Chapter 133

One afternoon after school, I was at home, editing the short film for the school festival. The video itself was about 70 percent finished. I was slowly but surely collecting the background music from the students in charge, and it looked like we might be done within the month. That said, I imagined I would need to make some final edits once I saw everything put together. I had my eyes on the computer screen when I saw a notification for an email. It was rare for me to get emails at my desktop address. Was it spam? If I see any suspicious attachments, I’ll just move it to the trash without looking… With this thought at the back of my mind, I opened my inbox and saw the sender: Management Office for the Shinoh Cinema Student Film Competition. “…” There was no way this was some kind of advanced phishing attempt, right? The subject read, About the work you submitted to the short film category. Did I mess up the submission rules somehow? I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as I opened the email. It began with an extremely formal greeting, totally foreign to a high school student like me. After that came a few words of thanks for my submission that was clearly following a template. At a glance, it didn’t sound like I’d messed anything up. There weren’t any sentences like “Your film was really cool!” or anything. It just read like a business letter. But mixed in among the flat, insipid text, was a single line that caught my eye. We award your film, Blue Summer, with the special prize. “Agh, coff, coff?!” What the heck? I started coughing. There, in front of me, was the title I’d chosen at random simply because I couldn’t come up with anything else. “Special prize?! Did they get the address right?! This is the title I came up with, but…” I closed the laptop and stood up. I considered the possibility the email was a scam. “In order to claim the prize, please wire 100,000 yen to the following bank account” …That’s what an actual scam would say. But there was nothing like that in the email. “…What the heck?” I tried clearing my mind and reviewing the facts. And still, the only thing that came out of my mouth was “What the heck?” I opened the laptop again and reread the email. We will send the prize money to your bank of choice, so please indicate the bank name, account number, and payee name in your reply. After that, it said I should contact the management office with any questions. They’re wiring me money? How much was the special prize again? I opened up the website on my phone. Ten thousand yen. It felt so weird to think I was about to get money for a film I had made. “Maybe I was the only participant?” I read over the website and then the email once again. Apparently, this communication was only being sent out to winners, and they asked us not to say anything until the official announcement at the end of the month. I felt like I had top-secret information in my hands. I wanna shout it from the rooftops… “Bubby? You didn’t say ‘Welcome home!’ Stop ignoring me!” I heard Mana angrily stomping her way to my room. “I’m home!!” she yelled the moment she came in. “Uh-huh. Welcome home.” “…What’s wrong? You’re acting weird.” “No, I’m normal. Very normal. Just like any other day.” “Hmm?” Mana tilted her head and peered at my laptop. “You watching porn?” “Wh-whuh?! Don’t look!” I grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back, but she was too strong. “Huh? Huh? Bubby, is this…?” She stared intently at the screen. She’d read it. The cat was out of the bag. “I just got an email about the short film I submitted. I carefully considered the possibility of it being a scam… But it looks like it’s real.” Mana’s bag fell from her arm. “WOOOW! NO WAYYY! WHAAAAT?! I DON’T BELIEVE ITTT!!” Mana slapped my shoulders and head. She was hitting me pretty hard. “Ow! Hey, stop it.” “The special priiize!! Duuuuuuude!!” She grabbed my shoulders and shook me violently. “You’re getting way too excited. Calm down.” “Stop pretending you’re above it all and let loose, Bubby! This is amazing!” “I’m not pretending! I’m happy. It just hasn’t sunk in yet.” All her praise was making me feel awkward. I scratched my head. “Ah!” Mana exclaimed before booting up her phone’s camera and taking a picture of us. “No pictures.” “Why? We gotta treasure the moment. Oh, I’m gonna post it online. I’ll add the caption My bubby’s the best!” She typed out the post with lightning speed. “Wait, nooo! We can’t do that!” “Huh? Why not? I wanna brag about my bubby’s achievements.” “They’re gonna make the announcement at the end of the month, and we’re not supposed to say anything until then.” “They should just tell you that day, then! Weird!” I’d thought the same thing. But well, maybe this was just how they did things. Either way, there was only a week left before the end of the month. It was almost October. “I knew you could do it, Bubby. Hee-hee!” Mana puffed out her chest. “You did?” I cracked a smile. I’d always figured I was pretty useless as her big brother, but maybe this would finally wipe away my sense of inferiority. “Did you tell anyone else yet?” she asked. “No. I don’t know if I’m even allowed to tell people I know.” I could probably tell Fushimi and Torigoe, either way. They weren’t terminally online like Mana was, so they wouldn’t start posting about it. “I see, I see. So I got to hear first. Hee-hee.” Mana looked satisfied at that. Then, as if remembering something, she asked, “Who’re you telling next? Shizu or Hina?” “Fushimi, I think. I’ll be seeing her tomorrow.” “…You should call Shizu.” “Huh?” I supposed she had a point. It wasn’t as though I had to say it in person. “Anything you wanna eat today, Bubby? I’ll make whatever you want.” “Curry.” “All right!” Mana’s short skirt spun as she turned around and headed downstairs. I heard a noise outside and figured she was taking her bike out to go shopping. I texted Torigoe right away. They haven’t made the official announcement yet, but… She read the message while I was typing the follow-up. What? Did you hear a leak about something going on sale? No. But it turns out the film I submitted got a prize. Once again, the text was immediately marked as read, then my phone rang. Torigoe was calling. “Hello?” “He-he-he-hell-lo?” “Torigoe, calm down.” “Um, what? Is this a prank? If so, I d-don’t appreciate it.” “No, it’s for real,” I insisted, my tone serious. “I’m telling the truth.” At last, she seemed to believe me. “The film where I helped out with the screenplay?” “Yup. Thank you for that. Couldn’t have done it without you.” “No, that’s not true. It’s all down to your talent, Takamori!” She sounded unusually hyped up. Talent, huh? I wonder if that’s really true. We spent some time reminiscing about all the work we’d done during summer break, then I warned her that we had to keep it secret before hanging up. Does this mean I was able to bring out Fushimi’s charisma? So I managed to do it. And this was the result… As I thought over the factors that had led me here, the reality of it began to sink in. Sitting in my room, I clenched my fists. The following morning, I was woken by the sound of the doorbell. Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! The loud, intense rings just wouldn’t stop coming. “I recognize this pattern.” My slippers flip-flopped all the way to the door. Just as I’d thought, Himeji was on the other side. “Ryou!” “What? Do you have any idea what time it is?” I yawned. “I just heard from Mana!” “What now?” “She told me about your film!” Himeji said excitedly. Mana… Is she gonna go around telling everyone she can find? I gotta stop her. “Oh, that.” “What do you mean Oh, that? Come on!” “Sorry, I just woke up.” My brain was still foggy. Apparently, Himeji had come all the way to my house after running into Mana. “Anyway, congratulations,” she said. “Thanks,” I replied indifferently. “Hey, Ai’s here.” Fushimi came up behind Himeji and joined us. “Good morning, Ryou.” “Morning.” “Did you hear the news, Hina?” Himeji asked her. “About what?” Himeji glanced at me, silently demanding I explain. “Oh, err, it’s still a secret, but…the short film of mine you acted in won a prize.” “…” Fushimi’s face turned serious, and she froze. “What was that?” “It won the special prize. Thanks…for starring in it.” Finally, I’d gotten to thank her. I’d been meaning to since the day before. Fushimi shoved Himeji aside and entered the house. “You did it, Ryou!” “Really, it’s more like you did it.” “No, it’s your achievement. You filmed it, and you completed it in time! All your hard work is getting recognized!” “It really wasn’t just me…” I was about to mention Torigoe when she interrupted. “This victory is yours and mine!” She jumped at my chest and hugged me hard. “We did it! We did it! We did it!” she cheered artlessly. Mana, Torigoe, Himeji, and Fushimi were all happy to hear the news. Just getting to see their faces made me feel like all the work had been worth the effort. Their smiles made me happy, too. “H-hey, get off him!” Himeji grabbed Fushimi’s shoulders to tear her away from me. “What, Ai? Let us enjoy the moment.” “You can enjoy it without hugging!” Like a boxing referee, Himeji stuck her leg between us to force herself in and finally push us apart. “Gee, what’s the harm? He’s filmed you, too.” Fushimi pouted. “For us, that’s just work,” said Himeji, emphasizing the word work. She brushed her hair aside and snorted. She was definitely trying to one-up the other girl. Fushimi’s mouth twitched. Neither of them had any resistance against the other’s provocations… “Well, if you look at it another way, with your acting skills, work is the only reason he’d film you.” Fushimi sneered. “Isn’t that right, Ai?” “How I wish I could spend my youth however I liked, like you do, my dear jobless Hina. Not only do I have to go to school, all my free time is taken up by practice for my stage play.” Fushimi’s lips trembled. “Why do you have to be such a haughty grouch?! You won’t get any fans like that!” “Grouchiness is no obstacle when you have talent. Keep crying, loser.” Now it was me getting between them. “Take it outside! I still have to get ready for school!” I pushed them out and shut the door. I was still in my pajamas. I looked at the clock—I’d already wasted ten precious minutes of my morning. I changed and grabbed my stuff at triple the usual speed. I could hear their voices outside the whole time—it seemed those two never got tired. On our way to school, I told them to keep it a secret until the official announcement, and they agreed. At that point, I began worrying that maybe I’d gotten it wrong and none of it was real. Maybe I’d hyped everyone up for nothing. Anxiously, I opened the email again, wondering if it was some kind of mistake. I didn’t stop checking it like that until September 30. That day, I woke up unusually early and checked the competition website. It was already updated with the winners from each category, as well as with the evaluators’ comments. My finger trembled as I tapped the link for the short film category. My name…was there. I saw it right away: Ryou Takamori. The email hadn’t been a mistake; the page really did list my name and my short’s title. Aside from the special prize, there was a grand prize and a gold prize. Apparently, over three hundred people had applied. I timidly read the evaluator’s comment on my film. “The school setting is nothing new, but the way it delves into the minutiae of daily life from a personal perspective leaves a solid impression. Despite its rough edges, you can feel the creator’s intent and artistic sense.” P-praise. There was a bit of criticism at the beginning, but… Artistic sense. Artistic sense… Artistic sense......... Those two words were burned into my retinas and kept spinning around in my brain. Then I noticed there was more. “The lead actress, too, is a real talent. Her performance more than makes up for the work’s shortcomings.” With that, the comment ended. Fushimi really was amazing, even from the perspective of a professional. I wanted to toot my own horn, too, for doing so well. Maybe it was just a fluke, but just this once, at least, I’d managed to capture her charm on film. “…” Only my submission’s comment mentioned the acting—the comments on the grand prize winner and those on the gold prize winner had no such notes. “Her performance more than makes up for the work’s shortcomings.” My childhood friend had the looks and talent to make it to the final round of auditions for a stage play without even joining an agency. I couldn’t imagine that an actress of her caliber had participated in any of the other entries. Even if the other directors were able to make the best of their actors, I had a significant advantage. With Fushimi, it was easy to catch the audience’s eye and leave an impression. She was on another level compared to the competition. Didn’t that mean that, if I’d just grabbed any random person from the high school drama club, I would have failed? Basically, I didn’t win this prize…Fushimi did. Clap, clap, clap. I received applause from my classmates that morning during homeroom. “Um, thank you, thank you…” Getting so much attention was super embarrassing. “Fushimi, you told Waka, didn’t you?” Waka handed out a notice first thing in the morning. It was a printout of the film competition’s website announcing my award. “Of course!” she replied. “I saw the website had been updated, and I just had to let the world know!” I sighed in the face of her innocent gaze. “It’s embarrassing.” “I think everyone is happy to hear that the director of our school festival project has got the skills, you know?” Maybe. But I wanted to be the one to tell them when I was ready. …Although, I would never want to boast about my supposed achievement, so I probably would’ve ended up keeping quiet about it forever. “Takayan, congrats!” Deguchi bared his teeth in a huge grin and gave me a thumbs-up. “That’s amazing, Director!” “I knew you were doing a good job when we were filming.” “Takamori might be quiet, but between this and his role as class rep, you can tell he’s actually pretty capable. He’s not half-bad.” Everyone in class was talking about me. I was embarrassed, but it felt kind of nice. I didn’t like being the center of attention, but maybe even that wasn’t so bad, considering the reason. Fushimi cleared her throat dramatically, intimidating those around her. “I know better than anyone that Ryou can achieve whatever he puts his mind to,” she said. “He’s always been like this.” “Stop bragging about how long you’ve known him. It’s super uncool…” Himeji sighed. Fushimi didn’t seem to hear her, though, since no argument ensued. “Did you tell Mr. Matsuda?” Himeji asked me. “I’ll tell him today, since I’ve got work.” “You should. He’s got high hopes for you. I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it. He might even kiss you, he’ll be so excited.” I pursed my lips as the image crossed my mind, and Himeji giggled. “That aside, things are getting serious…” “What things?” “The way the girls in class look at you is entirely different from before the break.” “I noticed that, too,” Fushimi interjected. At some point, she’d put on her glasses, and her brow furrowed intellectually. “Ryou was giving out orders as the director, everyone’s leader. And girls love a capable leader.” “They do?” I tilted my head. Over summer break, the only girls I’d interacted with were Fushimi, Himeji, and Torigoe; I hadn’t had any meaningful exchanges with anyone else. “Hina’s analysis makes sense,” said Himeji. “As I see it, part of the reason is that everyone has learned how talented you are, despite your usual tendency to fade into the background…” “Yes, that makes sense. Ryou might be unsociable, but he’s a good, kind boy at heart.” I couldn’t tell if they were praising me or dissing me. What’s more, I’d prefer they didn’t analyze me to my face. “Yes, yes, everyone quiet down,” said Waka. “All students will be gathering at the gym, so let’s go.” Chairs rattled as everyone stood up. “Oh, Takamori!” Waka stopped me. “Just a heads-up, you’re going to be called on.” “Called on?” By who? What about? “The principal is going to talk about your award.” “Whaaat?!” Wh-when did things start escalating out of my control?! Waka had learned about it from Fushimi, and she’d probably told everyone in the staff room. “The day has finally come when everyone finds out about you…,” Torigoe muttered bitterly. “In no time at all, my childhood friend will become the most popular kid in school…,” murmured Fushimi. “Don’t forget about me, Ryou…” The most popular kid in school is you. Himeji poked my chest with her index finger. “Don’t get cocky. You still don’t know anything about the real world.” “You’re the only one being strict with me, huh?” “Yes. It is still too soon for you to feel content.” Himeji smirked and ushered me onward. She had this ambition, this drive for self-improvement that went beyond a normal high schooler’s. When we arrived at the gym, a regular school meeting took place. Then my name was called, just like Waka had said. It was painful getting up onstage. I didn’t want every single student looking at me. The principal explained the competition and announced I had won an award. The reaction was not particularly huge, but everyone clapped, like in homeroom. I was getting all the attention, but as the evaluator’s comment had stated, Fushimi was a big part of why I’d won, and Torigoe had played a significant role as well. I decided to be very clear about that if anyone asked for details. A few people did come up to me as we left the gym, both from our class and others. I figured that would be it, but more people came to see me at the end of every period. “I also love movies,” a girl in the drama club told me. I could feel the pitch-black aura audibly emanating from Fushimi, who was sitting on my right. “I think I like them more than she does,” she said. Why was she making this a competition? “She looks like a poser,” she continued. “Stop acting like you’re so cool,” I shot back. Weren’t you a people pleaser? Stop being so aggressive. The girl couldn’t stand the awkward mood and left with a forced smile on her face. Then another girl stopped by. “I’ve been making videos on my phone, do you have any advice?” She wanted to know how to improve the videos she posted on social media. “Oh, that’s easy.” My interest in film had started when I began editing videos for Mana’s account, after all. As I tried to explain, however, I felt another pitch-black aura emanating from Himeji, who was sitting on my left. It, too, seemed to rumble in my ears. You too, Himeji? “Do you really need to ask him about that? Just look it up on the Internet,” she said, openly hostile. “Huh? Wha? Who asked you?” “I’m just stating the facts.” Why are you starting arguments? I tried smoothing it over, but the girl left extremely angry. I heard a muffled chuckle and turned around to find Torigoe’s shoulders rocking up and down. “Stop laughing and help me stop them,” I said. “Sorry. But it’s no wonder you’re not very popular, what with the gods of wind and thunder parked on either side of you.” The god of wind on my right side was watching the classroom door, checking whether anyone else was coming. The god of thunder on my left fumed and grumbled, “For starters, I am way more popular than Ryou.” Now you’re coming after me? What gives? “Seems they have your defense covered. I’m relieved.” Torigoe laughed again. Meanwhile, my “defense” ignored any and all guys who approached me. Whenever a friendly guy from some sports club or a nerdy dude came by, Fushimi would say, “Ryou, this is your chance to make friends.” “They can hear you, you know? It’s embarrassing.” “Um, as you can see, Ryou is introverted and sometimes pretentious, but he is not a bad person!” Himeji joined in. “Don’t give me an introduction, either. That’s even more embarrassing!” And aren’t you mostly dissing me? I figured I might get a few more days in the limelight, and that would be it. Fushimi and I were walking to the station after school when I felt my cell phone vibrate for an unusually long time. It turned out to be a call from an unknown number—from another cell phone. The only possibility I could think of was that, since Mana had been telling everyone at her school about my award, it might be an old acquaintance from middle school who’d heard the news. “Sorry, I gotta pick this up.” Fushimi flashed me the “okay” sign. “Yes, hello?” “This is Wakatsuki from Top Agency speaking.” It was a man I didn’t know. Was it a wrong number? “Yes?” “Is this Ryou Takamori?” “Yes, that’s me.” Wakatsuki… Who’s that? Hmm, wait. I think I’ve heard that name somewhere. Top Agency sounds familiar, too. “Congratulations on your award. I was one of the judges in the competition.” Oh, right. It was the name of the entertainment office listed on the competition website. “Thank you very much.” If I remembered correctly, this Mr. Wakatsuki was one of the agency’s top brass. What did he want with me? Could it be…he was scouting me? Maybe he’d been so enamored with my film that he wanted to lock me in as a video director or something while I was still young. I got anxious all of a sudden. I felt my face grow hot and my fingers tremble as they held up the phone. “I-is something the matter?” “Your short film was very good.” I had no idea where this was going; I could only wait for him to continue. Fushimi looked at me curiously from a distance. She must’ve realized I wasn’t speaking with a friend. “It didn’t have any credits, did it?” “Oh, right. It didn’t. Was I supposed to add them?” “It doesn’t affect your evaluation, but most people do.” Mr. Wakatsuki let out a low-pitched chuckle. “Is the girl in your film a friend from school?” “Yes, she is.” “I want you to tell me about her.” Something about this felt off, so I made sure to answer his questions without giving away any of her personal information. …So it wasn’t me he was interested in. It should have been obvious from the beginning which of us was more compelling. “I asked her to star in it because she was taking acting lessons.” “I see, I see.” Mr. Wakatsuki gave a subdued reply before asking, “Would you mind putting her in contact with me?” I told him I would ask her about it, before hanging up. He said to give her the number he’d used to call me. I put my phone back in my pocket, and Fushimi looked at me suspiciously. “Who was that, Ryou?” “Err… One of the judges from the competition.” “Wha?! A-and?! What did they say?!” Fushimi’s eyes lit up. I should tell her, but I don’t know anything about that guy. I don’t even know if he is who he says he is. Maybe I should get confirmation first. “He praised the film and the actress.” “Oh! That’s awesooome! They even mentioned me!” She punched the air. “They talked about me in the evaluator’s comment, too. Oh gosh… I’m so hyped!” “I only won because of you. Thank you. I mean it.” Fushimi laughed cheerily. “I owe you my thanks, too, for asking me to help you. We won because we were both great, right?” “I hope so…” A shadow passed over my face as I thought back to the phone call. “I’m sure neither of us could have done it alone,” Fushimi said. She was so happy, she was practically skipping. “Now let’s make that school festival short just as amazing and famous!” “That’s not happening.” “Yes, it is!” Fushimi grinned mischievously. I had work, so we said good-bye at the station and boarded trains going in opposite directions. “Wakatsuki? From Top Agency? Yeah, I know him.” Mr. Matsuda glanced at me as he filed his fingernails. “He called me today,” I said. “Did he, now?” He raised an eyebrow. I was in the middle of my job answering emails at Himeji’s agency, Reiji Performing Arts. “What’s he want with you, Ry?” “I submitted a short film to a Shinoh Cinemas competition and won the special prize and…” “W-wait, you did what?!” “Anyway, that’s not what I want to talk about.” “I—I—I—I—I said wait!” I’d already gone through this reaction way too many times and just wanted to get to the point. “We gotta celebrate! Get Aika here!” “Thank you, but please let me finish.” “Gosssshhh! Stop putting on airs!” He snorted. At last, he seemed ready to listen, and I told him about the call. “I don’t like it one bit,” he said. “He’s just using you to get to Fushimi.” His manly remark—perhaps gallant was a better word, since I didn’t want to make him mad—instantly cleared up the hazy feeling in my chest. “Are you gonna shoot him down? You haven’t told her yet, have you?” “I was thinking of ignoring it if he or his agency weren’t the real deal.” “So that’s why you asked me.” “Yes, exactly.” I gave him the phone number the man had used. It seemed that, though Mr. Matsuda wasn’t too familiar with him, he did have him listed in his cell phone contacts. He looked at both screens with an annoyed expression. “That’s the right number. Keiji Wakatsuki, Top Agency’s CEO. Look him up.” I did as I was told and searched his name on the web. I ended up on the company’s home page, which was plastered with pictures of their talent. I could see a lot of young actors and models from recent commercials and TV dramas. Another page featured a photo of Wakatsuki himself. “They’re in the same business as us, but their agency is still pretty new, and they’re quite ambitious,” said Mr. Matsuda. “So he is real.” “That he is.” Still, something bugged me about the way Mr. Matsuda was talking about this Wakatsuki guy. Right from the beginning, I got the impression he didn’t like him very much. “Fushimi has already failed a few auditions for other companies,” I said. “I think this could be her lucky break. It sounded like he recognized her talent.” “Why don’t you ask her, then? You can rest assured the company is real. Leave it up to her.” “I will.” “Unhappy about something?” “Huh?” “It’s written all over your face… Remember, Ry, in the end, the director is someone who works behind the scenes. It’s impossible to stand out more than the actors. Only a few auteurs ever earn that kind of recognition.” I didn’t know how Mr. Matsuda did it, but every once in a while, it was like he could read my mind. I hated how right he was. Many times, he’d give me the approval I craved or console me when I couldn’t get it elsewhere. He had a really sharp eye. “…I just can’t help thinking, after that phone call, that people liked Fushimi’s acting way more than my composition, framing, and editing.” When I tried to put my frustrations into words, Mr. Matsuda snorted. “Don’t underestimate the professionals. You’re not the only one who worries about stuff like that, Ry. And rest assured, those in the know are giving you a good look.” I felt more at ease after hearing that. Even so, I was positive Fushimi must’ve been a lot more attractive than the other films’ actors. “But forget about all that for now! We’ve gotta throw you a party!” Mr. Matsuda grinned and started writing something down in his notebook.