Chapter 2 God Bless You - part 3

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In the morning, when Tokame arrived at the set, he was informed of a packed schedule: seven scenes to shoot, including one carried over from the previous day. There was also a magazine photo shoot and interview planned, meaning Sato wouldn’t be arriving until five in the afternoon, so they decided to focus on filming Kamonagi’s scenes first.

The scenes included Kamonagi descending a staircase, making tea, and washing her face in the bathroom. Kamonagi naturally embodied her character, Hisae, so seamlessly that no corrections were necessary. They shot from various camera angles, and the only retake was due to interference from a community broadcast announcement. Compared to yesterday—when they had taken up to sixty takes for a single scene—today’s shoot progressed smoothly, putting the crew at ease. Even the director’s expression appeared brighter.

Though filming itself went well, a lengthy scene from the previous day had delayed the schedule, leaving no time for a proper break. The crew ate lunch when they could find a moment. Watching the filming progress at this quick pace was fascinating, even from Tokame’s slightly detached perspective as he operated the camera. Before he realized it, the clock had already passed four in the afternoon, and he hadn’t yet eaten lunch.

Finally feeling hungry, Tokame headed to the six-tatami room on the second floor, which served as the staff’s break room. No one was there, and aside from some snacks on the desk, the room was empty. A cardboard box, which once held boxed lunches, had been repurposed as a trash container. Just in case, he checked inside, but it was only wrappers.

This was Tokame’s first time missing a boxed lunch on set. With no other choice, he decided to head out to buy something. Just as he stepped into the hallway, he encountered a staff member responsible for supplies, who worked under Shimabara. Not one to fuss over a single missing lunch, Tokame nonetheless thought it was worth mentioning in case it happened again. “Hey, I didn’t get my lunch today,” he remarked lightly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” The staff member apologized, bowing his head. “We always buy a few extras just in case, and about an hour ago, Shimabara-san asked, ‘Can I take the leftover lunches?’ Thinking it was getting late and that there were extras, I told him, ‘Sure, go ahead.’ He ended up taking four. Shimabara-san and I had lunch around one, so I did think it odd that he took an extra one, but I didn’t give it much thought. But now that you mention it, that was probably yours.”

The staff member apologized again, promising to “make sure there’s enough for everyone until the end,” even offering to go out and buy another lunch right away. Holding his wallet, he looked ready to go, but Tokame declined. Other staff were calling for the man, and he seemed diligent enough that Tokame didn’t expect this to happen again.

Since the lighting setup would take some time, Tokame decided to head out to eat. He found a shabby diner by the sea, where he joined the salty fishermen and enjoyed a richly flavored oyakodon.

Afterward, he climbed back up the hill to the set, returning just as the lighting setup was completed.

“Hey, Tokame! Where’d you go?” Isono called out, holding a low table.

“Just out to grab a bite,” Tokame replied.

Isono stopped in his tracks and gave Tokame a puzzled look. “You didn’t have to go out; we have lunches here, you know.”

“They were gone,” Tokame replied. “So—”

Before he could finish, Isono placed the table down at the end of the hallway and marched over to Shimabara, who was talking to Habu.

“Shimabara-san, can I have a word?”

“I’m busy. Make it quick,” Shimabara said dismissively, waving his hand without even looking.

“Enough with the excuses!” Isono’s shout echoed, making Shimabara visibly flinch.

“I saw you giving out the boxed lunches in the break room to your friends who dropped by. Now some of the staff didn’t get to eat because of you! What do you plan to do about that?”

“Look, I already cleared it with the staff…” Tokame tried to interject, but Isono cut him off, yelling, “Stay out of this!”

The hallway fell silent as other staff members turned to watch. Realizing the situation, Shimabara looked around awkwardly, glancing at the others.

“Oh, um… is that right? I thought they were extras and figured no one would need them…” he stammered, fumbling for an excuse.

“Those lunches aren’t yours to hand out! Don’t act like they’re your personal stash!”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Shimabara muttered, but the others continued to regard him with cold stares.

“It’s not just this time. Even yesterday…” Isono began to continue, but Habu abruptly intervened, slipping himself between the two of them, saying, “Alright, alright.”

“Shimabara already apologized. Anyone can make a mistake. Let’s not keep scolding him in front of everyone. All we need is to ensure this doesn’t happen again with the staff’s lunches,” Habu said, trying to defuse the situation.

Isono scoffed, laughing sharply through his nose. “This isn’t just a ‘mistake.’ Only an idiot would pull something like that!”

Habu’s face immediately grew tense. “And you’re one to talk? You keep messing up with the props too—half the time, they don’t even match the requirements.”

“Those screw-ups are because of that useless jerk over there!” Isono shot back, pointing at Shimabara. “I don’t know what excuses he’s been feeding you, but he’s the one who failed to pass the director’s orders along to props! He keeps blaming others to cover for his own negligence!”

“Don’t make baseless accusations! Do you have any proof that Shimabara didn’t communicate the orders?” Habu shot back.

Isono fell silent, frustrated. There was an order sheet for props, but many details, like specific shapes or designs, were often communicated verbally. He couldn’t produce hard evidence. Habu likely knew that.

“What’s all this commotion about?” Wakibuchi, hearing the raised voices, came rushing over.

“Oh, it’s nothing much. It seems there weren’t enough lunches for the staff…” Habu attempted to downplay the situation with a calm face, but Wakibuchi cut him off, exclaiming, “That’s a serious issue!” He exaggeratedly threw his arms wide open, almost like a foreigner expressing dismay.

“Shimabara, you need to ensure that there are always extra lunches on hand for emergencies, more than the headcount allows,” Wakibuchi said.

Isono interjected, “There were enough lunches. Shimabara handed them out to outsiders, which is why we ran short.”

Habu glared at Isono. “You, keep quiet.”

“That’s practically embezzlement! Anyone would be angry about that,” Wakibuchi remarked. “Embezzlement is a bit much,” Habu replied with a forced smile.

“What’s so funny?” Wakibuchi’s voice turned stern. Habu’s face stiffened under his intense gaze.

“Eating the lunches provided is our right. That’s even in our contract, isn’t it? Being fed is fundamental. Neglect that, and no one here will listen to a word you say. And trust me—there’s nothing people resent more than being denied food. We’re here to make sure everyone works in a pleasant environment,” Wakibuchi added.

Wakibuchi continued, glancing at the now silent Habu. “Or are you planning to shoot this movie all by yourself? If you can manage that, fine by me.”

Habu pressed his lips together in a pout, much like a scolded child, making no effort to hide his displeasure, even in front of his older peer, Wakibuchi. When the director returned to the set, Habu muttered, “I’ll go get the actors,” and left the room, with Shimabara hurrying after him. Watching them leave, Wakibuchi scratched his chin thoughtfully.

“Habu’s worked on multiple sets at his father’s place, right?” Wakibuchi muttered to himself with a sigh. Despite his experience, Habu clearly struggled with his interpersonal skills. No matter his personal preferences, he should treat all the staff equally, at least outwardly. Wakibuchi wondered where Habu’s careless remarks came from. It wasn’t as if he was being calculating… no, it seemed more childish. Habu was simply childish.

Sato arrived on set just then, while Kamonagi notified them she’d be a bit late. As Tokame prepared the camera, Isono approached, bowing his head. “Sorry about earlier.”

“It’s fine,” Tokame replied, but Isono still looked downcast.

Kamonagi entered, apologizing for the delay, while Habu returned, making no effort to even glance Wakibuchi’s way, let alone speak with him. It was anything but mature. When Wakibuchi caught Tokame’s eye, he shrugged as if to say, “What can I do?”

With the atmosphere still slightly tense, the shoot resumed. This time, it was a love scene. Though it wasn’t particularly demanding, Sato’s movements were stiff right from the beginning.

Sato embraced Kamonagi, kissed her neck, and slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt. Yet this simple scene was repeatedly retaken. The key point—the raw desire of a man lusting after an older woman—was missing in Sato's performance. To be blunt, there was no sensuality. In contrast, Kamonagi’s performance was natural and skillful, highlighting Sato’s lack of polish all the more.

After calling for the twenty-third retake, the director pressed a hand to his chin, deep in thought. Without his next instruction, no one could move. Everyone held their breath, waiting for guidance.

“…Wakibuchi-san, what’s your take on this scene?” the director asked. Wakibuchi crossed his arms thoughtfully.

“Well, perhaps we could use a ceiling camera for an overhead shot… though I doubt we have the height for it.”

An overhead angle would obscure Sato’s face as he leaned over, and the change in camera work might help smooth over the awkwardness. The problem, however, was that the ceiling was low, making it impossible to capture the full body unless they cut through the ceiling to place the camera.

Habu stood to the side, lips pursed as he checked his watch repeatedly, tapping his right foot impatiently. The constant sound only heightened the sense of urgency. They had been behind schedule since day one, and if they didn’t complete today’s shots as planned, they’d need to reschedule yet again, disrupting the actors’ availability. His irritation was understandable, but still…

“Habu-kun, what do you think?” the director asked. Habu replied firmly, “I think the fifth rehearsal was the best.”

Indeed, the fifth run had been the most decent of the rehearsals so far. Decent, but… The director made no reply and continued to stare silently at the blank monitor, resting his cheek on his hand.

“Tokame-kun, what are your thoughts?”

Habu shot Tokame a look that seemed to ask, “Why is he asking you?” Unsure if he should speak up, Tokame reasoned that, like Habu, he’d simply be ignored if his input wasn’t welcome.

“How about changing their movements?” Tokame suggested.

The director looked directly into Tokame’s eyes, as if to gauge his idea. “How so?”

“For example… right now, they start by looking at each other, then Sato kisses her neck. But what if, instead, Sato tries to kiss her, Hisae rejects him, and he responds by ducking his head under her skirt?”

A stifled laugh escaped from Habu, who covered his mouth, sneering as he muttered, “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

“I can’t even picture it,” Wakibuchi added disapprovingly. “Visually, it doesn’t sound appealing at all. It feels like a schoolboy prank, peeking under skirts.”

The director also looked down, silent. Just as Tokame thought his idea had been rejected, the director suddenly lifted his head. “Let’s try it that way.”

“…No need to be so desperate…” Habu’s muttered complaint reached Tokame’s ears. Although both he and the director were serious, it was clear Habu didn’t get it. Even so, Tokame wished he’d keep his thoughts to himself; hearing them dampened his own motivation.

Kamonagi and Sato were called over by the director. With a brief explanation from Tokame, Kamonagi immediately nodded, “Got it,” while Sato, already nervous about the love scene, seemed even more unsettled by the new direction and stammered, “I… I don’t get it.”

As Tokame wondered if he should write it out, the script supervisor, Ichinose, offered him her notepad and pen. Even after Tokame sketched out the scene, Sato’s expression remained sullen. Perhaps it wasn’t that he didn’t understand, but rather that he didn’t want to act out a scene where he buried his face under a skirt.

“Tokame-kun, would you mind acting out the part of Sakiya once, please?” the director asked, surprising Tokame with a quick “Eh?”

“You seem suited to giving direction,” the director replied, settling into his chair as the camera was readied. With no other choice, Tokame entered the set, bowed to Kamonagi, and sat across from her.

“Alright, action!” Habu called out in a tone reminiscent of the real take, perhaps out of spite. Pushing aside his mild irritation, Tokame met Kamonagi’s gaze. He leaned in, miming a kiss, then paused. Since there was no reaction, he whispered to Kamonagi, “Could you push against my chest here?”

Kamonagi gave a startled look before pressing her hand against Tokame’s chest.

"Move back about halfway," Tokame instructed. Kamonagi obediently edged backward, inch by inch, a movement full of anticipation and a hint of restraint, as if torn between impulse and rationality. Watching Kamonagi’s nuanced performance, Tokame couldn’t help but think she was impressively skilled.

As Kamonagi tried to pull away, Tokame grasped her ankle, lifted her skirt, and pressed his nose to her thigh. Kamonagi’s body trembled in response. Tokame did nothing further, simply waiting for her to finish the scene before lifting his face. The director took his time before finally calling “Cut.”

With Kamonagi’s cheeks slightly flushed, Tokame felt a twinge of guilt at having her perform such an intimate scene with him and murmured an apology. When he returned to the director, he found both him and Wakibuchi leaning in, watching the monitor intently.

“That was far more erotic than I’d imagined,” the director muttered, pointing at the screen.

"But here," he continued, "I think starting with a shot of Sakiya’s upper body would be better. Then move up to Hisae’s upper body, and zoom in from there."

"Sounds good," Wakibuchi agreed.

"After holding the shot for a bit, let’s roll… we’ll need an overhead angle too. We should be able to get a nice shot of Hisae’s upper body that way. Shall we give it a try?”

With this direction, the once-stalled set came back to life. Focusing the camera on Kamonagi shifted attention away from Sato’s awkward performance. Sato’s movements also became more pronounced and varied, allowing him to maintain his presence in the scene. Tokame had suggested the actors’ actions, but the camera work and shot composition brought a fresh impact to the scene. The director, though stubborn in his ways, had an impressive knack for incorporating others' ideas and adding his unique touch.

With momentum regained, they moved through the remaining scenes, albeit with a few retakes. Despite wrapping at two in the morning, they completed all the planned shots for the day.

The following morning’s filming was set to start early. As Tokame and Isono finished packing up, Ichinose playfully latched onto Isono’s arm, calling, “Great work!”

“You’re heavy, you know!”

“Come on, we’re finally done. I’m starving—let’s grab something to eat.”

“This isn’t Tokyo. There’s nothing nearby except a convenience store,” Isono grumbled, though he didn’t pull away from Ichinose.

“Oh, Tokame-san, today’s love scene was super sexy!” Ichinose, still hanging off Isono’s arm at an angle, gave a mock salute like a marine.

“What’s so sexy about him?” Isono, who hadn’t been on set for the scene, looked puzzled. After Ichinose recounted how Tokame’s suggestion had saved the stalled shoot, Isono nodded approvingly. “Well, every trade has its master,” he commented, grinning. “I’d have loved to see Kamonagi’s seductive side myself,” he added, only for Ichinose to stomp on his foot.

“Oh, by the way, Kamonagi said she’d like to chat with you more, Tokame-san,” Ichinose mentioned.

Isono whistled. “Yorozu, good looks really do pay off.”

“If you’re interested, I could get Kamonagi’s number and email for you,” Ichinose offered, with a hint of mischief in her tone. Feeling the weight of this unexpected suggestion, Tokame quickly declined, “No, that’s okay.”

“Why not?” Isono pushed, sounding eager. “Kamonagi may be older, but she’s gorgeous!”

“Yeah, she’s also a really nice person,” Ichinose chimed in.

Wondering why they were both encouraging him, Tokame replied, “I’m actually seeing someone right now,” and instantly noticed their excitement deflate.

“Well… I guess a good guy doesn’t stay single for long,” Ichinose sighed, looking disappointed. Tokame briefly considered explaining that he was gay but held back. Since they were sharing rooms for the month-long shoot, he worried about making anyone uncomfortable. He decided it would be simpler to keep quiet until the filming wrapped.

Isono offered to walk Ichinose to her hotel, and Tokame parted ways with them on the way back. Returning to the inn, he headed straight for the bath, where he bumped into Wakibuchi in the changing room.

“Oh? Weren’t you with Isono?” Wakibuchi asked.

“He’s escorting Ichinose-san to her hotel.”

“Ah, right—those two are dating,” Wakibuchi remarked, rolling his bare shoulders and muttering, “My shoulders are so stiff.”

“Oh, by the way, I heard you used to direct adult films, Tokame-kun,” Wakibuchi mentioned.

“Yes, although I haven’t shot any in a while,” Tokame replied.

“Ah, that explains it,” Wakibuchi nodded with a knowing look.

“Talking to the director made sense of it all. You seemed so skilled at guiding the acting—and handling the lady, too. Since you’re such a good-looking guy, I thought maybe it was just a matter of experience,” Wakibuchi said, squinting his eyes with a sly grin.

“That love scene was far steamier when you were her partner. Kamonagi was so much more seductive with you. Her cheeks turned pink, and her eyes were all dewy. She’s always had a sultry air, but that was something else.” With that, he slapped Tokame firmly on the shoulder.

“Apparently, she’s interested in you. Quite the charmer!” Wakibuchi laughed, leaving a large red handprint of mock envy on Tokame’s shoulder as he headed into the bath. You’re married, though, Tokame thought, watching him go. Just as he was undressing, his cell phone dropped to the floor with a clatter.

He checked it, but there were still no messages. Come to think of it, he hadn’t sent one last night since it had gotten so late. This was the first time he hadn’t sent a message since they’d started dating.

He recalled that long ago, an ex had once scolded him to “send a message at least once a day.” At the time, he’d taken it to heart, so since then, he’d always made sure to send a message daily to anyone he was seeing.

That same partner who demanded daily messages had later broken up with him over text. All he replied was, “Got it.” They’d been together a long time, but he hadn’t thought to try to hold on. If the other person said it was over, then it was over. As soon as he sent that reply, the partner instantly became “the past.”

Now, there was no message, no apology. Still no reply. And yet, unlike with his former lover, he couldn’t quite let this one fade into the past, nor did he want to. Unwilling to entertain the thought that it might truly be over, Tokame tossed his phone into the laundry basket with a rough shove.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

On the fourth day of shooting, the morning was spent filming in Hisae’s garden. The sky was perfectly clear, making the heat unbearable. The sun was so strong that it cast deep shadows across faces, requiring extra lighting adjustments. With the combination of sunlight and artificial lights, everyone working in the garden was drenched in sweat.

The actors, too, began sweating almost immediately, resulting in frequent makeup touch-ups. Even Kamonagi, who’d said she didn’t sweat much on her face, wasn’t immune. Exposed skin on the crew members’ faces, arms, and legs turned red from the intense sun. Habu, however, was unusually pale. At first, the hat he wore hid this fact, but up close, his face was visibly pale, almost blue. Tokame wondered if he was unwell, but Habu continued working steadily.

By 3 p.m., they had finished filming in the garden, temporarily wrapping up scenes at Hisae’s house.

Next up was a scene set in the editorial office where Sato’s character works. A local town magazine had offered full cooperation, letting them use the entire editorial department for the shoot, though they only had access to the space for the day. The crew began packing up quickly, preparing to relocate.

Tokame recalled overseas shoots where they worked in remote areas without stable electricity. Back then, the heat and sweating seemed only natural. But after returning to the comforts of Japan, he’d forgotten what it was like. Observing everyone working through the sweat held a certain fascination, and as he busied himself capturing various shots, he once again missed the lunchtime break.

Deciding to grab a bite while he still could, he headed to the staff break room. Only one boxed lunch remained, labeled with his name, "Tokame." Since the issue of him missing lunch a few days ago, the staff member in charge had created a checklist, labeling any leftover lunches with the names of those who hadn’t picked theirs up. Shimabara’s sloppy management style was only holding together because his assistants were on top of things.

Since no one else was around, the air conditioner had been turned off, and the windows were wide open. In the sweltering room, Tokame quickly devoured the fried chicken bento. Finishing his meal and taking a breather, he rose slowly. Since they wouldn’t be filming at this house again, he decided to lock up. As he approached the window, he heard voices outside. Looking down, he saw Ichinose and Sato standing on the west side of the house, facing each other.

"Are you off on the morning of the 28th?" Ichinose tilted her head.

Sato nodded, looking apologetic. “My manager forgot I have an interview scheduled. I was hoping to move it to the 29th, our break day, but they said they couldn’t adjust on their end. I’m really sorry. My manager’s only been with me a month and is still getting the hang of things, so there’ve been a few slip-ups.”

“I understand. I’ll see what I can work out. I’ll have to check with Habu-san first, but it should be fine,” Ichinose replied.

“Thank you,” Sato said, bowing his head.

Tokame was surprised—was Sato handling his own schedule negotiations? In adult film shoots, the manager always handled scheduling for actresses.

“By the way, Ichinose-san, do you have plans on the 29th?” Sato asked.

Ichinose laughed and scratched her head with a pen. “I’ll probably just be lying around at the hotel.”

“Filming’s been tough. I heard from a friend about a place that serves amazing crab. If you’re free that night, would you like to join me? It’d be awkward going alone.”

“Oh, well… maybe we could all go together,” Ichinose suggested.

A slightly awkward silence followed, and Sato gave a wry smile.

“It’s a French restaurant, so it’s not really the kind of place for a large group,” he explained.

It seemed like Sato and Habu were on good terms, and if it was about adjusting the schedule, talking directly to Habu would likely resolve things faster. But there had to be a reason why he deliberately chose to bring it up with the script supervisor in a deserted spot...

It seemed Ichinose had picked up on the atmosphere. “I only brought T-shirts with me. At a fancy place, I’d probably stick out,” she said hesitantly.

“It’s not that formal. Don’t worry about it,” Sato assured her. “Come on?” he added, giving her an encouraging look.

Just then, Tokame swung the window with force, creating a loud bang. The sound startled the two, who looked up in surprise.

“Ichinose-san, so this is where you were,” Tokame called out to her.

She looked visibly relieved and responded, “Oh, we were just discussing work…”

“Isono was looking for you. He seemed to be in quite a hurry.”

“Oh, really? Wonder what that’s about? Well then, Sato-san, I’ll follow up with you about the schedule,” Ichinose said, seizing the opportunity to make her escape. She hurried off, leaving Sato staring up the hill at Tokame. Sato shot him a glare unbefitting someone from a prestigious acting family, then, with a hmph, turned and walked away.

Tokame wondered if he should just tell Sato that Ichinose already had a boyfriend. But bringing it up when nothing had happened yet might damage Sato’s pride and lead to more trouble. Since Ichinose and her partner weren’t exactly hiding their relationship, Sato would likely figure it out on his own in due time.

With his camera backpack in hand, Tokame left Hisae’s house and headed down the hill, walking for about fifteen minutes under the blazing sun. The five-story building housing the editorial office was easy to spot with staff milling around outside.

From below, he saw a ladder propped up by the second-story window, and someone in a T-shirt, likely a crew member, moving back and forth. The shot composition was interesting, so he took a few photos from below before heading inside. As he entered, the elevator doors opened, and Yashiro from the vehicle department emerged, supporting someone. The man he was helping was doubled over, barely able to stand, with a ponytail that swayed loosely with each step.

“What happened?” Tokame asked.

Yashiro sighed and said, “Seems he’s not feeling well.” He helped Habu into the back seat of a nearby van, driven by another crew member. The car, carrying the ailing Habu, sped off towards the hospital.

Realizing the chief assistant director was down for the count, Tokame went up to the second floor, where nearly twenty staff members were gathered in an uncharacteristic silence. Spotting Isono, he quietly approached.

“What happened with Habu?” Tokame whispered.

“No idea,” Isono replied with a shake of his head. “He looked out of it as soon as he got here. Someone mentioned heatstroke, so we had him resting in a corner, but he suddenly started vomiting and couldn’t move. So Yashiro-san rushed him to the hospital.”

Ichinose raised her right hand from where she stood next to the director. “Let’s keep focused, everyone,” she announced. “While we’re concerned for Habu-san, there’s nothing we can do except leave it to the doctor. We’ll continue with the planned shooting schedule.”

“Fine for today, but what about tomorrow?” someone from the sound crew asked.

“It’ll depend on Habu-kun’s condition, but how about we ask Ichinose-san to take over some of the assistant director duties?” Wakibuchi suggested, turning to the director. The director, arms crossed, looked over at Ichinose. “Ichinose-san, would you be able to do that?”

All eyes turned to Ichinose, who gave a slight shiver at the weight of their collective gaze.

Since the script supervisor and chief assistant director typically coordinated the shoot’s schedule, pacing, and logistics together, it made sense to ask Ichinose to step in. However, as the script supervisor, she also had to keep detailed shooting records, making this a significant extra burden on her.

Clutching her notes to her chest, Ichinose nodded. “In an emergency, I’ll take on the scheduling, but it’s impossible to handle everything alone. I know we’re short-staffed, but could we assign someone to support me?”

“Support, support…” The crew murmured amongst themselves, exchanging glances. Covering the assistant director’s tasks was difficult without someone familiar with the role, ideally the second and third assistant directors. However, both assistants remained silent.

“In that case, I’ll help with support,” Wakibuchi volunteered, only to be interrupted by the head of the camera crew, who shouted, “Hold on a second!”

Wakibuchi’s right-hand assistant, Hasegawa, quickly stepped in, declaring firmly, “There’s absolutely no way Wakibuchi-san can handle that.”

“But can’t you all handle the prep during your spare time?” Wakibuchi countered.

“Chief Assistant Director is a demanding role. Even Habu-san was running all over the place, and for someone like Ichinose-san, it would be tough to manage an older assistant like Wakibuchi-san.” Hasegawa bluntly pointed out what others might have hesitated to say. “I think it’s best for the second and third assistant directors to take on support for the script supervisor.”

Beside them, Isono let out a quiet “Ugh.” No one else voiced any objections.

“So, are we all set with that plan? Namba, as second AD, and Shimabara, as third, will have a bit more to handle, so I’m counting on you.”

Namba, looking unsure, murmured, “Yes,” while Shimabara, looking annoyed, clasped his hands behind his head and replied with a casual, “Sure, sure.”

“If the second and third ADs are both splitting support duties, it’ll only lead to confusion over who’s handling what,” Isono grumbled. Hasegawa shot him a look as if to say, “Don’t mess up a settled plan.”

“I think Tokame would be a good choice,” he said, suddenly naming him.

Startled, Tokame glanced over.

“While he’s filming behind-the-scenes, it seems like he has some flexibility. Plus, he’s directed before, so he understands how to organize a shoot.”

At that moment, Ichinose, who had been quiet, chimed in, “I’d also like to request Tokame-san for the role.”

“With a request from the script supervisor as well, is everyone okay with that?” Wakibuchi asked, and no one objected. Before Tokame could even respond, the director stepped in and declared, “Right, with that settled, let’s continue filming.” While Tokame stood there, stunned, the rest of the crew moved into action.

“Sorry for putting you on the spot,” Isono, clearly a bit of a ringleader, clasped his hands together in mock apology in front of Tokame.

“If we left the planning to someone as loose as Shimabara, everything would be chaos, and though Namba’s a decent guy, he’s a bit slow.”

Tokame sighed, resigned to filling in. “Not like I’m busy anyway.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean ‘free’ like that…” Isono stammered, flustered. Tokame grinned at him, and Isono, annoyed, gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. “What’s that look for?”

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