[47] Eye of the Hurricane

August 11, 2025

I glanced at my phone. 6:48 PM. Marin bustled around the apartment, gathering her things for her upcoming video shoot at Strawberry Productions.

"You got everything?" I asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Marin paused, ticking off items on her fingers. "Phone, wallet, makeup touch-up kit... Oh! My lucky charm!" She darted to the bedroom and returned with a small plush keychain dangling from her bag.

"Don't forget an umbrella," I said, nodding towards the window. Dark clouds loomed on the horizon. "Looks like a storm's brewing."

Marin peered outside, her nose almost touching the glass. "Ugh, you're right. I hope it holds off until after we finish filming."

"Speaking of which, a mukbang, huh?" I raised an eyebrow. "What're you guys eating?"

"Hot pot!" Marin's eyes lit up. "Ruby found this place that does these massive platters with like, five different broths. It's gonna be epic."

I chuckled. "Just don't make yourself sick. I'll text Tanaka-san to bring the car around. He'll drive you there and stick close by in case you need a ride back."

Marin tilted her head. "You're not coming?"

I shook my head. "Meeting with the producers. Gotta smooth things over after... well, you know."

Her expression softened. "Right. How's Akane doing?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Better, I think. She's laying low for now. I'm hoping we can get the producers to ease up on the drama bait for a while."

Marin nodded, then checked her watch. "Shoot, I should get going." She grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

I caught her arm gently. "Hey."

She turned, and I pulled her close, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. Marin melted into it, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, I rested my forehead against hers.

"Be safe, okay?" I murmured.

Marin smiled, her cheeks flushed. "Always am. Good luck with your call."

With a final peck on my cheek, she was out the door. I watched her go, then turned back to the empty apartment. Time to face the music.

I settled onto the couch, laptop open in front of me. The LoveforReal producers wouldn't be calling for another hour, but I wanted to review my talking points.

My phone buzzed. A text from Aqua:

"Heads up. Kaburagi's on the warpath. Good luck."

I groaned, letting my head fall back against the couch. Great. Just what I needed. Kaburagi had been pissed ever since I'd gone over his head to the network execs about toning down the manufactured drama. But someone had to look out for these kids.

The familiar chime of an incoming video call startled me out of my thoughts. Show time.

I took a deep breath, plastered on my most charming smile, and hit 'Accept.'

"Gentlemen," I greeted the stern faces on my screen. "Let's talk about how we can make this show work for everyone."

The next two hours was a carefully choreographed dance of diplomacy, ego-stroking, and the occasional well-placed threat. I'd learned a thing or two about negotiation during my time with Hidetora, skills that came in handy now for far less nefarious purposes.

"Look," I said, leaning forward. "I get it. Drama sells. But there's a line between entertaining TV and straight-up exploitation. These are real kids with real feelings we're dealing with."

Kaburagi's scowl deepened. "They knew what they were signing up for. If they can't handle it-"

"Then what?" I cut him off. "We chew them up and spit them out? Come on, Kaburagi-san. You're better than that."

He bristled, but I pressed on. "Think about the long game here. If we nurture these talents, treat them right, we're not just making a successful show. We're building a stable of future stars for the company. Isn't that worth more than a few cheap reaction shots?"

I could see the wheels turning in their heads. Good. I had them.

"I'm not saying we turn this into some squeaky-clean idol show," I continued. "But let's focus on the real drama, the genuine connections. Trust me, if we give these kids room to be themselves, they'll give us gold."

By the time the call ended, I'd secured a commitment to dial back the manufactured conflicts and give the cast more agency in their storylines. It wasn't a total victory, but it was a start.

I closed my laptop with a sigh of relief, then checked my phone. No messages from Marin yet. She was probably still filming.

Outside, the storm had finally broken. Rain lashed against the windows, punctuated by distant rumbles of thunder.

My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since breakfast. All this talk of mukbangs had made me hungry. I wandered into the kitchen, surveying our options. We really needed to go grocery shopping.

I closed the fridge, giving up on finding anything appetizing. As I leaned against the counter, my mind drifted back to the set a few days ago.

The makeup artist had just finished touching up Akane's face, but even layers of concealer couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes. She'd lost weight too, her cheekbones more prominent than I remembered.

"Thanks," Akane mumbled to the makeup artist, her voice barely above a whisper.

I approached her, keeping my tone light. "Hey, Akane. How's it going?"

She glanced up at me, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, hi Akira. I'm fine, just a bit tired."

"Yeah, these long days can be rough," I said, studying her face. "Listen, if you ever need anything - even just to talk - you can always call me, okay?"

Akane's smile faltered for a moment before she hitched it back into place. "That's really nice of you, but I'm okay. Really. Just haven't been sleeping well lately."

I opened my mouth to press further, but the director's voice cut through the set. "Places, everyone!"

Akane stood up quickly, smoothing down her skirt. "Better get going. See you out there."

As she walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.

The buzz of my phone snapped me back to the present. I fished it out of my pocket, seeing a flurry of notifications from the LoveforReal cast group chat.

Nobu [9:40 PM]: You alright, Akane? Did you eat yet?

Mem-cho [9:45 PM]: We're all worried about you. 😟

I scrolled down, my heart sinking as I saw Akane's response from just four minutes ago.

Akane [10:30 PM]: I'm fine. Going out to get some food now.

I glanced at the clock. 10:34 PM. Something about this didn't sit right with me. I hesitated for a moment, then started texting her privately.

Me [10:35 PM]: Hey Akane, it's pretty late. Want me to order something for you instead? My treat.

I waited, watching the three dots appear and disappear several times before her reply came through.

Akane [10:38 PM]: No need. I could use the fresh air anyway. Thanks though.

I frowned at my phone. Fresh air during a storm? The rational part of my brain said to leave it alone. She was capable of making her own decisions. But the knot in my stomach wouldn't let me drop it.

Me [10:39 PM]: Where are you headed? I know some great late-night spots if you need recommendations.

The response came quicker this time.

Akane [10:40 PM]: Just to the konbini down the street. Don't worry about me.

I chewed my lip, debating my next move. Before I could second-guess myself, I was already dialing her number.

The phone rang once, twice, three times. No answer.

I hung up the phone, my gut churning. Something wasn't right. I pulled up the map on my phone, searching for the nearest konbini to Akane's place. Fourteen minutes on foot. In this weather?

"Shit," I muttered, pacing the living room. It was probably nothing. She was just grabbing a snack, right? But that nagging voice in the back of my head wouldn't shut up.

Before I knew it, I was out the door, barely remembering to grab my keys and put on some shoes. The elevator took an eternity. I sprinted through the lobby, ignoring the doorman's startled look.

The rain hit me like a wall of ice. Within seconds, my t-shirt was soaked through, clinging to my skin. My shoes slapped against the wet pavement as I ran, dodging puddles and late-night stragglers huddled under umbrellas.

I must've looked insane - some half-dressed maniac tearing through the streets of Tokyo. But I couldn't shake the image of Akane's haunted eyes, the way her smile never quite reached them anymore.

My lungs burned as I rounded the corner onto her street. The konbini's neon sign glowed like a beacon through the downpour. I burst through the doors, panting and dripping all over the linoleum.

The clerk behind the counter gaped at me. "Sir, are you alright?"

I scanned the aisles frantically. No sign of Akane. I caught my breath, trying to compose myself as the clerk's eyes widened in recognition.

"Wait, aren't you... Akira Hoshino?"

I nodded impatiently. "Yeah, that's me. Listen, have you seen a girl come in here? Short blue hair, about this tall?" I held my hand up to indicate Akane's height.

The clerk furrowed his brow. "Blue hair? No, I don't think so. It's been pretty quiet tonight because of the storm."

My heart sank. I mumbled a thanks and stumbled back out into the rain.

Where the hell was she?

I pulled out my phone, fingers trembling as I tried to dial her number again. The screen was too wet to register my touch. I wiped it furiously on my soaked sweatpants, which did absolutely nothing.

"Come on, come on," I growled, finally getting the call to go through.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

"Akane, pick up the damn phone," I muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the konbini.

Finally, there was a click.

"...Hello?" Akane's voice was barely audible over the sound of the rain.

"Akane! Where are you?" I shouted into the phone.

There was a long pause. "Akira? Why are you-"

"Never mind that," I cut her off. "Are you okay? Where are you right now?"

Another pause. I could hear her breathing, shallow and quick.

"I'm... I'm at the bridge," she said finally. "The one near the park."

My blood ran cold. I knew the bridge she meant. It spanned a deep ravine, a good thirty meters above the water.

"Akane, listen to me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Stay right there, okay? I'm coming to get you."

"You don't have to-"

"I said I'm coming," I snapped, already breaking into a run. "Don't move."

I ended the call and pushed myself harder, ignoring the burning in my legs. The bridge was only a few blocks away, but it felt like miles.

As I approached the bridge, I saw a lone figure silhouetted against the railing. Akane stood motionless, her hair whipping in the wind, staring down at the churning water below.

"Akane!" I called out, slowing my pace as I got closer. I didn't want to startle her.

She turned, her eyes almost dead inside.

I stopped a few feet away, hands held out placatingly. "Why don't you come away from the edge, huh?"

Akane looked down at her feet, then back at me. "I wasn't going to jump," she said quietly. "I just... I needed to feel something. Anything."

"I get it," I said softly. "But this isn't the way. Come on, let's get out of this rain."

I held out my hand. For a moment, I thought she might refuse. But then she reached out, her fingers cold as ice as they gripped mine.

I pulled her gently away from the railing, leading her to a nearby bus shelter. Akane's body shook as she collapsed against me, her sobs muffled by my rain-soaked shirt. Her fingers dug into my back, clinging to me like I was the only thing keeping her from being swept away. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to shield her from the relentless downpour.

"I'm sorry," she choked out between gasps. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh," I murmured, rubbing her back gently. "You've got nothing to be sorry for."