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The night air was heavy and still, but as I walked alongside Arata toward his apartment complex, the heavy silence felt different—it felt like freedom. We reached the modest, brick-faced building tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. I looked up at the familiar windows. Back then, this place was a forbidden sanctuary; now, it was going to be my home.
Far away from the neon-lit districts where giant posters of my face used to line the streets, this building felt real. As we stepped into the genkan of Apartment 403, Arata took off his shoes and placed his keys in a small wooden tray on top of the shoe cabinet. I stood in the middle of his living room, looking around at the simple, cluttered space. For the first time, I felt like I could finally breathe.
"You should rest, Sayaka," Arata said. "I'll make us some dinner. You've probably forgotten what a real home-cooked meal tastes like."
I bit my lip, feeling a strange mixture of embarrassment and curiosity. "I... I can help? But I don't really know how to cook. I don't even know how to turn on a stove properly."
Arata let out a soft, genuine laugh. "It's okay. Being a top idol doesn't leave much room for the kitchen. Just sit and relax."
After that, Arata started preparing dinner. He boiled some pasta and tossed it with garlic, olive oil, and fresh herbs. The aroma was simple yet welcoming. As we sat across from each other at his small table, I found myself eating with pure joy for the first time in a long while. There was no fear of gaining weight—because I wasn't an idol anymore. I was just me.
"Oishii..." I whispered. "Arata, this is amazing."
While we were eating, Arata looked at me and said, "I've heard that the unit next door, 402, has been vacant for quite a while now. I'll talk to the Oya-san (landlord) about it tomorrow morning. If everything goes well, you might be able to move in right away. For tonight, you stay here."
I felt a rush of relief. Having my own space right next to him was more than I could have hoped for. "Thank you, Arata. For everything."
After finishing the meal, I stood up and reached for the plates. "Let me do the araimono," I insisted. I carefully washed the plates, the warm water providing a sense of peace. Once the kitchen was tidy, Arata pulled out an extra blanket and a futon cushion.
"You're sleeping in the bedroom tonight, Sayaka. I've already decided. I'll be perfectly fine here on the couch. I've spent many nights here before, so don't worry about me."
"But Arata, it's your bed—"
"And you are my guest," he interrupted firmly but kindly. "And from tomorrow, you'll be my neighbor. You need to be well-rested for your new start."
The next morning, the transition began. With the key to Apartment 402 in my hand, I felt a surge of pure excitement. The room was empty and quiet, but it was mine. Arata accompanied me to a nearby store. I bought everything necessary for my new home. When we got back, Arata helped me drag the boxes into the space. As the sun began to set, my apartment didn't look like a void anymore. It looked like a beginning.
"Neighbors, then?" Arata asked as he stood by the doorway.
"Neighbors," I replied, feeling the weight of the key in my hand. I wasn't just 'The Idol Sayaka' anymore. I was a girl with her own room and a true friend next door.