Chapter 27

Chapter 27: 027 “The girls at nightclubs don’t just want your wallet”

Once the root of the problem was identified, solving it became simple.

“Yoshie-san, do you drink alcohol?” Naoki Nagayama asked through the microphone.

“Huh? Sorry… I’ve had a little at home before.”

“Then no problem. Nagashima-san, please go buy a few bottles of beer,” he said to Daitomo Nagashima. “Let Yoshie-san drink a little and relax.”

“Uh… Naoki-san, Yoshie-san is only fifteen!”

“Ah, I forgot. Then buy some liquor chocolates instead.”

There was always another solution.

While waiting, Naoki told Yoshie Kashiwabara to rest a bit and stretch to relax, then he closed the curtain between the control room and the recording booth.

With Naoki’s figure suddenly hidden, Yoshie visibly relaxed.

A convenience store downstairs made the purchase easy, and the liquor chocolates arrived quickly.

“Yoshie-san, eat a few chocolates. Then we’ll open your voice and try again.”

She ate the chocolates Nagashima handed her. The alcohol-filled sweetness melted instantly. If love had a flavor, she felt it would probably taste like this.

The next take carried strong emotion and energy.

“Very good, Yoshie-san. If this were a live concert, it would already count as an exceptional performance. But for a record, we need a little more control.”

“Rest briefly, then sing again in a relaxed state.”

That take passed.

The entire recording process took less than two hours. Most of the remaining time went into post-production: removing noise, trimming breaths, and final mixing.

By the time the master was exported, the entire morning still hadn’t passed. Compared with normal record production, the efficiency was astonishing.

After gathering to listen once more, the A-side was officially complete. The B-side was planned as a surprise: Naoki Nagayama’s own male version of the song. Since he was both composer and producer, he could openly use his authority for personal benefit.

Before disbanding, a celebration dinner was mandatory.

The restaurant had been arranged by Nagashima Daitomo’s company, Philips Records.

For such an outstanding song, having Yoshie Kashiwabara perform it while Philips Records handled distribution alongside Halo Studio and STARLIGHT Agency in a revenue split had surprised the label itself.

Judging whether a song would succeed was a record company’s basic skill, and “Sakura Anata ni Deaete Yokatta” was destined to become a hit.

The high-end restaurant revived Naoki’s spirits somewhat. A few drinks relaxed the staff.

Although Yoshie could not drink alcohol, finishing the recording and the earlier chocolates had already put her at ease, and she finally dared to chat casually with Naoki.

“Nagayama-kun, the song is finished, but why are you still frowning? Is something unfinished?”

“No, Yoshie-san. I barely slept last night and have been busy since morning. I’m just exhausted.”

“Then you should rest immediately after eating.”

“…For the next two days, I actually must not sleep. I need to look worn out.”

“Huh? Why?”

“For a commercial. I’m playing a husband devastated after losing the woman he loves.”

“You’re an actor too? Composer, producer… and actor?”

Her interest in Naoki suddenly increased. Nagashima Daitomo noticed immediately and became uneasy.

As an experienced manager who had guided many young idols, he knew romance was the greatest danger. Once idols fell in love, conflicts with agency plans followed, sometimes ending careers.

Naoki Nagayama was a talented composer, producer, actor, and still under twenty. Even with messy hair and dark circles, his exhausted good looks were dangerous for young girls.

Nagashima made a silent decision: he had to keep Yoshie away from this man.

He interrupted the conversation.

“Nagayama-kun, I heard you’re a fan of Seiko Matsuda. That song ‘Cherry Blossom’ was written for her, right?”

Everyone kept asking about that.

“Yes. Just inspiration at the time.”

“Oh… so you’re a fan of Seiko-san…” Yoshie’s mood dropped instantly.

Nagashima then repeatedly steered the conversation toward Naoki’s idols and female collaborators, gradually extinguishing the small admiration Yoshie had begun to feel.

He proudly drank a cup of shochu.

Then he coughed violently after choking on it.

Naoki was not oblivious. He sensed Nagashima’s intentions but felt relieved rather than bothered.

To him, Yoshie Kashiwabara was still a middle school student — basically a child. He had no interest. Besides, the idol style of the era favored round-faced cuteness, which was not his preference.

Lunch ended pleasantly. In the afternoon, Naoki brought the master tape to the studio, where Shuichi Ito was already waiting.

“Shuichi-san, the background music is finished. I brought it personally.”

Shuichi first examined Naoki’s appearance.

“You already look somewhat worn out. Don’t sleep today either.”

“…Yes… I never want to act again.”

“Haha, it can’t be helped. Professional actors can perform exhaustion through technique. Since we’re short on time, we must use this shortcut.”

The price of that shortcut: two days without sleep.

There was little to do in the studio that afternoon. Naoki grew increasingly restless until Ito finally said:

“Go out for a while. If you stay here longer, we’ll start arguing. But don’t go to temples or the red-light district to relax. We still need your performance tomorrow.”

Going home was impossible — the bed would defeat him. He could not visit Teacher Sachiko; he lacked the focus to study. The construction site had already been visited yesterday.

Friends? Nakai Genta was working. Hoshino Suzumi was studying. Daitomo-san was catching up on sleep.

He realized he hardly had any friends available.

With nowhere to go and unable to sleep, Naoki wandered Shibuya, drifting between arcades and street band performances.

That night he went to a nightclub in Roppongi, stayed until dawn, and headed straight to the studio.

The next morning, Shuichi Ito saw Naoki reeking of alcohol, eyes sunken and bloodshot, strangely energized.

“Naoki-san, where did you go yesterday? Did you take drugs?”

“I just came from a Roppongi nightclub.”

“You’re young, but you still need to take care of your body. The girls at nightclubs don’t just want your wallet.”

“Stop nagging. You were the one who told me not to sleep. And I didn’t call any girls.”

“Yes, yes. Go wash up first and calm yourself. Today’s scene requires real sorrow.”