I almost lost a phone scrolling through my phone distracted. A cyclist raced passed me, leaving me off balance.

 

But good thing is I found a reliable seller with a reasonable price for the concert ticket to ONE OK ROCK.

 

Yes, I am totally desperate to get tickets to have to go through secondhand ticket websites. 

 

I just really want to go and see for myself what he's become now.

 

It's next Sunday.

 

 

~

 

 

I was afraid I would feel like an oddball, fearing being the only woman in her thirties when the Budokan is filled with young teenage girls holding their lively banners and donning wildly colored hair. I was overly concerned, I suppose. The demographics of the fans is rather varied. There are actually quite a few number of guys and middle-aged men even. I internally heave a sigh of relief when a group of women, looking like affluent wives of some age strolled past me, giggling in their conversations. 

 

This is when I realise I have already put myself into the age group of 'older women'. I shook my head in quick disapproval.

 

The crowd begins to shift towards the entrance. It seems like the show is about to start. I let myself go along with the rest of the audience, staring up at the large banner on the concert hall. Takahiro's face looks matured and foreign in it. Suddenly, I am regretting coming here. I catch sight of the glistening hair tie one of the rich wives is wearing. I watch as they, engaged in their conversation, move into the concert hall amongst the crowds of youngsters. 

 

To Taka, am I... just an old lady now?

 

God, please. I am just here to watch the concert. No weird thoughts!

 

I am not surprised to see the venue being filled. A strange sense of pride swells in my chest and I smile. But a quick reminder flashes across my mind, 

 

None. Of. My. Business.

 

The lights dim and the audience gets restless, screaming. No time is wasted, the music crashes down immediately, in an exhilaratingly good way. My eardrums are trying hard to get accustomed to the loud volume but my heart is racing fast with the convincing beat. I know this song, I think, as I jump with the whole concert hall. The music is blaring and the lights are running. I see him on stage, singing like it depends on his life. 

 

The monitor lits up with a view of his face. I feel my heart leap involuntarily. He's gone back to short black hair, fringe up to show his small face. His eyes are still as energetic with a gleam. It is a little disgraceful to lose composure, even if it is internally. But, Taka is really shining. His voice is amazing, it's really charismatic. The hype and energy they present on stage is awe-inspiring... Am I becoming a fan?

 

I spend the next hour after the concert scrolling through fan photographs in the Imperial Park. It's dark and the crowd is dispersing. I have my lone silence and my phone. It is already eleven thirty when my neck becomes too strained to continue scrolling through Taka's pictures. I am a little jealous of how puberty gave him perfect sculpted features without losing some boyish charm and at the same time, I am a little scared of how mesmerised I must have been. It's not that it is a real concern, considering how we don't know each other anymore and how much of a gap it is between the two of us. I am now a commoner and he-- I narrow my eyes at the Imperial Palace right before me-- a star.

 

It's time to go before I absolutely miss the last train.

 

I pick myself up, stretching a little, especially my neck, and sees a sideways Taka.

 

What?

 

That's him. That petite frame and skinny limbs in baggy clothes and a black mask. I would recognise that brat even if he turned into ashes. And the rest of the band and the staff.

 

They're leaving Budokan. 

 

I shouldn't be guilty but I dash behind a tree, holding on to the bark for dear life. I am scared that he would see me, even though that would be absolutely difficult in the dark.

 

I hear some exclamations and then some people race down towards the lake I was sitting at.

 

Right, I should go away before anybody sees me! The suddenly crippling low self-esteem is making my legs a bit wobbly as I imagine how Taka would see me if he really did now. 

 

Gosh, my high school tuition teacher stalking me to my concert!

 

I will be an unwanted fangirl!

 

I pick up my pace and step away from the tree, trying to make my escape but it seems I have startled somebody whom I almost bumped into.

 

"Sorry!"

 

I look up, the wind blowing in misdirection through my hair. I try to hold my hair out of my eyes as I try to sidestep the stranger but he tries to avoid me and takes the same direction as I did. The crab-like sidesteps goes on for an eternal five seconds before we both stop and stare.

 

"Umm."

 

That voice is ringing sirens in my brain and there is only one thing I can see as I glance up to confirm.

 

Eyes. Between black cap and black mask.

 

Large, cat-like eyes with little stars in them. Gleaming.

 

I believe my heart stopped.

 

Unmistakable...

 

"Taka--"

 

I wrap a hand around my mouth before I could blurt out his full name, which I use to call last time.

 

He stares back at me, eyes widening.

 

I pretend to be just another fangirl, giggling as I bow in apology, making my way out of the park, stumbling slightly in my heels on the concrete brick pavement.

 

"God, god, god..." I mumble to myself as I stalk my way through to the entrance, lowering my head to my handbag so I can hide my embarrassed face. Embarrassment, number one. Regret, number two. I didn't stop long enough to have a good look at him close-up.

 

, Takahiro you're getting into my brain!

 

I blame it on the farewell kiss! He was just a punk, why am I so--

 

"Oi!"

 

What? ...

 

"Kiyoe! Kiyoe Kobayashi!"

 

I am really touched he remembers my full name, but this is not the time to be calling it out in full, you brat!

 

"Hey!"

 

Quick footsteps and I am doomed.

 

I lift my handbag up to my face when he spins me around on my heels.

 

"Oi, Kobayashi Sensei."

 

"Huh, of all the time spent with you, this is the time you finally address me as sensei?!"

 

My short-temper got the better of me and I realise how big of a mistake I have made as I slap a hand over my big mouth.

 

His eyes bore intently into mine before the edges crinkle into a laugh.

 

"It's you! Kiyoe!"

 

"Oi, don't address me so impolitely, you brat!"

 

I glare at him sternly. He carries on with his impish smile. Until the expression in our eyes fades away to those befitting an awkward catch-up session. I look away from his gaze and check if any of his friends followed. The park is eerie with the sound of crickets and mellow street lamps. 

 

"Are you going somewhere-- sensei?" He asks, adding the last word when I kept mom.

 

"Yes," I roll my eyes subtly. "I am going home."

 

I turn away to leave but he grips my forearm and drags me to another direction.

 

"I'll send you."

 

"NO thank you, Takahiro! Takahiro Moruichi!!"

 

 

~

 

 

I am stuck on his car, having reluctantly pulled on the safety belt after the constant beeping of the safety device and his stubborn gaze. He's driving me home. And I have also given him my address in reluctance. The GPS is the only thing talking in the car. 

 

I can't even sneak glances at him like a real fangirl because I am absolutely fuming as a teacher. I have many personas right now and they are all hating Takahiro. Except the fangirl. Which identity I am going to exterminate after tonight.

 

"So..." He begins and I pretend I didn't jump from the sudden break of silence. "You watched the concert?"

 

"...Yes?"

 

"Where did you sit?" He asks, with a normal expression. I thought it was supposed to be something near mockery of his teacher paying to watch his concert.

 

"Th-the side? Near the back? I don't remember the category..."

 

"You should've told me. I can get you better seats."

 

I stare at him in surprise, looking somewhat stupid probably, but he just gives a plain look at me matter-of-factly. 

 

"It's ok. It's not like we keep in touch anymore." I am satisfied with my answer.

 

"That's an issue, isn't it? You should probably give me your number." He nods, as if in agreement with something I said but I have absolutely no intention of directing the conversation towards this. There is a subtle smirk on his lips as he nods, prodding me to give in to his request.

 

I feel an incompetent blush creeping up to my cheeks, feeling teased by a brat of an ex-student and being embarrassed by that. I don't like this feeling at all!

 

"Come on, Kobayashi sensei." He hands me his phone--shoves it into my hand, that's more like it. 

 

"How about, no?"

 

He turns to me with a menacing stare. "Do it."

 

"W-what?" 

 

I'm a little intimidated and my fingers tap on the screen to reveal a lockpad. 

 

"It's locked though."

 

"There." He reaches over and swipes a pattern across the screen, unlocking it. Our hands briefly touched and it left a strange burning sensation on my skin.

 

I key in my number really slowly, pausing at the save button before obligingly pressing it when he just drives and ignores my discomfort.

 

I am stuck with the naming.

 

"Kiyoe."

 

"Yes?" I answer on reflex before shaking my head. "It's weird for you to call me that."

 

"Why? We're only five years apart."

 

"Six."

 

"Oh. You're thirty-six already?"

 

I groan. I feel really old.

 

"Sensei still looks really young though."

 

"Thanks. I would appreciate it if you were this nice to me while I was still tutoring you."

 

"I was really bad, I know. I am sorry."

 

I don't say anything to that but only silently look down at my saved contact in his phone. Kiyoe Kobayashi. I don't like the feeling of us becoming at the same level where we should be talking casually as friends. Maybe it's my own complex of being secretly admiring Taka in the wee hours behind a computer screen that I am being self-conscious of talking to him on such terms right now. I would rather it be a teacher-student relationship where I can actually put distance between us. 

 

Right now, the proximity is...

 

"We're here." He stops the car and turns to me. His hair looks a little messy from his organised hairdo during the concert. 

 

"O-oh." I try to get over the charming image of him on stage. "Thank you."

 

"Sensei. Kiyoe."

 

"Y-yes?" my left foot is already out of the car.

 

"I... Can we catch up for a little?"

 

"...Right."

 

I invite him into our house after a series of questions about his identity as a celebrity and if it would be good if we were seen together. He only laughed about the idea of us being on the tabloid together. 

 

It feels uneasy to have him in my house, tossing aside the fact that he’s now in public eye and all— I have my own insecurities.

 

I tell him to take a seat in the living room and takes the time to get drinks while I calm myself down. My brain begins to do impossible flashbacks of every single excruciating memory for the current situation, especially that mind-boggling kiss he gave me at the train station. I am really not regretting this decision…

 

“How was the concert?” He’s beaming.

 

I set the drinks down and sit down beside him, careful with the distance between us. I open my can, feeling restless. Am I overthinking this? He just wants to catch-up with an old time tuition teacher, right?

 

“It’s great. I never knew you could sing.”

 

“Is that a plus point?”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. What are you doing now?”

 

“Same old.”

 

“Still a tuition teacher?”

 

“Yep. Still the same thing. It’s getting more and more competitive though, with the times now. Almost every kid is having tuition.”

 

“You must be earning some good money huh.”

 

“Talk about yourself.”

 

He chuckles. I don’t like how our eyes meet with friendly agreement so I switch on the TV.

 

A music show. Relates to his profession.

 

“The last time I saw you, it was at Asakusa huh?”

 

“You still remember?” He sips from his tea. “Do you have alcohol?”

 

“Excuse me, Takahiro? Drink your tea!”

 

“Miss Kobayashi, I am thirty-years-old.”

 

“Right.” God, it’s been fourteen years.

 

“Fourteen years huh. You haven’t aged a little.”

 

“Thank you for the kind words.”

 

“I’m truthful.” He glances at me. This makes me uncomfortable.

 

We sit in silence for the next half an hour as my eyes dart to the clock every once and then, hoping time would pass quick enough for him to want to leave. Aren’t celebrities very busy?

 

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

 

“It’s my last tour concert tonight.” He grins at me, as if having found the perfect excuse to continue his stay at my house.

 

“Right. It’s really late.”

 

He pauses for a while before bowing slightly. “Yes, sorry for intruding. I should get going.”

 

We didn’t catch up much. It was strange in the first place.

 

I send him to the door. He steps into his shoes, shifting his feet in them to get them into the right place. I smile as genuinely as I can when he looks up.

 

“Be careful on the way back.” I say as I wave.

 

He just stares at me before looking down and pursing his lips. I know this look and it’s bad—

 

“I have to say something.”

 

I smile as politely as I can.

 

“You remember that day, at the train station, where I kis—“

 

“RIGHT. ”

 

“Please forgive me.”

 

I in a breathe of air, almost gasping. 

 

“Right. You were young and… we all make rash decisions sometimes, so…”

 

“But I truly meant it.”

 

“Al——right…”

 

“I’m serious.” He stares at me sternly. 

 

I rub my elbows awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. I do not know what to do!

 

“Sensei, can I call you Kiyoe?”

 

Why is this brat still standing in my house.

 

“Kiyoe-san, at least. Please.”

 

“Kiyoe-san. Kiyoe-san, do you have a boyfriend?”

 

“Taka.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“No I don’t.”

 

“You don’t have a husband, too?”

 

“Takahiro—“

 

“You’re not married right.”

 

“No. But Takahiro—“

 

“Then I am not doing anything wrong. I am not lying when I said I mean it.”

 

“Taka. What are you talking about.”

 

He steps closer to me, seeing me at eye-to-eye because I am standing on the higher platform.

 

“I… like you and I mean it.” He edges forward, his eyes pinning mine. I can’t look away. “I want to kiss Kiyoe-san.”

 

“Taka.” I thought I used a stern voice but it probably came out shaky. I take a step back and he advances forward, stepping up onto the wooden floors with his shoes on, invading my personal space as he closes in. 

 

My mind is a blank and my feelings a jumble.