An ice-melting kind of honesty

Kota-san continued to explain.

"At the meeting, besides the financier company, there was also the director and producer of the movie. The big shot who offers the money wants you to come along when the casting is made and when they have to decide on the setting and character apparel."

"What and what?! Are you serious?" I barked. This was truly something straight out of a nightmare.

"Very serious." Kota-san nodded, his serious gesture and expression feeling like a death sentence.

"But why me? I am simply an author. Did the production company actually agree to this nonsense?" I asked, clinging onto the last straw of hope. Surely, the producer and director wouldn't allow a simple novelist like me to call any shots.

"You might be surprised to know but they not only agreed, but even insisted on it. I don't know the exact relationship between the corporation that finances the movie and the production company, but it seemed that they had already discussed things between themselves before they approached us. They want you to be part of the early planning stage and it is one of the major conditions for the contract to be signed. This means that…"

Kota-san's words faded away and he stared at me quietly for a moment.

"It means that if I refuse, they will not buy the rights and make the movie, right?" I asked despondently.

"Precisely so."

After hearing Kota-san's final verdict, I slumped onto the sofa. My thoughts were in disarray, my emotions a complete mess. Dejection, sorrow and frustration swirled inside my chest, making it hard to breathe.

If they wanted me to take part in this planning, that meant I had to get out and meet so many people. I had to be surrounded by strangers whose thoughts I was in danger of hearing at almost every step.

For a moment, I felt a sudden nausea rising in my throat.

Seeing me like this, Kota-san leaned closer and placed his hand on my shoulder.

"It's alright. They told us to think about it and give a reply in a few days." He said softly.

The touch of his hand was gentle and it felt warm, but it made my body shudder when his thoughts flooded inside my mind.

'Keita, I am sorry I couldn't protect you more.'

"No… It's alright." I gasped, barely keeping my emotions from bursting out. "Kota-san has done so much for me already. Thank you."

"Stop saying thank you with such a painful expression. We're friends after all." he replied, a sad smile blooming on his face.

Soon afterwards Kota-san left, saying he had another client to meet. Right before he left, he didn't press me for an answer. Instead, he just said to take my time and think about it and when I have an answer to give him a call.

The rest of the day ended in a blur. There was no way for me to write and I couldn't focus on reading either. Therefore, I curled up in my bed with Fukuharu in my arms and drifted to sleep.

The next day, Kurosawa-san came to visit.

His hyped personality highly contrasted with my gloomy appearance. Despite going to bed very early the previous night, I couldn't sleep well. I kept tossing and turning that even Fukuharu marked me as a lost cause and left for the comfort of the sofa. At least there nobody could squish him to death like I had nearly done several times in my restless sleep.

Consequently, I had dark bags under my eyes and a foul mood.

Afraid he might step on a landmine and get himself thrown out, Kurosawa-san was unusually quiet during lunch. Noticing his abnormal behavior made me feel slightly guilty. Surely, it wasn't easy for a chatty guy like him to keep himself quiet like this.

Thus, I decided to tell him about Kota-san's news regarding the movie production. Of course, as my editor, he already knew about the movie being under discussion, but the part where I was supposed to be involved in the initial planning process was a huge surprise.

"Wow! Masato-sensei, that is really awesome!" He cried out in excitement.

"What is so awesome about having to meet a bunch of strangers when I can hardly tolerate one human being such as yourself?!" I threw at him in a bitingly cold tone.

"True, having to interact with so many people might be an inconvenience, especially with your circumstances." Kurosawa-san said, slightly deflated.

However, he managed to bounce back the next instant with an even greater enthusiasm.

"But Masato-sensei, think about it this way. If you take part in the initial planning, you can make sure that your story will be brought to life exactly the way you wanted. Isn't that amazing?"

Well, he was right about that.

Leaving aside my personal issues, being able to take part in the character design, casting, choosing the best locations for filming and all other little details was indeed something to be excited about.

Furthermore, it wasn't every day that a big corporation and production company would allow an author, who doesn't know squat about movie production, to take part in their planning activities.

"Well, at least you are excited for the both of us." I sighed deeply.

"Then what are you going to do, Masato-sensei?" Kurosawa-san asked, his eyes blazing with enthusiasm.

"What else can I do? I will accept their condition and take part in the initial planning phase. After all, I really want to see my story being brought to life."

"En! Masato-sensei, all your stories deserve to be brought to the big screen." Kurosawa-san jumped up from his seat and grabbed both my hands in his.

"Now, you s-stop right there. I d-don't think I can do this k-kind of thing for every one of my books." I stuttered slightly, while trying to pull my hands from his grasp.

But he stubbornly kept holding them tightly, refusing to let go no matter what. Then, he pulled me closer and our noses almost bumped against each other.

"Masato-sensei, since you can hear the thoughts of those you touch, then you know that I am now being very honest when I say that your books are amazing. They deserve to be brought to life so that more and more people read them. Therefore, you will do great and the movie will be a resounding success."

Hearing this fervent declaration, I could only gape at him in astonishment. Truly, he was one of a kind; honest, blunt and passionate about everything he says and does. And like always, there was silence inside my mind. His fingers warmed my hands, but his thoughts remained silent.

Did that mean he really meant what he said or was there really another reason why I couldn't hear him?

For the first time, I found myself wanting to hear something from his inner thoughts. Anything would do, whether it was good or bad. Oddly enough, it made me confused and sad that he was the only person I couldn't hear.