaburagi than firing him."
Ruby, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet, spoke up. "What about the fans? They're already taking sides."
"Let them." Aqua's eyes gleamed. "Engagement is engagement. The more people talk, the more the network has to pay attention."
"You've done this before," I said. It wasn't a question.
"Something similar." He didn't elaborate. "But this time we have advantages. Public sympathy. Social media momentum. And..." He tapped the financial records. "Numbers don't lie."
Marin raised her hand like we were in class. "Quick question - is any of this legal?"
"Technically? Yes. Ethically?" He shrugged. "Depends who you ask."
"I'm asking you."
"Then yes." He met her gaze steadily. "Sometimes you have to fight dirty to do the right thing."
She considered this, then nodded. "Okay. I'm in. What do you need me to do?"
"Keep doing what you're doing. The pancake post was good - humanizes Akira, counters the 'unstable actor' narrative." He glanced at me.
"Can we focus?" But I felt myself relax slightly. The weight of everything felt more manageable with them here, plotting in this sterile conference room with convenience store onigiri and illegally obtained documents.
"Right." Aqua pulled up another document. "Here's what we're going to do..."
We spent the next hour planning, refining, preparing for every possible reaction. Aqua thought of angles I never would have considered, contingencies within contingencies. Ruby and Marin contributed ideas that ranged from brilliant to borderline criminal ("No, we cannot release locusts into Kaburagi's office." "But it would be symbolic!").
Finally, Aqua sat back. "That should do it. Questions?"
"Just one," I said. "Why are you helping me?"
He was quiet for a moment, something dark passing behind his eyes.
"Because I hate people who abuse power," he said finally. His voice was flat, controlled. "And because Ruby wouldn't shut up about it."
"Hey!" Ruby threw a wadded-up onigiri wrapper at him. "I was worried!"
He caught it without looking. "You're always worried."
"Someone has to be! You're too busy being scary and mysterious."
"I'm not mysterious."
"You literally have a secret investigation board in your room."
"It's for research."
"It has red string!"
I watched them bicker, seeing glimpses of normal siblings beneath their carefully maintained personas. Marin nudged my arm.
"Should we tell them we're still here, or...?"
"Let them get it out of their system," I said quietly.
Aqua cleared his throat. "If we're done discussing my organizational methods-"
"String, Aqua. Red string."
"-we should focus on next steps." He pulled up another document. "I'll talk to the rest of the cast. Get them on board."