[7] One More Hour

A piercing scream jolted me awake. My eyes snapped open, heart pounding. Someone was in my apartment.

I crouched low. Shadows danced across the walls. A figure moved near the window.

My hand closed around a heavy paperweight on my desk. I hefted it, muscles tensed to spring.

"Who's there?" a trembling voice called out.

I froze. Marin. The events of yesterday came rushing back.

"Marin, it's okay. You're safe," I said, setting down the paperweight.

She whimpered, huddled against the wall. "Where am I? What happened?"

I flicked on a lamp. Marin blinked in the sudden light, hair mussed.

"You're in my apartment. There was an... incident at the photoshoot. I brought you here to keep you safe."

Her brow furrowed. "I don't... remember..."

"Someone may have drugged your drink," I explained gently. "I couldn't take you home since I didn't know your address."

Marin's eyes welled with tears. "Oh god. Did... did anything...?"

"No," I said firmly. "Nothing happened to you. I made sure of it."

She nodded, shoulders sagging with relief. Then she glanced around the small studio apartment, taking in the sparse furnishings and piles of books.

"I'm sorry for screaming," she mumbled. "I just woke up somewhere strange and panicked."

"It's understandable," I assured her. "How are you feeling now?"

Marin rubbed her temples. "My head hurts. And I'm so tired."

I checked the time. 3:47 AM glowed on my clock.

"It's still early," I said. "You should try to get more sleep."

She bit her lip, looking uncertain. "I... I don't know if I can. I'm still scared."

Something in her voice tugged at me. I remembered feeling that same fear, that vulnerability, in my past life.

"Would it help if I stayed close by?" I offered. "I can sit next to the futon while you sleep."

Marin nodded gratefully. "Please. I'd feel safer."

I settled down on the floor next to the futon, leaning back against the wall. Marin curled up under the blanket, eyes still wide and wary. 

"Try to rest," I said gently. "I'll be right here."

She nodded, clutching the edge of the blanket. I could see her hands trembling. Poor girl must have been terrified, waking up in a strange place with no memory of how she got there. I knew that feeling all too well.

Marin's eyes started to drift shut, only to snap open again at some small sound from outside - the rumble of a passing truck, the hoot of an owl. Each time, her shoulders tensed and she glanced around nervously.

"It's okay," I murmured. "Just ordinary night noises. Nothing to worry about." 

Gradually her eyelids grew heavier, blinking slowly. But she continued startling awake every few minutes.

On impulse, I began to hum softly, an old lullaby I vaguely remembered from childhood. Back before everything went wrong. 

The gentle melody filled the quiet room. Marin's eyelids fluttered shut once more, her breathing beginning to deepen. 

This time she didn't startle. The soothing tune seemed to ease her anxiety, her fists slowly uncurling from the blanket. I kept humming as Marin's features smoothed into sleep.

Without thinking, I reached out and brushed a strand of pink hair from her cheek. She leaned into my touch, lips curving into a hint of a smile.

Something wet trickled down my own cheek. I touched it, surprised to find tears. Crying over a lullaby and a sleeping girl. Foolish sentimentality. 

And yet... it also felt like something inside me had cracked open. Something hard and cold I'd almost forgotten was there.

I quickly wiped my eyes. This was no time for weakness. I would keep watch over Marin until morning. Make sure no one could hurt her.

For now, that purpose was enough to steady me. I resumed my humming, softer now. Marin's hand found mine in the darkness, holding on tightly even in sleep.

The next thing I knew, sunlight was streaming through the curtains. I jolted awake, momentarily confused. Sometime in the night I must have drifted off. 

The smell of sizzling meat wafted from the kitchen. I turned to see Marin standing over the stove, poking at something in a frying pan.

She glanced up with a smile. "Oh good, you're awake! I hope you don't mind, I raided your fridge to make us some breakfast."

I watched as Marin bustled around my tiny kitchen, her blonde hair swaying with each movement. She still had on my t-shirt, which hung loosely on her frame.

"Here you go!" Marin chirped, setting a plate in front of me. "It's not much, but I worked with what I had."

I stared down at the dish. The rice was unevenly cooked, some grains still crunchy while others were mushy. The meat - was it supposed to be chicken? - looked charred on one side and suspiciously pink on the other. A few sad, wilted vegetables completed the ensemble.

Marin plopped down across from me, beaming with pride. "Dig in!"

I picked up my chopsticks, acutely aware of her expectant gaze. The least I could do was eat it without complaint. She'd put effort into this, after all.

I took a bite.-

My eyes widened involuntarily. The flavors assaulted my taste buds - somehow simultaneously bland and overpowering. The texture was... interesting, to say the least.

"Well?" Marin asked eagerly. "How is it?"

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. "It's... unique."

She clapped her hands together. "Oh good! I was worried since I'm not much of a cook."

I nodded, taking another bite to avoid speaking. It wasn't the worst thing I'd ever eaten, but it was far from good. Still, seeing Marin's bright smile as she dug into her own plate made it somewhat bearable.

We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. I found myself studying Marin, trying to reconcile the bubbly girl before me with the terrified, vulnerable one from last night.

"So," Marin said between bites, "about yesterday..."

I tensed, unsure of what was coming.

She set down her chopsticks, meeting my gaze. "Thank you. For looking out for me, I mean. That could have ended really badly if you hadn't been there."

"Anyone would have done the same," I deflected.

Marin shook her head. "No, they wouldn't. Most people would have just looked the other way. You went above and beyond."

I shifted uncomfortably under her earnest gaze. If only she knew the things I'd done in my past life. The people I'd hurt, manipulated, betrayed. I didn't deserve her gratitude.

"It was nothing," I mumbled.

"It wasn't nothing to me," Marin insisted. She reached across the table, placing her hand on mine. "You made me feel safe when I was scared out of my mind. That means a lot."

I pulled my hand away, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. This girl's sincerity was too much. It made me acutely aware of the vast gulf between who I pretended to be and who I really was.

"We should probably get ready," I said, abruptly changing the subject. "The agency will want to know what happened."

Marin's face fell slightly at my brusque tone, but she nodded. "Right, of course. Um, do you mind if I borrow some clothes? Mine are still a bit... damp."

I gestured towards my closet. "Help yourself. There's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom too."

As Marin rummaged through my meager wardrobe, I cleared the breakfast dishes. My stomach churned, and I wasn't sure if it was from the questionable meal or the weight of Marin's misplaced trust.

I'd protected her, yes. But not out of any inherent goodness. It was calculated, a way to build my reputation and cement my place in this new world. Wasn't it?

But then why did her smile make my chest ache? Why did I feel the urge to be worthy of her gratitude?

I shook my head, banishing the thoughts. I couldn't afford to get soft now. Not when I was just starting to build my new life.

Marin emerged from the bathroom, swimming in one of my oversized hoodies and a pair of rolled-up jeans. "Ready when you are!"

Marin and I made our way to the Rising Star Agency to meet with Mio and discuss yesterday's events. The train ride over was uneventful, though I kept a watchful eye on our surroundings, wary of any potential threats. Marin chattered on about her cosplay plans, seemingly unfazed by her ordeal. I envied her ability to bounce back so quickly. 

When we arrived at the agency, Mio ushered us into her office, her usually coiffed hair looking slightly frazzled. 

"Thank goodness you're both alright," she said, motioning for us to sit. "I've been worried sick since I got Kenji's message last night."

Marin gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, thanks to Akira here." She patted my arm in a familiar way that made me tense up.

"Yes, Kenji said you took good care of Marin and kept her safe. I can't thank you enough for that, Akira."

I shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. "Anyone would've done the same."

"I doubt that," Mio said gravely. She turned to Marin. "What do you remember from yesterday, dear?"

Marin furrowed her brow. "Not much. I was feeling dizzy during the shoot, and then everything gets kind of fuzzy after that. Akira filled me in on the rest this morning."

Mio nodded. "The police suspect someone spiked your drink from that street vendor. We're just relieved nothing worse happened."

"I guess it's a good thing my parents are away on business as usual," Marin said with a rueful laugh. "At least I didn't have to explain this mess to them."

"Yes, well, lessons learned," Mio said briskly, shuffling some paperwork on her desk. "We'll have to be more vigilant about security at these outdoor shoots going forward." 

She turned her sharp gaze to me. "And Akira, I can't tell you how pleased I am with how you handled this situation. You kept your head and protected your fellow model. That shows real professionalism and character."

"I only did what anyone would do," I mumbled again.

Mio smiled. "Take the compliment, dear. Not everyone has the courage to act when it counts." 

I nodded silently. Arguing would only draw more attention to myself. Better to let her believe I was some kind of hero.

"Well, I won't keep you two any longer," Mio said, standing up. "I'm sure you could use more rest after the excitement. You'll both be fully compensated for yesterday and we'll be in touch soon about rescheduling that shoot."

Marin and I said our goodbyes and headed out. As we walked, she slipped her hand into mine and gave it a squeeze.

"Thanks again for everything," she said softly. "I'm really glad I met you, Akira."

Warmth bloomed in my chest at her words. And despite my best efforts at self-preservation, I found myself hoping I could call her a friend. Just for a little while longer.