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Back home after the festival, I found myself staring at that sketch for a long time. For some reason, the glittering lights of my idol life felt so insignificant tonight. To be honest, I'm just tired of being on stage and in front of cameras all the time. Is the happy girl everyone sees even me? I feel like I can't breathe. I just want to leave everything behind and disappear to a place where nobody knows who I am.
The house felt suffocating, so I put on a heavy hoodie and a cap to hide my face and slipped out. I didn't have a destination; I just wanted to walk until I couldn't hear the noise in my head anymore. I ended up near a quiet superstore on the outskirts of the neighborhood.
Outside the store, there were a few benches next to the vending machines. And then, I saw him.
Arata was sitting there, a cold canned coffee in one hand and his other hand deep in his pocket. He wasn't drawing; he was just staring at the street as if the world around him didn't exist. He didn't notice me at first. I stood there for a moment, my heart beating fast. As I looked at him, my mind drifted back to the sketch I had left on my desk—the raw, honest drawing of a girl who looked exactly like I felt right now.
I took a deep breath and walked toward him. "You're here?"
He looked up, clearly surprised to see someone like me in a place like this. "Sayaka-san? Why are you here..."
"I just needed to breathe," I said, sitting down on the edge of the bench, leaving a small gap between us. "I saw your drawing," I added quietly, looking at my hands. "You left it behind at the festival."
He looked away, staring at his coffee can. "I thought you'd throw it away."
"Why would I throw it away?" I asked. "No one has ever drawn me like this before. Without the fake smile."
Arata finally looked at me. His eyes were calm, but they seemed to see right through me. "Because that's not who you are, Sayaka-san. All this brightness is just there to hide how tired you look. You're just... a girl who's exhausted."
I wanted to say something, but my voice felt heavy. I wanted to deny it, but his words hit me right where it hurt. "I have to be that person. People depend on me. My manager, my fans... my family. If I stop smiling, everything falls apart."
"And if you keep smiling for them," Arata said quietly, "you'll fall apart yourself. Who will smile for you then?"
Silence stretched between us as the wind blew past. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence; it felt like we were the only two people left in a quiet world.
"Why did you help me that day?" I asked, looking at my hands. "You don't even like idols."
"I don't," he admitted. "But I didn't see an idol that time. I saw a girl standing in the middle of a storm, looking like she wanted to disappear. I just saw someone who needed a place to hide."
I looked at him, and for the first time in years, I didn't use my practiced, fake smile. "Thank you, Arata-kun. For seeing me as a normal girl."
Arata went silent for a moment after hearing my words. He put his coffee can down on the bench. His pale face didn't look as gloomy anymore.
"You don't know what you're saying, Sayaka," he said with a faint smile, but there was a strange tenderness in his eyes this time. "Being a ghost means loneliness. It means being invisible even in a crowd."
"That's exactly how I feel right now, Arata," I sat a little closer to him. Our shoulders were almost touching. "At least when I'm with you, I don't feel like I have to act. In your eyes, I can see myself... just as a normal girl."
Arata stood up and said, "Come on, let me take you to a fun place. A place where you can enjoy yourself to your heart's content."
"Now? But where?"
"There's a game zone nearby. It's usually quiet," he said, hands in his pockets, and started walking.
Ten minutes later, I found myself in a game zone filled with neon lights and the sounds of arcade machines. I've been to many big events as Sayaka, but this small game zone felt like a fairy tale to me.
I ran toward a basketball arcade machine. "Arata, can I play this?"
He dropped a coin into the machine. "Sure. Let's see how many points you can score."
I started throwing the balls one after another. Soon I forgot everything and just lost myself in the game. Every time I scored, I jumped like a little kid. Arata just stood there watching me, that familiar faint smile on his face.
"Now, let's play Air-Hockey!" I dragged him over.
We played against each other. As quiet as Arata seems, he was incredibly serious about the game. In a few rounds, he absolutely defeated me.
"You're so mean!" I said, breathless from laughing. "Why aren't you letting me win even a little?"
"If I let you win, you wouldn't feel the joy of actually winning," he said calmly, but with a mischievous spark in his eyes.
After the games, I sat down on one of the machines. There was light sweat on my forehead, but my heart felt so light today. The colorful lights all around felt much softer and more beautiful to me than those big stage spotlights.
I looked at Arata. "You know, for the first time in a long time, I feel truly light. It's like a weight has been lifted off me."
Arata didn't look at me; he kept his eyes on the screen. "Living is actually very simple, Sayaka. We're the ones who make it complicated."
As we stepped out of the game zone, evening had already fallen over the city. The sky was now a deep indigo, and the neon signs were glowing everywhere. The city had begun its nightly hustle, but inside, I felt a strange sense of quiet. We walked side by side in silence.
We eventually reached the entrance of the alley leading to my house. In the darkness, my grand house was glittering from a distance—looking exactly like a golden cage. I stopped.
"You don't need to come any further. I can go from here," I told him softly.
Arata nodded. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the night sky. As he turned to leave, I suddenly called out, "Arata-kun!"
He looked back. The light from the streetlamp fell on his face, creating a mysterious shadow.
"Thank you for today. For the first time in a long time, I'm truly happy," I said with a smile. And this time, it wasn't fake.
Arata paused for a moment. A very faint smile played on his lips. He simply said, "Get home safely. It's late."
Without another word, he walked away and disappeared into the night crowd. I stood at the corner, watching him until he was out of sight. I reached into my pocket and felt the wrapper of the half-eaten chocolate he had given me.
When I reached the front gate of my house, I saw my manager's car parked there. The house was brightly lit, but I wasn't afraid anymore. Tomorrow, the big spotlights, the cameras, and the struggle to be perfect might begin again. But now, I have a secret world. A world where I am just Sayaka.