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Chapter 49: When Shamelessness Reigns Supreme
Kondo Airi was relentless, trailing Chihara Rinto all the way from the train station to Meguro Ward's Kitahashi District. It seemed she had decided he wasn’t actually busy but merely brushing her off with empty excuses. Determined to get what she wanted, she planned to follow him straight to his apartment and wear him down.
Chihara, for his part, was at a loss. The phrase “when shamelessness reigns supreme” suddenly felt tailor-made for this situation. What could you do against someone like her? You couldn’t hit her—that would only make things worse. Scolding her didn’t work; she simply didn’t care. And glaring at her? That wouldn’t stop her either. He was out of options.
He didn’t want to bring her back to his place, nor did he have any friends nearby who could step in as reinforcements. Just as he was racking his brain for a solution, he spotted familiar faces inside a convenience store—the three high school girls he’d met at the restaurant last time were sitting by the window, sipping on bubble tea.
His steps faltered, and turning to Kondo Airi, he said coolly, “The friend I’m meeting is already here. Please don’t follow me and disturb us.”
“Your friend?” Kondo Airi scanned the area, her eyes skimming over Futazeno Seiko and the others without giving them a second glance. Suspicious, she asked, “Where?”
Chihara pointed toward Yamagami Aiko and her companions. “Them.”
“Them… Aren’t they still students?” Kondo Airi frowned, clearly unconvinced. “What business do you have with them?”
“What I discuss with them is none of your concern, Kondo-san,” Chihara replied, his patience wearing thin. His voice softened but carried an edge. “Please stop following me. It’s incredibly rude.”
With that, he turned and headed toward the convenience store. Kondo Airi hesitated, unsure whether to believe him or not. They certainly seemed to know each other, which left her uncertain about what to do next. If Chihara went home, she could continue pestering him there—alone together, it might be easier to negotiate, and there would be fewer witnesses to judge her tactics. But if he really was meeting friends, barging in now would accomplish nothing except angering him further and possibly ruining whatever plans he had.
Her goal here was to beg for help, and while being persistent was one thing, provoking outright rage was another. As she watched him walk away, panic set in. She quickly grabbed his arm, her voice trembling with desperation. “Rinto, wait! I really need to ask you something.”
Her grip was surprisingly strong, nearly tearing the sleeve of his shirt. Chihara sighed inwardly, exasperated. He’d hoped to resolve this quietly, avoiding unnecessary drama, but her sheer audacity made that impossible. No amount of reasoning seemed to deter her. Finally, he spoke firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Kondo-san, haven’t you realized yet? Whatever it is, I don’t want to help you. You’re an adult—do I really need to spell it out for you? Enough is enough.”
“Why?” Tears welled up in Kondo Airi’s eyes, her voice tinged with frustration. “Are you still mad about the past? Think about my situation! You know how hard it is for me. My family barely supports me—we’re poor, and I’m on my own in Tokyo. It’s so difficult… I just need someone to lean on. Please, forgive me for what happened before and help me one more time. Just say yes!”
She didn’t specify what she needed, intending to secure a vague promise first, just as she always had. For a moment, Chihara fell silent, reflecting on her approach. There was no denying that Kondo Airi knew how to play the role of a vulnerable woman. Her ability to lower herself, to speak softly and sweetly, appealed to many men’s egos. Combined with her striking beauty and delicate demeanor, it was easy to see why she often succeeded in finding partners willing to support her lifestyle. She had a knack for identifying promising men and leveraging their resources to improve her life.
But why should that matter to him?
If she truly sought refuge and comfort, fine—she could look elsewhere. Everyone had the right to choose their path, and he understood that. But her struggles didn’t obligate him to become her savior. Should he help her simply because she claimed hardship?
No. He believed in helping those who had shown kindness, ensuring good deeds were rewarded.
No. He believed in repaying debts, seeking peace of conscience.
No. He believed in supporting those who worked hard and strove for self-improvement, fostering mutual trust and cooperation.
He prided himself on being decent—not saintly. Helping those in need was noble, but the tale of the farmer and the snake served as a timeless reminder: compassion must come with discernment.
Deep down, he harbored no desire to assist someone like Kondo Airi—a “material girl,” as he saw her. To him, she was little better than a snake. Such people lacked principles; once you helped them, they’d return endlessly, demanding more. Eventually, gratitude could turn into resentment, leaving you worse off than before.
Even if aiding her brought some benefit, he refused. He’d bet anything that if he agreed to help, even under compromising terms, she’d eagerly comply without hesitation. Yet he didn’t want that. He disliked everything about her—her values clashed with his own, her methods offended his sense of integrity. He had someone he cared for deeply, someone aligned with his goals for love and marriage. Even if achieving those dreams seemed impossible now, he wouldn’t settle for someone like her.
This kind of woman thrived in prosperity but crumbled under adversity. She was far from ideal, no matter how attractive her appearance. To him, she held less value than a scrap of paper. Let others criticize him as cold-hearted—it didn’t change his stance.
He decided to end this charade. His expression hardened as he pried her fingers off his arm, ignoring the potential consequences. “If you need support, find someone else—not me. Don’t bother explaining your problems. Nothing will sway me. Your difficulties aren’t my responsibility.”
Kondo Airi froze, stunned by his words. She realized then that the man standing before her bore little resemblance to the person she’d known before. After a few seconds of shock, she noticed he was walking away again. Desperate, she chased after him, tears streaming down her face. “Rinto, please! I have no one else to turn to… Ishii canceled my role, even though it wasn’t my fault! I tried my best, and both the director and screenwriter defended me, urging him to keep going. But he insisted on rewriting the script, fought with the director, and immediately cut my scenes. Now he refuses to give me new roles. What happens to the two years I’ve spent working toward this? Those were the prime years of my career!”
“And he’s changed too,” she sobbed, pulling down her collar to reveal bruises marring her skin. “He hits me now, tortures me at night. He’s always been selfish, but this… This is unbearable. I could’ve been a radio host—it was his idea for me to act, promising fame. Now he blames me! I had nowhere else to go but to you.”
Her words tumbled out incoherently, driven by emotion. “Help me, please! Even if it’s just for old times’ sake. Your show is popular, and as the creator, you can design a short drama tailored to me—one that’ll showcase my talent. Prove to everyone that I can act, that it wasn’t my fault. No one hires me anymore… My career is falling apart!”
“Why won’t you speak?” She cried harder, mascara smudging across her cheeks. “Is it really impossible? Wait—what if we reconcile? Yes, let’s start over! It was my mistake back then, but I’ll change. We can fix things. I will break up with Ishii, and we’ll be together again. I’ll treat you the same way I used to—I’ll take care of you, anything you want.”
Her pleas grew frantic as Chihara quickened his pace. Heartbroken and furious, she shouted, “We shared feelings once! Have you forgotten everything? Say something!”
Finally, Chihara stopped, turning to face her with icy indifference. “Kondo-san, you misunderstand. Those weren’t feelings—it was a transaction, plain and simple. Money exchanged hands, goods delivered. You got luxury items, I got a girlfriend. Neither owed the other anything. Don’t confuse it with genuine emotion.”
His patience evaporated entirely. “If you’re being abused, call the police—not me. If your acting career falters, pivot or hone your skills. Earn respect through talent. If Murakami or Fujii offer you auditions, rest assured I won’t interfere. But crafting a drama specifically for you? Forget it. I have my own plans. Why should I alter them for you?”
Tailoring a project for someone required justification—what did she have to offer besides entitlement?
Who would jeopardize their career to aid someone unreliable?
“You…” Kondo Airi stammered, finally grasping that Chihara meant every word. Her usual manipulations no longer worked. After a pause, she whispered brokenly, “Why are you being so cruel? It’s not difficult for you. I checked—you hold influence in the production team. Just talk to the producer…”
Chihara cut her off sharply. “Are you trying to guilt-trip me again? Because it’s easy for me doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”
“I-I didn’t mean that.”
“Then what did you mean?”
Kondo Airi fell silent, unable to respond. While she appealed to sentimentality, Chihara remained grounded in logic—they weren’t speaking the same language.
After a brief pause, he added softly, “Kondo-san, we’re no longer connected. Accept that. Leave with dignity intact. Hate me if you must, seek revenge later—it’s your choice. But I’m meeting friends, so please stop bothering me. Show some self-respect.”
It was his final warning. Without waiting for a response, he turned and entered the convenience store.
He’d said all he needed to say. With no grudges between them and no conflicting interests, he’d done his best to handle the situation maturely. If she persisted, however, he wouldn’t hesitate to defend himself. Though he may not have immediate solutions, he was confident in his future influence within the industry—and if necessary, he’d ensure she faced consequences proportionate to her behavior.
What rotten luck, encountering such a troublesome individual!
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