Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 54 The Rock Girl Who Doesn't Want to Rock

"Stop! Stop everything!"

Daiki Nagato slammed the sheet music in his hand onto the mixing console, the loud noise making the recording engineer next to him shrink back.

"Sakai! Power! I need power! An explosive force that will rip the hearts out of the audience! What's with this buzzing sound?"

Inside the recording studio behind the soundproof glass, Izumi Sakai gripped the microphone stand tightly.

She was wearing an ill-fitting black leather jacket—a stylist forced on her to fit the persona of a "rock band lead singer."

The rivets on the leather jacket were digging painfully into her neck, and the strong smell of industrial leather made her nose feel a little uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry... President Nagato, I'll try again."

Her voice was trembling.

"Trying a hundred times won't help!"

Daikichi Nagato took off his sunglasses, scratched his hair in frustration, and said, "We're building ZARD, a band like Blizzard, a storm! Look at yourself now! You look like a schoolboy kept after school! You have absolutely no feeling for it! Show me the spirit you had when you came to audition, I need that spirit!"

He pressed the call button, his tone cold and hard: "Take a ten-minute break. If you still can't find your rhythm, don't record today. Go back to being a model."

A static noise, as if the power had been cut off, came through the headphones.

Quanshui lowered her head, and tears she had been holding back for so long finally welled up in her eyes.

She didn't argue. She put down her headphones, pushed open the heavy soundproof door, and rushed out of the control room with her head down.

……

The air in the stairwell of the fire escape was cold and stuffy.

The place was piled with discarded cardboard boxes and broken microphone stands, with only a faulty motion sensor light flickering on and off.

As Kitahara Shin pushed open the fire door carrying a bag of freshly bought hot coffee, he saw the girl in the leather jacket squatting in the corner, her face buried in her knees, her shoulders shrugging.

He didn't say anything, gently closed the door, shutting out the noise from the outside corridor.

The sound of leather shoes stepping on the cement floor startled the girl, causing her to look up.

Upon seeing that it was Kitahara Shin, she frantically wiped her face with the back of her hand, trying to dry her tears, but this only made the mascara smudge more, turning her clean face into a mess.

"Mr. Kitahara..."

She tried to stand up, but her legs went numb from squatting for too long, and she stumbled.

Kitahara Shin reached out and supported her arm, pressing her back down the steps.

"Please sit down."

He sat down on the steps next to them and placed the bag of hot coffee between them. "Nagato has a bit of a temper, but don't take it to heart."

"It's my problem."

Quanshui hugged her knees, her voice muffled, "I don't understand what rock and roll is at all. They made me wear leather jackets, made me sing with my eyes wide open, made me act like a...bad girl, but I can't do it, that's not me."

She looked at her studded leather jacket, her eyes filled with self-doubt.

"Maybe I'm just meant to go back to being a model."

Kitahara Shin took out a can of coffee, unzipped it, and handed it to her.

"Rock and roll isn't about wearing leather jackets or glaring around; it's not just about superficial things."

His consciousness swept across the system bar in the corner of his retina.

The old pink icon was silently dragged into the equipment slot.

[Equipment: The Love Diary of a Faded Idol (Activated)]

[Special Effect: Unspoken Confession (Activated)]

The hard shell that usually carried a sense of calm and aloofness melted away, revealing a softness and fragility like that of someone soaked in rain, emanating from between his brows.

He looked down at the coffee can in his hand, his fingers gently stroking the inside of the can.

Let me tell you a story.

His voice was very soft, as if he were telling a story from the past that had been buried for a long time.

"There was a girl who loved someone very much. But she never dared to say it; she would only hide in the corner of the stage and watch that person shine."

"Later, that person left and went to a better place. The girl probably would never see him again in her life. It rained heavily on the day he left. She stood behind the curtain and watched the car drive away until she could no longer see its taillights."

Holding her coffee, Quanshui was unknowingly drawn in by his voice.

She turned her head and looked at Kitahara Shin's profile.

In the dim light of the motion sensor lamp, Kitahara Shin's eyelashes drooped, and his eyes held a deep, unfathomable regret.

—I want to touch you, but I have to pull my hand back.

"Does she regret it?" Quanshui asked instinctively.

"regret?"

Kitahara Shin raised his head and looked at the spring.

That one glance made the spring's heart clench.

Gentle, patient, yet harboring a deep desire to break free from all obstacles.

It's like a fire frozen at the bottom of the sea.

She regretted it, but she didn't cry.

Kitahara Shin pointed to his chest, "She locked all her regrets and resentment here, and then she thought, since that person can't hear it anymore, then I'll sing it out, even if it's just to say goodbye to this loneliness."

"Saying goodbye to...loneliness?"

The spring water murmured to itself.

"Yes, that's what rock and roll is all about—it's about conveying your inner emotions and your vitality."

Kitahara Shin looked at her, and although he did nothing, it was as if he was gently touching the girl's sensitive nerves. "It is the impulse to run after seeing all the unpleasantness. It is the recklessness. It is the courage to shout out what is in your heart even if you are wearing an ill-fitting leather jacket."

Goodbye...

A flash of inspiration suddenly struck Quanshui's mind.

The demo melody that Daiko Nagato gave her originally sounded like just noisy din to her.

But at this moment, looking into Kitahara Shin's eyes, which seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words, the melody suddenly came to life.

It was no longer an angry roar, but a resolute farewell.

"Good-bye my loneliness......"

She hummed a line softly.

"That's right."

Kitahara Shin looked at her encouragingly, "Forget about leather jackets and forget about what kind of 'bad girl' Nagato wants. Just look at me and sing what you want to say to me."

The spring water suddenly poured down the coffee.

She rummaged through her clothes but couldn't find any paper, so she simply grabbed the brown paper bag that had contained coffee, took out a ballpoint pen from her pocket, and started writing rapidly while lying on her knees.

Inspiration flows like a flood.

All the suppressed grievances, confusion, and the heartbreaking regret in Kitahara Shin's eyes were transformed into words.

"The same loneliness is in your eyes."

"Goodbye My Loneliness, I once believed it was love."

"But in that embrace, I knew it was a dream."

The pen tip grazed the rough paper bag, making a rustling sound.

Five minutes later.

Quanshui stopped writing and let out a long sigh.

Looking at the scribbled words on the paper bag, it felt as if the boulder that had been weighing on her chest had been lifted.

"Is it finished?" Kitahara Shin asked.

"Um."

Spring looked up, her eyes shining brightly. She grabbed the paper bag, stood up, and forcefully wiped away the remaining tear stains on her face.

"Mr. Kitahara, thank you."

She bowed deeply, then turned and pushed open the fire door, running towards the recording studio without looking back.

Kitahara Shin sat on the steps, looking at the swaying door, and deactivated his equipment.

He rubbed his slightly sore eyes, picked up the coffee on the ground, and took a sip.

"It's so good to be young."

They run with a gust of wind.

A few minutes later.

Through the heavy fire door, the faint sounds of instruments resounding from the recording studio could be heard.

Immediately following was a female voice that was still extremely penetrating, even through walls and iron gates.

"Good-bye my loneliness......"

There was no longer that bluffing, imitating someone else, nor the trembling self-doubt.

Izumi Sakai displayed her own unique, clear, and resolute cry.

Kitahara Shin leaned against the cold wall and listened for a while, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He tossed the now-cold coffee can into the trash can with a crisp "clatter".

He then straightened the slightly wrinkled hem of his trench coat, pushed open the door to the stairwell, and strode out.

Outside the door lies the bustling streets of Roppongi.

Countless neon lights flickered in the night, dyeing the sky above the city an ambiguous purplish-red.

Kitahara Shin squinted, facing the blinding light, and blended into the bustling crowd.

Hidden strength and name.