Chapter 136

I told Fushimi about Wakatsuki as she, Himeji, and I made our way to school. “The head of an agency who was a judge for my short said he wanted to get in contact with you after seeing your performance.” “With me?” She widened her eyes in surprise. “After seeing my performance?” She spoke in a low voice as if still digesting what I’d said. “You know anything about Top Agency, Himeji?” “I’ve heard of them,” she replied. “I don’t have a lot of info, but I know some girls who work for them.” Apparently, she knew them well enough that they’d say hello whenever they met on the job. “They have a website with more information,” I told Fushimi. “So you can take a look at it later.” “Y-yeah!” Fushimi nervously took out her phone and tapped away. She was probably pulling up the website as we spoke. “I got confirmation from Mr. Matsuda that they’re legit, by the way.” “R-really?!” I’d decided to give her his number if she showed interest. Who would’ve thought that my short film would become Fushimi’s big break? “Ryou, we gotta celebrate! Let’s go all out! We can go to a karaoke place, a net café, order some pizza, go for some sushi…!” “That’s…certainly going all out… Yeah, let’s do it.” “All right!” I’d just received my award money, so I could cover all of it. I wouldn’t have won without Fushimi, after all. “…” I felt a prickling sensation in my chest. Every time it happened, I remembered what Mr. Matsuda had said: “In the end, the director is someone who works behind the scenes.” Himeji was peering into my face. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” I asked. “You are free this weekend, aren’t you, Ryou?” “Can’t you phrase that more like a question?” She was right, though, I was. “There’s a SakuMome concert Saturday evening. Want to go?” Does Fushimi have a date in mind for the party? I glanced over at her. “Party… I can’t wait…,” she muttered. She was lost in her own world, but it didn’t seem like the party was happening right away. “Mr. Matsuda got me two tickets,” Himeji continued. “The girls want me to go, it seems.” I noticed an unusual darkness in her eyes. SakuMome—Sakurairo Moment—was the idol group she’d previously belonged to. Himeji had quit due to poor health and had moved back here. I figured she was asking me to come along because it was hard for her to go alone. Maybe it felt like going to watch a game played by your former team. “It’ll be a good distraction,” she said. “In that case, let’s go,” I replied. Himeji’s face lit up. She seemed to notice her own change in expression and shook her head. Reining in her emotions, she put on her usual composed look and continued haughtily, “The girls are all very cute, though not as cute as I am. And they’ll be dancing and singing and throwing smiles at everyone.” “Hmm? So what?” “I’m saying, don’t get the wrong impression! They don’t care about you in the slightest.” “You don’t need to tell me that.” I sighed. What kind of person do you think I am? Third and fourth period that day were taken up by home economics. We were practicing cooking. Students formed teams of four, so I naturally ended up with my two childhood friends and Torigoe. They each wore their own apron, and somehow, that was enough to make them look like homemakers. The teacher wrote down the recipe for each dish on the blackboard and explained what we’d be doing. That day’s recipes could also be found in our textbooks: seasoned rice with pork miso soup and boiled spinach. A very typical Japanese menu. “You can cook, Hina?” “Better than you, Ai. That’s for sure.” Himeji snorted derisively. “You wish. Pathetic.” Are you sure you should be talking, Himeji? Surely you haven’t forgotten the detergent soup you served me? “Again with the quarreling,” Torigoe muttered to herself. “You can actually cook, right?” I said. “Yup. And more than just boiled pumpkin, unlike a certain someone,” she replied. Oh, Fushimi… She isn’t wrong, either. “Himeji looks like she’d cook up some wacky stuff, too. So I’m pretty sure I’m the best cook here.”