COLD THE FINAL: Chapter 5

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COLD HEART – Fujishima WORKS 2

The first thing Keishi Fujishima did after arriving at the CRUX office was open the windows for ventilation. While airing the room out for about fifteen minutes, he would boot up the computer and do a quick check of the emails.

Although the emails submitted through the company’s homepage were originally screened by the office worker Miyamoto, Fujishima had requested to take over, saying he wanted to hear customers’ voices directly as part of his sales work.

"Fujishima-san, you're really dedicated. But you know, it’s okay to relax a little here. We’re a pretty laid-back place. Our previous vice president, Kusuda-san, was pretty relaxed too. Ah, not in the sense of being irresponsible, but more like he knew how to pace himself. You’re such a capable, hard-working person, but honestly, I worry you’re going to burn yourself out," Miyamoto said.

"I’ll be fine. I may not look strong, but I think I’m pretty tough on the inside," Fujishima answered with a warm smile, bowing his head politely.

He meant it sincerely, but Miyamoto still gave him a doubtful look. It had been six months since he’d joined the company, and he was growing more comfortable with the job—starting to even enjoy it. Among the emails he now reviewed, the most common subject by far had to do with the promotional photos.

CRUX’s image model was the actor Kaito Akizawa—the same man who had once been Kusuda’s lover. But Akizawa’s condition this season was terrible. Devastated by the breakup, he’d wasted away to skin and bone.

Even standing before someone grieving that openly, there was nothing Fujishima could do. When he tried to talk to Akizawa, he got no response. It was as if he didn’t even register Fujishima’s existence—his whole being seemed to scream that you’re not the one I need. Not just to Fujishima, but even to his manager Kuma, to Miyamoto, and even to Tohru—the photographer who had always loudly proclaimed how much he hated Akizawa. And yet, all of them worried about him, while the man himself saw nothing… noticed nothing.

Still, Tohru took Akizawa’s photos—even though he clearly wasn’t in any condition to model. There had been talk of bringing in a stand-in, but Akizawa himself refused. Fujishima had been present at the studio for the photoshoot, which was for novelty goods and posters. Supported by manager Kuma, Akizawa had barely managed to stagger into the studio—only for Tohru to immediately bark, “Strip. All of it.” And to Fujishima’s shock, Akizawa began undressing without a single word of protest.

Is this really okay? Fujishima wondered. As long as both parties agreed, was this acceptable? It was his first time attending a shoot for promotional materials like posters, and he wasn’t sure how to judge what was happening.

As expected, manager Kuma objected furiously. “No one said he’d be getting naked.” That was the normal reaction. But Akizawa silenced him with a sharp, “Shut up,” and gave his consent. So the shoot continued.

Akizawa’s emaciated body looked like a dying rat—pathetic, pitiful. He was a far cry from the concept they’d originally planned, and Fujishima couldn’t imagine how anyone could use the nude body of such a gaunt man to promote a product. But when the photos were finished, he was stunned. What he saw was something that transcended gender, transcended eroticism… it was a silent, desolate kind of beauty—despair itself.

In that moment, Fujishima had only seen a miserable man. But through Tohru’s lens—sharp and merciless though it was—there was empathy. Tohru’s eye had captured Akizawa’s sadness, his wordless cry of I’m hurting, and preserved it.

The poster was both a marketing tool and a glimpse into Akizawa’s private life. Like it or not, his intensely striking presence drew people’s eyes. The moment the poster was released, it became a sensation. Some called the nudity obscene. Others praised it as art. Still others complained about using an underweight model to sell a product. A flood of opinions poured in from all sides.

Tohru’s photographs, when taken according to his instincts, had a completely different atmosphere from his commercial work. The photos of Akizawa this time transcended the boundaries of standard advertising—they revealed something raw and deeply human in Akizawa himself. And within those images, one could also glimpse fragments of Tohru’s own emotions. A desire, perhaps, to lay bare this pitiful yet captivating man.

Even more than a month after the poster's release, it was still being featured on television, and comments continued to pour in. When it first appeared, many reactions were negative—disgusting, people said—but over time, most of the opinions they received had turned into praise: it’s incredible.

Among the emails, one message read: I want a photo book of Kaito Akizawa taken by Tohru Takahisa. Fujishima understood that feeling. He wanted to see it too. Tohru had published several photo collections before, but they had all focused on landscapes or inanimate subjects. He had never released a collection featuring people.

During the Akizawa shoot, Tohru had pressed the shutter countless times. The locations had changed several times, and even though they shot in multiple settings, only a tiny fraction—maybe one five-hundredth, or even a thousandth—would actually be used in CRUX’s novelties. Akizawa had served as CRUX’s image model for several seasons now, and it was always Tohru behind the camera. If they were to select from all that accumulated material, there would be more than enough for a full photo book. Fujishima felt a growing desire to compile a volume of Tohru’s photographs of Akizawa. With the buzz around the recent poster, if they could predict strong sales, maybe it could actually happen. So he promptly brought the idea to Miyamoto.

“A photo book of Akizawa-san?” she echoed, her tone clearly indicating the hurdles ahead.

“You see a lot of women’s photo books, but how would a men’s one do, I wonder? Akizawa-san’s not an idol or anything. Sure, the photos are interesting—some violent, some nude—and right now there’s a lot of buzz, but…”

She looked like she was thinking hard.

“And we’d be publishing it ourselves, right? I wonder how much that would cost. It’s not the same as a novelty item.”

“Want me to get an estimate?”

“You can do that?” Miyamoto looked at him, wide-eyed.

“I used to work for a paper company before I came here. We had relationships with printing houses that handle photo books. I can ask.”

Fujishima went to the bookstore and picked up two photo collections. Using them as reference, he put together a mock order sheet and sent it to a printing company during his lunch break. Within three hours, they replied with a rough estimate. He calculated the cost based on a minimum print run, added a standard retail price, and projected potential profits.

“Fujishima-san, your turnaround is so fast it’s kind of scary,” Miyamoto said, studying the estimate sheet intently. “But now that we’re seeing actual numbers, it feels like a real possibility. And Tohru-san’s name carries weight. I’m starting to think we could do this.”

“The president—Masamitsu-san—likes interesting ideas,” she added. “If we pitch it right, he might go for it. If we’re going to do this, now’s the time, while everyone’s still talking about it.”

When Masamitsu Kusuda came down from the workshop for a break, they flagged him down in the office and the two of them pitched the idea. His response was immediate and casual: “If both Akizawa-san and Tohru-san are okay with it, I’m in.”

Overjoyed, Fujishima contacted Akizawa’s manager, Kuma, right away. Kuma replied, “I’ll check with Numata and get back to you.” Fujishima had expected a reply by the next day—but within ten minutes, he received an enthusiastic “Sounds good.” They hadn’t even discussed the contract yet.

“I’ve already talked to Akizawa,” Kuma explained. “Numata thinks this photo book could be a positive move for Akizawa’s career.”

The only thing left was to get Tohru’s approval, and the photo book could become a reality. Fujishima couldn’t stop the excitement bubbling in his chest. He had always loved books. Ever since working at the paper company, he’d secretly dreamed of someday being involved in making a book. And if it were a book by Tohru, the person he loved—there would be nothing more fulfilling. He might never get another chance like this again.

There were many types of paper used for photo books. He’d ask his former company to send over some samples. He wanted Tohru to see them, to choose the one he liked best… just imagining it filled him with quiet joy.

He wanted to talk to Tohru about the idea, but Tohru had been out shooting all day. Please let time move faster. He just wanted it to be evening already, so he could go home and bring it up. He wanted to ask, Would you make this photo book with me?

A little after four o’clock, Fujishima was checking the list of retail partners for an upcoming fair two months from now when the office door clattered open. A tall man stepped in.

Miyamoto had gone upstairs to check something with Masamitsu, so Fujishima was alone in the office. Tohru came straight over to him. Fujishima had longed for the day to end just so he could see him—he was genuinely moved, as though his wish had been granted.

Tohru placed a hand on his shoulder and began lightly massaging the stiff muscles there. The sensation of those fingers sent a chill down his spine. Tohru knew how prone he was to shoulder tension. Fujishima understood that it was an act of care, of consideration. It was just that—and yet, the fact that his body responded with the budding stir of pleasure made him feel ashamed.

“Did your shoot finish early today?” he asked, trying to speak normally, but his voice still wavered oddly.

“Yeah. Wrapped up quicker than usual.”

Tohru leaned in, pretending to glance at what Fujishima was working on. His scent, laced with the sweat of a long day, hit Fujishima squarely and sent a rush of heat to his cheeks. It was a scent that immediately invoked desire.

“Oh, Tohru-san,” came Miyamoto’s voice from the stairs as she returned from upstairs. The closeness between them broke as Tohru pulled slightly away.

“You’ve been dropping by the office a lot lately,” she said.

“Have I?” Tohru replied with his usual blunt tone. Miyamoto didn’t seem to mind at all—she was used to it. The employees at CRUX all knew that Fujishima and Tohru lived together. But they’d explained the relationship as distant relatives. Fujishima didn’t mind the ambiguity, but he hesitated to say they were lovers. If rumors spread and caused problems for Tohru, whose work required him to be in the public spotlight would be far worse.

“Did Fujishima-san call you here?” Miyamoto asked Tohru, but for some reason, he turned to Fujishima and asked instead, “What’s going on?”

Fujishima was trying to decide where to begin. That people had written in asking for a photo book of Akizawa... But before he could answer, Miyamoto cut in cheerfully, “We were thinking it might be nice to put together a photo book of Akizawa-san’s past shoots—including the older CRUX ads you took.”

“No,” Tohru said flatly.

The bluntness of the refusal left Fujishima momentarily breathless.

“We’re not talking about doing a new shoot,” Miyamoto added quickly. “Just selecting from the photos you’ve already taken.”

“Still no.”

His tone was unyielding.

“If you’re really serious, go through Kurokawa at the agency,” Tohru said coldly.

The chill in his voice left Fujishima speechless. But Miyamoto wasn’t ready to give up. Her tone stayed soft, but she pressed on.

“Fujishima-san is really enthusiastic about this. He even got a quote prepared already. And we’ve already received Akizawa-san’s approval. You don’t need to answer right away, but… could you please reconsider?”

Tohru looked down at Fujishima with a surprised expression.

“Ah, um… about the estimate—don’t worry about that. Someone wrote in through the company homepage saying they wanted a photo book of Akizawa-san, and I just thought… it’d be nice if we could make one. But if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine.”

“Fujishima-san, come on. You were so enthusiastic about it,” Miyamoto cut in, urging him to stay confident.

He hadn’t wanted to pressure Tohru, and now Miyamoto had gone and revealed everything. Tohru’s eyes turned to him, sharp and silent, not bothering to hide his displeasure. Is that true? they seemed to say.

Fujishima did want to make the book—but only if Tohru was willing. If he said no, then that was that. He would never force him.

“So, you really want to make a photo book of Akizawa?”

The way he said it made Fujishima realize Tohru had misunderstood. That wasn’t what this was about.

“It’s not because it’s Akizawa-san… I want to do it because it’s your photography…”

“I asked if you want to make it. Do you—or don’t you?” Tohru’s voice was laced with irritation, and Fujishima flinched.

Those eyes didn’t allow for lies.

“…I do,” Fujishima admitted at last, voice trembling, barely audible. “To be able to make a book… your book… I don’t think I’ll ever get another chance at something this precious.”

Tohru gently smacked the top of his head. “Then just say that from the beginning.”

“I’ll do the photo book,” he said.

The change was sudden, but real. Miyamoto’s voice cracked with joy: “Really?!”

“I’ll provide the photos. They were taken on the job, so use whatever you want.”

But Fujishima immediately stood up, blurting out, “That’s not it.”

“I don’t want to just pick and print them—I want to sit down with you and choose, together. I want to make something we’re both proud of.”

Tohru suddenly grabbed his arm.

He pulled him out into the hallway and into the adjacent archive room, then held him tight in a room that wasn’t even locked. Fujishima didn’t know what had stirred Tohru’s emotions so intensely.

“…Sorry for springing this on you out of nowhere,” he murmured.

“I’m not mad,” Tohru replied, brushing his hand along Fujishima’s cheek.

“Do you… like my photos?” he asked, eyes serious.

Fujishima nodded, over and over.

“Your photos… they feel lonely, but strong—and gentle.”

Tohru’s arms tightened around him. Fujishima leaned in close and whispered into the ear of the man he loved so deeply, “I want to create something beautiful. Something you can believe in… together.”

 

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