In bed, as I was drifting off, I heard Ushio muttering to himself. “Next, I wanna make a sequel for those astronauts…”
From our show’s opening?
“Yeah.”
I was so drowsy that I couldn’t tell if I was actually speaking out loud or not, but since he replied, I guess I must have. Or maybe this was a dream. Wait, but if this was work, wouldn’t he need to consult with our intellectual property lawyers to reuse those characters…? It seemed complicated.
About what?
“They’ll go on a journey and find a new planet to live on.”
What kind?
“Haven’t decided yet. What kind of planet would you like?”
…Roast beef… Sushi…
“Okay, I’ll make a note of it.”
Seriously?
That time, I don’t think I really said anything. I was sliding down, down, down—from reality into dreamland, or from a shallow sleep into something deeper.
✦ ✦ ✦
“…Okay, I’ll be there shortly. I should get there in the evening… No, thanks.”
When I woke, once again, the first thing I heard was Ushio’s voice. The feel of an unfamiliar pillow stirred me awake, and I rolled over. Then I remembered—Oh, right, we spent the night at a hotel.
“You awake?” he asked. He must have heard the bedsheets rustling.
“Mmh…”
“Breakfast is ready when you are.”
Being easily bought, I snapped myself awake and sat up in bed. Ushio was already dressed and packed up.
“You can stay here until 2 p.m. at the latest. Just be sure to drop your keycard off in the little box in the underground parking lot. I’ll pay for the room.”
Curiously, I peered at the room service cart, sitting there decked out in a white tablecloth. When I lifted the shiny silver cloche lid, I found an omelet with strips of bacon, a basket of bread, a cup of yogurt, and some fruit—a classic American-style breakfast.
But there was only one portion.
“…What about you?” I asked.
“Urgent work stuff came up. I gotta get going.”
Was that who he was talking to over the phone? Did someone enlist his help to film or edit a video?
“Gotta hole up and work overtime for a while.”
“At your house?”
“No, I won’t be home,” he said.
“How long will you be gone?”
“Depends on how long they need me. I’ll be in touch. See you later.”
The hell? One minute he was free as a bird, and the next, he was all business. Then again, at least he wasn’t burned-out anymore. I turned on the TV, poured myself some fresh coffee from the pot, and sat down to eat.
Did that conversation about the astronauts actually happen in real life? I forgot to ask. Oh well—it wasn’t important. It could wait until after he got back. As I spread some fluffy whipped butter onto my toast, I watched it melt in mere seconds.