Ai adjusted her mask before stepping inside her apartment building. The train ride home had been mercifully uneventful—just another anonymous woman in a mask among Tokyo's evening commuters.
Professional reasons only. Her own words echoed in her mind, bringing an unexpected smile to her lips.
She paused at her door, listening to the muffled sounds of children's laughter inside. No matter how grueling the day, this moment always centered her—this threshold between her public and private selves, between Ai-chan and just Ai.
The key turned in the lock, and the door had barely opened when a small blur of golden hair and pink pajamas crashed into her legs.
"Momma's home!" Ruby's voice rang out, her tiny arms wrapping around Ai's knees with surprising strength.
"Hey, little star." Ai lifted her daughter, breathing in the strawberry scent of her shampoo. "Were you good for Miyako today?"
"The best!" Ruby declared, patting Ai's cheeks with both hands. "We made art and I drawed you on stage!"
"Drew," came a quiet correction from the living room.
Aqua stood watching them, a book clutched to his chest, his serious blue eyes taking in every detail of her appearance. Where Ruby crashed into life, Aqua observed it with unnerving perception for a child his age.
"Welcome home, Ai."
She set Ruby down and knelt to his level, arms open. After a moment—just long enough to maintain his dignity—he stepped into her embrace.
"Something good happened today," he said against her shoulder. It wasn't a question.
Ai pulled back, surprised. "What makes you say that?"
Ruby bounced on her toes beside them. "Momma's more bright! Like after big shows!"
Aqua's eyes never left Ai's face. "Your eyes have the performance shine, but you didn't have a show today."
Miyako appeared from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. "The tiny detective strikes again." She tossed the towel over her shoulder. "They've eaten dinner, baths are done, and Ruby's art project only required minimal cleaning."
"Thank you." Ai stood, slipping off her shoes. "You didn't have to do all that."
"Please." Miyako waved dismissively, but her smile was genuine. "The monsters and I had a great day. Though your daughter tried negotiating ice cream for dinner again."
"I almost won too!" Ruby declared proudly.
Miyako gathered her purse and jacket. "Ichigo's picking me up in ten. Date night, apparently, though with him that probably means takeout while reviewing contracts."
"You love it," Ai teased.
"God help me, I do." Miyako checked her phone. "Car's here. You good?"
"Always am." Ai walked her to the door. "Thanks again."
Miyako paused at the threshold, studying Ai's face. "They're right, you know. You're glowing." She leaned in for a quick hug. "Whatever it is, it looks good on you."
Before Ai could respond, her phone chimed with a new message. Miyako's eyebrow arched.
"Interesting timing."
"It's work," Ai said too quickly.
"Mmm-hmm." Miyako smirked. "Tell 'work' I said hello."
The door closed behind her, leaving Ai staring at her phone screen.
Made it home safely? For professional reasons, of course. -T
Heat rose to her cheeks as she typed back:
Safe and sound. Just fulfilling my senior idol duty of ensuring junior talent gets adequate rest before choreography crunch. -A
She slipped the phone into her pocket, turning to find Aqua watching her with unnerving intensity.
"Who's that?" he asked.
"Just a coworker," she answered, moving toward the kitchen. "Who wants a bedtime snack?"
"Me! Me!" Ruby raced ahead, the subject successfully changed.
Aqua followed more slowly, unconvinced. "You don't smile at your phone when your coworkers text."
"That's because they're usually complaining about rehearsal times." Ai opened the refrigerator, grateful for the cool air on her warm face. "Apple slices or grapes?"
"Both!" Ruby climbed onto her chair, kneeling to reach the table better.
"One," Ai countered.
"Both but small," Ruby negotiated, her head tilted in a perfect miniature of Ai's own stubborn expression.
"Half portions of each," Ai conceded, hiding her smile. Her daughter would make a fearsome businesswoman someday.
As she prepared the snack, her phone chimed again.
Junior talent resents that remark. Some of us were born with natural rhythm. Though I appreciate the concern. - T
Ai's laugh escaped before she could catch it.
"What's funny?" Ruby asked, peering over the table edge.
"Nothing, sweetie. Just a silly joke." She set down the plate of fruit. "Eat up, then story time."
What about you? Do you have big celebrations with B-Komachi? - T
She typed back while the twins ate:
Not really. Sometimes the best celebrations happen in your own head. Though I may splurge on the fancy tea instead of the regular stuff. Living dangerously. - A
His response came quickly:
A rebel. I like it. I'm celebrating with instant ramen in my empty apartment. The glamorous idol life they never show in magazines. - T
"Story now?" Ruby asked, fruit devoured.
"Go pick one book each," Ai said, clearing the plates. "And brush teeth first!"
The twins scampered off, leaving Ai alone with her thoughts and the quiet hum of the refrigerator. She leaned against the counter, allowing herself a moment to breathe. The evening with Toshiro kept replaying in her mind—the easy conversation, the shared understanding that came from similar backgrounds.
Her phone lit up again.
What are you really doing tonight? Besides texting a coworker for "professional reasons." - T
She smiled, typing:
Thrilling skincare routine. - A
She hesitated, then added:
What about you? Besides pretending instant ramen is a celebration meal? - A
His response made her laugh:
I'll have you know this ramen is the fancy kind. TWO flavor packets. And I'm watching old PRISM performances, taking notes. - T
Homework even during celebration? You really are the perfect center. - A
"MOMMA! Teeth all clean!" Ruby's voice carried down the hallway, followed by the sound of running water still running.
"Coming!" she called back, slipping the phone into her pocket.
Twenty minutes later, with teeth properly brushed and pajamas straightened, Ai sat between the twins' beds with a book in hand. Ruby's choice was a colorful story about a princess who saved dragons, while Aqua had selected a book about space—his current obsession.
"Dragon one first!" Ruby insisted, snuggling under her pink comforter.
"Space is more educational," Aqua argued, though his eyelids were already heavy.
"How about alternating pages?" Ai suggested, the practiced diplomat.
This compromise accepted, she began reading, her voice shifting between characters with the ease of a veteran performer. Halfway through the first book, her phone vibrated again, but she ignored it, focusing on the story and the gradually relaxing faces of her children.
By the time she finished both books, Ruby was sound asleep, thumb half in her mouth. Aqua fought valiantly against slumber, but his blinks grew longer and longer.
"You should answer your phone," he murmured, eyes closed. "Your coworker is waiting."
Ai froze. "How did you—"
But a soft, even breath told her Aqua had finally surrendered to sleep. She tucked the blanket around him, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"Too smart for your own good," she whispered.
In the living room, Ai sank onto the sofa and pulled out her phone.
Perfect, no. Dedicated, maybe. Or just afraid of failing. Hard to tell the difference sometimes. - T
Sorry for the delay. The universe continues expanding, in case you were wondering about the plot developments. - A
She turned on the television, volume low, finding a late-night variety show. Her body ached from the day's rehearsals, but her mind remained oddly alert.
The response came quickly:
The universe expansion is concerning. Where will we put all the extra stars? - T
Ai smiled, curling her legs beneath her on the sofa.
What are you watching now? - A
Some documentary on black holes. Fascinating and terrifying, like most things worth studying. - T
Ai changed channels until she found the science program he mentioned.
Found it. Now we're watching the same thing. Synchronized professional development. - A
Very professional. I just learned that if you fell into a black hole, you'd be stretched like spaghetti. Useful knowledge for choreography planning. - T
She laughed softly, typing:
Spaghettification. Excellent concept for Ryota's next solo dance break. - A
For the next hour, they exchanged messages about the documentary, their choreography ideas, and gradually, more personal topics.
The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by the quiet narration from the television. Ai found herself sharing small details she rarely discussed with others—her favorite hidden park in Tokyo, her secret addiction to spicy food that didn't match her idol image, her childhood dream of becoming an astronaut.
Why an astronaut? he asked.
She considered the question, fingers hovering over the keyboard before answering:
To see Earth from far away. To know how small we really are. Sometimes I think that would put everything in perspective. - A
His response came after a long pause:
I understand that. The desire to step outside your life and see it clearly. Sometimes I feel like I'm already doing that, watching everything from a strange distance. - T
The honesty in his words resonated with something deep inside her. Before she could respond, another message appeared:
Sorry, too philosophical for midnight. Blame the black holes. - T
Don't apologize. It's nice talking to someone who gets it. - A
She hesitated, then added:
The distance, I mean. - A
The clock on the wall showed nearly 1 AM. She should sleep—tomorrow's schedule started early. Yet she remained curled on the sofa, waiting for his next message.
We should both get some rest. Big days ahead. Thank you for celebrating with me tonight, even from a distance. - T
Ai smiled, warmth spreading through her chest.
Thank you for the black hole education. Now I'll have strange dreams about spaghetti stars. - A
The best kind of dreams. Goodnight, Ai. - T
Goodnight, Toshiro. - A
She set the phone down, the apartment quiet except for the low murmur of the television. Standing, she stretched and moved to turn it off, pausing at the sight of a distant galaxy spinning on screen. Billions of stars, countless worlds, infinite possibilities.
For a moment, she imagined herself there—free from expectations, schedules, and the weight of being everyone's Ai-chan. Just existing, like a single star in that vast darkness.
Her phone lit up one last time:
For what it's worth, you'd have made an excellent astronaut. But I'm glad you're here, making this world brighter instead. - T
Ai held the phone against her chest, a strange ache spreading beneath her ribs. Something was happening—something she hadn't planned for, hadn't protected against.
"Professional reasons," she whispered to her empty living room, the words sounding hollow even to her own ears.