Politeness, sure, it’s a virtue, but kindness is something you need to keep when others see you around the studio and try to talk, on your way to work, tired and burnt at the ends. It was a blessing, then, this life I’d undertook, where I didn’t have to talk to anyone at all.
Well, one contact. Sure, I’d never seen a man quite so strange, like he was more suited to a back role in a celebrity’s life than such a business. Short, too, with vibrant brown eyes that took up half his face when he leaned the right way, if not for the hair that fell over them. My face was too close-knit, too focused, never something that people wanted to linger on for long.
“Uchida!!” he called, and it got me with a start—he must’ve been part of the Yakuza or worse, then, if he knew that about me. My life had cut me down to size, smoothed me out so that I didn’t have barbs to latch onto things with anymore. There was no way to fight it, then, if he knew what about me had made me become so small.