"So, ready to hit the road?" Mister Nakatsuki yawned as he closed the driver's side door.
Being my assigned supervisor for the mission at hand, he had planned to drive the first part of the trip, so that he could sleep afterwards while I was behind the wheel.
It must have been 6:30 in the morning, and even if we had decided to meet half an hour before the scheduled departure, we were a bit tired from getting up much earlier than usual. After all, coffee couldn't always help one feel entirely awake.
Already seated behind the steering wheel, Mr. Nakatsuki started the van belonging to our company and programmed the GPS on the touch screen in the center of the vehicle's dashboard.
If I remembered correctly the documents that I had received the week before, we would have to drive even farther than we did to get to Master Osagawa's house; since our destination was in Aichi Prefecture.
The TV station had rented for several days a guesthouse in the middle of the countryside, far from any construction - which in this mountainous area was not very complicated to achieve - and overlooking the nearby Midori Lake.
Perhaps they had chosen this place to avoid prying eyes, while enjoying a soothing view? In any case, the guesthouse seemed to be appreciated by the tourists, although their website was very rudimentary and rather old.
As for the journey, it would surely be just as interesting, as we would pass between the base of Mount Fuji and Suruga Bay to cross Shizuoka prefecture. However, to my dismay, we were not going to take the seaside road, but to stay on the highway until we reached Aichi.
I couldn't remember the last time I had been to the sea, but it must have been well before university. Although the weather was a bit gloomy in the beginning of an autumn season that most people would avoid, I would have liked to go to the seaside, even if most of the time there were concrete embankments as far as the eye could see.
It was quite charming, walking along those endless roads bordering the ocean, climbing on the wave breakers from time to time, and observing those palm trees curiously positioned on an area planted between the houses and the road.
I wasn't sure if they were planted there to simulate the postcards of the French Riviera, or just to emphasize Shizuoka's role as a seaside resort. It had to be said that the illusion was perfect, under the blazing summer sun.
But at this time of the year, alternating between showers and sunshine?
It was suddenly less attractive. It was even a little sad, dreary.
One could also alternate between the cracked asphalt of the road and the grass of this large green space bordering the city to walk under a light salty breeze; while watching the waves coming to scatter on the various artificial reefs created by man before their remains came to lick the dark gray sand forming a long and flat beach.
However, what I liked most about these landscapes was the partly eerie, partly supernatural presence that the hills and mountains in the immediate vicinity of the sea could have.
Even if you had a clear view and you were walking on a plain that was only formed because of Abe river's estuary, there were always, at the end of the horizon, these big masses of soft and darker green interposing; as if to say 'you think you can go further? Well, too bad!'. Because irremediably, the roads had to deviate from their way, and painfully skirt the rocks constituting their base.
Of course, in the meantime, humanity had rebelled, and had maliciously pierced and excavated the very heart of these hills to make way for passengers and goods. The express trains, similar to huge iron snakes, waved gently in the corridor that had been assigned to them, before suddenly being swallowed by vegetation and stone.
So yes, I was a little disappointed to miss all this. Especially since it was Mr. Nakatsuki who was driving for the first part of the trip, allowing me to admire the landscape. It was less exciting, but from the top of the bridges we were driving on, I could see the inhabitants of the cities we were overlooking, like scale models faithfully showing the daily life their creator had made them imitate.
To make the time go by, I had the choice between dense forests exploited by man on one side; and the housing areas undulating in unison with the rivers between the hills, until the ocean which was too far away for me to see properly.
As for the spaces occupied by the houses, buildings, and other buildings, they contrasted with their gray and beige color, tearing the coast in an irregular way as if an animal had planted its claws there.
However, my enthusiasm was short-lived: there were very few bridges, and the majority of the journey was punctuated by huge tunnels and open-air lanes lined with railings and low walls obstructing the view.
Rather bored and completely awake, I took advantage of Mr. Nakatsuki's driving to consult again the file transmitted by the TV station.
According to their program concept, the other guests were, in addition to our author, Master Osagawa, a well-known singer (at least for those who were interested in that) and a female model who worked for the big brands. The fourth guest was an influencer straight out of social networks, who made videos about absolutely anything and everything to get views.
Faced with such an eclectic cast, I didn't really know what the producers' criteria were for selecting people to audition. Did these people have anything in common? Or had they just taken the most fashionable personalities of the moment?
From what I could see, it was nothing more or less than the great advertising circus act to attract the public and stimulate consumption in general. It was just a cleverly orchestrated play to present guest personalities in a new way, while creating entertaining content that would keep viewers from zapping to another channel.
Hence, I was a little disturbed to have to take part in all this excitement, even if I would remain behind the camera. I sincerely hoped that I wouldn't stand out and be noticed, because having to interact with people I didn't know at all, and didn't necessarily want to know, was much harder than trying to understand others.
There were just times when no matter how hard you tried, people would always come to you.