Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 2 - Part 4

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The next day, Al was busy from the start. Akira had tied his medical certificate to Al’s back and sent him off to deliver it to the center. Since he couldn’t open doors or enter by himself, Al left home a little earlier and flew onto Muroi’s shoulder as soon as he arrived at work.

“Whoa, what the—? Al?” Muroi exclaimed. He noticed the medical certificate attached to Al, took it off, and read it with a surprised look on his face. “Takatsuka-san got injured?” he asked. Al nodded in response.

“Three days off for a bruised tailbone? Did he fall down some stairs or something? And he made you deliver this?” Al let out a chirp, and Muroi chuckled for some reason.

After completing his mission, Al hurried back to the apartment and slipped in through a slightly open window. Akira was lying in bed, reading a foreign magazine. Although he could sit up, lying down was more comfortable for him.

“Squeak, Squeak,” Al called out, announcing that he had delivered the certificate, as he flopped down onto the bed. “Get away from me!” Akira yelled. Even though it wasn’t Al’s fault that he had fallen on top of Akira, he still felt responsible and wanted to help in some way. But every attempt was met with rejection, like “I don’t need your help.” The only task Akira had entrusted to him was delivering the medical certificate.

“When you’re in my sight, it just makes me more irritated,” Akira grumbled. Dejected, Al moved to the sofa, where he spent the rest of the day feeling lonely.

Around 6:00 p.m., the doorbell rang. Akira, unable to move, ignored it. Al, still in bat form, couldn’t answer the door either, so he had no choice but to stay quiet. But the doorbell rang three more times. Akira clicked his tongue in irritation and, hunched over, shuffled to the door. “Yeah…?” he answered in a grumpy voice.

“Sorry, it’s Muroi. I heard you were injured. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing serious.”

“I’m here on behalf of everyone to bring you a get-well gift. Can I come in?”

“There’s no need. It was my own carelessness.”

“I can’t just take the gift back with me. If you don’t want me in your room, I’ll leave it at the door.”

Akira hesitated, scowling, then hobbled closer to the door and unlocked it. Muroi was standing there with a fruit basket in his hands, looking slightly nervous.

“Are you alright?” Muroi asked.

“I’m not alright, that’s why I’m resting,” Akira replied, his tone far too curt for someone who had come to visit him. Muroi looked troubled.

“Don’t worry about work. Koyanagi-san is covering for you, and he’s eager to repay you for all the times you’ve helped us.”

“You’re exaggerating…”

“I’m also learning from Tsuno-san and Koyanagi-san, so everything is under control. Just take it easy and get better.”

Muroi then peeked into the room. “Is Kane-san out?”

Al, who had been quietly perched on the sofa, flinched. Akira hesitated before lying, “He’s out shopping.”

“I see. This basket is pretty heavy, though…”

“I can handle that much.”

“But really…”

As soon as Akira took the fruit basket from Muroi, he let out a strange sound, “Ugh!” He bent over even more, his body freezing in place. The basket fell to the floor with a thud.

“Are you okay?” Muroi asked, reaching out to touch Akira’s shoulder, but Akira snapped, “Don’t touch me!”

“If I stay still for a bit, the pain will pass,” Akira said. Al, unable to bear seeing Akira in such a pitiful state, approached him. He wanted to help, but in his bat form, he couldn’t even offer a shoulder to lean on. Instead, he perched on Akira’s shoulder and gently rubbed his nose against his neck in a comforting gesture, only to be shouted at, “You’re annoying!” Startled, Al moved to the kitchen shelf. Muroi, seeing this, looked at Al with pity, then picked up the fallen fruit basket and placed it in the hallway corner.

“I’m sorry for dropping the gift you brought,” Akira apologized.

“It’s fine, but… are you really okay?” Muroi asked.

“I’m starting to feel like I might be able to walk again,” Akira said, shuffling slowly toward the bed. His movements were so slow that he could have been overtaken by an elderly person.

Muroi acted quickly, kicking off his shoes and offering his hand to the hunched-over Akira. “You can use my hand for support.”

At first, Akira ignored him, but after nearly stumbling, he grudgingly accepted Muroi’s help. In the end, Muroi escorted him to the bed, where Akira lay down. Muroi then sat on the edge of the bed.

“Tailbone bruises can take a while to heal, it seems,” Muroi remarked.

“How do you know that?” Akira frowned.

“I’m the one who received the medical certificate from Al, so… sorry, I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of a ‘courier bat.’ But Al is really smart, isn’t he?”

Instead of agreeing, Akira remained silent. He often called Al “idiot” or “fool,” so maybe he wasn’t ready to acknowledge Al’s intelligence.

Muroi looked around the room with curiosity. “Your place is really tidy. I didn’t expect it to be a one-room apartment, though. I heard you two live together.”

“The apartment is spacious, so it’s not a problem for two people,” Akira replied.

“But there’s only one bed, right? Where does Kane-san sleep?”

“On that sofa,” Akira said, and Muroi stared at the sofa, murmuring, “I see…”

“And he’s not here all the time. He plans to leave once he’s saved enough money. He was supposed to stay for only two or three weeks, but it’s been over six months due to financial issues.”

“Aren’t you two a couple?” Muroi asked, causing Akira to visibly scowl.

“I’ve told you before, we’re not!” Akira snapped.

“But you were so angry when you found out Kane-san was modeling for a magazine. Isn’t that because you’re in a relationship?”

“How many times do I have to say it? I’m not interested in dating anyone. And besides…”

“Besides, you’re not attracted to anyone, so you don’t want to date anyone,” Muroi continued, picking up where Akira left off.

“If you’re not interested in anyone, doesn’t that mean anyone has a chance with you, regardless of gender?” Muroi’s fingers brushed against Akira’s hair, and Al, watching from the shelf, felt a surge of anxiety at the visible emotions.

“Don’t touch me,” Akira growled, and Muroi slowly withdrew his hand.

"If you had a lover, I might have given up, but knowing that no one holds that position, I feel like I have a chance," Muroi said.

"I told you to give up," Akira replied.

"I'm one of four siblings—I have an older sister, an older brother, and a younger brother. So, even if I don't get married, it's not a big deal. Not that I could marry a woman anyway, since I'm gay."

"I didn't ask about your family situation."

"I wanted to tell you. Or rather, I wanted you to know, so that if you ever started liking me, you'd feel free to pursue it."

As Al listened to their conversation from the back of the sofa, he grew increasingly uneasy. He knew Muroi was serious about Akira, but today he seemed especially assertive, and the physical closeness between them was making Al anxious. He feared that if Muroi kept pushing, Akira might give in.

"Do you have any siblings, Takatsuka-san?" Muroi asked.

"That’s none of your business," Akira replied curtly.

"It doesn’t concern me, but I’d still like to know. Though, even if you were an only child, I wouldn’t give up."

There was a brief silence.

"Or is it something you’re keeping secret?" Muroi pressed further.

That seemed to be the trigger, as Akira began to speak calmly but without emotion.

"I don’t have any siblings. My parents divorced when I was three, and I was taken in by my father. He died of illness when I was five, and I was sent to live with my aunt. At twelve, I entered an orphanage, and my mother died when I was fifteen. After graduating high school, I moved to the U.S. with the help of an acquaintance and became a licensed embalmer."

Muroi looked startled. He hadn’t asked for that much information. Akira had divulged everything about his family… maybe because he was angry.

"That’s the personal history you wanted to know. If you’re satisfied, then leave."

"I’m sorry for saying something that upset you when you’re not feeling well," Muroi apologized, trembling slightly as he left.

About fifteen minutes later, Al transformed from bat to human form, got dressed, and prepared to go out. Even though Akira was resting, Al still had his part-time job to attend to.

"Dinner, I buy? Then I go to work?," Al said, addressing Akira’s back, which had been turned toward him since Muroi left.

"I’m not hungry right now. Buy a bento and bring it back with you when you return," Akira replied, his tone begrudging.

That meant it would be past 9 p.m. Al grabbed a banana from the fruit basket. "Banana here. If hungry, eat."

"…Okay," Akira replied, surprisingly compliant. Al kissed the back of Akira’s ear, where his curly hair fell.

"What are you doing?" Akira glared at Al from the corner of his eye.

"A kiss for 'I’m going."

"This is Japan. Don’t do weird stuff like that."

"I leave my love behind. You, lonely, no."

"I never said I was lonely!" Akira snapped.

Al borrowed Akira’s old bicycle and headed to the center. Although Akira seemed like someone who had been alone all his life, that wasn’t true. He did have parents, even though they both passed away when he was in his teens.

Al felt sorry for Akira, who hadn’t received many kisses from his parents. Maybe Akira’s insistence that he was fine alone and didn’t need anyone stemmed from not experiencing enough love and not knowing the joy of being loved.

If that was the case, then Al would give him that love! Even if Akira didn’t appreciate his cooking or other efforts, Al was confident in his ability to show affection. He could love Akira like a mother and father, showering him with affectionate kisses. Maybe if Akira received enough love, he would become kinder more often, and maybe he would stop calling Al "idiot" and "fool" so much.

After about thirty minutes, Al arrived at the center’s parking lot. The reception was staffed 24/7, so there was always someone there, but since most of the employees had gone home, the parking lot was nearly empty.

As Al approached the back entrance, he saw someone standing by the door—Muroi. He was staring at Al.

"You need me?" Al asked, initiating the conversation.

"Well… I went to visit Takatsuka-san earlier," Muroi explained. Since he didn’t know that the bat at the apartment was Al, and he believed the lie that Al was out shopping, Muroi thought he had upset Akira with his remarks.

"Was Takatsuka-san angry when you got back?"

Al hesitated, unsure of how to respond to Muroi’s anxious expression. "A little mad."

Muroi sighed, looking down.

"But, it okay. Akira no worry," Al added, trying to reassure him.

"But he was angry, right?"

"Akira... what word... stubborn? No, forget quickly," Al stammered, trying to soften the blow. Muroi’s desperate expression lightened slightly, though the relief was short-lived, and his face soon turned somber again.

"Takatsuka-san is off work for another two days, right? I want to apologize, but I don’t want to make him more uncomfortable by going back to the apartment. Could you please tell him that I’m sorry for overstepping?"

It seemed Muroi had been waiting just to say that. Al agreed, and Muroi looked a bit more relieved.

"I plan to apologize again when he returns to work. Also, I know I keep asking, but are you sure you’re not Takatsuka-san’s boyfriend?"

"Not boyfriend," Al answered, but for some reason, saying it made his chest ache. Seeing Muroi’s relieved expression made it sting even more. As Muroi turned to leave, he hesitated and looked back.

"Sorry for troubling you with this. But I really am sorry… please pass that along."

When Al returned to the apartment after work, the banana he had left by Akira’s pillow was just a peel. Al kissed Akira’s ear as he slept, and Akira’s eyes slowly opened.

Even though he had been angry when Al kissed him before leaving, now he seemed unfazed as he asked, "Did you get the food?"

"I got bento."

Akira slowly got up and started eating. Al kept thinking that he needed to relay Muroi’s message but couldn’t find the right moment.

"Muroi... say sorry to Akira," Al finally said.

Akira looked up from his bento. "He wait at center. Muroi apologize. Regret. Ask me to tell Akira."

"What’s that idiot doing? If he has time to waste on that, he should go home and study," Akira grumbled.

"It’s not a waste!" Al blurted out.

"Not waste," Al suddenly shouted. "Sincere. Don’t say bad."

Akira looked at him in surprise.

"In his case, it’s just forced affection."

"Akira... no want love?"

"When you choose clothes, don’t you pick ones you like, ones that are comfortable? Isn’t it the same with love? Once you’ve worn clothes, you generally can’t return them. That’s why I won’t accept someone I don’t like. I won’t take responsibility for something I can’t commit to," Akira explained, then added, "And I’ve never met anyone I wanted to take that responsibility for."

"What about me?" Al asked impulsively. "What am I?"

Akira, who had completely shut down Muroi earlier, fell silent for the first time.

"What Akira think of me?"

"…You’re just a freeloader who ended up living here by chance."

"I don’t love?" Al’s emotions swelled as he spoke, and tears began to stream down his face. Even as a vampire, even after dying, he could still cry. His emotions overflowed with the tears.

"I love Akira. Akira no love me?"

Akira looked troubled. He avoided Al’s gaze, which was fixed on him with unwavering sincerity.

"Always alone... lonely... no one to talk... lonely. Living with Akira makes me happy."

Akira scratched his head and clicked his tongue several times in frustration.

"Your feelings as a foreigner are different from mine as a Japanese person. So, about love and all that…"

"I foreigner? I don’t understand. I love you. Tell me, you love me!" Tears continued to pour down Al’s face. Akira slammed the table in exasperation.

"You’re like a troublesome friend I can’t get rid of, no matter how much I might want to. Maybe in your country, that counts as ‘love’ or ‘being in love,’ but not here."

"Want love! Tell me you love me!" Al pleaded.

Akira groaned lowly before finally muttering, "F-Fine, I love you," in a tone that sounded more like he was spitting out the words.

"There, you’re satisfied, right? Stop crying already."

"You say love, but not feel," Al said, his voice still shaky.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Want real love, from heart. No fake love."

"I’m done with this! You’re such an idiot!" Akira struggled to stand up from the chair and made his way back to the bed. After finishing the cleanup, Al kissed Akira goodnight on the cheek, his tear falling and dampening Akira’s face. At that moment, Akira, who had been pretending to sleep, opened his eyes.

"…How long are you going to keep crying like that?"

"Akira’s fault."

"I told you I love you, didn’t I? …Even if it’s just as a troublesome friend."

This time, Akira’s words struck Al’s heart. It wasn’t just a careless remark; Al could tell it was genuine. He nodded, feeling a surge of happiness that made him not want to leave Akira’s side.

"Can I stay... here for a little?" Al asked.

Akira didn’t respond, but since he didn’t say no, Al took it as permission. He crouched by the bed, resting his head close to Akira’s. The familiar scent of Akira brought a warm sense of comfort to Al’s heart. Although he had only planned to stay for a little while, he soon drifted off to sleep.

Later that night, Al woke up feeling someone stroking his head. At first, he thought it was a dream, but it wasn’t. He kept pretending to be asleep, thinking that if Akira knew he was awake, his shy nature would make him pull his hand away.

Akira’s tailbone healed steadily, and after three days, the pain had subsided enough that, though still a bit hunched, he could walk normally again. Upon returning to work, Akira apologized to everyone for his absence due to his carelessness. Then he turned to Tsuno with a serious expression and asked, "Why did you send me to proctology that time?"

Tsuno stubbornly stuck to his claim, "I was just mistaken," refusing to explain further.

When Akira and Muroi were alone in the break room, Muroi apologized for his thoughtless remarks during the visit. However, Akira brushed it off with a casual "Don’t worry about it." Muroi, however, looked even more crestfallen than before, but Akira didn’t seem to notice.

At the end of June, after days of unrelenting rain, Akira attended a funeral for a body he had embalmed the previous day. He returned around noon, changed out of his mourning clothes and into his surgical gown, and quietly ate a bento.

"Takatsuka-san, what does Al eat?" Muroi asked. Al, who had been leaning against the back of the sofa, looked up.

"He doesn’t eat anything while he’s here, right? Does he eat fruits or insects?" Muroi continued.

Since admitting that blood was Al’s main diet was out of the question, Akira gave a vague response, "Something like that."

"Can I feed Al sometime? Maybe give him an apple or something?" Muroi offered.

"I’d rather you didn’t. This guy is greedy and would eat whatever you give him, getting fatter and fatter," Akira replied.

Al was offended. He wasn’t that greedy, and even though it wasn’t true, he didn’t like being painted in such a light.

"Really? Even bats can get fat?" Koyanagi asked, intrigued by the conversation.

"Al spends most of his days in the break room here and then goes back to Takatsuka-san’s place. Compared to a normal bat, he might not be getting enough exercise," Tsuno suggested.

Even Tsuno joined in. Koyanagi rubbed his chin thoughtfully, muttering, "Now that you mention it, Al does look a bit chubby."

Al chirped in protest, shaking his head vigorously. Since becoming a vampire, his weight hadn’t changed—this was a complete misunderstanding.

"It seems like he’s saying that’s not true. Haha, Al’s pretty funny," Muroi said, patting Al’s head in an attempt to soothe him, but Al felt a slight sense of humiliation.

Just then, the internal phone rang. Tsuno quickly stood up and answered it. It was too early for the bodies scheduled for the afternoon, so it might have been an emergency.

"Takatsuka-san," Tsuno said, covering the receiver and turning to Akira. "It’s Matsumura-san."

"Is it an emergency?" Akira asked.

"It doesn’t seem like it, but…" Tsuno trailed off uncertainly. Akira took the phone, exchanged a few words, and then his expression darkened.

"I don’t know anyone by that name," Akira said sharply.

His voice had an unusually harsh edge to it.

"Even if he remembers me, I don’t remember him," he added.

Was it some kind of trouble? Al pricked up his ears, listening in. After a pause, presumably while Matsumura stepped away, Akira muttered under his breath, "This is ridiculous."

"Is it something to do with a case?" Koyanagi asked, concerned.

"It’s not work-related. Apparently, a friend from my student days has shown up at reception and wants to talk. No appointment, just showing up out of the blue. What an inconsiderate jerk," Akira grumbled.

"If they’ve come all the way to your workplace, it must be something urgent. Maybe you should hear them out," Koyanagi suggested sympathetically.

“If one of Takatsuka-san’s bodies arrives, Muroi-kun and I will take care of the sterilization, disinfection, and massage beforehand,” Tsuno offered, backing up the suggestion. But even then, Akira remained adamant and refused to say he would meet with the visitor. After Akira hung up the phone, Matsumura-san soon arrived at the break room, pleading, “The person even went so far as to get on their knees and beg… Is it really impossible to meet them, Takatsuka-san?”

“You see, it really must be urgent,” Koyanagi chimed in. Akira looked truly, truly reluctant, but finally sighed and said, “I’m sorry, but I’ll go talk to them for fifteen minutes.”

The only friend of Akira’s that Al knew was Nukariya. Unable to resist the desire to meet another one of Akira’s friends, Al quickly flew up onto Akira’s shoulder and clung tightly.

“Stay here,” Akira said irritably, but Al ignored him. Akira tried to pull him off, but Al dug his claws into the fabric, making it hard to detach him. After some persistent clinging and Tsuno’s comment, “Maybe he’s just feeling lonely,” Akira reluctantly gave up and left the break room with Al still perched on his shoulder.

“Stay quiet,” Akira whispered, and Al, intending to agree, let out a soft “Squeak.” As he clung to Akira’s shoulder, Al felt a thrill of excitement. Akira’s friend… Anyone who could get along with someone as irritable as Akira must be a patient and gentle man. Or maybe it was a woman.

The embalming facility had a consultation room where families could discuss their wishes for the deceased. For example, whether they wanted the body simply cleaned and dressed or if they wanted full preservation treatment, along with discussions about clothing, shoes, hairstyle, makeup, and the type of coffin. However, in Japan, it was rare for families to visit the embalming facility to convey their detailed wishes directly to the embalmer. Usually, they just sent the body, a photo of the deceased, and the clothes and shoes. Since the embalming facility was part of the funeral hall, the staff there often handled everything, and the family didn’t see the embalmer directly. Akira had once lamented, “It’s easier to understand their wishes if they tell us directly.”

When Al entered the rarely-used consultation room perched on Akira’s shoulder, the man inside was seated comfortably in a chair upholstered with Gobelin fabric. What stood out most wasn’t his appearance but the bold, stylish Aloha shirt he was wearing. The design was striking and cool, though Al couldn’t appreciate the colors since his vision as a bat was monochrome. Akira’s closet was filled with black and white clothing, with no patterns to speak of. Al often thought that since Akira was handsome, he should wear more colorful clothes.

“Hey, it’s been a while! Twelve years, right?” the man said with a broad smile, standing up from the chair and approaching them. He was slightly shorter than Akira but about one and a half times broader. He wasn’t exactly fat but was quite stocky. The short beard on his chin and his frameless glasses were notable features. While his face showed his age, his imposing build made him seem older than Akira.

“You show up without any prior notice, insist on seeing me despite being told I wouldn’t, and make a scene. It seems your self-centered nature hasn’t improved at all over the years,” Akira said, in words that were far from what one would expect after meeting a friend for the first time in over a decade. Even Al, who was used to Akira’s harsh words, was taken aback. He worried that the man might take offense and leave, but it turned out this man was more than capable of handling Akira. Instead of being offended, he burst out laughing.

“Hahaha… you haven’t changed a bit,” the man laughed heartily, slapping his knee. A vein pulsed in Akira’s forehead.

“That’s right, you’ve always been like this, blurting out whatever’s on your mind without considering the situation. I sent a message through Nukariya at the last reunion saying I wanted to see you, but you didn’t come. Nukariya’s a tight-lipped guy too; no matter how many times I asked, he wouldn’t give me your contact information. But there aren’t many embalmers around, so it wasn’t hard to find you,” the man continued.

“Sakeiri, just get to the point. I don’t have time for this,” Akira said, jerking his chin in irritation.

“Don’t rush. …By the way, is that thing on your shoulder…?” The man, called Sakeiri, pointed directly at Al. In an attempt to be polite, Al tilted his head and let out a cute “Squeak.”

“Oh wow, it squeaked,” Sakeiri said, his shoulders twitching in surprise.

“Don’t worry about it,” Akira said.

“How can I not worry about it? Is that a bat? Why are you carrying a bat on your shoulder?”

Akira glared at Al with annoyance, as if saying, “I told you to stay in the break room.”

“It’s my pet.”

“Your pet? But it’s a bat!”

“I can keep whatever pet I want,” Akira retorted.

Sakeiri gave a nonchalant “Hmm” and then suddenly took out his smartphone, aiming it at them. A clicking sound followed.

“Hey, what did you just take a picture of?” Akira’s frown deepened.

“Your pet bat,” Sakeiri replied.

“Don’t take pictures without permission. Delete it,” Akira demanded, stepping forward. Sakeiri quickly retreated behind the chair.

“Don’t be stingy about a pet photo. A guy with a pet bat is pretty rare—it could be a great story. Don’t worry, your face isn’t in it,” Sakeiri said casually as he tucked his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Al thought, This guy isn’t easily intimidated. He was handling Akira, who was typically impossible to deal with, quite well. Sakeiri then muttered, “Let’s get to the main topic.”

“You probably heard from Nukariya, but I’m a TV producer. This fall, we’re airing a drama based on the manga BLOOD GIRL Mahiro, about a vampire girl. In the third episode, there’s going to be an embalmer, and I was hoping you could consult on it,” Sakeiri explained.

“No,” Akira replied immediately. Sakeiri twisted his body to the right in an exaggerated motion.

“Come on, we’re friends. Help me out. It’s a thirty-minute late-night show, so the shooting and commitment times are short. We’ll pay you, of course.”

“I said no. Didn’t you hear me?” Akira said, turning to leave, indicating the conversation was over. Sakeiri called out in a pleading voice, “Don’t be so mean.” Akira spun around so quickly that Al nearly lost his grip and had to tighten his claws.

“If you had contacted me in advance, checked my availability, and then approached me in an orderly manner, I might have listened. But you’re too inconsiderate. If I let you off easy, you’ll just keep pushing the boundaries. I haven’t forgotten how much trouble you caused me in high school,” Akira snapped.

Sakeiri let out a pitiful “Ehhh…” in response.

"But it was true, wasn’t it? You really did some gravure modeling for a gay magazine," Sakeiri said, dropping a bombshell that left Al with his mouth hanging open in shock.

"Isn’t it more considerate to keep quiet if you notice something like that?"

Al was taken aback a second time when Akira didn’t deny it. A gay magazine... Akira had rejected Muroi, but was he actually gay? No, wait, Akira didn’t reject Muroi because he was gay; it was because he wasn’t attracted to people in general...

"No way could I keep quiet about something this interesting."

Sakeiri's shoulders shook with laughter.

"And that’s why you’re such an irresponsible jerk. If the school had found out, I would’ve been expelled."

"I never told the teachers or our friends that you were in that magazine. I knew you were a scholarship student, and I heard from Nukariya that you were doing it to make ends meet. So, I just spread the part about you being gay. You were unnecessarily good-looking, so everyone just assumed the rumors were true."

...Al was starting to understand why Akira was so cold toward Sakeiri.

"Because of you, I got dozens of ridiculous letters saying things like ‘I want you as my big brother’ or ‘I want you as my little brother.’"

"Well, we went to an all-boys school. Just consider it a precious page in your youth. So, please, I’m begging you, be the supervisor."

"I like helping people, but I don’t want to help you."

Akira’s blunt honesty was met with a short silence before Sakeiri clapped his hands together as if remembering something.

"Oh, there’s one more favor I need to ask. There’s a vampire character coming in the latter half of the drama. I saw this foreigner in a magazine the other day who would be perfect for the role. He’s handsome but has this slightly old-fashioned, classic vibe, you know? I tried asking the agency, but they wouldn’t give me any details. But after persistently nagging the female president, I found out that this model isn’t a professional. He’s just here to study Japanese and is living with an embalmer. Then it hit me—at the reunion, Nukariya mentioned in passing that you were living with a foreigner. As big as Tokyo is, there can’t be that many embalmers living with foreigners."

"I don’t know him. Must be someone else."

Akira’s tone was curt.

"I asked the young guy I met in the hallway earlier, ‘Isn’t Takatsuka-san living with a foreigner?’ and he said, ‘It seems so.’"

Akira let out a loud, irritated click of his tongue.

"Is that foreigner your lover?"

"He’s just a freeloader. I’ve never had any homosexual inclinations, neither in the past nor now."

"Even so, it sure seems like you’re living the gay life."

"Talking to you is a waste of time. Get out! I won’t supervise, and I won’t lend out my freeloader."

At this, Sakeiri, who had been acting so high-handedly, suddenly lowered his voice, bringing his hands together in a pleading gesture.

"I’m really asking you for a favor here. To be honest, this drama doesn’t have much of a budget. It’s set for a late-night slot, and after splurging on the lead actress, the rest of the budget’s really tight. But just because we’re low on money doesn’t mean I want to produce something half-baked. Foreign actors are expensive through agencies, so I thought it’d be cheaper to negotiate directly with your… partner. Besides, the vampire role is mostly just standing around with a couple of lines—no high-level acting skills needed. It’s more about the image, like a symbol."

Even though Sakeiri claimed to care about quality, suggesting the use of an amateur model seemed a bit off. And calling someone both "handsome" and "old-fashioned" felt a little insulting.

"If your budget’s tight, maybe that’s a reflection of how your past work’s been received. Isn’t that just your level?"

Akira didn’t hold back. Sakeiri clutched his head.

"Ouch, that was harsh. But, you know, there are a lot of reasons things are the way they are in this industry. Come on, Takatsuka, please help me out here."

Sakeiri bowed his head repeatedly. When Akira’s expression didn’t change, he suddenly dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor as if worshiping Akira.

"Please, I’m begging you, Takatsuka. I’m really asking for your help."

Akira’s mouth twitched as he watched Sakeiri’s desperate display. Despite his flippant attitude, Sakeiri’s sincerity came through.

"Hey, lift your head."

"I’m not moving until you agree. I’ll stay here, bowing for two or three days if I have to."

Akira crossed his arms and sighed deeply, looking truly troubled. Then he muttered, as if resigning himself, "Just this once."

"You’ll do it?"

Sakeiri’s face lit up with joy as he lifted his head.

"But only as a supervisor. I need to talk to the funeral home’s PR first to see if they’ll approve, but if they get credit, it shouldn’t be an issue. And I’m not lending out my freeloader. That’s non-negotiable."

"Come on, don’t be stingy. Just let me borrow your boyfriend for a bit."

Akira pointed at Sakeiri, who was now pleading with a whiny tone.

"He’s not my boyfriend; he’s my housemate. Let’s be clear: I’m not gay. Not in high school, not now."

"You don’t have to hide anything from me."

Sakeiri shrugged.

"Just because two men live together doesn’t mean they’re gay. You know that, right?"

"Well, maybe 90% of the time, they are."

Sakeiri chuckled, rubbing his chin.

"Then I’m in the remaining 10%. If you keep insisting on borrowing my housemate, I’ll back out of supervising too. This conversation never happened."

"Okay, okay, just the supervision is fine."

...In the end, Akira agreed to participate in Sakeiri’s drama as a supervisor. Al was a bit pleased that he had been scouted for the vampire role after being spotted in a magazine (even if it was just an old friend trying to cut costs). Although he was curious about Japanese TV dramas, he knew better than to joke about wanting to appear on TV, especially considering how furious Akira had been over the magazine photos.

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