After the broadcast, the assignment desk editor came into the studio and called out to Shitara. “Hey, can we borrow Kunieda tomorrow? There’s an interview we wanna cover. Starts at 7 p.m.”
“Mmm, sorry,” Shitara replied, pressing his palms together with a grin. “I kinda got in trouble for overworking him lately, so suffice it to say that his services are no longer available! Besides, the studio looks a little empty without him.”
“The hell, man? I thought you wanted me to assign him all over the place!”
“Yeah, but…eh. It’s been long enough.”
“What?! God, you do this every time and it drives me crazy!”
“I’m really sorry, I swear!”
I didn’t see the need to speak up, so I left the studio. Just as I hadn’t felt my condition worsen, neither did I feel any improvement, but whatever. Then I heard footsteps rushing after me.
“Seems like you’ve been through hell lately, huh?”
“Yes, but I hear you helped. Thank you so much,” I answered with a flawless smile.
At this, Tatsuki’s voice dropped. “Aww, what happened to ‘Oops, All Kunieda-san’? I wanted to see it.”
“I’m not your fucking show pony, kid,” I growled under my breath, then started walking faster.
“Wait! We need to talk!”
Alas, he gave chase. With no other choice, I led him to the elevator lobby on the opposite side of the building.
“Okay, so I heard from a mutual friend that Kizaki-san wants to meet up with you.”
“What?”
“Are you up for it?”
“Well, I mean… What does he want?”
“Beats me. But since you’ve got the opportunity, I say you make up for last time! Make him chug his drink while you shout B-P-O! B-P-O!”
“I’m starting to think you’re a way bigger asshole than I am.”
Frankly, I was over Kizaki, and not because of his show’s scandal—I hadn’t even given him a moment of thought the entire time I was in Nagano. That being said, I was a little curious about what he wanted to say to me. So I told Tatsuki I’d go.
On Friday, after my broadcast, I went to the specified private room at the specified bar. Tatsuki tagged along as our mediator of sorts. If anything went awry, my plan was to dump it all on him and bail.
“Hey, welcome,” said Kizaki, rising from the sofa to bow to us. Last time we met up, he didn’t drink a drop of alcohol, but this time there was a whiskey bottle on the table. “Sorry I started without you.” Then, as we were waiting for our drinks (ginger ale for me, beer for Tatsuki), he asked, “How are you doing? I heard you fell and hit your head while you were in Nagano.”
Ugh, don’t bring that shit back up! Not exactly my finest moment! “Yes, I’m much better now, thank you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Somehow, I got the sense that he was being genuine. Part of me was tempted to read more deeply into it, but in all likelihood, he wasn’t that kind of guy.
“More importantly, how are you doing, man? I hear it’s been rough for you!” Tatsuki exclaimed, gleefully cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
“It has,” Kizaki conceded. “There’s been talk of ending the show… It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way life goes sometimes.”
“But, like, it sucks that you have to pay the price for some other cohost’s faux pas!”
“No, I screwed up, too.” He shook his head, his expression hard. “I knew it was a problem the moment it happened, and I thought about saying something, but we were about to wrap up and move to the next segment. That was my excuse, anyway. In reality, there was time to apologize, but since neither the host nor the producer said anything, I just assumed I was being overly sensitive. Since I wasn’t an anchor, I didn’t want to…presume above my station.”
His eyes were red—from the alcohol or the self-loathing, I couldn’t be sure. He clearly had the quick thinking needed to avert the situation, so I could understand the depth of his regrets.
“Meh, you don’t gotta take it so hard. It wasn’t your fault. Right, Kunieda-san?”
“Right.”
It wasn’t clear if we were actually cheering him up. He was already pouring liquor from a fresh bottle into a glass of ice. “I was at the scene of that fire, too, you know.”
“Huh?”
“I went just to watch, but when I got there, I saw you directing a remote broadcast. You were so focused, like nothing else mattered… It was incredible. Not just because you were the director, but because you worked so hard to get someone else to report it. Most TV personalities expect others to roll out the red carpet for them, but not you. I swear, no other anchor can do what you do. And pretty soon after, I stopped caring about the fire at all. You had me captivated. In that moment, I knew I’d never hold a candle to you…and you know what? I’m not even mad about it. In fact, I feel a lot better now that I don’t need to wonder why I wasn’t hired. At last, it all makes sense.”
“You flatter me, but really, I was scrambling all over the place—”
“I…!” He interrupted me in the middle of my modest demurral; was he drunk already? “I applied to Asabi because I wanted to work with Sou-chan, damn it!”
“Sou-chan?” Tatsuki and I asked in unison. Kizaki clapped a hand over his mouth and burned even redder.
“Seriously, who the heck is Sou-chan?” Tatsuki pressed.
“He’s, uh…the host of your show…”
“Wait—Asou-san?”
“We were neighbors back when I was a kid, and that’s what I used to call him. Look, uh, please don’t tell him I told you that, okay? He very strictly told me not to tell anyone that he and I know each other.”
“No can do,” Tatsuki shot back with a grin. “Monday morning, I’m totally calling him Sou-chan.”
God, he might actually go through with it, too.
“Please don’t! He’ll be so pissed at me!”
“Oh, relax. So, what’s the story with Sou-chan?”
“Well, I’ve always looked up to him. Always wanted to be just like him. And when I told him I was gonna apply to Asabi, he was like ‘Knock yourself out. I won’t stop you, but I won’t help you either.’ I was fine with that, though, since I wanted to get the job through my own merits. But…I didn’t…and later on, when I found out he recommended Kunieda-san over me, I was shattered. It’d be one thing if we both got the job, but it was me or him! I just felt so betrayed, like ‘What happened to not stopping me?’ So…I kinda blamed it on you, Kunieda-san. I regret it, and I’m sorry.”
Meanwhile, Tatsuki was very clearly enjoying himself. “You should be! If anyone deserves the blame here, it’s Sou-chan!”
“Okay, but seriously, please don’t call him that to his face.”
“Well, I feel like Sou-chan was a bit of a jerk in that situation. Does he secretly hate you or something?”
“Wh—no, that can’t be… That can’t be… That…cannot possibly be the case…” Triggered by the word hate, Kizaki started stirring up his glass with a cocktail muddler.
“Minagawa-kun, have you considered perhaps keeping some of those thoughts to yourself for a change?”
“Well, I mean, if you’ve got two applicants and you already know one of ’em has talent for sure, wouldn’t you generally pick him over the mystery guy?”
“He made the right choice, though,” said Kizaki, after downing his drink. “To this day, I’m sure he’s glad he chose Kunieda-san.”
“Damn right.”
“Huh…?”
“Sou-chan, my ass. You were just jealous this whole frickin’ time? Gimme a break. What a trash-tier motivation. For your information, that self-important old geezer’s put me through hell.”
“Wha—huh?” He looked all around for the source of the mysterious voice while I sat there with a perfect smile on my face.
“Like I give a shit. You’d never reach my level in 30,000 years. You’re Paleolithic and you know it. Now lick my shoes, worm—lick them until you wear a hole in the sole, then buy me a new pair. From now on, live a humble life within your lowly means and go to your grave, bragging that I was generous enough to beat you.”
I honestly didn’t hold much ill will toward him anymore, but I needed to repay him for last time. With interest.
“Senpai, I think his pupils are dilating.”
“Oh, yeah, and don’t breathe another word of your sob story in my presence or I’ll fucking kill you. Period.” Whew. Much better. I downed my ginger ale and placed a consolatory hand on the empty shell that was Kizaki’s back. Then I switched to my “nice” voice and said, “Kizaki-san, are you feeling all right? Perhaps you drank too much.”
“Wh… Huh? Wha…?”
“Hmm, it seems you’ve fallen into a stupor of sorts. Well, you must be exhausted. Why don’t you head out and get some well-deserved rest? Minagawa-kun, go have the bar call a cab for him.”
“Okie-doke! What about you, Kunieda-san?”
“I think I’ll wander for a bit before I go home.”
It was hot and muggy outside. Weekend nights were always awash with people and neon and normally I’d hail a taxi ASAP, but tonight, I was in the mood for something a little different. As I made my way through the crowd, however, I started to question if what I’d done was perhaps too risky. What if he didn’t chalk it up to an alcohol-fueled hallucination?
Meh, whatever. The weight that lifted from my shoulders was totally worth it. Besides, if he started getting suspicious, I could easily bluff my way out of it. I’d done it a hundred times before, and I wasn’t stopping anytime soon. I wasn’t afraid of anything anymore. I was prepared to live my life this way.
In a little corner of the world, at the very center, there was a place where I’d stashed my everything. From there, I could go anywhere and do anything…and when I was done, I’d always go back.
My legs carried me to Ushio so quickly, I nearly burst into a sprint.