Tatsuki was the first to recognize him. “Oh, it’s Kizaki Ryou!”
“In the flesh?”
“I sure hope so!”
Kizaki’s soft smile was no different from the one he usually gave the camera. When his eyes met mine, his expression turned to guilt. “Sorry, I was sitting two tables away when I heard ‘Newsment,’ and…yeah. You guys are with Asabi TV, right? I notice there’s a legend among you. Mind if we join?”
“Sure, no problem! How many are you with? Party of six? Then let’s ask ’em to push another table over—Excuse me!” After flagging down an employee, Tatsuki looked back at us and asked, “You don’t mind, right?”
Little late for that one, dumbass. Ugh, this sucks. “Of course not,” I replied amiably, then gestured to Kizaki. “Join us.”
“Thanks. I’ll go call the others.”
After our newly merged group toasted their drinks, Tatsuki got right down to brass tacks. “Is it true you guys have a faction feud?”
“Seriously? Is that the kind of question you ask someone you just met? You Asabi anchors are something else.”
“C’mon, it’s a special occasion! Right?”
“I wouldn’t call it that…”
Kizaki sat directly beside me, happily sipping his oolong tea. Surreptitiously, I snuck a glance at his face in profile—an angle the cameras didn’t often utilize—and determined that, categorically speaking, he and I were the same. Not that we were especially similar, but if we were to be broadly classified, we’d end up in the same group. So it made sense that, when it came down to it, the hiring manager had to drop one of us. There was no benefit to hiring two anchors with the same vibe.
Then the face turned in my direction. “So, what brings you all here today?”
“No particular reason; our spring renewal season is finally coming to an end, so we thought we’d have a little get-together for employees of the same age group. You?”
“Erm…this is kind of embarrassing, but…we were having a private staff celebration for achieving 15 percent.”
“Oh, I see. Why is that embarrassing?”
“Well, we still haven’t caught up to The News… I was worried you’d think we’re getting cocky.”
Caught up? Don’t get full of yourself. Your show’s only been on the air for a month! “What do you mean?” I blinked, eyes wide. “We were just saying how it seems like your show is going places—oh, right, I suppose you overheard that.”
“Yeah, sorry. But it really means a lot! I’ve learned so much from The News.”
“Well, just keep up the good work.” Ugh, I hate humoring this douche. I wanna go home! Damn you, Minagawa!
That being said, if Tatsuki hadn’t taken the initiative, someone else would have. While anchors were full-time employees, “TV personalities” were contracted through external agencies, and we were expected to treat them like station personnel.
“Want to order something?” I offered Kizaki the menu…but he simply stared at me. “Um…?”
“Oh, sorry. I was just admiring your perfect teeth.”
What? I could tell this was headed in a weird direction, and it threatened to impact the very smile he was complimenting. You’re not hitting on me, are you? No offense, but I don’t need any more men in my life.
“You think so? Why, thank you. Though I will say, yours are—”
Barf. This is so cringe. What is this, a girls’ night where we all praise each other’s hair and makeup? But Kizaki merely smiled and said, “Oh, these are implants.”
“Huh?”
He parted his lips and tapped a fingernail lightly on his front teeth. Upon further inspection, they did seem a little too perfect to be natural.
“Originally I had my teeth straightened, but the sizing was kind of uneven, so I went ahead and got implants for my front teeth, top and bottom.”
“That sounds…”
For once, I had opened my big mouth without preparing a comment in advance. If I told him “That sounds rough,” it would sound massively condescending, but what else could I say?
He didn’t seem bothered, however. “There’s a lot of competition to be a news anchor,” he continued. “In my case, I had work done on my tongue, too, though that might be a bit uncommon.”
“Your tongue…?”
“My articulation was poor, so I had them surgically remove my lingual frenulum. It didn’t dramatically change anything, but psychologically, it helped my confidence a lot.”
“So did you get plastic surgery on your face to make yourself hot too?” Tatsuki cut in, and frankly, he won a bit of respect from me for having the balls to ask.
“If I had, I’d look a lot hotter than this, trust me,” Kizaki answered with a sardonic grin.
“Oh, please! So anyways, I hear you were almost my senpai, huh?”
My heart nearly stopped. Hey dumbass, don’t bring that up! It’s gonna get weird!
“Yes, but what can I say? It didn’t work out. And from his first broadcast, Kunieda-san was hailed as an exceptional talent.”
Did he wish that praise had been directed at him instead? I was kind of scared to imagine it. I didn’t mind a little envy within reason, but when it came to hardcore jealousy, I preferred to avoid it.
“But I mean, you probably coulda made it in the year after, right?” Tatsuki pressed.
“Hard to say,” he muttered, smiling evasively. “It really took the wind out of my sails… See, I’ve wanted to be a news anchor since I was a kid, and I especially liked Asabi TV. Each station has a certain preferred type of anchor, right? Well, Asabi was my favorite. I only started modeling in high school because I thought it’d help me get hired there.”
Kizaki wasn’t even speaking that loudly, and yet his voice had a way of carrying over the din of the busy izakaya. Dude, stop. Don’t use your announcer voice to tell me your stupid sob story.
“But right when I thought I was hired, they called and said I didn’t make it. I was in shock… I just couldn’t find the motivation to try again the next year. I was scared they’d pass on me again.” He paused, then continued brightly, “But I do enjoy my current job. I love working in the news industry. And besides, you really are talented, Kunieda-san. It’s no wonder the CEO chose you. Some people are just naturally gifted.”
“No, no, don’t be silly,” I replied.