Chapter 185 - A Laid-Back American Girl
As soon as I arrived at the station, I was surrounded by the program staff.
Barely finishing our greetings, I was led to a conference room, and a barrage of questions began with the intensity of an interrogation.
They seemed desperately curious about the circumstances of how I apprehended the molester.
"So. So. What kind of girl did you save? Is she cute? Do you think she'd appear on our show? Think she'd bring in ratings?"
"...We were going to prepare foreigner plants, right? One of them was being groped. A girl named Mitsuko Shibata. Her stage name is Emily."
Instantly, the room froze over.
Producer Kurosawa averted his eyes from me and mumbled evasively, "Plants is a strong word; they're merely cooperative local residents."
Several tens of minutes passed after that.
As a result of our continued discussion, it was decided that this incident would not be featured on the program.
Saving an ordinary girl would be fine, but it's problematic if the victim was a girl we intended to use as a plant. She might co-star on the program in the future, and people might suspect it was staged. Summarizing Producer Kurosawa's argument, that was the gist of it.
No objections were raised, so this matter will likely be handled internally.
"Another station might pick it up as news, though. It's frustrating."
I posed a question to Producer Kurosawa, who was furrowing his brow.
"Is Emily okay?"
"Huh?"
"A girl her age was groped by an old man this morning. Is she in any condition to appear on the show?"
"Ah, she's not feeling well. ...Nakamoto-san, you're quite knowledgeable about the ecology of teenage girls. Well, you are engaged to a high school girl, after all. Every day must be a teenager appreciation viewing for you."
She's been completely out of sorts since she got here, the pudgy producer said.
"Well, you see. Since she was spectacularly late, I was actually going to scold her. But she was deathly pale and said she got caught up in a train incident. I assumed she'd witnessed a fatal accident or something, but to think she was the victim of the groping herself..."
Why didn't she say so sooner? Producer Kurosawa muttered, stroking his chin.
This man's ethics are slightly broken, so he probably can't fathom it, but I think it takes considerable courage for a girl her age to tell people around her, "I was groped."
"What should I do? Should we drop her? It'd be impossible for her to play a cheerful foreigner like that, right? Should I arrange for another girl for now?"
Why are you going in that direction? I stopped Producer Kurosawa.
Isolating the victim, not the perpetrator. Why are molestation and school bullying always resolved this way?
"I'll go follow up with her. I just need to get her back to a usable state, right?"
This is a TV work opportunity that an aspiring actress finally grasped. It would be pitiful for her to lose the job for a reason like this.
Besides... Emily, or rather Mitsuko Shibata, might be connected to the other world.
If possible, I want to keep her close. If she can stay on as a co-star like this, it would be convenient for me too.
"Nakamoto-san, you're so hot-blooded."
I'm laughed at with an exasperated voice, but I ignore it and go look for Mitsuko.
Hot-blooded, huh. Certainly, that's part of it, but cold calculation is also at work. Both are aspects of my nature.
I shake off the staff clinging to me and jog toward the dressing room.
I feel hesitant about showing my face in that space resembling a girls' school classroom, but this is no time to be dawdling.
"Emily! You in here!"
When I opened the door, countless faces inside turned toward me. Dozens of girls, all dressed up. Their hair and clothes were richly varied, but their eyes were mostly black.
Among them, I spotted a group with blue or gray eyes.
It was Chloe and the others.
The plant group, consisting of half-Japanese and foreign girls, was huddled together in a corner of the dressing room.
They probably stand out from the other girls both in status and race, so those in similar circumstances gather together.
"You're late."
Rio approached me from the side with a click-clack of her shoes, but I held up a hand to stop her, saying, "You wait."
At that moment, text appeared: 【Party Member Rio Saito's Affection Level has increased by 009940.】
Apparently, it's not just the status appraisal; the system messages are also displaying strangely.
"Yeah... ngh! I'll wait like a good girl...! I'll wait for dozens of hours...!"
Leaving Rio, who was getting excited at being put on hold, I approached the foreign girls.
It seems besides Chloe and Emily, there's another girl with red hair.
"...Mitsu... Is Emily okay?"
Looking, I saw Emily hugging her knees on a cushion. The red-haired girl, kneeling beside her, was continuously rubbing her back with a worried look.
"It's just so pitiful. She seems to have developed a complete phobia of men, I tell ya."
"...I tell ya?"
"She was still okay when she got here, ya know. But there was a cameraman who was a bit touchy-feely. Seems it reminded her of what happened on the train."
The red-haired girl turned her face toward me. Her eyes were green. Colored contacts, maybe?
I observed the girl again.
She was tall and slender, with a baseball cap worn backwards on her head. Despite it still being chilly, she was wearing a black camisole on top and hot pants on the bottom. The overall impression that fits best is "active American girl." Such an obviously Western-looking girl, speaking fluent Kyoto dialect?
My brain couldn't keep up with the processing, and I was completely frozen.
"Come to think of it, Nakamoto-han was the one who saved Emily, right? Much obliged. As her friend, I'll offer my thanks."
"Let me guess. The punchline is that one of your parents is Japanese and you're wearing colored contacts. Your mother is a graceful Kyoto beauty."
"No, no. My father and mother are both American, pure white folks. My name's Western too; they call me Rebecca. Everyone freezes up just like Nakamoto-han when I open my mouth, ya know."
"...Well... that is surprising."
A red-haired white girl, named Rebecca, who speaks in Kyoto dialect.
Wouldn't anyone be confused?
"My heart is Japanese, though. Before I was born, Japan had an image of being a country of ninja, samurai, and geisha more than anime and manga, right? So my parents were drawn to that and naturalized. They thought traditional Japanese culture was good, so they lived in Kyoto and used Kyoto dialect even at home. Thanks to that, I turned out like this."
"That's quite a gap between your appearance and that."
"Everyone at the station tells me to act more like a foreigner, but what am I supposed to do? My everyday clothes are kimono, ya know. ...Anyway, shouldn't we do something about Emily rather than me?"
Right.
I was completely distracted by the laid-back American, but my goal is to follow up with Emily while probing her.
"Are you okay?"
I crouched down, bringing my gaze to Emily's level, and asked.
Her emerald green eyes directed a weak gaze at me. Eyes moist with tears, with colored contacts in them.
"...I couldn't handle it. When a man touched me again, I remembered."
Emily spoke in a frail voice.
But this girl should have given me a thank-you kiss.
Is she really scared of men now? Isn't that an act?
Or is it true she's become scared of men, but she absolutely needed to make contact with me for some reason?
While showing concern for the girl in front of me, I simultaneously harbored suspicion.
I hate how jaded I've become, but it's a habit I picked up during my life as a Hero.
I can't stop the habit of being excessively wary of people I meet for the first time. It's the price of being thrown onto the battlefield and spending years cutting and being cut.
"So you've become scared of men. ...Then, am I scary too? If it's better that I don't talk to you, I'll do that."
"...Nakamoto-san is fine."
Emily told me in a tearful voice.
I'm fine. Why? What are you hiding?
"Because I'm your savior?"
"...Um..."
Nakamoto-han, Nakamoto-han, my sleeve was tugged. The American with the Kyoto dialect, Rebecca, brought her face close to mine.
"This girl's been a fan of yours since your debut, ya know."
"...What?"
"On top of being a muscle fetishist, she says Nakamoto-han resembles her father. She even took this job because she could co-star with Nakamoto-han. So maybe that's why she's fine with you."
Don't say embarrassing things, Emily said, lightly smacking Rebecca's shoulder.
...A fan since my debut?
Huh?
Then this girl is definitely not a bad girl. There's no way such a good girl is connected to the other world.
Looking closely, she's got a nice butt. Even without looking closely, her chest is nicely big.
Wow...
I gotta ask if she uses Shine. Gotta exchange sweet and sour messages every night, keep interacting while maintaining my position as the older brother she admires, gently advise her to "look toward younger guys instead of me," and watch over her until she marries someone other than me. I want to be invited to the ceremony as a matchmaker and introduced as, "He's been more of a father to me than my real father; he's my other dad."
And then, a few years later, I just want to receive a New Year's card saying, "We named our newborn Keisuke," and shed a tear.
"Whoa."
I shook my head vigorously and brought my consciousness back to reality.
Anyone would become like this after being declared a fan by a half-Japanese, big-breasted middle school girl. This is a natural human reaction. It's not my fault.
"I resemble Emily's old man? But your father is American, isn't he?"
What does it mean that we resemble each other despite being different races?
I need to crush any suspicious points, even just one. I think I'm being nasty-natured myself, but I have to be thorough.
"...My father also has a solid build."
"Hmm."
"And."
"And?"
My father is a soldier, Emily murmured.
"He works on a base. He's in a fairly high position."
"A US soldier, huh."
"Yes. ...When I was little, he apparently went to the Middle East. Seems he went through a lot of scary things. Maybe because of that. Sometimes his eyes look terribly lonely. His eyes at those times somehow resemble Nakamoto-san."
"I resemble a US soldier back from the Middle East?"
"It's strange, isn't it. Nakamoto-san is a celebrity from a peaceful country. But somehow, the atmosphere is similar."
...Certainly, I'm also like a returning soldier.
A person who experienced a hellish battlefield and lost many things.
Even if Emily sensed the same scent from me as from her father, it wouldn't be unnatural.
Is this girl not lying?
Is she really my fan?
"...Maybe if Nakamoto-san hugged me, I'd feel braver..."
Emily said with imploring eyes.
I felt the atmosphere in the dressing room switch to something tense. Mainly, the girls who had attempted pillow business with me were visibly angry.
"...If you hugged me tight, like my father does, I might be able to work normally."