HPDBC Chapter 93 Stray Cats
Chapter 93 Stray Cats
Chapter 93 Stray Cats
After leaving that place, Rie Miyazawa got into Shin Kitahara's car.
As soon as he got on the bus, Kitahara Shin pulled out his mobile phone and skillfully dialed a number.
"Hello, it's me."
"It's so late, I have something I wanted to talk to you about. And while I'm at it—I'll bring a friend over for you to meet."
Akina on the other end of the phone was clearly somewhat surprised.
But the tone didn't sound like a joke, so she hesitated for a moment before agreeing.
After hanging up the phone, a brief silence fell over the carriage.
Rie Miyazawa, nestled in the leather seat, held a carton of hot milk in her hands, which Shin Kitahara had bought for her when they passed by the convenience store earlier.
She looked absolutely terrible; her expensive dress was stained with dark red miso soup and oil, and her hair was a mess, like a bird's nest. She looked exactly like a stray cat that had just crawled out of a garbage dump.
"senior."
Rie took a sip of milk, her eyes darting between Kitahara Shin and Rie, a hint of curiosity in her voice, as if she were enjoying a good spectacle. "Are you planning to take me to meet your rumored girlfriend?"
After all, there has always been a lot of gossip about Kitahara Shin.
Kitahara Shin glanced at her sideways and put the cell phone back in his pocket.
Why do you say that?
"It's a woman's intuition, I guess." Rie swung her toes, trying to ease the tension from the "escape" with this lighthearted topic. "Besides, it's so late, if you bring a strange girl over, she'll probably be incredibly jealous."
"Don't worry about adult matters."
Kitahara Shin smiled, his tone calm, "This senior's experience is similar to yours, and she's even an expert in dealing with the messes of dysfunctional families. I think meeting her would be much more useful than listening to me lecture you."
"cut.
Rie puffed out her cheeks. "If you're afraid of being jealous, just say so—you're not that much older than me, why are you pretending to be so mature?"
Kitahara Shin did not refute, but looked at her with a half-smile.
Although his eyes didn't speak, they clearly said: What do you know, you little brat?
Rie understood that look in his eyes, and angrily bit down hard on the straw, squeezing the milk carton so hard it made a cracking sound, but she didn't dare to retaliate.
Twenty minutes later, in a luxury apartment building in the port area.
Kitahara Shin, leading a disheveled Miyazawa Rie, rang the doorbell.
The door opened.
Akina Nakamori was wearing a loose beige loungewear set, her hair casually tied back, no makeup on her face, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses, looking relaxed and at home.
She first glanced at Kitahara Shin, then her gaze fell on the girl next to her, who was covered in dirt and had her head down.
Akina paused for a moment.
As someone in the industry, she certainly recognized that face—Rie Miyazawa.
"So the friend you were talking about—is this the lady?"
Akina was somewhat surprised; she had originally thought it would be a producer or screenwriter in the industry.
"Um."
Kitahara Shin nodded. "She's run into some trouble, and I think you can help her."
Akina gave Kitahara Shin a meaningful look.
There was scrutiny, doubt, and amusement in his eyes.
Then, she smiled slightly and stepped aside to let the door open: "Please come in."
After entering the house, Akina didn't rush to ask questions, but instead pointed in the direction of the bathroom.
"The bathroom is over there, and the new towels and bathrobes are on the shelf. Let's wash this up first; it looks really uncomfortable."
"Thank you—thank you, senior."
Rie Miyazawa appeared quite reserved, even a little flustered. Faced with this national diva, all her bravado and cleverness vanished, and she obediently took her clothes and went into the bathroom.
As the sound of running water came from the bathroom, only the two people remained in the living room.
Akina walked to the bar in the open kitchen and poured two glasses of water.
"Sigh, they don't think of me when nothing's wrong, but they immediately know to come to me when something happens."
She pushed the water glass towards Kitahara Shin, her tone laced with a hint of sour sarcasm, "And she brought such a pretty young girl with her. Looks like I really do have Mr. Kitahara's trust; he's treating this place like a stray cat shelter?"
Kitahara Shin took the water glass, took a sip, and moistened his throat.
"This doesn't mean we're close. Besides you, I can't think of anyone else who could help her."
"snort."
Akina rolled her eyes at him, annoyed. "If you're so close to me, why haven't you come to see me lately? I haven't been that busy lately; I've been watching videotapes at home every night."
Kitahara Shin shrugged helplessly: "As you know, I've been filming director Itami's movie lately, and I'm being tortured by those veteran actors every day on set. But—"
He paused, looking into Akina's eyes. "It's not that I didn't want to come see you, it's just that I haven't decided what to ask you out to do yet. I can't exactly ask you to go eat ramen, can I?"
Akina paused for a moment.
Under the warm light of the living room lamp, the man's eyes were deep and honest. For a moment, her cheeks flushed.
"Ahem—okay, let's not talk about this anymore."
She turned her head away somewhat flusteredly, picked up a rag and wiped the already clean countertop. "Let's talk about serious matters. So why did you bring her to see me? What's her situation?"
Kitahara Shin put down his water glass and said seriously, "Her current situation is somewhat similar to yours before. Even worse."
Then, he briefly recounted what had happened that night, and the actions of Rie Miyazawa, his crazy mother.
As she listened, Akina stopped moving, her brows furrowing deeper and deeper.
She was all too familiar with that suffocating feeling of being treated like a cash cow by her closest relatives and forced to do things she didn't want to do.
"That mother—she's really insane."
Akina sighed, the jealousy in her eyes long gone, and she began to feel sorry for the young girl.
When she looked at Kitahara Shin again, her gaze softened considerably.
"I see."
Akina pondered for a moment, then nodded. "It's really not appropriate for you to get involved in this kind of thing. Even if you tell her, she might not listen. Leave it to me."
Twenty minutes later.
The sound of water in the bathroom stopped.
Rie Miyazawa emerged wearing one of Akina's oversized white T-shirts. Having washed away her disheveled appearance, she looked like an ordinary, somewhat anxious high school student.
She went into the living room, only to find that Kitahara Shin was gone.
Only Akina Nakamori was sitting on the sofa.
"S--senpai? Where's Kitahara-senpai?"
Rie subconsciously searched for that familiar figure; in this unfamiliar environment, Kitahara Shin was her only source of security.
"He had something to do and went out first."
Akina put down the magazine, patted the seat next to her, and said, "Don't be nervous, come and sit down, we can talk."
Rie hesitated for a moment, but still obediently walked over and sat down half a meter away from Akina, her back ramrod straight.
She was observing Akina.
This is the woman who was once knocked down, but rose again. That composed aura is what she most desires to possess now.
"How did you get to know that Kitahara guy?"
Akina broke the silence first.
"It was backstage at the TV station," Rie answered honestly. "My mom was scolding me and was about to hit me—then Kitahara-senpai passed by and helped me out."
"Oh."
Akina chuckled softly, "That guy really is a pushover."
"So, what are your plans after this?"
Akina turned her head, her beautiful eyes looking directly at Rie. "Do you want to completely retire from the entertainment industry and find somewhere to hide? Or are you going to continue struggling in that quagmire?"
This is a very pointed question.
Rie lowered her head, twisting the hem of her clothes with her fingers.
After a long while, she finally raised her head, her eyes revealing a clarity and determination beyond her years: "I want to have the power to shut her up."
"I don't believe in family ties anymore. In her eyes, I'm just a commodity. Since I'm a commodity, I have to make myself a rare and valuable commodity."
She bit her lip. "I don't have the ability to completely break ties with her right now. If I leave now, the breach of contract fees will crush me, and I won't be able to make a living. So I need leverage."
Upon hearing this, Akina's eyes lit up.
This child is smarter and more ruthless than I was back then.
"Champions?"
"Yes. As long as I'm famous enough, as long as I become irreplaceable, she won't dare to mess with me, let alone send me to work as a hostess."
Rie clenched her fist. "But I don't know what to do. I'm only good at making movies, and I'm not very good at acting either."
"Who says acting is the only path to success?"
Akina pointed to herself, "In today's entertainment industry, multi-talented development is all the rage. You have a great image and a good voice, why not try singing? Or go on variety shows?"
"Sing?"
"Yes. I can teach you, and I can even introduce you to good producers."
Akina's tone was very confident, "As long as you can gain a foothold on stage and build a fan base, acting opportunities will naturally come your way. Moreover, by then you will have your own connections and resources, and even if your mother wanted to do something to you, she would have to think twice."
Then, Akina began to tell her about the "unspoken rules" of surviving in this industry.
It's not about dirty deals, but about the wisdom of female artists on how to protect themselves and how to use the rules to fight back.
Rie listened intently.
No one ever taught her these things. Her mother only taught her how to please men and how to fake a smile. But Akina taught her how to earn money while standing up.
After being gently yet sharply lectured by Akina, Rie Miyazawa felt a warm glow in her heart.
The fear of "fighting alone" dissipated. It turned out that there really were people who had walked this path and made it out.
After some time, the doorbell rang again.
Kitahara Shin walked in carrying two large bags of takeout.
"Finished talking?"
He glanced at the two of them. Although Rie's eyes were a little red, she looked much more relaxed, unlike the little hedgehog who was about to explode at any moment.
"I bought some late-night snacks, let's eat some."
This late-night snack was very heartwarming.
Before leaving.
Downstairs at the apartment building.
Akina, wearing slippers, escorted her to the door.
"I've told her everything I needed to say."
She looked at Kitahara Shin, the night wind ruffling her hair. "The rest is up to you. If you encounter any trouble, or if you need my help, feel free to contact me."
"it is good."
Kitahara Shin nodded and smiled slightly at her. "Thank you, Akina."
This title made Akina's heart skip a beat.
She didn't say anything, but waved her hand somewhat frantically, turned around and ran into the stairwell.
Rie Miyazawa stood beside the car, watching this scene unfold.
She turned around and bowed deeply in the direction Akina had left.
For the first time, she saw the path of the future so clearly.
The desire to become stronger and to control her own destiny grew wildly in her heart.
It's 2 a.m. in a guest room of an apartment in the port area.
Rie stayed at Kitahara Nobu's house for one night.
She didn't go to sleep immediately. The unfamiliar bed and the faint smell of disinfectant in the air reminded her that she was now a homeless fugitive.
But she didn't feel desolate; instead, she felt an unprecedented excitement.
She walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked at the lights of Tokyo Tower outside. This was the first time she had faced this vast city alone without her mother's supervision.
"Scissors----"
She muttered to herself, recalling what Akina had just said.
She turned around and looked at herself in the mirror.
It was a face that hadn't fully matured yet, bare-faced, and still slightly damp from a recent shower.
"Is this my weapon?"
She stretched out her finger and poked her cheek in the mirror hard. "Then grind it faster."
She began to recall the vocal techniques that Akina had taught her.
You can't sing loudly, or you'll disturb the neighbors.
So she grabbed a cushion from the sofa and covered her face tightly.
"ah-!!"
She let out a desperate scream from inside the pillow. The sound was swallowed by the cotton, leaving only the violent vibrations in her throat. It was to release all the fear and grievances that had accumulated throughout the night, and also to practice her lung capacity.
A minute later, her face flushed, she threw the pillow aside, gasped for breath, and felt much of the frustration in her chest dissipate.
Next came breathing exercises.
Following Akina's instructions, she put her hands on her hips, felt the rise and fall of her abdomen, and tried to make a long and steady "hiss" sound.
"Hiss!"
Twenty seconds. Then it stopped.
"Too weak." Rie frowned, dissatisfied with herself.
Come again.
"hiss"
Thirty seconds.
She repeated this tedious movement over and over again until her abdominal muscles began to ache.
In this empty room, the faint hissing sound was like a snake shedding its skin, gathering new life force in the darkness.
After practicing her breathing, she stood back in front of the mirror.
This time it's about acting skills.
Kitahara Shin's words echoed in her mind: "Learn to be a broken product, and also learn to be a perfect con artist."
Rie closed her eyes and took a breath.
Three, two, one.
When she opened her eyes again, her face instantly displayed that signature, incredibly sweet "idol smile."
.
Her eyes curved into crescent moons, and the corners of her mouth turned up at a fifteen-degree angle. Innocent, naive, and full of vitality.
"This is Rie-chan, whom everyone loves." She sneered at herself in the mirror, her eyes icy cold.
The next second, the expression changed.
His eyes instantly became empty and dull, his lips drooped, and his whole person exuded a morbid and listless aura on the verge of a mental breakdown.
"This is—Rie-chan, who's going to see her lawyer tomorrow."
Another second.
Her eyes sharpened, her chin lifted slightly, exuding a cold and arrogant air that seemed to have seen through the ways of the world.
"This is—the real Rie Miyazawa."
She kept switching between the three masks in front of the mirror.
Laughter, tears, indifference.
Until her facial muscles were somewhat stiff, until she could precisely mobilize every muscle in a second, even if her heart was bleeding, she could still smile broadly.
"That's about it."
Rie picked up the bottled water on the table and took a sip. The icy water flowed down her throat, making her even more awake.
She pulled a brand new notebook out of her bag—she had bought it at the convenience store on her way back.
Turn to the first page.
Instead of writing in her diary, she picked up a pen and wrote three names heavily on it:
[Mitsuko Miyazawa] (crossed out, that's in the past) [Akina Nakamori] (circled, she's a role model) [Nobu Kitahara] (————)
She paused for a moment when she wrote the last name.
Finally, she drew a small, spiked crown next to that name.
"Just wait and see."
She closed the notebook and tucked it under her pillow.
She turned off the lamp and crawled into bed.
In the darkness, she was no longer afraid.
Because she knew that from tonight onwards, she was no longer anyone's daughter, nor anyone's commodity.
She is a hunter.
A hunter grinding his teeth.