"Whaddya want, pretty boy?"
The bartender held a cigar bud between his teeth, ash trembling from the edge.
My eye twitched as I forced a smile, nudging Suzune with my elbow.
"Information."
The man sighed as he leaned back, the chair creaking beneath him as he crossed his arms.
The air reeked of smoke and cheap perfume, violet light bleeding over his face.
This was the club proper; almost everyone here is taken. And by "taken", it usually meant they'd be violently making out somewhere or getting high.
Well, this is a place for fun after all.
I looked to the side, and there was another private room—this one was right next to ours. Occasionally, there would be moans coming out from there, but everyone else would be too distracted by what they're doing to hear.
The bartender took the cigar from his lips, pointing it lazily at us.
"Stuff like that—"
"—doesn't come for free, right?"
Suzune cut in before he could finish.
He smirked before looking back at me.
"Your girl's pretty smart, kid."
Suzune grinned, her chair scraping the floor as she leaned into my arm.
I whispered.
What is it?
Her gaze sharpened as he looked at me... Somehow, I felt the murderous intent coming from her.
I don't know why, but she seemed to hate the guy.
She lifted her head as she faced him.
"Name your price, we're willing to pay."
He raised a brow.
"You sure? Info gets expensive in these parts—"
His words died when Suzune slid a crisp 10,000 yen bill across the counter, the edge catching the light.
He only stared at it.
Quite the bold move, Suzune.
She smirked, leaning into the counter as the bartender kept staring.
"What's that reaction for?"
His eyes were still glued to the bill until he chuckled.
He started laughing, standing up from the chair as he reached for a bottle. The shelves creaked as he poured two glasses of wine.
"It's on the house".
He slid them across.
"Now ask away."
Looking back on it,
I shouldn't have.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It started pouring when we were walking outside the club.
Splashes came with every step as we turned towards an alley corner.
Thud
I held my head against the wall. Everyone else just passed by as Suzune leaned on the other side, crossing her arms.
Kabukicho's neon bled into the alley's shadows, like it refused to let go of us.
And even after all that, I still remember what the bartender said to me.
Three guys followed her when she walked out.
I stared at the damp concrete below.
"What the hell..."
I felt my stomach churn—I grabbed my mouth immediately.
Almost puked there...
Wet footsteps followed as a faint sigh came from behind. It was Suzune. She leaned on my side of the wall, gazing at me with a side-eye.
She held her shoulder when she spoke.
"At least we kind of know the full story."
I turned around, leaning against the wall with my arm over my face as the droplets kept pattering.
You're terrible at this, too, you know.
Behind that look, I knew that she was shaken as well:
Her arms were crossing a little too tightly.
Her eyes were avoiding the alley.
Her hand was gripping the hem of her coat.
I slouched on the brick behind me before wiping the sweat off my face.
"Let's just get out of here."
I stared up at the sky.
It'll keep playing in my mind if we stay...
The rain began to soften with every passing second, Suzune still leaning into the wall.
I wonder... I thought, staring into the alley's darkness.
Miyu Tachibana.
What did you have to go through?
How defenseless were you?
If anything...
If I were there...
Could I have done something to help?
"Miyato."
I looked back down; Suzune was facing me.
You're trying to keep a straight face, too, huh?
She took a step, the puddle splashing underneath.
Suzune looked down before grabbing my arm, her own arm trembling.
"Let's go..."
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To be honest, I joined this investigation out of curiosity.
When Suzune mentioned the "idol suicide", I had already decided to accept it in the first place.
But there was still that one part of me that convinced myself.
"This is for Mina's sake."
I lay my head on the taxi's window. Kabukicho's neon replaced by headlights and advertisements as we passed by a large building.
"Mina's sake." I scoffed.
Selfish.
This was for me.
The window's blurs came to a stop as the taxi's hum fizzled out, the backlight flicking on as Suzune opened the door.
"We're here."
She paid the driver as she stepped out; the old man tipped his hat off before the taxi's engine came on.
I stretched my arms as we began walking up the stairs.
"Are you sure I can stay here?"
"Yeah... Mom won't be home in two days. It's fine."
She continued.
"We have a guest room in our apartment, you can stay there for the night since you can't go home at this time."
I glanced at her, raising a brow.
"Sure..."
We reached the glass doors of the luxury apartment soon enough.
The air felt cooler compared to the last time I was here. There were still many sleek, modern designs surrounding the lobby, but after what happened...
I just don't have the energy to admire it right now.
Our steps echoed slightly as we reached the receptionist's desk.
Suzune thumbed at me.
"He's a guest."
The receptionist nodded, giving the two of us a look before writing something down.
When we turned around, she instantly turned to her friend.
I think I heard something along the lines of:
"Suzu's busted if Ms. Amamiya finds out~"
I sighed as we took the elevator to Suzune's room.
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Ding
The door opened after Suzune swiped the card; the two of us stepped in as she hung her coat on the stand. I took in the scenery again, the last time I was here, Ms. Amamiya was present to lighten the mood.
I guess Mom was right about needing adults.
The floor-to-ceiling glass walls shimmered with Shinjuku's city lights as I stepped on the carpet, sitting down on a chair in the living area.
I checked my phone as she walked towards the kitchen counter.
1:43 am
It's that late, huh?
Her voice came next.
"The guest room's next to my parents. We can organize our findings later in the morning."
I nodded, taking one more look at the glass walls.
What should I do now...?
I looked back, and it seemed like Suzune was making something in the kitchen.
A few minutes passed, and she dropped the curtains on the glass walls as her footsteps clicked on the tiled floor. The sound of metal clinking against ceramic reached my ears.
Coffee... I thought she was a tea person.
Suzune spoke up as she laid a mug beside the coffee table.
"I didn't know what coffee you liked, so I made my usual."
She walked, sitting on the couch across from me as she crossed her arms.
I stared at her for a moment before taking the mug.
Black coffee, this must be her usual.
Mom's a great cook, so I know a lot about food because of her. She always told me you can figure someone out based on the coffee they like.
I took a sip before laying it down.
"About Minami..."
Her hand stopped at the mug's handle.
"Yes?"
"I want to make sure what Tachibana experienced never happens to her."
Suzune smiled, humming.
"Which is why you helped me, right? To protect your sister?"
She placed a finger on her chin.
"You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. My mom told me I kept pestering her about wanting a baby brother or sister when I was still a child."
Suzune took a sip of her coffee.
"You're pretty lucky to have her."
"Yeah..."
Suzune looked at the clock before walking towards her room.
"We should get some sleep."
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The guestroom was neat and tidy. Minimal dirt, everything is clean and white, with some darker shades of gray added. There was a bed, a shelf, a drawer, and a table.
Nothing else.
And somehow, someway, in the darkness, Mom's voice echoed through my head even after everything that happened.
"If you're looking for inspiration..."
My eyes opened wide as I got up from the bed; the gray blanket pushed down as I held my head.
Why now?
Hand wandering on the drawer, I grabbed my phone before scrolling through the contacts.
"Kenta Murasaki..." I muttered.
I don't know why Mom gave me this guy's number, but he must be famous if she's associated with him.
If Mom did buy into the English project bluff, then this guy has to be from the States, raised there, or...
Is he international?
I opened a browser, searching.
Kenta Murasaki
Active 1998-present
"1998?" I muttered.
He started before Mom was born...
I stared at the screen as I scrolled down to his achievements.
Kenta Murasaki — Internationally acclaimed director, screenwriter, producer. Known for the "Sengen" live-action trilogy.
I scrolled further.
The first film, Sengen: Click, premiered at Cannes and earned Japan its first Palme d'Or nomination in over a decade. Later projects, including The Glass Veil and Solstice Requiem, solidified his reputation as one of the most visionary directors of his generation.
So he really is international.
I closed the browser, going back to my contacts list as my finger hovered over the call button.
"Screw it..."
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Click
The balcony curtains swayed in the night air as a man leaned against the railing, overlooking Tokyo's glow.
The city pulsed below like an endless reel of color. Somewhere, a siren cried and faded.
It was three in the morning. He had stayed behind to review the day's footage with the remaining staff.
In his left hand was a lit cigar; he puffed once before blowing smoke out.
The smoke curled upward, dissolving into the city haze—just another bad habit among many he couldn't quit.
I think it's fine if I let the rookies handle this for now. He thought, running his hand through his long hair—a deep shade of violet.
No one knew if he'd dyed it or if the color was natural—either way, the city lights reflected the same violet hue.
Buzz buzz
His eyes, a gleaming shade of purple, looked down at the glowing screen in his pocket.
He sighed, grabbing his phone.
Who the hell is it this time?
He looked at the caller's name once—only once, but it made his eyes widen.
Well, I'll be damned...
"Good evening." He said, voice coarse like gravel.
What answered was a voice far different from what he remembered.
The brat that he used to scold for sleeping too late had matured, it seems.
"Director."
The man chuckled. "That I am. What is it this time, Yuu?"
"Wow, quite a cold response for your best student, Mr. Murasaki."
He turned, leaning his back against the rail.
"Self-proclaimed best student." He grinned. "You know I don't play favorites—especially with the two of you."
The voice sighed. "Seriously...? Never mind."
She continued.
"I'll get straight to the point." She paused. "You know Miyato, right?"
"The quiet one?"
She sighed.
"Considering how much trouble that 'quite one' almost got himself into, I think labeling him as that would be completely wrong."
He laughed, his arm leaning into the railing. "Listen, kid. I've only seen the boy when he was a lil' peanut—that's, what, fifteen years ago now?"
"I guess."
"What about him?" He took a glance into the studio. "Did ya call me for parental advice or something? 'Cause the only teenagers I've dealt with personally are you and bunny-kid."
"It's actually pretty different.I know that boy is up to something dangerous."
She continued.
"Sorry in advance, but I gave him your number."
The man nodded as she spoke up again.
"Look, I'm a grown woman now, I have my own children, and I'm worried that he's being too reckless with what he's doing."
She took a breath.
"If he ever calls, let me know—and make sure to hear him out."
He placed a finger on his chin, pushing away from the railing before bursting into laughter, slapping his thigh while making sure to close the curtains as he looked up into the moonlight.
"You really are something, Yuki." The man said, breathless. "But sure, I'll look out for the boy."
He could almost see her smile from the other side of the line.
"Thanks, Ke—"
Crash!
A shattering clatter tore through the studio.
"The hell?"
Kenta opened the door as a small squeal could be heard from the staff.
The call was still ongoing, but he didn't bother to end it as he walked towards the sight of a few glass cups shattered across the floor.
"What the hell happened here, rooks?"
The rookies traded nervous looks until someone finally spoke.
"W-well, Mr. Director—"
"WAIT!"
A woman arrived at the scene, panting. "Akashi Hinode is here!"
Kenta's eye visibly twitched as he raised his phone.
"Sorry, kid, looks like bunny-brat's made a mess of my studio."
"No need, good luck dealing with him, Kenta."
The call ended with a tap, and Kenta sighed, his hands in his pockets.
The cleaning staff soon arrived, sweeping the glass off while Kenta made his way through the studio's halls.
A few more of his staff passed by him—some bowing, some nearly tripping themselves as they murmured to each other.
Half of them were likely talking about the white-haired bastard he knew all too well.
Kenta shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets, walking through the dimly lit halls as a sharp echo of laughter bounced down the corridor—too familiar to mistake.
He spotted a man ahead—taller than the rest, though not by Kenta's standards.
White hair flashed under the studio lights as if the corridor itself brightened to announce his arrival.
"Gramps!"
"Shut up, ya brat!" Kenta shouted, pinching the bridge of his nose as he got closer to Akashi.
"Ouch! My feelings~"
Kenta sighed through his nose.
For a grown man, this kid was still a handful.
White hair—slight waves, styled in a way that suggested he woke up from a nap a while ago.
In short terms, very messy.
Eyes, a bright shade of red, bordering the lines between "flirtatious" and "goofing around".
Mostly it's goofing around.
You would expect someone who supposedly is "Yuki Shizuka's Rival" to be a little different from her.
But not the complete opposite.
Akashi dramatically circled around Kenta before leaning his arm on the old man's shoulder.
"Get off." Kenta looked down. "Just tell me why the hell you're here, Hinode."
Akashi smiled again.
"It's nothing serious, really." He shrugged. "Figured I was in the area and decided to visit my old man!"
Kenta sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again.
"You're really bad at lying sometimes, bunny-kid."