Chapter 126: Isn't It All Your Fault

The curtains were drawn tightly shut. If they were opened, one could look out from here and see the distant sea.

When Ye Zhao arrived the previous night, he had gazed through this very window at the vast, pitch-black expanse of water.

Released from his heavy sleep, he opened his bleary eyes. Through the haze, he saw Fuji Saiko sitting on the sofa beside the window. The dim light in the room cast a faint shadow over her profile.

At eight the previous evening, after hurriedly bringing his day’s work to an end, Ye Zhao had boarded a train alone at Tokyo Station and, following Fuji Saiko’s directions, had successfully found his way here.

This apartment near Yokohama had been purchased by Fuji Saiko as private property two years earlier. After coming to Tokyo from Akita and rising suddenly to fame, she had made several investments at the suggestion of friends. Thanks to both her good judgment and her good fortune, she had accumulated a modest fortune by now. Ye Zhao had only learned all this after they had spent some time together.

Veteran singers and actors had understood from an early age that popularity could not be relied upon forever. Once they had accumulated a little capital, they began investing in side businesses one after another. As for enka singers, their extraordinarily well-connected inner circles also gave them access to many profitable opportunities beyond the reach of ordinary people.

Feeling around, Ye Zhao found the watch on the bedside table and checked the time. It was only half past four.

Sensing that he had awakened, Fuji Saiko turned her head slightly toward him. When their eyes met, Ye Zhao rubbed his eyes, rolled over to the other side of the bed, and leaned over the edge to greet her.

“You’re up awfully early, Miss Saiko.”

“People sleep less as they grow older.”

“It’s far too soon for you to be saying things like that.”

Ye Zhao looked at her unpowdered face, still bearing the traces of a night’s sleep. Even at its worst—bare-faced, fresh from bed, and seen at the least flattering hour of the day—it had lost none of its beauty. She was a true beauty.

“You can sleep a little longer, Ye,” Fuji Saiko said softly.

Ye Zhao reached out and turned up the bedside lamp, then got out of bed and slipped on his dressing gown. He walked to the window, lifted one corner of the curtain, and looked outside. The blue-gray sky was beginning to glow faintly. Morning had arrived.

On the bedside table stood the red wine left over from the previous night. Ye Zhao poured a little into a wineglass, took a sip, then turned and held it out to Fuji Saiko.

“Would you like some?”

Though she accepted the glass, Fuji Saiko scolded him. “Drinking as soon as you wake up isn’t good for you.”

“You’re right.”

Ye Zhao knelt beside her and rested his cheek against her knee.

“But once in a while won’t hurt.”

There was nothing particularly remarkable about the time Ye Zhao spent with Fuji Saiko. They met occasionally in their daily lives, usually to have a meal or attend a performance together. Fuji Saiko was undeniably beautiful, but if beauty were the only reason, Ye Zhao would probably have stopped after a taste. He would never have continued seeing her again and again.

Strangely enough, however, Ye Zhao felt an inexplicable attachment to her. Whenever he nestled against her, he felt a curious sense of security slowly seep beneath his skin.

Fuji Saiko’s attitude toward him was equally intriguing. After moments of overwhelming passion, a trace of emptiness would often appear in her eyes. They both understood perfectly well that if this was what love between two people looked like, then it could never truly be called love. If ordinary people learned of their relationship, most would probably associate it with something disreputable.

So they had never called each other lovers, nor had they ever considered holding the other to the standards expected of lovers.

Fuji Saiko’s hand came to rest lightly on his head. Her fingertips stroked his hair in a gesture of comfort, and her voice held a hint of helplessness.

“There’s really no doing anything with you.”

Then she raised the glass to her lips and slowly drank the wine that remained.

…

When Ye Zhao woke again, it was already nine in the morning. Fuji Saiko had opened the curtains, and the sun was high outside. The vast black sea of the previous night had taken on an entirely different vitality.

He picked up the dressing gown scattered on the floor and put it on, then left the bedroom and followed the sounds coming from the kitchen. Fuji Saiko was dressed in comfortable house clothes, with a checked apron that suited her perfectly tied around her waist. She skillfully sliced carrots with a kitchen knife.

“Good morning.”

Ye Zhao approached her from behind and gently rested his chin on her shoulder.

“I thought you’d sleep a little longer, Ye.”

Without turning her head, Fuji Saiko said, “Go wash up first. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

“But this already counts as brunch, doesn’t it?”

“And whose fault is that?”

With both hands occupied, Fuji Saiko could only lightly bump her forehead against him in reproach.

Laughing, Ye Zhao kissed the corner of her mouth. He surveyed the immaculate kitchen and changed the subject.

“I wanted to say this last night. Your kitchen is really something, Miss Saiko. You have seven or eight different kinds of soy sauce alone. Just looking at them gives me a headache.”

“Different dishes call for different soy sauces.”

“I feel accomplished if I can distinguish miso soy sauce from sweet soy sauce. In my own kitchen, I only have the most ordinary kind.”

“Speaking of which, how good are you at cooking, Ye?”

“Quite ordinary. The kind of ordinary that doesn’t even inspire expectations. That said, I’ve somehow never managed to produce a truly disastrous meal.”

“You are descended from a chef, after all. The spirit of cooking must still linger in your blood.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with that…”

Ye Zhao denied it. His family had stopped being chefs starting with his father. Besides, calling it the “spirit of cooking” sounded far too juvenile.

…

For breakfast—or brunch, more accurately—Fuji Saiko had prepared miso soup with kelp and tofu, pan-fried salmon, and rice left over from the previous night. Alongside it were deeply pickled slices of radish and some plums, making for a thoroughly homestyle Japanese breakfast.

After picking up a cherry tomato served as dessert and popping it into her mouth, Fuji Saiko asked, “So you’re going to Saitama tomorrow?”

Ye Zhao nodded and swallowed the rice in his mouth.

“Yes. The actors’ training session runs from two to five in the afternoon, but since it’s the first day, there’s quite a lot to prepare. The production staff will probably have to go over around seven in the morning to coordinate everything.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It’s not too bad. The preparation is a little troublesome, but overall things are going smoothly. Still, it’s surprising that Sachiko’s first trip of the summer vacation isn’t with you, Miss Saiko.”

After summer vacation began, Fujimura Sachiko had gone on a trip to Shikoku with her classmates from Sunrise Girls’ Academy. It seemed she would be gone for about a week.

At the mention of it, Fuji Saiko’s brows filled with a touch of helplessness.

“That girl told me, ‘Just like saving the pudding for last when you’re eating a school lunch, good things should be saved until the end.’ So we agreed to travel together just before school starts again.”

“I’d like to say that the two of you really are close, but that comparison is rather sad.”

“Sad?”

“No matter how carefully you plan things, there’s only so much pudding to go around… But it’s precisely because pudding is limited that it becomes special. Whenever I think about it that way, I feel rather sad.”

Fuji Saiko thought for a moment.

“I suppose I understand what you mean.”

“But understanding things like that is terribly boring.”

Ye Zhao smiled.

“By the way, there are quite a few girls around Sachiko’s age in the production. If she gets bored during the summer vacation, she’s welcome to come by and visit.”