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Chapter 65: This Time, It Must Be the Headhunters, Right?
Chihara Rinto had helped Konoe Hitomi twice, but those were minor favors—not acts of great kindness. Her earnest declaration of “I belong to you” left him utterly baffled, nearly sweating through his pants in shock.
Waving his hands frantically, he stammered, “Don’t say such things! What do you mean by ‘I belong to you’? At most, we’re friends—nothing more!”
His mind raced, suspecting she might harbor a secret crush on him—a sudden confession, perhaps. It made sense. A young girl from a fishing village, navigating Tokyo’s sprawling metropolis alone, inexperienced and often scorned, would naturally feel gratitude toward someone who’d helped her. Over time, gratitude could blossom into admiration, even affection. Add to that his gentle demeanor, approachable smile, and perceived talent, and it wasn’t far-fetched for her to develop feelings.
Still, Chihara harbored no romantic interest in this ponytailed, round-faced ama diver. She wasn’t his type. To nip any misunderstanding in the bud, he added tactfully, “I already have someone… Sorry about that.”
Let’s keep things platonic, please!
Hitomi blinked, slowly processing his words. Surprised, she asked, “Why are you apologizing, Chihara-sensei? Did you misunderstand? I meant I’m on your side—I’ll always support you! Did you think I was confessing? That’s impossible; you’re like an elder to me!”
Chihara stared at her, half-tempted to smack her forehead. You fool, finish your sentences next time! And since when did you become “one of my people”? When did I become the leader of a faction? Why wasn’t I informed?!
Speechless, he found himself at a loss. Sensing gossip potential, Hitomi leaned forward curiously. “Chihara-sensei, you said you have someone in mind—is it Murakami-san?”
“No,” Chihara denied immediately.
“Really?” Hitomi tilted her head, visibly disappointed. “I was ready to bless you two! People were saying you quit because of your feelings for Murakami-san—it sounded like an eight o’clock drama plot twist. I was so moved, I dropped my tools and quit on the spot!”
Finally, they returned to the main topic. Ignoring her earlier ramblings, Chihara quickly interjected, “You didn’t need to resign. Can you still undo it?”
Hitomi held firm to her principles. “I don’t want to work for TEB anymore. They’re not good people.”
Sighing, Chihara didn’t press further. He figured her kind—rare gems of sincerity—were probably only found in rural villages these days. Instead, he asked, “What are your plans? How will you support yourself?”
Having lived in Tokyo for over four months, Hitomi was no longer the clueless newcomer she once was. Without hesitation, she replied, “I’ve thought it through. I’ll continue pursuing my dream of becoming an actress. As for living expenses, don’t worry—I can return to working at the fish stall temporarily. I’ll also look into whether other networks need extras.”
Chihara nodded approvingly. After a moment, he suggested, “Leave me your contact information. I’ll see if I can help find you a suitable job later.”
Actions spoke louder than intentions. Though her resignation seemed impulsive, her unwavering support touched him. He felt obligated to repay her loyalty—not out of obligation but because her boldness deserved acknowledgment. Whether genuine or opportunistic, her gesture earned her a share of whatever rewards came his way.
Without hesitation, Hitomi borrowed pen and paper, jotting down her details. Smiling brightly, she said, “Thank you so much, Chihara-sensei. I hope to work with you again someday.”
Chihara smiled back. “There will be opportunities.”
“Good. Seeing you’re fine puts my mind at ease.” Handing over her contact info, Hitomi felt her mission accomplished. Bowing deeply, she added, “Chihara-sensei must be busy, so I won’t take up more of your time. I’ll take my leave…”
Before she finished, rhythmic knocking interrupted. The visitor exuded refinement—unlike Hitomi’s clumsy enthusiasm. Chihara perked up instantly. Finally, the headhunters arrived sooner than expected. Unfortunately, while he’d mapped out target networks, he hadn’t yet prepared corresponding pitches. Improvisation would be key.
As he rose to answer, Hitomi intercepted. “Let me get it, Chihara-sensei!” She hurried to open the door while Chihara composed himself, mentally rehearsing responses.
Soon, accompanied by Hitomi’s greeting, Michiko stepped inside. The studio apartment offered a clear view of the entrance. After politely thanking Hitomi, Michiko removed her shoes and entered the “living room,” bowing respectfully. “Master, hello!”
Chihara sighed inwardly, feeling another wasted effort. Smiling wryly, he asked, “What brings you here?”
Michiko subtly scanned the cramped four-tatami-mat space, momentarily surprised by its shabby condition. Quickly dismissing it, she knelt before him, replying deferentially, “You’re in trouble, Master. As your disciple, I had to come see you.”
“Does your mother know?” Chihara asked, puzzled. Nambu Ryoko struck him as highly pragmatic. Given his recent clash with production bureau higher-ups, he assumed she’d distance herself rather than approach him.
“Yes,” Michiko grinned sheepishly. “She pretended not to know at first, but I convinced her. Still, she’s cautious, so only I came privately. She’s maintaining plausible deniability.”
“How did you convince her?” Chihara asked, genuinely curious.
Michiko bit her lip, blushing slightly. “Well… I told her you may seem easygoing on the surface, but you’re actually quite petty and hold grudges. Since you’re currently in a tough spot, if I distanced myself now, and you later became influential in the industry, you’d surely retaliate against me.”
After blurting this out, she bowed apologetically. “Sorry, Master. But I really wanted to visit, so I scared her a little. Please don’t be upset.”
Chihara groaned internally at being labeled vindictive. After a pause, he waved dismissively, chuckling. “It’s fine. Consider it… well-intentioned. Though you didn’t need to come all this way—I’m alright.”
He suddenly felt gratified. Despite leaving TEB, a few people still stood by him. Concerned, Michiko asked, “Master, what happened? Why did you quit so suddenly?”
Chihara recounted the events briefly. Michiko listened intently, frowning deeply. Finally, she remarked, “So it’s true. Master, you were too rash.”
Surprised, Chihara asked, “What do you mean? Have you heard rumors?”
“My mother heard from sources that TEB is unhappy with you. They think you’re overstepping as a screenwriter by interfering in internal personnel adjustments, raising suspicions of insubordination. Your reputation has taken a hit.”
Chihara laughed. “Ah, that. Don’t worry about it. They’ll only dare whisper complaints behind closed doors. Snatching newly successful shows reeks of foul play within the industry. Publicizing such behavior would discourage newcomers from striving, fearing their efforts would be usurped.”
“But it’s unrelated to you—it’s internal power struggles. By stepping in…”
Chihara wasn’t naive. If Michiko considered these angles, so had he. Smiling confidently, he explained, “A lead writer standing shoulder-to-shoulder with their producer—who wouldn’t appreciate that? Any rational producer would back me. As for irrational ones, their disapproval means nothing. Regarding other executives, I oppose only unjust program seizures. If they refrain from such folly, why fear repercussions?”
Pausing, his gaze hardened slightly. Softly, he added, “This serves as a warning to some. Once Season Two airs, they’ll understand—I can deliver hits, boost ratings, and earn respect. Decisions affecting the crew require prior consultation, not arbitrary manipulation. Otherwise, chaos ensues.”
This darker side of his ambition surfaced rarely—only before trusted disciples. He didn’t plan to work forever; certain battles were worth fighting. Respect wasn’t bestowed freely—it had to be claimed.
Michiko pondered, finding merit in his reasoning. Negative impacts were inevitable but limited. Sighing, she said, “Alright, Master. Just ensure you’re aware. Regarding afternoon lessons, though…”
Chihara noticed the shadow crossing her face. Exasperated, he assured her, “Don’t worry. Once I secure a new job, I’ll buy another computer. I aim to catch the spring season, so it won’t delay your progress.”
Eyes lighting up, Michiko gasped, “Really?!” Realizing her slip, she covered her mouth, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was worried I might not be able to visit you in the future because of this incident… unrelated to Dragon’s Treasure…”
Trailing off, she lowered her head, whispering, “Sorry, Master.”
Chihara rolled up a notebook and lightly tapped her head three times. “Enough pretending!”
This disciple’s visit stemmed partly from genuine concern—but mostly from worry over losing access to the computer. Poor mentor indeed, overshadowed by a machine in her eyes.
Still, he understood. At twelve, abruptly losing access to a beloved game would frustrate anyone. Michiko’s restraint showed maturity. Steering clear of sensitive topics, she turned to the quietly seated Hitomi. “Master, may I ask who this is?”
Truthfully, opening the door to find a young woman startled her. Could this be her future “master’s wife”? She vaguely recalled seeing Hitomi before but dismissed her as background noise.
Chihara introduced them. “This is Konoe Hitomi, aspiring actress. Hitomi, this is my disciple, Fukazawa Michiko—you might recognize her.”
Hitomi bowed deeply, polite and deferential. “Yes, Fukazawa-senpai, I’ve seen your performances—they’re excellent. Please guide me in the future.”
Admiring professional actors, Hitomi aimed high, humbling herself accordingly.
Michiko reciprocated respectfully. “Hitomi-neesan, please call me Michiko. I look forward to learning from you.”
Watching their formalities, Chihara chuckled. “Relax. Age and experience balance each other out. Speak casually—no need for excessive politeness.”
As his words settled, another knock echoed, followed by the apartment manager’s voice. “Chihara-san, there’s a call for you!”
Chihara perked up again. With everyone accounted for, surely this time it was the headhunters?
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