Chapter Text
She hated how her mind constantly drifted back. It happened when she least expected it too. She was there for their wedding, she was there for the birth of their daughter. She was there to comfort the woman when her wife died suddenly.
But, it was all bittersweet to her. She loved being around her, but she was also terrified of being around her too much. Every single time she felt herself growing closer to her, she had to push herself away.
Again.
She'd lost track of how many times she'd done it since their junior year of high school.
A lot had happened over the past 14 years. Nearly 14 years? Something else she'd lost track of time over.
Each time her mind drifted back to her, she thought of how she treated her. She was always the one that pushed her away. She was always the one that couldn't handle it — couldn't admit her feelings to herself. There would be weeks, or sometimes even months that they'd go without talking. Or, in their most recent incident, almost two years.
It was her own fault.
Then, as per usual, like what was hitting her now, she would feel waves of awful, horrible loneliness and her mind would go right back to her. She'd been fighting it already for months, but it felt like a losing battle. At this point, she was simply going through the motions. Nothing helped her to feel happy anymore.
"How's the newest film going, Michiru?"
She heard the questions start as soon as she pushed open the back door of the studio. She wished they wouldn't allow any of the reporter onto the lots, but they did. Those that didn't hang around on the lots would simply yell questions at her from the other side of the fence. It was something she couldn't escape, but it was also something she'd grown used to over the past several years since her career started to take off.
Acting wasn't her first choice of careers when she was getting started in life. She loved her music and her art much more, but this is what took off. This is what paid her bills and as time passed, she started to love it. She met many wonderful people. But, as many people as she met, the move lonely she felt and the more she drifted into the depths of depression.
But nobody around hew knew that. She had become a professional at masking her true emotions. And if anybody noticed anything, they never said anything to her about it. It proved to be the easiest.
"Are you dating anybody?"
That was a familiar question to her. Once she couldn't answer. It would be easy to lie and say that she was, but they'd continue bombarding her with questions until she faltered. Lying about it was probably the worst thing she could do. Ignoring it was a far better options.
She couldn't tell them that the one true love she had, she couldn't admit it out loud. Something she was sure would have passed by now, it was years ago. But it never did. It was something that still lingered, no matter how much she tried dating and filling her time with others. Nothing filled that spot in her heart.
Michiru knew what it was. It was something that she'd finally started to admit to herself and fully accept. But not something that her manager would accept. According to him, being 'gay' would destroy her career. She was Japan's sweetheart. Women wanted to be her, men wanted to date her. If it got out that she was gay — something she still struggled with accepting herself — then her career would end.
But that was according to him. She didn't know what to believe anymore. All she knew was that she felt miserable. All she wanted was to be happy with herself and in her life. But instead, she had to push through ensuring that everybody else was happy around her.
All of her drifting, wandering thoughts succeeded in doing was giving her chronic headaches. It was one of two things that she regularly took medication for. She relied heavily on her medication, especially some days just to get through. It was something else she had to manage from the tabloids about her life. Something else they made up stories about. They seemed convinced that she was addicted to pain killers. Someone had snapped a single picture one time two years ago when she was taking her medicine for her headaches.
It became something they clung to. They spotted a famous person popping a pill into her mouth. That was all it took for the stories to fly and continue to fly. It didn't matter to them that they sparked many of her headaches and her reason for the medication in the first place.
The flash of a camera pulled her out of her thoughts long enough to remember to throw on her famous smile. She even went a step further to lift her hand to wave politely in their direction. Her manager, on many occasions, had encouraged her to never answer their questions. They twisted her words.
She briefly recalled a moment early in her career where she answered a question about a co-star and told the reported that she wasn't interested in him. Which she wasn't. She wasn't interested in him or any man if she were being honest with herself, but they published that she announced she was gay. Ichirou spent weeks curbing the tabloids and reports that she announced she was gay.
She remembered trying to stop him from doing so because she didn't care. Back then, she knew she was gay, it was impossible to admit it to herself, but she figured that if it was already out then she wouldn't have to announce it herself, but he was adamant. He insisted that if she ever wanted to make anything of herself in the movie business, then being gay wasn't an option.
At least being gay publicly.
Ichirou had made it known early on in their time together that whatever she did in the privacy of her own home wasn't his business, but the second it hit the public eye, it made his life hell to cover it up. He'd spent years drilling it into her head that the public would immediately turn on her if it came out as the truth. Sure, the rumors continued to circulate, especially since any relationship she ever had never lasted longer than a month.
On many occasions througout her career, Michiru attempted to date men. She allowed herself to be setup on several dates. Most of them were really nice guys and she simply found herself enjoying the conversation and company they provided, but she couldn't push herself into allowing anything else to happen. And thankfully, they'd all felt the same and respected her choices.
Some of them still stayed in touch, providing a small bit of contact to her.
Off behind her, she could still hear the questions being fired in her direction, but they faded the moment her car door was pulled shut behind her. It allowed her a moment to breath, being safely behind her tinted windows. Sometimes they would come right up to snap her picture though. It was the only way they could see into the vehicle.
Following her usual habits, she reached into the front flap of her bag to retrieve her cell phone. As expected, the only messages she received were from her manager, Ichirou. There were rarely any other messages from the people that she considered to be 'friends.'
Ichirou: Need you to call me soon. Got a new prospect for you to look over.
Ichirou: I know you're on set, but calling me is important.
Ichirou: I set up an interview for you next Friday. Call me, I'll give you the details.
Sighing, she tossed her phone back to the bag and started the car's engine. She'd call him later, after she got home and got to unwind a little bit from her hectic day. She hated that he scheduled her interviews without running them by her first, but she had to stay in the public eye to keep the focus on her and her upcoming movie.
Part of her was also curious about what the new prospect was. She knew it was another movie, it always was, but there were times she'd like to have a little bit of a break between films. He did his best to keep her busy throughout the year.
Something else that drained her and made her feel like she was in a rut. She had a feeling of something… no someone that would be able to help her. But it had been nearly two years.
Surely she wouldn't be interested in talking to her so Michiru wasn't even sure that she'd waste her time or what little emotional strength she had remaining.