A sensitive subject? What was Mr. Ishibashi talking about?
It must have been important, for the owner and Mr. Sakai to get so worked up about it.
However, the young singer didn't say anything more about it, preferring to focus on us and more particularly on the author we were in charge of.
"Tell me, how does it feel to be around someone like Osagawa sensei?" He asked with some zest.
Ah. He must have been a fan, because his face was full of expectation and curiosity. He was excited, and I could see that he was really hoping to learn something about the author through us.
"It' s the usual, I suppose?" Said Mister Nakatsuki, a little embarrassed and caught off guard.
"Is he someone as classy and polite as they say? Or is it instead a front?" Asked the young man unabashedly, his gaze going from Mr. Nakatsuki to myself and back again. "Has he already started writing his next book?"
"Eh...." Mr. Nakatsuki hesitated before quickly giving me a desperate look.
What? You've been his editor longer than I have.
You must know more about this old man than I do, so why are you looking at me as if I could answer for you?
"Do you have access to rejected or unpublished manuscripts too?" Continued the young man. "Or do you already know who the culprit is from the start?"
Mister Nakatsuki gave me a restless look again, which made me think that he must have a hard time imposing himself in this kind of situation.
Nevertheless, I wasn't going to react for so little. I was still only an apprentice editor, so I had never had to deal with such a situation, which made my senior take responsibility.
"Uh... The answer to most of these questions is confidential..." Finally managed to say Mister Nakatsuki.
He had obviously understood that I wouldn't be of any help to him in this situation, and had finally decided to interrupt the flow of questions that the singer had been throwing around for a few seconds.
"I... I see, it's a pity..." Said Mr. Ishibashi, a little disappointed. "But I guess that's how it is!"
He smiled at us once more before excusing himself, claiming that he was going back to his room to rest for a while.
Mr. Nakatsuki took the opportunity to sigh with relief.
"Ah, I'm really not used to such energetic and insistent people..." He said before giving me a look. "Good thing you're pretty calm and passive, Nijima."
Had he just indirectly said that I was boring and lethargic?
I wasn't sure how to take that last remark, or if it was meant to be positive or negative, to tell the truth.
Regarding Mr. Ishibashi, it seemed to me that his questions were more a way to divert the subject of the conversation; rather than to really satisfy his curiosity. Perhaps the argument that had taken place a few minutes earlier had still shaken him up and disturbed him, although he was not directly involved.
However, this observation of the situation had probably gone unnoticed by my colleague, who was still talking about our duties as editors.
"But don't forget that as a future editor, you have to learn how to handle these kinds of people who are a little too curious," he advised me. "Fans tend to want to know anything and everything; but in our work, it's important to respect the confidentiality of the works and the privacy of the authors in our care."
Ah, because it was under control back there?
To me, it seemed like he had a hard time fending off Mr. Ishibashi, despite his status as second senior editor at Tokuma.
If he was in charge of a dozen successful authors, and he was hardly ever in the office, it was because he was very competent at his job.
However, it seemed that he had a lot of trouble dealing with anyone who wasn't an author, editor, or even a subcontractor.
Perhaps he was too used to the quiet routine he had established all these years, and had been taken aback by the young man's insistent attitude.
"Ah... I wonder what we're going to eat, it's already almost five in the afternoon.... " Said he to change the subject of the conversation, while massaging his chin. "What we ate earlier was not enough for me at all..."
It is true that the morning had passed rather quickly, considering how busy we had been.
The producer had taken the opportunity to ask us at every opportunity to carry material, or to pick up one of the guests according to the schedule in place.
We had then all taken a break, the owner and the young employee of the pension having prepared an assortment of dishes with rice for lunch.
Then, the afternoon had been busy again, Mr. Sakai making us go back and forth with the first floor where Mr. Yazawa was, in order to assist him in the preparations of the next sequences. He was probably trying to reprimand us for Master Osagawa's absence, while avoiding running into the owner with whom he had an argument. Unless it was his way of passing his nerves without targeting anyone in particular.
During all this time, it had been raining continuously, making it impossible to shoot outside, much to the despair of the producer and the TV crew. This had further worsened the mood of the people present, who were all stuck together inside the guesthouse, without the possibility of getting too far away from each other.
Also, the rooms being the only place where everyone could claim some peace and quiet and rest away from the others, I was intrigued by Noel's quasi-permanent presence throughout the day in the grand salon.
I was apparently not the only one it intrigued, because Mr. Nakatsuki had naturally walked towards her when we came back into the room.
"Oh, you're still here, Noel-san?" He asked when he saw that the young woman was still sitting on one of the sofas.
She had hardly moved since this morning, except for her own interview. Still in the same place, busy either looking at her phone or trying to see something outside, despite the gloomy weather making everything gray, and the darkness that would soon fall on the hill where we were.
"I prefer it here... "She replied succinctly, giving us a quick glance.
The young woman remained silent, proof that she didn't want to engage in conversation with us; which depressed my senior a little.
As we sat around the large dining table, Mr. Nakatsuki poured us each a glass of water and sighed.
He looked bored and dejected with the situation; something I could understand quite well.
I felt like we were useless, not being able to do our 'real' job because of unfortunate circumstances.
"You know what? I think I'm going to call my wife," he said after draining his glass of water in one go. "I'll be right back, so do whatever you want."
He stood up, and in a few seconds, he had disappeared into the first floor's hallway. Perhaps to isolate himself and to be able to talk without restraint to his wife.
Was it a sudden urge that he had had? Like an obviousness imposing itself on him? Or was it something he had already planned to do in advance?
I had never felt the need to call my parents to give them an update, or even send them a message. To me, it seemed like everything was fine, as long as they didn't contact me.
I thought it was unnecessary to have to call them when they themselves were already calling me when they wanted to. So receiving a call or a message was not something special for me.
It was something trivial, either related to my private life - and my parents - or related to work - and Mr. Chiba's possible fits of nerves.
However, the written message I received in the next few minutes was neither trivial nor unnecessary.
--'I hope your trip is going well, Nijima-kun! If you ever experience any trouble, don't hesitate to call me, okay?'--
It was rather short, direct and without really going into details. I wasn't sure how she knew I was currently away from the city either. Maybe the notorious 'TXT' had informed her about it.
But strangely, this one message from the detective had again provoked something in me. As if, despite the distance, she still had a hold on my almost non-existent emotions.
This message, which had shaken my chest a little, had reassured me.
No, it had done much more than that.
I now had the urge to get out of here quickly; eager to be around her again, and to feel new things.
"What do you mean by that?" A male voice spoke up, breaking the quiet that had settled in the large living room.
I turned my gaze to the direction the voice was coming from: the entrance to the room, overlooking the first floor hallway.
Just inside the doorway were Mr. Yazawa and Mr. Ishibashi.
"I'm only telling the truth..." Mr. Ishibashi replied calmly.
The singer then noticed out of the corner of his eye that I was watching him, and suddenly turned to disappear into the hallway out of my sight; leaving Mr. Yazawa alone in the double sliding doorway.
The owner seemed tense, as he still had a clenched fist and frowned.
He directed his annoyed gaze at me for a moment, and realizing that he had been observed, hurriedly assumed a more neutral expression.
Nevertheless, the muscles in his cheeks continued to tense and relax, a sign that he was opening and closing his jaw in frustration.
Then he too disappeared down the hall, leaving me staring at the deserted place.
I didn't know exactly what they had talked about together, but I was now sure that the two men were not on friendly terms.
My empty eyes still directed towards the entrance of the room caught the return of Mr. Nakatsuki, all smiles, who went straight to me.
"Well, what happened?" He asked me, his smile losing its intensity.
I looked up at him, curious as to why he was asking me that.
"Did something happen, do you think?" I asked wearily.
"Well, from the look on your face, I think something must have happened, yeah," he explained, scratching his head.
"The look on my face?" I repeated without really being interested.
Mr. Nakatsuki then placed his right hand clenched into a fist under his chin, and in a thoughtful tone, clarified what he meant.
"Well you know, that kind of expression a person might have when they're overthinking something?" He tried to explain. "You had that kind of face, so I figured something must have happened."
"Because you can tell when I'm thinking?" I wondered.
"Um, how can I put it... It's pretty subtle, but it's still slightly different from your default expression," he said with some hesitation.
As if to illustrate his words, he swept his right hand palm in front of his own face, from bottom to top.
It's the first time someone said something like that to me.
I was a little self-conscious about it, actually.
I felt like I had suddenly revealed a part of myself to my colleague, and to hide my embarrassment, I deflected the conversation.
"What about your phone call?" I asked with an expression that I was sure to show as neutral.
Mister Nakatsuki then began to give a smart smile, while putting his right hand on his right side.
"Ah that really made me feel good, you have no idea!" He exclaimed, not even bothering to disturb the other people present with his more prominent voice.
However, he immediately lost his smile a few seconds later, as another power outage occurred and plunged the room into darkness.
"Again?" He wondered in the darkness.
There was a flash of light caused by the lightning, and I could see that Mr. Nakatsuki had a worried expression on his face, his eyes wide open reflecting the short glow caused by the storm.
It was almost like a horror story with such an atmosphere...