Chapter 3 End Roll - part 1
───Take 1
Yoshida had been sitting in a corner seat at
the café for nearly an hour. Even when Satoru Shirosaki placed a refill coffee
on his table, he didn’t notice at all. Holding his tray, Satoru casually leaned
over and peeked at Yoshida’s laptop screen, which was filled with text.
“What are you writing? A novel?”
Yoshida turned around, a trio of furrowed lines
creasing his forehead.
“No. It’s a script.”
“A script?”
“Yeah, for a movie.”
Satoru gave a polite “Hmm” and quickly returned
to the counter, not wanting to intrude. He knew Yoshida worked in the film
industry, but he hadn’t known he wrote scripts, too. The thought that a future
hit might be born in this little café made Satoru’s imagination run wild. But
for the next three hours, Yoshida sat in front of his laptop, groaning and
looking anything but inspired.
After finishing his shift, Satoru changed into
his street clothes and slipped out the back entrance of the café into the
alley, where a cool breeze brushed his cheek. He shivered, regretting not
bringing a jacket. Recently, even if the days were hot, the temperature
plummeted after sunset. Say what you will, but it was still September. As he
pushed his bicycle onto the narrow street in front of the café, Yoshida emerged
from the automatic doors at the same time.
“Heading home, Yoshida-san?”
Scratching his thinning hair, Yoshida gave a
wry smile.
“I tried to stick it out, but I didn’t get very
far.”
“Sounds tough.”
“Tell me about it.” Yoshida patted his hefty
side with a sigh. “The script for the next movie I’m doing with Tokame was
thrown entirely on my plate. He’s open to anything, but that freedom is exactly
what’s stressing me out. Tokame just won a major directing award overseas and
has everyone’s attention. If I mess this up, it’s definitely going to be on me.
Just picking a theme is nerve-wracking.”
Yoshida sighed again. “Not that there’s any
point in complaining to you about it, Satoru-kun.”
Satoru’s family used to run a love hotel. Back
when he was in junior high, Yoshida and Tokame were filming adult videos there,
which is how they’d met. That was over ten years ago, and they’d known each
other ever since.
The love hotel where they filmed is long gone
now. After high school, Satoru went to a vocational school to get a chef’s
license and started working evenings at a kappo restaurant while taking shifts
at a small, owner-run café near his apartment during the day. When the
restaurant was closed, he would work a longer shift at the café. He was always
busy, but he enjoyed working with people, so he found it fulfilling.
The café served breakfast and lunch as well, so
both Yoshida and Tokame often dropped by. Somehow, the place had naturally
become a gathering spot for people in the film industry.
“I keep trying out different ideas, jotting
down bits and pieces, but nothing seems to fit,” Yoshida muttered like he was
talking to himself. “Maybe I should just go back to the drawing board.”
“I like funny movies,” Satoru suggested. “What
about something with a comedic vibe?”
“Comedy…” Yoshida muttered, looking even more
troubled. Come to think of it, Tokame and Yoshida often gave him tickets to
their new films, but they’d never made a comedy before. Maybe they just weren’t
into that genre. In that case…
“What about this? You could make a movie
inspired by Tokame-san’s life. You know how some writers pen autobiographical
novels? It’d be like that. Since Tokame-san won an award abroad, a film about
his journey would be interesting, don’t you think?”
Yoshida folded his arms and looked down, lost
in thought. Just as Satoru began to worry he’d said something naïve, Yoshida
looked up with a glint in his eye. “That might actually work.”
“An autobiographical film would be
over-the-top, but Tokame-san has all kinds of stories—just the ones I’ve heard
are fascinating. If I could expand on those, I think I might be able to make
something really good.”
A ringtone sounded from behind him. Satoru
reached into his messenger bag and pulled out his phone. It was a message from
Midori-chan saying, “Dinner’s ready!” followed by several heart emojis, which
warmed his heart. When he glanced at the time in the top-right corner of the
screen, he gasped, “Ah!”
“Ah, shoot. I forgot.”
Satoru opened a streaming app on his phone,
only to see that his battery was down to 1%.
“Sorry, Yoshida-san. Could you let me watch the
livestream on yours for a bit?”
Yoshida smiled and obliged, pulling up the app
on his phone.
“I got a text from my brother earlier saying
he’d be on TV tonight. Oh, looks like it’s starting now.”
“Your brother, Yorozu?”
Yoshida peered at the small screen along with
Satoru. Sure enough, Yorozu was being introduced as a young, good-looking hotel
owner. Satoru knew his brother was attractive, but seeing him introduced as an
“ikemen” made him feel a bit embarrassed. That aside, his brother looked
unusually stiff on screen. Satoru could feel his own shoulders tensing up just
watching him; even Yorozu’s responses to the host seemed awkward.
“He’s really nervous. This isn’t going well.”
Satoru muttered a critique at the screen, and
Yoshida offered, “He’s just an ordinary guy, after all.”
After graduating from university, Yorozu had
taken over their father’s love hotel in the city, only for it to be bought out
as part of a redevelopment project. He used those funds to open a new kind of
long-stay business hotel in the suburbs, which became hugely successful. Now he
managed two business hotels and one love hotel. When the host asked why he’d
opened a love hotel as his third location, Yorozu replied without hesitation,
“Because it was my dream.”
“My brother really doesn’t waver. Even after
Dad’s love hotel closed down, he kept saying he wanted to run one again.”
The love hotel Yorozu had built was an upgraded
replica of their late father’s “Castle Mango,” with the same flashy exterior
and interior decor, taken to even greater levels of gaudiness. It felt like a
throwback, and Satoru honestly wondered if such a design would even work today.
But to his surprise, it had become a hit. His mother, who helped with
administration, said it attracted not only couples but also families and even
groups of friends, appealing to a wide range of ages.
“It feels like just yesterday Yorozu-kun was a
high schooler, and now he’s over thirty. I must be getting old,” Yoshida said,
sounding every bit the middle-aged man he was.
“Ever thought about helping Yorozu-kun run the
hotels in the future?” Yoshida asked.
Satoru shook his head.
“Not really. I prefer cooking. Handling money
and all that complicated stuff isn’t for me. My brother’s been keeping hotel
ledgers since high school—he’s meticulous, so management suits him.”
The segment ended, and Yorozu exited the stage
just as the broadcast switched to a commercial.
“He seemed a bit stiff, but I think he came
across well. Anyway, Satoru-kun, since you’re done for the day, want to grab
some dinner? My treat.”
Satoru bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, but
my girlfriend’s waiting for me with dinner at home.”
“Oh, look at you with a girlfriend and all,”
Yoshida teased him.
Satoru shot back, “How old do you think I am? I
may have a baby face, but I’m almost thirty myself.”
“Oh, right? You always look like you’re still a
student,” Yoshida laughed.
“I’m a full-fledged adult, you know. Anyway,
good luck with the script, Yoshida-san.”
Outside the café, Satoru parted ways with
Yoshida and hopped on his bike.
…A few years ago, his brother had asked him if
he wanted to co-manage the hotel and “take charge of the restaurant side.”
Satoru had turned him down on the spot. He was still just starting out in his
career, in the thick of his training, and didn’t want to take the easy route
from the beginning and end up dependent. Most of all, he hadn’t wanted to rely
on his brother—that would’ve hurt his pride.
Satoru liked and respected his brother. He was
kind, smart, and successful in his work—qualities Satoru felt he lacked. He had
long harbored a complex about Yorozu. That’s why he wanted to open his own
place, build it up, and grow his confidence. He would only work with his
brother when he felt he could stand on equal footing with him.
When Satoru got back to his apartment, Midori,
with her dreadlocked hair, greeted him with a cheerful “Welcome home!” She was
two years younger than him and worked as a sales associate at a select fashion
store in a department store. It was Midori who had picked out the suit for his
brother’s TV appearance.
“You’re home late.”
“Sorry. I ran into someone and got caught up
chatting. Then it got to the time my brother was supposed to be on TV, so I
ended up watching it there.”
“I saw it too! That suit was definitely the
right choice. Everything else was dark, so it helped him stand out. And wow,
your brother’s so handsome—even on TV, he looked like a total heartthrob. He
doesn’t fall short against celebrities at all. Why is it that all the
best-looking men are always gay?”
Satoru didn’t agree out loud. Even if it was
his brother, hearing her praise another man still stung a bit.
“Oh, Satoru,” Midori said, suddenly looking
serious, “I have something important to talk about, but we can do it after
dinner.”
Her sudden serious expression made his heart
skip a beat. They’d been living together for a year now, and with marriage on
the horizon, he was really hoping it wasn’t a breakup talk. Sensing his
anxiety, Midori chuckled and reassured him, “It’s nothing scary.” Then she
gently placed her hand over her stomach.
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