#60: Yokohama / ep.1
Kitasenju, a major terminal station in northern Tokyo.
Using a commuter pass she would never have occasion to use again, Rinko passed through the automatic ticket gates of the underground station and emerged into the open air.
Her retirement at the end of April, like Mikoto’s and the other employees’, had been settled without a hitch. Today was her final day reporting to work before she began using up her remaining paid leave. All that remained was to show her face at the end of April, ask about health insurance, unemployment benefits, and the rest of the administrative formalities, and then Shirai Rinko of Meiji Stationery would cease to exist.
“Haaah…”
With her shoulders slumped, Rinko trudged through the bus terminal outside the station.
She was depressed. Even with her severance pay and unemployment benefits coming in, there was no telling how long her money would last. Thanks to the escort agency, where she had been earning more than she did at her day job, she had been able to afford a clean flat close to the station. Without an income, though, keeping it would be difficult. Even if she moved somewhere with cheaper rent, she would need money for the move itself.
What Rinko wanted most right now.
A means of securing a regular income, in other words, a job.
“Maybe I should ask the manager…”
It was a terribly self-serving idea. She knew that. Even so, Ayuru Hiroo, the manager, would almost certainly welcome Rinko back with open arms. If the number-one requested girl returned, Ayuru’s shop, Aromatic, would be secure too.
But that was in normal times.
In the current climate, she could not work for a dispatch-style escort agency. Aromatic had voluntarily suspended operations out of consideration for the health of its cast. There were other businesses in the same industry still operating, but Rinko had no intention of working anywhere except Ayuru’s shop.
“If only there were no virus…”
She bit down hard on her lips beneath her mask and glared at the invisible enemy presumably drifting through the air.
That was when a passenger car slid into the parking area and sounded its horn.
“Eek!?”
Rinko, whose senses were unusually sensitive, particularly to sound and smell, froze. Even knowing the horn was not aimed at her, she could not help being frightened.
It was bad for the heart.
The owner of the offending horn appeared to be driving an infuriating red SUV. It was so immaculately polished that it looked brand new, and Rinko wondered what kind of idiot owned it. But the windows were tinted, so she could not see.
“…………”
Somehow swallowing her anger, she decided to pass by quietly.
As she deliberately looked away from the red SUV, its power window rolled down. At last, she had a chance to see the face of the idiot who owned it.
She would give the driver a single glare, perhaps. A small act of revenge.
Rinko made that modest vow, turned her eyes sideways, and met the driver’s gaze.
“Yo, Rinko-chan. Wanna hop in?”
“Wha…!?”
And that was when she realised the idiot in question was none other than her favourite actress, Kurosu Kotone.
＊
“Yeah, I figured if I waited here you’d probably show up. Turned out I was totally right!”
Sitting in the passenger seat beside Kotone, Rinko had no choice but to clutch her head.
The story was as follows.
The moment Rinko realised who owned the car, she had tried to make a swift escape. She refused to make contact. She refused to acknowledge Kotone. But, unbelievably, Kotone had got out of the car.
Without a mask.
Without even a disguise.
She had appeared in full view of the public.
“Do you have any idea that you’re a celebrity? What are you going to do if someone uploads a photo of you appearing in public without a mask during the stay-at-home period? You’ll cause a scandal! Don’t come crying to me when you get flamed!”
“Rinko-chan, are you my manager or something? That’s hilarious.”
“I’m saying it as a fan! Isn’t taking care of your fans part of being a celebrity?”
“I take care of fans who take care of me. But the people who only want to throw me into the fire? I’d rather throw them into it myself.”
“Do not say things like that!”
Kotone whistled as though she could not care less, then swung the steering wheel sharply to the right.
It was the exact opposite direction from Rinko’s home.
“My house isn’t that way!”
“Hm?”
“Where are you taking me!? And what the hell is this car!?”
“I bought it. Four million yen, cash.”
“Four…!?”
Before Rinko could ask another question, she understood. Kotone was telling the truth. The red SUV was brand new. A thin protective film was still stuck to the car-navigation screen, and the interior was saturated with that distinctive new-car smell, the scent of organic compounds contained in adhesives and paint.
“You’re way too extravagant. You only spent a million yen the other day…”
“Yeah, I haven’t had anywhere to spend it, so it just keeps piling up. I could’ve taken out a loan, but there’s something kind of appealing about stacking up bundles of cash and paying the bill with them, right?”
“I can sort of understand the feeling, but…”
“The dealer’s face was priceless!”
Kotone chuckled to herself.
She had presumably wandered into a dealership on a whim and signed the contract on the spot, paying in cash. There was something exhilarating about throwing money around like that, perhaps, but it was in appallingly poor taste.
At the very least, it was a long way removed from the pure, wholesome image of actress Kurosu Kotone.
“…Are you sure you’re okay spending this much money?”
“Totally fine. I make three hundred million yen a year. The taxman takes half, though.”
Rinko’s eyes widened.
Four million, then three hundred million. They were figures she would never encounter in ordinary life. The gulf between them was staggering. She herself earned only around one hundredth of that.
“The numbers are on a completely different scale…”
“It’s only for now. I’m getting paid because I’m young. Eventually my expiry date will come. Living an exemplary life doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll keep getting work.”
“…………”
Celebrities had expiry dates.
Especially when their selling point was the beauty of youth, there was no resisting the passage of time. And in the entertainment industry, young newcomers appeared one after another.
“Rinko-chan… No, Rin-chan, you know what I mean, right?”
Rinko did.
Whenever her friend who worked in male-oriented sex work complained, the refrain was always the same:
“You can’t beat the younger girls.”
Even at Aromatic, where youth was not quite as heavily valued, the younger cast members still received more bookings.
Youth did not last forever.
You could not survive on youth alone.
“…I want to stay like this forever.”
“Right? But that’s impossible, so you’ve just gotta accept it. Ageing, I mean.”
“I’m older than you, though.”
“Oh, right. Should I call you Big Sis Rinko? Or would you prefer me to use polite speech? Hee hee.”
“If you do that impression again, I’m seriously going to get angry.”
“Then what should I call you?”
“Don’t call me anything! Don’t acknowledge me, don’t be conscious of me! Total refusal!”
“Ahaha, I like that. I should steal it.”
With Kotone cackling behind the wheel, the car entered the Shuto Expressway and began heading south towards Yokohama.
The route was almost identical to the one Ayuru had taken when she had abducted Rinko before.
Once they were on the motorway, there was no way Rinko could jump out of the passenger seat and escape. Thoroughly exasperated, she sighed.
Kotone chuckled and pressed down on the accelerator.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in time for work tomorrow.”
“…Whatever. I don’t care anymore. I don’t have a job.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You quit?”
Kotone sounded as though she genuinely knew nothing.
Had her sister not told her anything? Rinko slid lower into the passenger seat.
“Fired. Me and your sister.”
“Huh? Sis didn’t say a word.”
“I don’t know anything about the relationship between the Kurosu sisters…”
“Well, she probably didn’t want to worry her little sister. And she’s got Shan-Sis too.”
That was true.
Mikoto already had a fiancée, Charlotte Gabriel. A woman with enough money saved up that she was prepared to support Mikoto and had even offered to come up with enough cash to tide Rinko over for the time being.
Not as much money as Kotone, perhaps.
But Rinko’s anxiety was not solely about money.
“If only I had someone too…”
It was not something she said to Kotone. The words simply slipped out as an honest murmur.
At once, silence descended over the car.
The only sound was the faint hum of the SUV travelling along the Shuto Expressway.
After a little while, Kotone spoke quietly.
“…Rinko-chan, am I not enough?”
There was something painfully wistful in Kotone’s voice, and it drew Rinko’s gaze.
Kotone was looking straight ahead. Her profile was as beautiful as ever, enough to make Rinko stare.
But it was not romantic attraction.
It was admiration for her favourite.
“I love you as my favourite. That’s all.”
“Is it because I invited you to that Game before, after telling you to keep stanning me for the rest of your life?”
It was the night in Yokohama when Rinko had been bought out for one million yen.
That night, Kotone had proposed a Game.
No matter what I say or do, don’t fall in love with me. Keep stanning me for the rest of your life.
Rinko thought it was a ridiculous Game.
She disliked the whole Game framework, which was clearly inherited from Charlotte in the first place. And even without being told not to, Kotone was not someone Rinko would ever fall in love with.
“It has nothing to do with that. I’m not going to fall for you.”
“I like you, though, Rinko-chan.”
“As a fan, right? And I don’t want any other kind of liking from you.”
“…You really don’t look at me at all, do you?”
“I look at you every day. Your shows, your Instagram. I even listen to your lunchtime radio programme on catch-up.”
“That’s me as a public persona, not me as myself.”
“Can you please stop saying incomprehensible things? I hate conversations where someone keeps trying to sound me out!”
Kotone clicked her tongue conspicuously.
That irritated Rinko.
Her appearance was a perfect match for the Kotone she idolised. So why did she keep doing things that shattered Rinko’s dreams?
What did Kotone get out of destroying the faint fantasies a fan had built around her?
“…Get off the motorway and drop me somewhere. I’m going home.”
“Nope.”
“No!”
“Also nope.”
“Also no!”
“Ah, forget it. If you really want to get out, play a Game with me and win.”
Kotone’s gaze pierced Rinko with an unusual seriousness, infused with the intimidating force she used for work.
The public image of Kurosu Kotone was that of an actress who maintained an immaculate, refined persona in ordinary life yet could become any character at all once she entered a performance.
But the public had it terribly wrong.
Everything about Kurosu Kotone was an act.
A vivid scarlet fiction that existed only through a camera lens or beyond the seats of an audience.
Only a handful of people knew the woman she really was.
“So I told you, I hate Games…”
“Kurosu Kotone Quiz. State Kurosu Kotone’s date of birth.”
“What kind of quiz is that…?”
“If you really love me as a fan, you should be able to answer, right? Prove your Kotone love, Rinko-chan.”
Kotone tested her fan’s love with a perfectly straight face.
She was doing exactly the same thing Charlotte did, and Rinko’s anger boiled past its limit.
Fine.
If Kotone wanted a challenge that badly, Rinko would accept it and crush her.
She drew herself up, snorting with determination.
“If I get everything right, you’ll let me out?”
“If you get them right, yeah. I’ll give you one hint.”
“…Fine.”
She did not need a hint for a quiz this easy.
Rinko drew breath and rattled off the answers at speed.
“Born 7 October 1996.”
“Blood type?”
“B.”
“Place of birth?”
“Yokohama.”
“Family?”
“Parents and one older sister. Want me to give you your sister’s information too?”
“Forget my sister.”
“All correct. Now let me out.”
“Can’t stop yet. Next question. Deden!”
She supplied her own quiz-show sound effect and smiled smugly.
She was probably planning to keep asking questions until Rinko finally got one wrong.
In that case, Rinko was determined to answer every last one correctly.
“Favourite film?”
“Whiplash.”
“Favourite jazz?”
“Trick question. You watch jazz films, but you don’t listen to jazz.”
“Favourite baseball team?”
“Another trick question. Despite being born in Yokohama, it’s Hiroshima.”
“Favourite cocktail?”
“Shirley Temple. You talked about it on the radio. And I don’t want to talk about cocktails.”
“Favourite thing?”
“Outdoor activities. Especially campfires.”
“Favourite colour?”
“Red.”
“Favourite person?”
“Scandals are off-limits.”
“Aw, too bad. Want to use your hint?”
“Do whatever you want.”
“The hint is, the person sitting next to you right now.”
“No!”
“Too bad. I win. Welcome to the venue for your penalty game!”
“Oh, for crying out loud… This is why I hate Games…”
Rinko turned her eyes away from Kotone’s grating laughter and looked outside.
The Shuto Expressway had left Tokyo behind and entered Kanagawa Prefecture. The car raced across the Bay Bridge, presumably heading for Minato Mirai.
From the window, all Rinko could see was the crimson evening sun sinking into the sea.
“Arrived!”
Near Minato Mirai, Kotone parked in the car park at Ōsanbashi and unlocked the child safety lock on the car.
That was why Rinko had been unable to escape.
She immediately unfastened her seatbelt and opened the passenger door.
Then Kotone murmured,
“Rinko-chan, can I ask you something? There’s something I really need you to hear.”
“Don’t want to.”
“Then I’ll let you listen to the recording of my debut single that’s coming out soon.”
“What!? You’re debuting as a singer!? Seriously!?”
Rinko was thoroughly disgusted with how easily she had been bought.
But there was nothing she could do about it.
This was top-secret information, after all. The announcement had not even been made yet.
It was not about the superiority of getting to hear it before the other fans.
She simply wanted to hear her favourite’s voice.
“You met her before, remember? Lyrics and music by Saikawa Hifumi. Here.”
Rinko accepted the earphones Kotone handed her without hesitation and lost herself in the voice of her favourite.
Kotone’s singing voice was neither particularly good nor particularly bad.
It was at an utterly indescribable level.
Unfortunately, Rinko had no specialist knowledge of music. Her vocabulary for judging singing consisted of precisely two options:
“It’s good.”
Or:
“It’s not really.”
“So? How’s your favourite’s song?”
“Thank you, Saikawa-san, for writing such a good song for my favourite… And I’m sorry I thought you were a terrifying woman when we first met…”
“Compliment the singing!”
“Well, it’s not bad.”
“Right, now that you’ve heard it, you can listen to what I wanted to tell you. Come on.”
“…Fine.”
In the end, she had fallen straight into the trap.
Thoroughly fed up, Rinko nevertheless followed Kotone out of the car.
Ōsanbashi.
They stood at the tip of the pier that jutted out from Yamashita Park like a tengu’s nose, gazing out at the night view spread across Tokyo Bay.
It was chilly in the early spring air, but the sea breeze felt pleasant.
There were hardly any people around, making it a place that did not violate the principle of avoiding the Three Cs.
For the first time in a while, Rinko took off her mask and breathed deeply.
“So what did you want to talk about? Just so you know, if it’s a confession, I’m not listening.”
“I’m going to tell you even if you don’t listen.”
Kotone gave a cackling laugh and leaned against the railing.
Her profile emerged from the dim light. The sea breeze stirred her long, straight hair.
Kotone drew a breath and began hesitantly.
“…You know, I think an actor is a ship.”
She suddenly spoke in a theatrical voice.
Rinko almost found herself captivated and shook her head.
“Is that a line from your new project?”
“Yep. Written and directed by Kurosu Kotone.”
“Seriously!?”
“Nah, I’m joking. I don’t have that kind of talent. I’m just saying what I think.”
She gave an embarrassed little smile before continuing.
“Actors remake themselves to fit their roles. The things around them, the way they think, even the things they like. Well, maybe I just take my preparation to extremes.”
“…………”
Kotone seemed serious.
What she was saying had the atmosphere of some celebrity documentary about Actress Kurosu Kotone, all passionate monologues and intimate revelations.
“So every time I work, I become a ship and set sail into the vast ocean of a production. The destination changes, and naturally the ship changes too. Sometimes I’m a luxury liner, sometimes I’m a little boat… You get what I mean?”
“Not really, but… It’s something like that, right? In a romance, you become an ordinary woman your age. In a live-action adaptation of an adventure manga, you become some cool female character. Your acting is completely different depending on the work.”
“You really do watch me closely. Are you sure you don’t love me?”
“I love you as a fan. Don’t make me say it again.”
Kotone smiled faintly.
The public image of Kurosu Kotone was built around her chameleon-like ability to play any role, contrasted with the refined, wholesome character she presented in her private life.
But Rinko knew the truth.
With Kotone, even that refined private persona was just another part of the chameleon act.
“Anyway, I’m an actor, and an actor is a ship. Once filming starts, I disappear. I become another personality, someone who isn’t me, and wander the open sea. What do you think happens when filming ends?”
“You’re a ship, right? Then go home. Back to the harbour.”
“How?”
“Just go home normally. Follow the light from a lighthouse or something.”
Not far from Ōsanbashi stood an old stone lighthouse that had once been in use.
If Kotone’s analogy meant that she lost herself in acting like a ship lost at sea, then all she needed to do was follow the lighthouse and find herself again.
But what Kotone said was nothing like that.
“…Sometimes I can’t remember what the original me was like.”
“What…?”
“You’ve heard about someone being swallowed by a role, right?”
“Well, yeah. I’ve seen works that deal with that kind of thing…”
Acting meant continually lying to yourself.
Sometimes that could become dangerous enough to shake a person’s very sense of self.
There were actors who took their preparation to such extremes that they lost their way as human beings, or even lost their minds. Rinko had heard that people who became obsessed with Method acting, a technique in which an actor accumulates experiences similar to those of their character in order to bring themselves closer to the role, were particularly prone to it.
She had heard that on Kotone’s radio programme, too.
“I come close to being swallowed by my roles every time. I can’t switch back properly. Same as Shan-Sis.”
“…Why does that woman have to come up now?”
“I can tell. Shan-Sis has been swallowed by acting. She got swallowed and never came back. I think she’s already lost the person she used to be… In a way, she’s lost her humanity.”
Rinko knew.
Shandy was an actress too, just like Kotone.
Something had happened in her past, something she stubbornly refused to reveal, and since then she had lived behind multiple faces, performing as a bartender.
She trusted no one. She saw a person and assumed they were a thief.
A deep-seated mistrust of humanity.
If that was the fate of someone who continued acting for too long, then Rinko could almost understand it.
Almost.
But the more she thought about it, the harder Shandy became to hate.
“…Will you end up like that too?”
“My sister is trying to accept everything about Shan-Sis, so she’ll be fine. But I don’t have anywhere to return to. I might end up like that.”
“That…”
Rinko almost said it would be a problem.
But she could not put into words why.
Kotone losing herself to acting until the private person beneath the celebrity disappeared should, in principle, have been none of Rinko’s concern.
All she needed was the dream Kotone showed her.
And yet.
If that was true, then why?
Why had Rinko almost found herself worrying about the private Kotone?
“…Why are you telling me this? What do you want from me?”
Kotone glanced at Rinko and smiled.
“I want you to be my lighthouse, Rinko-chan. So I don’t become a shipwreck.”
The sea breeze brushed against Rinko’s ears.
She heard the whistle of a high-speed boat leaving the harbour, mingling with the sound of the waves.
“Why me…?”
“Because you know the real me, not me.”
“If you stay by my side, I can keep acting and still remain myself. I can always return to who I really am.”
“There are plenty of people who know what you’re really like.”
“My parents won’t do. My sister belongs to Shan-Sis, so she won’t do either. I had lots of friends, but the moment I became an actress, they changed towards me. I can’t rely on them anymore.”
“What about your manager?”
“Fired her.”
“Why?”
Kotone chuckled and declared it without the slightest hint of remorse.
“Because she fell in love with me. I told her not to fall in love with me, but she broke her promise. I can’t use her for my acting, and she can’t be my lighthouse, so I got rid of her.”
Rinko’s hand moved before she could think.
Whether the woman in front of her was an actress or her favourite made no difference.
She did not hesitate.
Her palm swung cleanly across Kotone’s cheek.
The dry crack of the slap vanished into the sound of the waves.
“…Why did you hit me…?”
“Because you’re a horrible human being who toys with people’s hearts.”
“I’m an actress. I’m your favourite, remember?”
“Don’t think being an actor makes everything you do forgivable. Your sister and the entertainment industry might let you get away with it, but I won’t.”
“…What if you leave a mark?”
“Someone who doesn’t even understand the wounds they inflict on other people has no right to worry about her own. How do you think your manager felt, taking care of you all that time?”
“Getting lectured by someone who isn’t even involved…”
What filled Rinko’s heart was anger at the selfish woman known as Kurosu Kotone.
A vicious woman who treated playing with people’s hearts as part of her profession, deliberately manipulating everyone around her.
There was no consideration there.
No kindness.
She had become so consumed by acting that she had lost her way as a human being.
“…Sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t support you anymore.”
“Why…?”
Kotone’s voice trembled.
For a moment, Rinko was shocked and wondered if it was a lie.
As an actress, Kotone might have been acting even now. Rinko could not rule that possibility out.
“Kurosu Kotone was the worst kind of person I could have imagined. Charlotte is hundreds of times better. You’re just a heartless monster who gets away with it because you’re an actress and because you’re famous.”
“…I warned Sis, though.”
“About what?”
“…That dance thing. I got revenge on my sister for hurting you, Rinko-chan.”
Rinko was simply dumbfounded.
The Kurosu sisters were both twisted in their own peculiar ways when it came to kindness.
“I never asked you to do that…”
“…But you were crying, Rinko-chan!”
“Thank you. But that’s over now.”
“Wait…!”
“Thank you for letting me dream until now. Thank you for destroying all of those dreams too. Goodbye.”
Ignoring Kotone as she came after her, Rinko left Ōsanbashi behind.
It was all over.
She would erase every memory of the favourite who had once been more precious to her than life itself.
She would pretend none of it had ever happened.
Everything.
She made that vow as she considered how to dispose of the mountains of merchandise in her flat. She would have to move soon anyway. She could get rid of everything then, or sell it all for whatever money she could get.
The sea breeze teasing her ears stopped.
And the moment it stopped, she heard sobbing.
“Uwe… ehh… I don’t want this… Stop, please…!”
Rinko turned around.
Kotone was crying.
Crying so loudly that it was almost enough to make Rinko regret ever idolising her.
Young star.
Chameleon actress carrying the future of the theatrical world on her shoulders.
Popular actress.
There were endless words with which to decorate Kurosu Kotone.
Every one of them missed the mark.
The real Kurosu Kotone was fragile to the very core.
“You’re a grown woman, so stop crying! How much more are you planning to disappoint me!?”
“I don’t want to…! Being alone hurts… It’s scary…”
“Being alone is painful and frightening for everyone! Right, conversation over!”
“…Help me…”
Those words drove a wedge into Rinko’s heart.
Kotone’s figure overlapped with the women who had once come to Aromatic asking for help.
Women troubled because they had fallen in love with another woman.
Women lost over who they were supposed to be.
Women standing at crossroads in their lives, unable to take the next step.
Was there really someone somewhere who could save this pathetic woman?
“…I don’t want to lose anything else that matters as a human being…! I don’t want to become a shipwreck that sailed into the vast ocean… and never found its way home…”
Kotone wanted a lighthouse.
A lighthouse was a guidepost that allowed a ship to return straight to harbour.
For Kotone, who was on the verge of losing herself after one extreme role after another, it would be someone who could tell her, This is who you are.
“Haaah…”
Rinko no longer had the energy to push away Kotone, who clung to her and sobbed.
Her anger at selfish Kotone was overwritten by pity for the Kotone who had been forced to become selfish.
For Rinko, this was nothing new.
Even if she listened to someone else’s troubles and worried about them alongside the other person, that did not mean they would fall in love with her.
And yet she always ended up being a good person.
Always trying to be someone who protected others.
Perhaps somewhere inside, she wanted things to turn out that way.
Perhaps she hoped that, after all the consultations and confessions and troubles shared between them, it might eventually develop into love.
“I’m such an idiot…”
Rinko wrapped her arms around Kotone’s back.
She was the same height as Mikoto, with an appearance that people said resembled her sister.
But to Rinko, she was an entirely different woman.
“Take me to your flat.”
“…………Huh?”
“…You want me to help you, don’t you, Kotone?”
Once again, the whistle of a high-speed boat rang out across the harbour.