Second Serenade: Chapter 03

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Filming began over the summer break. They somehow managed to secure Minako Otomo as their leading actress. As for the male lead, it was their homeroom teacher, Fujisaki-sensei, though he hadn’t exactly been eager to take the role. Despite being their teacher, he'd resisted fiercely at first, not keen on sacrificing his summer to the project. The one who managed to convince him was Sunahara.

Aketo had never liked the way Sunahara stuck his nose into everything without being asked. With Otomo involved, Aketo was determined to avoid relying on Sunahara, no matter how desperate things got during filming.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

And yet, by the third day of shooting, Hayashida broke down and ran to Sunahara for help. It was inevitable. The entire crew was made up of amateurs, most of whom barely understood how to operate the equipment, and the shoot had ground to a frustrating crawl. Time slipped away without progress, fraying everyone’s nerves. Though Otomo never complained, she clearly looked bored, having to wait around for hours with nothing to do — and the one person she seemed to be there for, Sunahara, had yet to show up on set even once.

Of course, that was because Aketo had deliberately brushed off Hayashida's early suggestions to ask Sunahara for advice, insisting that they should try to manage on their own a bit longer.

The first time Hayashida brought Sunahara to the set, they were filming inside the school. It was during a break, and Aketo noticed an unusually large crowd gathering nearby. As he drew closer, he spotted a short guy standing in the center of the group. At first, Aketo assumed it was a student from another class. Sunahara's hair, usually neatly styled, hung messily over his forehead, and he wore a hoodie and jeans, blending in almost too well with the students around him. The childish look in his eyes, peeking through his long bangs, and his small stature made him seem more like a middle schooler than a teacher.

As Aketo stood there, staring in surprise, Sunahara averted his gaze, perhaps feeling awkward under the scrutiny.

"Let me see the script," Sunahara said, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

Before Hayashida could even react, Otomo stepped forward and handed over her copy of the script. She was wearing a simple white dress that day, and as she passed the script to Sunahara, Aketo thought he saw her fingers brush his for a fleeting moment. She quickly pulled her hand back, clasping her fingers against her chest as if to hide the lingering warmth.

Sunahara flipped through the pages, his face expressionless. The rest of the crew watched in tense silence. After a while, he muttered, "Hmm... It's not bad. The basic structure is fine, but you should pay more attention to your shot composition. And even though you’ve got the whole summer ahead of you, you’ll still work more efficiently if you plan out each shoot carefully."

Acting all high and mighty for a shrimp like him... Aketo thought bitterly but held his tongue.

What grated on his nerves even more was how the crew, who had barely listened to his or Hayashida's instructions all day, suddenly snapped to attention at Sunahara's words. Watching Sunahara effortlessly organize the team, issuing instructions without a hint of doubt, made Aketo’s stomach churn.

This isn't right. It's not fair.

Muttering a quick excuse about needing the bathroom, Aketo slipped away from the set, making his way to the back of the school building, far from the crowd.

From the pocket of his cotton pants, he pulled out a cigarette. It wasn't something he did often, only in moments like this when his patience reached its breaking point. He lit it, exhaling a thin, bitter stream of smoke.

"Dammit..."

He had first picked up the habit in his third year of middle school, back when the pressure of entrance exams had him on edge. Even now, he only smoked when the stress became unbearable, and the past few days had definitely pushed him to that point.

"Dammit, Sunahara..."

"What about me?"

Aketo flinched, the cigarette nearly slipping from his fingers. Sunahara stepped out from the shadow of the building, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, Aketo's face tightened, but then he forced a grin, trying to mask his nerves. He let the cigarette drop to the ground and ground it under his shoe, watching as the faint trail of smoke disappeared into the dirt.

"You’ve got some nerve," Sunahara said, his voice low but clear.

He’d been caught red-handed.

"Top of the class, class president, and here you are, smoking behind the school building... some model student you are."

Getting caught smoking would, of course, lead to suspension. Aketo’s face went as white as a sheet. A suspension would crush his academic record and ruin his chances of getting into a good university. He stood frozen, his pale face betraying his panic, while the 'devil' Sunahara burst into laughter.

"Relax. I’m not going to report you to the other teachers," he said, waving off Aketo’s silent terror.

Aketo let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with relief.

"...As long as you behave yourself from now on."

Aketo’s head snapped up, his heart thudding against his ribs. Sunahara’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the way Aketo’s panic seeped through his expression.

"You can hate me all you want, but don’t let your personal grudges get in the way of making this film."

Heat rushed to Aketo’s face, his shame and frustration boiling over. He bit down hard on his lip, his fists clenching at his sides. Sunahara, as if taunting him, pulled out a cigarette of his own, lighting it with deliberate slowness.

Aketo’s eyes went wide, his shock turning to a mix of rage and disbelief as Sunahara took a long, smug drag.

This guy... this guy...

He whipped around and bolted, breaking into a full sprint as he crossed the courtyard, heading for the field where his crew had gathered. His breath came in sharp gasps by the time he reached them, his heart still hammering in his chest.

Kakegawa glanced up, tilting his head in mild confusion.

"What’s up? It’s still break time. No need to rush."

"We’re filming. We’re filming, we’re filming, we’re filming!"

I’m not losing to a guy like that. Never. I’ll make an amazing film without ever needing his help. I swear it.

Kakegawa, still oblivious to the storm raging inside Aketo, gave him a puzzled look and muttered under his breath, "Is he... okay?" before giving a small, uncertain shrug.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Aketo had no idea how things ended up like this, but here he was — in Sunahara’s room. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t just him; Hayashida and Kakegawa were there too.

After being humiliated by Sunahara, Aketo had been determined not to let the guy keep lording over him, so he’d decided to do his own research on filmmaking. But no matter how much theoretical knowledge he crammed into his head, it was all meaningless without actual experience. That was when he called Hayashida, figuring that as the president of the film club, he’d have plenty of movies on hand.

Midway through the call, Hayashida’s tone brightened, as if he’d just had a great idea.

"Actually, Sunahara-sensei has way more movies than I do, and he knows a lot more about film, too. Hey, why don’t we go over to his place and watch some together?"

Aketo had wanted to say no — he’d rather drop dead than ask Sunahara for anything — but Hayashida had already taken his silence as agreement and started making plans.

"Why not make it an all-nighter? We can crash at his place and really dive into some classics. To be honest, I never thought you’d get this interested in film, Aketo. It makes me really happy."

Interested? Aketo had no interest in film whatsoever. The only reason he’d gotten involved was to put Sunahara in his place. Still, he’d stuck his tongue out at the receiver, feeling just a little smug at how easily Hayashida had taken the bait.

"I thought for sure you only agreed to the movie project because you had a thing for Minako Otomo. Sorry for assuming."

It wasn’t like he was trying to hide his interest in Otomo, but now that Hayashida had apologized so clearly, admitting the truth felt strangely difficult.

"Honestly, you’re a smart, serious guy, Aketo. You always seem so cool and distant, so I never imagined you’d go along with this movie idea. I thought you’d just brush it off as a hassle. But you’ve really thrown yourself into this, trying to keep everyone together during the shoot. Watching you work so hard makes the rest of us want to step up, too."

With praise like that, Aketo couldn’t bring himself to refuse. It felt good to be appreciated, and there was no point in correcting Hayashida’s rosy misconception.

But Sunahara was still a problem. Just looking at him, grinning like an idiot as he welcomed them in, made Aketo’s stomach turn. It felt like every smile Sunahara gave him was a small, silent victory.

For the all-night movie marathon, Sunahara had picked films like Plein Soleil, Cinema Paradiso, and Bicycle Thieves — titles Aketo had never even heard of. But according to Sunahara, they were all just the basics, perfect for beginners.

It only took about thirty minutes into the first film for Aketo to realize that he and so-called “classics” did not mix. It wasn’t even 9 PM yet, but he already felt his eyelids growing heavy. At first, he tried to hide his yawns, clenching his jaw to keep them in, but the creeping weight of fatigue soon became impossible to ignore.

Without even shifting his position, he let his eyes close. His mind slipped into darkness, and within a minute, he was out cold, sprawled across the tatami mat.

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