Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

Akina Nakamori held Kitahara Iwa tightly around the waist, as if if she let go, the warm-hearted man in front of her would disappear like a soap bubble.

Kitahara Iwa's hand hovered in mid-air before finally landing gently on her back, clumsily soothing her.

There were few words exchanged between the two, only the sound of their breaths mingling.

Kitahara Iwa knew perfectly well that this was just Nakamori Akina's impulse to escape from fear, not tenderness between lovers.

Drip drip drip drip!

Drip drip drip drip!

A piercing and penetrating electronic ringtone suddenly rang out from Kitahara Iwao's coat pocket without warning.

This was the latest NTT mobile phone on the market at the time, commonly known as the "Big Brother". Although it was much smaller than the earlier shoulder-carry models, it still looked like a brick.

Its bell was incredibly loud, echoing through the empty, quiet corridor, instantly shattering the enchanting atmosphere that had just gathered in the air.

The sharp voice was like a bucket of cold water, instantly waking Nakamori Akina from her emotional reverie.

Like a startled kitten, her body trembled violently, and then, as if electrocuted, she frantically released her grip on Kitahara Iwa and staggered back two steps.

A sense of realism has returned.

Nakamori Akina leaned against the wall, haphazardly wiping away the tears on her face with the back of her hand. Her cheeks were burning red from her earlier outburst, and she lowered her head, not daring to look Kitahara in the eye.

"……Feel sorry."

Kitahara Iwa also somewhat awkwardly straightened his wrinkled coat.

Then he pulled out the black brick that was still screaming wildly and pulled out a long antenna.

The call was connected.

Before Kitahara Iwa could even speak, a vibrant, refreshing girl's voice, like a summer's ramune soda, came through the receiver.

Thanks to the poor soundproofing of the mobile phone and the fact that the corridor was so quiet, the sound clearly reached the ears of Akina Nakamori, who was only two steps away from him.

"Good evening, Kitahara-sensei! I'm Sachiko! Kamachi Sachiko!"

Sachiko Kamachi's voice was filled with barely concealed excitement and shyness, and even her speaking speed was a few beats faster than usual: "Um... although I'm sorry to bother you so late, I just had to tell you first!"

"I got a job interview that involves singing!"

Upon hearing this vibrant voice, Kitahara Iwa's nerves, which had been tense all night, miraculously relaxed.

"Oh? What kind of job is it?"

Kitahara Iwa's voice unconsciously softened considerably.

"It's a modeling job for Toei Karaoke Queen!"

On the other end of the phone, Sachiko was still chattering away, completely unaware of the chaotic scene that had just unfolded: "Even though it wasn't singing, just filming those background scenes... this is my first step!"

Listening to the voice coming from the old-fashioned mobile phone, which seemed to come from a sunny world, Akina Nakamori, who was leaning against the wall, froze in mid-air as she wiped away her tears.

A woman's intuition is often more accurate than radar, especially when it comes to treating others differently.

Using the flickering voice-activated light above her head, Akina Nakamori subconsciously looked up and her gaze fell on Iwao Kitahara's profile.

The next second, her pupils contracted slightly.

Kitahara Iwa is smiling.

The coldness he showed when facing Masahiko Kondo, and the composure he displayed when facing himself, have now completely shed their armor.

His lips curled up slightly involuntarily, and his eyes revealed a relaxed expression that Nakamori Akina had never seen on his face before.

That smile is so pure.

It wasn't a deep pity for a victim like myself, nor a polite distance from a partner, but a genuine joy.

It was to the unfamiliar girl on the phone.

At that moment, an unprecedented bittersweet feeling, like a drop of lemon juice falling into a wound that had not yet healed, instantly overshadowed the fear and embarrassment of surviving the ordeal.

Is this feeling... jealousy?

Akina Nakamori's heart clenched suddenly.

No, how could that be?

She frantically denied herself in her mind.

I've only known Mr. Kitahara for two months... Besides, he's a screenwriter and I'm an actor, so we're at most... good friends.

but……

Looking at the dazzlingly gentle smile on Kitahara Iwa's lips, she always felt as if there was a wad of wet cotton stuck in her chest.

Why did he smile so easily at that girl?

Could it be... that I have feelings for Kitahara-sensei...?

At that moment, a thought that made her blush and her heart race, yet also filled her with panic, suddenly sprouted wildly from the depths of her mind like weeds.

No.

I can't think about it.

As if avoiding a raging flood or a ferocious beast, Nakamori Akina quickly suppressed this dangerous thought.

I'm already covered in wounds, and I haven't even finished dealing with my own problems. How could I possibly be qualified to touch something like that?

Thinking of this, Akina Nakamori took a deep breath, trying to suppress her surging emotions.

But the body is often more honest than the mind. Instead of backing down, she couldn't help but take a half step forward, bringing herself closer to the man holding the phone.

Then, in a tone that was thick with nasal resonance, sounded somewhat resentful, yet she tried hard to appear indifferent, she asked softly, "...Teacher, who is it?"

Akina Nakamori's voice, though not loud, was exceptionally clear in the corridor late at night.

Kitahara Iwa felt a chill run down his spine and his scalp tingle instantly.

The smile froze on his face instantly.

Sachiko Kamachi on the other end of the phone clearly hadn't heard clearly and was still enthusiastically continuing, "Um... we promised to treat you back! Can we meet up in a few days? I'd like to treat you to barbecue! I got paid this time, so I can treat you to some really good thick-cut beef tongue!"

The next second, Kitahara Iwa quickly covered the microphone's microphone hole, then turned to look at Akina.

Their eyes met in mid-air.

Akina Nakamori leaned against the wall, her eyes wet like a drenched puppy, but her gaze, fixed intently on Iwao Kitahara, clearly said, "Aren't you going to explain yourself?"

Kitahara Iwa's lips twitched slightly. He gestured with his eyes for her to stop fooling around, then released her hand and resumed his gentle and composed voice into the phone, though his speech was noticeably faster: "Ah, I'm listening. Sachiko, congratulations. You've taken a very steady step."

Kitahara Iwa paused, ignoring the increasingly resentful look in his eyes, and continued, "As for the barbecue... okay. We'll contact you about the specific time later..."

"Okay! I won't disturb the teacher's rest any longer! Good night!"

beep.

The phone hangs up.

Kitahara Iwa breathed a sigh of relief and quickly stuffed the cell phone back into his pocket.

But when he looked up again, he met Akina Nakamori's eyes, which seemed to see right through his soul.

The somber atmosphere had been completely washed away, replaced by a subtle, slightly sour feeling.

Akina Nakamori stood with her hands behind her back, leaning slightly forward, staring into Iwao Kitahara's eyes. Her voice still trembled with a sob, and she asked with a hint of inexplicable accusation, "...Karaoke Queen?"

Then she sniffed, as if interrogating a criminal, and said, "You want to eat really good thick-cut beef tongue? Kitahara-sensei, do you have any other students outside...?"