Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 36 The Golden Screen: A False Feast

It was a suffocating white.

Hundreds of camera flashes went off simultaneously, illuminating the previously dimly lit "Peacock Hall" of the New Takanawa Prince Hotel with a blinding white light.

The sound of camera shutters clicking incessantly, a dense barrage of "clicks" like the rumbling thunder before a summer downpour, or like countless hungry locusts devouring the oxygen in the air.

It was exactly 2 PM.

All of Japan's attention was focused here.

In the very center of the hall, the legendary "golden screen" stood on the red carpet.

The screen, covered in pure gold leaf, refracted a dazzling and luxurious light under the spotlight. In the unspoken rules of the Japanese entertainment industry, this screen symbolizes marriage, the ultimate happy ending that countless female stars dream of.

But today, everyone knows perfectly well that this gleaming golden screen is actually a gorgeous fig leaf, a golden tomb that was prepared long ago to bury the dignity of a national diva.

"They're here!"

Someone shouted, and the previously noisy scene instantly erupted into chaos.

The side door opened, and a group of security personnel in black suits led the way. Immediately afterward, Toshihiko Kanai walked out with composed steps.

Today he wore a dark blue bespoke suit, his hair was neatly combed, and he wore that signature, slightly melancholic yet alluring "perfect smile" on his face.

Facing a barrage of flashing lights, he didn't flinch at all; instead, he waved frequently, as if this wasn't an apology ceremony but an awards ceremony celebrating his winning of a major award.

"Mr. Kanai! Look here!"

"I heard that you were the one who orchestrated today's press conference?"

"What would you like to say about Ms. Akina's impulsive behavior earlier?"

The reporters swarmed forward like sharks smelling blood.

Jin Jing stopped in front of the golden screen, pressing his hands down slightly to signal everyone to be quiet. His movements were elegant and graceful, displaying the demeanor of a top idol.

"Thank you all for your hard work. I am deeply sorry for the trouble caused to the community by the previous series of events. Today, Akina and I will clarify everything. Please give us some space."

After saying that, he turned to the side and, in an extremely gentlemanly manner, extended his hand behind him, making a "please" gesture.

All the cameras instantly turned to that dark side door passage.

After a few seconds of deathly silence, a pair of black high heels stepped into the light and shadow.

Akina Nakamori came out.

There was a moment of stillness at the scene.

The "madwoman" I had imagined—with a haggard face, crying and needing someone to help her—did not appear.

Standing there was a woman wearing a dark gray business suit.

The suit was impeccably tailored, without any superfluous embellishments; its sharp lines accentuated her slender yet upright figure. Her hair was simply styled in a bun, revealing her long, elegant neck.

Her face was lightly made up, but her lips were painted bright red, like a smear of blood that hadn't dried yet.

She did not bow.

No tears were shed.

He didn't even glance at the camera.

She was like a ghost who had wandered into the mortal world, or a Valkyrie about to go to the battlefield. She walked straight through the sea of ​​flashing lights, walked to the chair next to Jin Jing, and sat down.

His back was straight, and his hands were folded on his knees.

Between her fingers, a faint silver metallic sheen could be seen—it was the Zippo lighter she was clutching tightly.

Jin Jing's eyes twitched slightly as he looked at her cold and aloof demeanor.

This is quite different from the submissive puppet in his script.

But he quickly adjusted his expression, sat down next to her, and even considerately adjusted the height of the microphone for her.

"Alright, let's begin the press conference." The host—a well-known figure from Johnny & Associates—announced in a somber tone.

"First of all, regarding the incident where Ms. Akina attempted suicide in her apartment, there have been many false rumors circulating in society. Today, we would like to take this opportunity to ask Ms. Akina to explain the reasons herself."

As soon as he finished speaking, the "helper" reporter, who had been arranged beforehand, immediately stood up and asked the first highly leading question:

"Ms. Akina, I heard that you've been under a lot of work pressure lately, and your mental state has been unstable. You got stuck in a rut and did those foolish things. You even thought about ending your life. Is that true? Mr. Kanai, as your boyfriend, has been troubled by these emotions of yours?"

This is an extremely malicious question.

It directly attributes all the blame to Akina's "mental problems" while portraying Kanai as a "victim".

The entire room fell silent, waiting for that humble "yes".

Akina stared blankly at the reporter, saying nothing.

An awkward silence lasted for five seconds.

Seeing this, Jin Jing immediately took the microphone, sighed, and showed a look of heartache on his face:

"Let me explain. Akina... she is indeed a very delicate and sensitive girl. She loves me too much. Sometimes, loving too deeply makes her prone to overthinking and doing things that hurt herself. As a man, it pains me to see her like this."

As he spoke, he turned his head and looked at Akina with deep affection, his peach blossom eyes seemingly glistening with tears.

"But no matter what happens, I won't blame her. A man should be tolerant of his woman's willfulness. Even if she causes me a lot of trouble, I'm willing to walk with her and help her change her ways."

What a perfect speech.

Tolerant, generous, and responsible.

Several emotional female reporters at the scene even let out a sigh of emotion.

Jin Jing was secretly delighted.

He reached out to take Akina's hand, which was resting on her knee, while simultaneously gesturing to her with his eyes:

Your turn.

Cry.

Apologize.

Then, in front of the entire nation, he thanked me for my forgiveness.

However, just as his fingers were about to touch Akina's hand...

Akina withdrew her hand.

She slowly turned her head and looked at Jin Jing.

There was not a single tear in those eyes, nor the slightest fear.

There was only an extreme, almost indifferent look, as if looking at something dirty...

She looked at him as if he were a clown.

Just like that man taught her that late night—she silently counted to three in her mind.

One.

two.

three.

at the same time.

Five kilometers away, in a luxury apartment in the port area.

The curtains were drawn, and only the television screen flickered.

Kitahara Shin leaned back on the sofa, with the empty Zippo lighter on the coffee table.

On the screen, there was a huge close-up of Akina's eyes. It was a gaze that could send shivers down the spine of anyone with ulterior motives.

Kitahara Shin watched this scene, a slight smile playing on his lips, revealing a mixture of relief and satisfaction.

He picked up the remote and turned the volume up to the maximum.