Shuichi Hayashi cracked three eggs into a bowl, deftly mixing in some milk as he whisked. Mr. Fujimori watched him prepare the tamagoyaki, his expression a mix of nostalgia and melancholy. "Might be my last time eating this," the old man said softly. "Won't get the chance again."
"You found who you're looking for?" Shuichi asked, curiosity piqued.
"Got a lead," Mr. Fujimori nodded. "Tomorrow, I'll confirm if it's really him."
"Your luck's something else," Shuichi remarked.
Every evening this week, the old man had asked Shuichi to keep an eye out for a lanky young man, but he'd been cagey about their connection and had no photo—just a vague description of the guy's build and looks. In a city of millions like Tokyo, finding someone with so little to go on was like searching for a needle in a haystack. Shuichi had figured it'd take years, yet here was Fujimori with a lead in just a few days.
The old man gave a dry chuckle. "Didn't think it'd be this easy. Guy's got some guts…"
His tone set off alarm bells in Shuichi's head. "Mr. Fujimori, this person doesn't have a grudge against you, does he? You're not looking for revenge, are you?"
"Ha, you're overthinking it," Fujimori laughed, waving it off. "I'm tracking him down for a friend. My buddy's got some money stashed with this guy and asked me to retrieve it."
"Your friend can't handle it himself?" Shuichi pressed.
"He's not doing so hot—been stuck in the hospital," Fujimori sighed. "Hope I can get the money back in time."
Shuichi plated the freshly made tamagoyaki and set it in front of the old man. He wanted to dig deeper—something about Fujimori's tone felt off, like the story was more complicated than he let on. But before he could ask, a commotion erupted from the corner of the izakaya. Kogoro Mouri's voice rose in a heated argument, with Yukiko Fujimine standing nearby.
Customers turned to stare, their murmurs filling the air. Shuichi set aside Fujimori's issue for now and headed over. "Kogoro, what's going on?"
"This creep's been harassing Fujimine-san," Kogoro said, pointing at a middle-aged man by a table. "She told him to back off, but he won't quit."
"Back off from what?" Shuichi asked, frowning. "What's this about?"
"I… don't really know," Kogoro admitted, scratching his head. "I just heard her say she's not going."
Typical Kogoro, playing hero without a clue, Shuichi thought, exasperated. He turned to Yukiko, whose face was flushed with anger. "What happened?"
Yukiko huffed, glaring at the man. "Ask him."
"Sir, if our service was lacking, I apologize on her behalf," Shuichi said, keeping his tone diplomatic for the sake of business. "But this is an izakaya. If you've got other requests, please take them elsewhere."
He'd assumed the man was hitting on Yukiko, taking advantage of her youth and looks. But instead, the man pulled out a business card and handed it over. "Daiki Takashima, Kuki Agency."
Shuichi stared at the card. Kuki Agency?
"No misunderstanding here," Takashima said, smiling. "I'm not harassing this young lady. I'm a talent scout for Kuki Agency. Her image and charisma are perfect, so I was trying to convince her to join our agency."
"A talent scout?" Kogoro's eyes widened. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"
"She's already said no," Shuichi said firmly, handing the card back. "Please stop bothering her."
Takashima didn't take it, instead turning to Shuichi with a grin. "If the young lady's not interested, how about you, manager? Care to join our agency?"
"Me?" Shuichi blinked, caught off guard.
"Absolutely," Takashima said, sizing him up. "Even in that chef's uniform, I can tell you've got a great build. Pair that with your handsome face, and you'd be a hit in the entertainment industry."
Shuichi's brow furrowed. Something felt off. If Takashima was a legit scout, Yukiko shouldn't be this upset. He glanced at Kogoro, who was flexing his biceps and striking poses. "Hey, Mr. Takashima, what about me? Can I join your agency?"
"Uh…" Takashima hesitated. "Your build's decent, but your face is a bit… ordinary."
While Kogoro kept the man distracted, Shuichi pulled Yukiko aside. "Is there something wrong with this agency?"
"…Yeah," Yukiko said, biting her lip and nodding.
"Got it," Shuichi said, his voice low. "I'll handle this. Go help somewhere else."
"Wait, you're not actually considering their offer, are you?" Yukiko grabbed his arm, alarmed. "You can't! They're—"
"Relax," Shuichi said with a reassuring smile. "You said they're shady, so why would I say yes? If I ever go into showbiz, I'll stick with a star's kid like you. We could make a movie together."
"Who's making a movie with you?!" Yukiko's face flushed crimson, and she stomped off in a huff.
Gotcha, Shuichi thought, crumpling the business card and tossing it into the trash. His expression darkened as he walked back to the table.
Kogoro was still badgering Takashima about joining the agency. "Our standards for male actors are either strikingly handsome with a great physique or… uniquely unattractive and heavyset," Takashima explained, struggling. "Your build's fine, but your looks are too average for our needs."
"Handsome, I get," Kogoro said, puzzled. "But unattractive and heavyset? Those guys can act in movies?"
"Of course," Takashima said. "The handsome ones appeal to female audiences, feeding their fantasies. The others cater to male viewers—"
"Enough," Shuichi cut in sharply. "Sir, if you're here to eat or drink, you're welcome. If you're here to talk business, get out."
(End of Chapter)