Chapter 139

I could tell from her tone of voice that she didn’t mean physically. Just then, something crossed my mind. It was like a dark haze—it enveloped me, paralyzing my body and mind. “I’m serious, you know,” she said. “You can’t really…” “What?” She glared at me mischievously. I raised my hands in surrender, and she burst into laughter. “You don’t need to try and find ulterior motives behind what I do.” Ulterior…? But I don’t… Or was I doing it subconsciously…? As I mulled this over, the taxi came to a stop. We paid and got out of the car in front of the restaurant. Decorative plants whose names I didn’t know adorned the entrance. Inside the dimly lit establishment, several couples were dining, wineglasses in hand. “I believe there’s a reservation for Matsuda,” I said to the clerk who received us. “We were waiting for you,” he said, showing us inside. Himeji and I sat next to each other in a booth. Himeji seemed as restless as I was and kept looking from side to side. It was kind of adorable. The restaurant’s interior and furnishings were chic, and we felt hopelessly out of place. Where’s Mr. Matsuda…? “Ah,” Himeji exclaimed. “What?” “Mr. Matsuda said he’ll be late and that we can start without him.” She showed me her phone, displaying his emoji-filled text. I’ll pay for everything, so let Ry know you can order whatever you like. I was relieved to hear that; this place looked expensive. “…He should’ve known not to make the reservation for right after the concert,” Himeji grumbled. Since it sounded like Mr. Matsuda would be a while, we called over a waiter and ordered drinks and food. Salad, pasta, and pizza—and they were all about double the price I was used to. Himeji and I chatted as we enjoyed the food and battled with the unfamiliar cutlery. “This is pretty good.” Himeji smiled broadly after her first bite of the pasta. Next, she gulped down her amber-colored drink served in a tall glass. What did the waiter say it was called? It sounded like a special attack from some edgy anime. “Phewww, that’s good.” “It’s not booze, is it?” “It’s a nonalcoholic cocktail.” I guess it’s fine, then… Wait, is it? “Which is better, this or Mana’s cooking?” she asked. “This, I think.” “Ah! The mask has finally slipped! I gotta tell her!” “No! Don’t!” I would get a beating as soon as I got home, and she’d let me starve for the next few days. Himeji was only kidding, thankfully. She giggled. “Is that really alcohol-free?” I asked. “Why don’t you try it and seeee?!” Himeji’s speech was starting to sound a little slurred. Suddenly, she linked arms with me and got so close, our shoulders were touching. She insisted I try some of the drink and brought the glass up to my mouth. I gave in. …It tasted lightly carbonated, but I didn’t detect any alcohol. “You’re too close,” I said. “This is how everyone’s sitting.” The other private seats I’d glimpsed on our way here were occupied by couples snuggling up together, clearly in romance mode. “It’s actually more embarrassing if we keep our distance,” she insisted. “Where’s the logic in that?” Himeji flagged down a waiter as he passed by and ordered another drink with a ridiculously long name. Since Mr. Matsuda had promised to pay, she was putting in orders left and right. A drink would arrive, and she would gulp it down on the spot and hand the empty glass back to the waiter. Now she was clinging to my arm like a koala. “………They didn’t tell me…,” she mumbled. “Who? What?” “They’re adding a kiss scene to the stage play.” “O-oh.” “The director and Mr. Matsuda asked me…and I said yes.” “I see.” “I—I didn’t want them to know I haven’t k-kissed anyone before!” “There’s no need to get all bent out of shape over something like that.” “I’d never hear the end of it from the younger girls.” Aren’t you the youngest one? Himeji had a lot of pride, and this sounded just like her. “In any case, I don’t know if we’ll kiss for real in the play, but for practice…I will kiss you now.” “Wh-wha?! What did you just say?!” I panicked, but Himeji seemed dead serious. “It’s the perfect opportunity.” “No. And look where we are… We’re in public.” “No one will see us as long as we don’t call a waiter. The other diners wouldn’t be so rude as to spy on us.” “That’s not the issue.” “Then am I the issue?” Himeji’s eyes wavered, her usual confidence gone. “No, that’s not it…,” I said. “You seem to be totally devoid of self-awareness, Ryou. So I, Goddess Ai, will free you from your curse.” “What are you talking about? Curse…? You’re drunk.” Himeji giggled weakly. “I’m not. I told you those were nonalcoholic. I may have called Hina a bad girl…but I am pretty bad myself. Bad enough to provide you with the proper mood and excuse to accept a kiss from me. I hope you can forgive my adorable wiles.” She whispered into my ear as she grabbed my shoulders and brought her face up to mine. Her flushed cheeks drew near, and her supple, cherry-colored lips softly touched mine. I could see myself reflected in her moist eyes. Himeji pulled back and caressed her lips with a finger before turning her back on me. “………I—I should’ve brushed my teeth first…” “Same…” Though she didn’t exactly give me a chance. My brain had slowed down, and I was still catching up with what had just happened. “That wasn’t your first, was it?” she asked. “………No.” “So you admit it!” She slapped my cheek lightly. “Ow!” “You cheater! Who gave you permission to kiss someone else?! I-it had to be Hina, right?!” “What do you mean it had to be her?” It was, of course. “You promised me first! Gosh! You awful cheater!” Himeji stomped on my foot. That hurt, but if it helps you calm down, go ahead… “H-how many times did you do it?” “Just once. It just sort of happened…” “I see. Just once, eh?” Himeji nodded, seemingly satisfied. “So you’re not smooching every chance you get?” “No.” “I’m still mad, but I guess it could be worse. I forgive you.” The goddess had granted me her pardon. “And besides, this one was just, like, practice. You just happened to be convenient. That’s all.” She spoke quickly, as though she’d prepared the excuse beforehand. “Don’t use me for practice…” “Then you want me to go kissing other men? Ai’s lips aren’t so cheap.” “I never said that.” Himeji laughed out loud. She was oddly amped up. She was talking more than usual and wouldn’t stop drinking and eating. Maybe she was trying to hide her embarrassment over the kiss. Himeji tilted her head and stared at me. “What would you do if I said I want to practice some more?” “I’d give you a plushie.” “Gosh! You’re so dishonest!” She leaned close to me again, still in high spirits. Hina Fushimi I arrived at the Top Agency offices wearing the clothes Mana chose for me. Mr. Wakatsuki said he wanted to meet and discuss things with me in person. It seemed he wasn’t going to simply ask me to join their agency after seeing the short. “Aww… I’m shaking…” The office was in a high-rise building; I double-checked the floor inside the elevator before pushing the button marked 25. Ryou was on a date with Ai that day. They were going to have dinner after seeing a concert. I wanted to go with them, but I had the interview. Begrudgingly, I had to tell them to go without me. What were they doing now? I wanted to believe that Ai was too stubborn to try anything forceful, but… I got off the elevator and followed the signs down the hallway until I found a door that looked right. “G-good afternoon…? I’m Hina Fushimi…” A few women in plain clothes were working at their computers. They all looked so smart and fashionable. One of them noticed me. “Ms. Fushimi? I heard from Wakatsuki. Please follow me.” “Y-yes. Fank hew…” I fumbled my words, and she giggled. Then she took me to a sort of drawing room and asked me to sit on the sofa. “He’ll be here soon. Please make yourself at home.” “Y-yes.” I remained stiff and paralyzed as I waited, going over the Q&A list I’d made for myself the night before. At least I tried to go over it—my nerves erased everything from my mind. I imagined the guy couldn’t be too weird, since he was the CEO and important enough to be a judge in a film competition, but… “I’ve got work for you in the adult film industry.” What if he said something like that? I guess I’d have to refuse and head straight for the door. After waiting restlessly for about twenty minutes, I heard a knock. I immediately straightened up. “Apologies.” A man in his early thirties wearing a fancy suit entered; he had a low voice and a stylish mustache. “I’m Wakatsuki. Pleased to meet you.” I stood up and bowed. “I-i-i-it’s m-m-my pleachur. I’m Hina Fushimi.” I fumbled my words again and blushed. “Sit down, please. And relax, I don’t bite.” “Yes,” I said, then sat back down. He made small talk after our introductions, and, once I was relaxed, he cut to the chase. “I take it you want to be an actress, Hina?” “Y-yes. I starred in a play once…” I told him about it, and he recognized the name. “Oh, one of that guy’s… But I’ll be honest, realistically, it’s difficult to jump straight into being an actress. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you see, while you can apply to auditions and such, it would be hard for you to get a named role.” “I see.” I let my shoulders droop. Mr. Wakatsuki went on to explain. High-school-aged roles usually went to people in their early twenties, as students like me weren’t considered ready yet. On the other hand, for even younger roles, child actors with history and experience always had the upper hand. “To start out, you’ll have to play extras, characters simply named Girl A and such.” “Th-that’s okay. I understand.” I was well aware that getting a starring role right off the bat would be difficult, so while it was disappointing to hear it spelled out, it wasn’t unexpected. “In any case, that’s how it’d be if you were to join us. If you know of somewhere else that could market you better, then you might be better off going with them.” I wouldn’t be here if I did. The other interviews I’d had always went too far. Some places even asked me to be judged in a swimsuit. I had old guys stare at my face, my chest, my legs… It was disgusting. “By the way, Hina, how is your mother doing these days?” Memories of her from my childhood flashed through my mind. “My mother? What…do you mean?” “You’re not close with her?” “I rarely speak to her. I just get presents on my birthday, and that’s it…” “I see. When I was young, Satomi Ashihara was very famous. I heard her name frequently after getting into the industry, too. She hasn’t had many starring roles recently, but she’s a good actress with a strong presence.” I only knew her as my mother. She left when I was little, so I barely remembered her to begin with, and I hadn’t seen much of her work. Honestly, his praise for her as an actress meant nothing to me. “I imagine one of the reasons her career continued for so long is because she’s in the biggest agency.” “My mother has nothing to do with me or my work,” I stated plainly. I didn’t want to hear about my talent being genetic or something that came from my mother or whatever. “So you don’t think your relationship is likely to improve?” “No. She lives for her work. She has no interest in me.” I got the feeling that she’d only see me as an acquaintance even if I entered the industry. “Hmm… I see… That’s a shame,” he said. A shame…? “I am sorry to have wasted your time. You can go now.” He stood up. “Huh?” But you said nothing about my acting, or what I should do to join you, or the terms, or anything… Did he really not care about me or my acting? Just my mother? Was he simply trying to use me to get in contact with her? “E-excuse me! What about me…joining your agency…?” I couldn’t stay quiet, but he seemed to have already lost interest in me. He spoke flatly. “Hina, listen. This industry is very small. I heard you’ve been failing your auditions. There is a reason for that. Girls who have charm, who make you think This is it—they pass easily. Even when they have a shortcoming or two.” They pass easily… I thought of Ai. “You auditioned for seven places and got nothing. That means they saw nothing special about you.” In the face of his cold facts, I could say nothing. All that came out were tears. I know that better than anyone else. “I understand you look up to the industry, with all its glamor… You want to become a celebrity, right?” “I… Yes.” “I’ll introduce you to the CEO of another agency. You’ll have to deal with some things you may not like, but…” That’s the look. Those eyes. Those foul, moist eyes, staring at me—at my face, my eyes, my chest, my hips, my thighs, my legs. And all the while, I could feel something precious inside me wearing thin as I simply endured. “You must put up with it if you want to join us. You need that endurance, that ambition, in order to become something from nothing.” I bit my lip hard, trying to keep everything inside. I might have blurted out something I shouldn’t have otherwise. Or maybe I would’ve just sobbed. I stood up, bowed, and left the room. The tears kept coming. He didn’t care about me. He only called me here because of my mother. He knew I’d been failing my auditions, and that’s why he made me that offer. It hurt so bad. I felt so miserable. I couldn’t stand the harshness of reality. Soon, my tears completely blocked out my vision. Ryou Takamori “Mr. Matsuda says he’ll come later to pay,” Himeji told me after checking her phone. Both of us had eaten like animals; I wondered how much it would be. Probably over 10,000 yen. According to Himeji, Mr. Matsuda was a regular at this place, and he had the pull to delay payment. He sure was one amazing guy—or gal?—to be a regular here. “I gotta make a pit stop,” I said. “Okay. I’ll wait for you outside.” Himeji left the restaurant alone. My heart pounded as I watched her go, but the staff showed no sign of stopping her for leaving without paying. On my way to the restroom, I heard the high-pitched laughter of a woman and the low chuckle of a man. “Hmm! I only got a glimpse, but she looked cute!” “She’s got a nice face, that’s for sure. But nothing to write home about.” That low voice… I recognized it. “And still, the CEO calls her to his office!” The woman giggled. “I thought I should give the girl a reality check.” “You’re so mean!” Despite her words, it didn’t sound like she was actually criticizing him. “I saw her crying. You slammed her during the interview, didn’t you?” “Please, I didn’t go that far. And she didn’t cry in front of me.” After hearing that voice and part of their conversation, I ended up eavesdropping. I had a feeling I knew what they were talking about. A pretty girl. An interview. And that voice. Could they be talking about Fushimi? Was that Mr. Wakatsuki? “I thought she might have Satomi Ashihara’s or her agency’s contact, but it turned out that wasn’t the case.” Satomi Ashihara was Fushimi’s mother. And that meant…he’d used her. “And? You didn’t let her join?” “Well, that’s up to her. I told her I could introduce her to another agency or she could join ours, but I wasn’t going to let her in for free. She had to put in the work, if you know what I mean.” “Ugh, you pig!” “You know it’s not like that for everyone. There are the girls we want in, and the ones who have to work for it. Say whatever you want… Now, give me a minute.” They’d said Fushimi was crying. I knew how excited she’d been about that meeting. The weight of her dream of becoming an actress was so much greater than mine. I’d filmed that short for fun, but she was seriously depressed each time she failed an audition during the break. There had been times when she’d seemed like she was about to lose her way. Then, finally, someone appeared who recognized her talent. She was on cloud nine every day awaiting her moment. Just thinking about how she must’ve felt had me clenching my fists. I gnashed my teeth in frustration. A man came out from a VIP booth, way more luxurious than the one Himeji and I had been at. It had to be him. He wore a fancy suit and an expensive-looking watch. He seemed to be heading for the restroom. He shot me a puzzled glance before passing me in the dimly lit corridor. “Um, excuse me.” I grabbed his shoulder to stop him. Without realizing it, I was putting a lot of force into my grip. “Hmm?” He turned around with an irritated expression. I put my whole weight into my fist and smashed it into his face. I heard a dull crack. It sounded like I’d hit somewhere delicate. “Gwoh…!” Wakatsuki staggered back and fell on his butt. My fist hurt. My knees trembled. Slowly, I calmed my ragged breathing. He acted more surprised than hurt, holding his cheek as he lay on the floor, his eyes wide. “Huh? Wha? What? Uh, who, who are you?” The moment I hit him, my anger cooled. What am I doing? There were plenty of things I wanted to say. But I couldn’t cause any more of a scene in a place Mr. Matsuda frequented. I didn’t answer his question and hurried out of the restaurant. Just like Himeji, I wasn’t stopped at the entrance. “What happened, Ryou?” Himeji asked, worried. “Why do you ask?” “You have a scary look on your face…” “Nothing happened. Let’s go.” Himeji softly undid my fist. I realized she wasn’t going to believe me. As we walked silently toward the station, she asked again, “What happened? Was the restroom too crowded and you’re holding it in or something…?” I didn’t know whether she was saying that as a joke or if she was serious, but it relaxed me somewhat. “No, it has nothing to do with the restroom.” “Then what happened?” I took a deep breath and summarized what I had seen. “…Top Agency’s CEO was there? And he said that?” She frowned. “Yeah, and I…got a little worked up.” Himeji blinked. I was sure she’d say, “How strange” or “You never get angry.” I thought the same. “I guess it’s not that unexpected from you. You do have a stronger sense of justice than you let on…” For some reason, however, she accepted it. She didn’t criticize me one bit for punching him. “We met back up when you tried to save me from a molester, after all. I know you have a strong chivalrous spirit.” “You think? I’ve never punched anyone before, though.” “Well, there’s always a first time.” She wasn’t concerned at all—she was practically praising me for it. “How did it feel?” she asked. “I shouldn’t have done it. My hand hurts.” “That’s about what I expected from you.” We arrived at the station and grabbed a train headed toward home. “If…” At last, Himeji broke the silence that had fallen when we’d boarded the train. “If it had been about me, would you have done the same?” “Huh? …I wonder.” I’d done it all on impulse, so I wasn’t sure how to answer. We got off the train and walked home along the darkened streets. The sun had fully set, and a beautiful blanket of stars shone above us. “If I was Hina and I heard what you did, my heart would start racing, and I wouldn’t be able to contain myself anymore.” “Contain what?” Himeji sighed and stared at me with narrowed eyes. “Only a boor would ask that.” “Sorry. I was just curious because you weren’t clear.” We stood at the crossroads leading to Fushimi’s house. “Should we go see her?” I asked. Himeji shook her head. “Not me. I’m her rival,” she answered honestly. “It’d be presumptuous of me to try to comfort her; after all, I don’t understand how it feels to fail.” Maybe Fushimi felt the same way. “All right. See you later, then. Thanks for today. I had fun.” “I—I should be thanking you… I had fun, too…,” she whispered, looking at me with bashful, upturned eyes. Then she turned around and left. I reached Fushimi’s house about two minutes later, and her grandma answered the door. “Oh my, if it isn’t Takamori.” “Good evening. Is Fushimi…? Is Hina home?” “As it happens, she’s still out. She’s answering my texts, but I don’t know where she went…” She’s not home yet? It’s already so late. Is she out somewhere, moping over what happened? “I see. I’ll go look for her.” “Really? Thank you.” I bowed before leaving. Where are you, Fushimi? Her grandma said she was answering her texts, so she’s not missing. But she didn’t tell her where she was. I couldn’t imagine her simply strolling aimlessly through the city after the interview, and I couldn’t picture her hanging out with someone else, either. Despite everything, she had few friends. She talked to a lot of people at school, but when it came to those she spent her free time with, she only had me, Torigoe, and maybe Himeji. I went around checking all the places I thought she might be and found someone on a bench along the boulevard where the summer festival was held. “…Fushimi?” I called her name. It was her. “Oh, Ryou. What’s up?” “Don’t you ‘What’s up’ me. That’s my line. What’re you doing here?” “Spacing out.” She tapped the seat beside her, so I sat down. “You remember the interview? …I have to apologize to you about something.” “Apologize? To me?” I had plenty of things I needed to apologize to her about, but not the other way around. They must have been pretty harsh with her in the interview. What could she possibly need to apologize for? “I was all hyped up without ever thinking about how you felt. The truth is that it should’ve been you getting attention for the short.” “Oh, that’s it?” I sighed in relief. “Don’t say that like it doesn’t matter. I basically used you as a stepping stone… It wasn’t right.” Fushimi looked down at her feet. “I mean, yeah, it felt weird. That said, if you asked me if I want to be a film director, I don’t think I could give an answer right away. But you’re different.” I wanted to be recognized, sure, but I was able to be happy for her about the call because I understood how much passion, resolve, and effort Fushimi put into her dream. It was me who needed to apologize—for putting her in contact with that bastard. “Today, I finally realized. It wasn’t me that Mr. Wakatsuki wanted—he was just after an in with my mother and her agency.” So he actually said that to her face.