Chapter 67

Chapter 67: In the End, I Still Walked the Path of a Copycat Writer

After starting work in his previous life, Nagayama Naoki had spent much of his spare time catching up on films, and this movie was among them. Because he liked it so much, he had even bought the original novel “The Friends” to read.

Its exploration of life and death, its reflections on human existence, and the warm interaction between the elderly and the young were deeply moving.

Children’s literature in China tended to avoid the topic of death.

Against that broader cultural background, this Japanese children’s story felt especially powerful, striking directly at the heart.

This was the first time Nagayama Naoki recalled the past not because of music.

So memories were not triggered only by melodies.

Suddenly filled with recollections, his mind refused to rest. Every scene and every line appeared vividly clear. Nagayama Naoki knew that after some time these memories would sink back into his subconscious, leaving only fragments behind.

“The palest ink is better than the best memory.” It was a saying teachers had repeated throughout his childhood.

He did not disappoint their teachings. Taking out paper and pen, he began recording everything.

The novel itself was not long, only fifty to sixty thousand words in total.

There was no need to rethink the plot, no transitions to design, no effort required to embellish the prose. Writing such a novel took Nagayama Naoki only one afternoon.

Looking at the manuscript titled “Natsu no Niwa,” he felt a faint sense of satisfaction. The original author, Yumoto Kazumi, was probably still a university student studying opera writing at this time; the book would not be published until more than twenty years later.

Although he felt slightly embarrassed, it seemed he had truly stepped onto the road of becoming a copycat writer.

He had already sold songs before. At least he had developed a thick enough skin.

Now that the manuscript and film imagery were already clear in his mind, writing the movie script naturally followed. Nagayama Naoki decided to complete the screenplay that same day.

After writing for a long time, his arms grew sore. Dinner was handled hastily.

In his dreams, he seemed to return once again to the summer garden, where cosmos flowers bloomed brilliantly.

Nagayama Naoki was awakened by the ringing of the telephone.

Opening his eyes, he saw that it was already past ten o’clock, and his stomach was growling.

The call was, of course, from Fujita Keiko. Her work efficiency had always been high.

“Naoki-san, I’ve gathered several property listings. There are both residences and commercial spaces this time, and quite a lot of options.”

“Thank you for your hard work, Keiko-san. That gives me much more room to choose. About how many properties are there?”

“Roughly more than a dozen.”

“How are there so many?” Nagayama Naoki was surprised. Previously there had only been five or six options at most.

“Thanks to you, Naoki-san, my authority at the head office has been upgraded. I now have access to much more information.”

Previously, Fujita Keiko had needed to call each branch individually. But after reporting Nagayama Naoki’s purchase request yesterday, the branch manager forwarded the matter directly to headquarters. As a result, her permissions were upgraded, allowing her to access property databases from all branches.

This clearly marked him as a major client. Combined with Keiko’s own competence and experience, headquarters was already planning to transfer her there in the future.

“So you’re getting promoted? Congratulations, Keiko-san.”

“I should be the one thanking you, Naoki-san,” Fujita Keiko said happily. “Your purchases alone almost equal our branch’s annual performance target.”

“Hahaha, is it really that exaggerated? Just lucky opportunities.”

After chatting briefly, she asked, “Naoki-san, should I drive you to view the properties again this time?”

“Keiko-san, with so many options, visiting each one would be too troublesome.” Nagayama Naoki glanced at the bright sunlight outside and silently added, “and far too hot.”

“Then what would you prefer?”

“Please send me the property information first. I’ll select a few suitable ones before visiting them in person.” He did not care much about the interior details; location alone was enough for preliminary selection.

“Understood, Naoki-san. I’ll organize everything and send it to your address. Still the Waseda apartment, correct?”

“Yes. Thank you for your trouble, Keiko-san.”

“It’s no trouble at all. It’s my job.”

After a few more exchanges, the matter was settled, and Nagayama Naoki could finally deal with his loudly protesting stomach.

Once again it was cold food with beer, which even made him consider trying to recreate Chinese liangpi someday.

By the time he finished eating, it was already past noon. Over several days, kitchen scraps and household trash had accumulated at home. If not cleaned promptly, mosquitoes and insects would soon appear.

After tidying the kitchen, Nagayama Naoki went downstairs to throw away the garbage.

Unexpectedly, he saw the same three children from the previous day.

This time they were not carrying wooden basins. The three gathered sneakily at the old house’s entrance, peeking inside as if confirming whether the elderly man was home.

“Shi-chan, are we really doing this? That old man was scary yesterday!”

“Kazuya, what are you afraid of? He yelled at us yesterday. Eda, take out the water balloon!”

The three children planned to place a water balloon above the door so that it would fall and scare the old man when he opened it.

They were not truly bad kids, merely attempting a small prank. But the old man was very elderly; they had not considered what might happen if he fell or suffered an accident from being startled.

Nagayama Naoki was not usually someone who interfered in other people’s business, but this situation could not be ignored.

He quietly walked behind them and suddenly spoke:

“What are you three doing?”

Focused entirely on observing the house, the children were startled by the sudden voice behind them and nearly lost their balance.

Seeing how frightened they were, Nagayama Naoki continued sternly:

“You’re planning a prank, aren’t you? Look at yourselves—just being startled nearly made you collapse. That elderly man is so old. What if he falls after being scared?”

The three children barely recovered. The apparent leader, Akita Shi, seemed ready to argue.

Nagayama Naoki did not know whether they were troublemakers or not. The priority was to intimidate them first; authority relied on presence.

Without giving him a chance to speak, he raised his voice even more severely:

“What are your names? Who are your parents? Where do you live? I’m going to have a serious talk with them!”

In Japan’s clearly hierarchical society, children generally respected adults. Standing tall with a stern expression, Nagayama Naoki projected unmistakable adult authority.

The elementary school kids could not withstand it. Tears nearly formed in their eyes.

Under his gaze, they reported their names one by one:

“I’m Akita Shi.”

“I’m Haragami Eda.”

“I’m Haruyama Kazuya.”

They lived nearby; otherwise they would not have come here to play.

Akita Shi, seemingly the bravest, quickly pleaded:

“Mister, please don’t tell our parents. We absolutely won’t do this kind of prank again!”

“We won’t dare anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah.”