Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 21 Escaping Tokyo

1989 4 Month 15 Day.

The cherry blossom season in Tokyo is coming to an end. The roadside drains are piled with pink and white petals, which have turned grayish from being soaked in rainwater, looking like a layer of mud.

Thanks to his performance in "Kasuga no Tsubone", Kitahara Shin's salary finally rose to 10 yen per episode.

While it can't compare to that of top-tier celebrities, it's more than enough to rent a decent apartment and buy some respectable appliances in Nakano Ward.

It's 11 p.m.

Kitahara Shin is testing his newly purchased Pioneer audio system.

The equipment, costing 200,000 yen, played Koji Tamaki's vinyl records, his deep voice flowing through the quiet rainy night.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down on the sofa.

I recently finished filming my scenes for a Taiga drama, and I'm still negotiating new projects, so this is a rare lull in my schedule.

"Beep beep beep—"

The pager on the table suddenly went off.

In the dead of night, the monotonous electronic sounds seemed particularly jarring.

Kitahara Shin put down his wine glass and picked up his pager.

It was still that familiar, nameless public phone number.

This is not the first time.

Ever since she gave him the silver Zippo she had left on the vending machine backstage, the two have maintained this strange connection.

For her, who was treated as a cash cow by her family and as a commodity by her agency, Kitahara Shin, an "outsider" who neither wanted her fame nor wallowed in this quagmire, became her only outlet.

But the timing tonight is a bit off.

Kitahara Shin glanced at the calendar.

In recent weeks, Weekly Bunshun and Focus have been relentlessly attacking Kanai. Photos of Kanai secretly meeting with a certain pop diva in New York have been circulating widely.

As Akina's "official girlfriend," she should be surrounded by media cameras at her doorstep right now, not even daring to open the curtains.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number.

"...feed."

Akina Nakamori's voice came through the receiver.

It was very light, with the sound of whistling wind in the background, as if you were standing at a high place.

"It's me." Kitahara Shin turned off the stereo. "It's so late, aren't you resting yet?"

"Kitahara-kun."

Akina didn't answer his question. "Tokyo is so noisy."

"Um?"

"It's already late at night, why is it still so noisy? The reporters' flashes keep going off, and the TV keeps talking about that woman's name... It's giving me a headache."

She paused for a moment, then continued:

"I was standing on the balcony looking down just now, and I was thinking... if this place became quiet, if I became something as quiet as that, would I not have to hear all this?"

Kitahara Shin tightened his grip on the receiver.

This translates to: I want to jump.

As an actor, he has a keen sense of emotion.

If she is crying, it means she is still venting and there is still hope.

But this utter stillness is the sign of complete collapse.

The ridicule from the public, the betrayal of her boyfriend, and the cold treatment from her agency have pushed this girl, who is not yet twenty-five years old, to the brink of despair.

We can't talk nonsense.

Now, any phrase like "Don't overthink it" or "Go to bed early" could become the last straw that breaks the camel's back.

I know a place.

Kitahara Shin's voice was steady and powerful, instantly cutting off the deathly atmosphere on the other end of the phone. "In Kujukuri Beach in Chiba Prefecture, there is a stretch of undeveloped beach. There are no tourists, no reporters, only seagulls and the sound of waves."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Really?" Akina's voice had a very faint fluctuation.

"real."

Kitahara Shin glanced at the night outside the window and said without hesitation, "Where are you? I'll come pick you up now."

"I'm on...the rooftop of my building. I'm too scared to go down; there are reporters all over the place below."

"Find an empty back door or fire escape. I'll be waiting for you at a convenience store two blocks away in forty minutes."

hang up the phone.

Kitahara Shin did not hesitate at all.

He grabbed his dark gray trench coat and took out a business card from the drawer—it was the phone number of a car rental company owner he knew before.

Ten minutes later.

Kitahara Shin knocked on the door of the car rental shop owner and rented an inconspicuous Toyota Crown for double the price.

Traffic was sparse on the elevated highways in Tokyo late at night.

Kitahara Shin gripped the steering wheel, his eyes sharp.

He is not some kind of pushover.

But in the cutthroat world of entertainment, he couldn't bear to watch such a talented person be driven to his death.

Since that Zippo made him owe someone a favor, he'll repay it tonight.

Forty minutes later.

In front of a secluded convenience store in Meguro Ward.

The figure, dressed in a thin trench coat, wearing a hat and mask, stood alone in the shadows.

She held a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold in her hands, her body trembling slightly.

She looks even thinner than she did two months ago, as if a gust of wind could blow her over.

The car stopped in front of her.

Kitahara Shin pushed open the passenger door.

"Get in the car."

Akina looked up and stared at him blankly.

That's the look in the eyes of a drowning person when they see driftwood.

She quietly sat down inside.

"Fasten your seatbelt."

Kitahara Shin didn't ask her anything about the news, nor did he offer any words of comfort.

He simply turned on the car's heater, raised the temperature by two degrees, and then stepped on the gas, driving the car into the vast darkness of the night.

Target: East.

That's the direction of the sea, and also the direction away from Tokyo, that huge source of noise.