Chapter 30
The autumn campus is ignited by the enthusiasm on the eve of the cultural festival.
The golden ginkgo leaves drifted down, but they couldn't dampen the clamor and energy that surged through the air. The corridors of the teaching buildings were covered in colorful posters, and various classes and clubs were busy setting up booths and rehearsing their performances. The sound of laughter and joy dispelled the bleak autumn breeze.
President Sato popped his head into the photography club's activity room. "Kiriyama! Quick, the student council is calling an emergency meeting about the cultural festival's highlight, a joint play between the tennis club and the drama club! They've specifically asked for someone from the photography club, and you come with me!"
I put down the camera in my hand and was pulled out of the activity room somewhat helplessly.
President Sato walked briskly while enthusiastically explaining to me, "We've invested heavily in this production of 'Romeo and Juliet.' With the popular players on the tennis team and the professional background of the drama club, the school is counting on winning the Best Performance Award!"
"I heard that besides our photography club being there to film and document the entire event, the music club will be providing the music, the makeup club will be creating retro makeup looks, and the crafts club will be helping with props and set design...it's going to be a huge event!"
Pushing open the heavy door of the student union meeting room, a wave of heat mixed with various smells hit me in the face.
As expected, the place was bustling with people, and was filled with elites from various societies.
At the head of the long conference table, Atobe, meticulously dressed in his Hyotei suit, gazed down at the documents in his hands, exuding a calm aura of control. An invisible pressure cast a solemn veil over the entire conference room.
President Sato and I quickly found two empty seats in the corner near the door and sat down, trying to reduce our presence.
The meeting officially begins.
Drama Club President Misaki Yamamoto stood up.
Her makeup was exquisite, her face radiant and bright, and her long, curly chestnut hair was meticulously styled. Holding a laser pointer, she spoke eloquently about the stage design and procedures on the projection screen. Her voice was clear and melodious, her logic clear and organized, and her professionalism was fully displayed.
It is undoubtedly one of the highlights of the whole audience.
President Sato came closer to me, shielding his mouth with his hand, and lowered his voice, his voice thick with gossip: "Did you see that? Yamamoto Misaki, the daughter of the Yamamoto Group, is a family friend of the Atobe family!"
"Everyone in school is saying that she's the most likely candidate to marry Atobe. Her family background, looks, and talent are all top-notch! And," he winked, "she's also a die-hard fan of Atobe! To be able to play Juliet this time, opposite her 'Romeo', wow, she's definitely trying her best to amaze the audience..."
As I listened to President Sato's "inside news," my gaze subconsciously drifted to Atobe, who sat at the main table. He was listening to Yamamoto's explanation, his profile stern and emotionless.
Misaki Yamamoto is indeed dazzling, like a carefully polished diamond.
They have similar family backgrounds, are both talented and beautiful, and are fans. It sounds like they are a match made in heaven.
"...Therefore, the stage lighting and camera angles, especially the close-up capture of key emotional scenes, are crucial." Yamamoto Misaki finished her speech, and her eyes swept across the audience, finally falling back on Atobe, asking a question.
Atobe nodded slightly, picked up the roster in front of him, and began to make specific personnel arrangements. His voice was low and clear, with unquestionable decisiveness. When he named a club, the person in charge immediately responded.
"Photography Club." Atobe's cold voice sounded.
I was immersed in the subtle emotions brought about by President Sato's gossip and Yamamoto Misaki's dazzling brilliance, and I didn't react for a while.
"Photography Club!" President Sato immediately nudged me with his elbow, then stood up with a booming voice, "Here we are! The Photography Club promises to complete the mission!"
He reacted quickly, pointing at me immediately and recommending me with an unquestionable tone, "Our company's ace, Kiriyama Hakure! She will be responsible for the official photography record of the entire stage play."
"Kiyama's ability to compose and capture moments is absolutely top-notch! Leave it to her, Chief, you can rest assured!"
I instantly became the focus of the conference room, with countless eyes focused on me, making my scalp tighten.
However, before I could say anything, the photography club's vice-president, Kitajima Hiroyuki, stood up with a bright smile on his face and added in a booming voice, "That's right! Captain Atobe, President Yamamoto! Kiriyama-san's skills and aesthetics are truly amazing!"
"The light and shadow portraits she captured for the tennis club's last Kanto tournament won silver at the Kanto Student Photography Exhibition! She's incredibly dedicated and easy to work with, making her a fantastic choice to work with!"
"I...we all have great confidence in our senior's abilities!" Bei Dao's tone was filled with undisguised admiration and love, and his obvious enthusiasm almost overflowed the conference room.
A few good-natured chuckles and whispers instantly filled the conference room.
I sat there, my cheeks suddenly burning, and I was so embarrassed that I wanted to find a hole to crawl into.
Brother, just praise me, why add so many subjective adjectives?
Especially the sentence "He is very easy to get along with" and those sparkling eyes, the intention is too obvious.
I sat stiffly in my chair, head down, twisting the corners of my clothes with my fingers, praying that the meeting would be over soon.
Atobe Keigo's gaze finally fell on me.
He glanced at Kitajima Hiroyuki, who was still excitedly praising me. His eyes were as sharp as a knife, carrying an invisible, suffocating sense of oppression. The temperature in the entire conference room seemed to drop a few degrees because of his glance.
"Very good." Atobe's voice sounded, deeper and colder than before, with a metallic quality that clearly drowned out all the small discussions. "Then, let's take care of the official photography record of the entire stage play."
His eyes were fixed on me, and every word he spoke was like a verdict, unquestionable, "The entire responsibility will be vested in Kiriyamagakure."
He emphasized my name deliberately, and it gave me a chill down my spine.
"Everyone else," he said, his gaze swept coldly over Kitajima and President Sato, finally landing on Yamamoto Misaki's face. His tone returned to a businesslike calm, "please fully cooperate with the work needs of Kiriyama Photographer. The meeting is adjourned."
The two words "dismissal" are like a pardon.
I almost took off, grabbed my things, and before anyone could react, I rushed out of the meeting room like a gust of wind, escaping from the suffocating embarrassment.
Behind him, he could faintly hear Misaki Yamamoto's voice, with a perfect smile but no emotion: "Kiriyama-san is really... popular."
And Kitajima Hiroyuki muttered with a bit of loss and confusion: "Why is Kiriyama-san running so fast..."
The cool air in the hallway allowed me to breathe a little, but my heart was still pounding in my chest.
It was so embarrassing that I almost dug my toes into the Disney Dream Castle.
The joint rehearsals of the tennis club and the drama club were in full swing, taking up almost all the time after school, and even the weekends were not spared.
In the vast auditorium of Hyotei Academy, the lights were on all night long, and the sound of lines, footsteps, and the director's instructions blended into one. During this busy week, that familiar, flowery ringtone of the incoming phone call never rang again.
At first, there was indeed an indescribable, extremely subtle feeling of discomfort that passed through my heart.
It was as if a fixed, invisible, oppressive metronome in my life had suddenly stopped beating. But soon, this slight feeling of strangeness was overwhelmed by a huge sense of relief.
On Friday evening, the club activities ended earlier than usual.
I walked out of the school gate carrying a heavy camera bag, and the setting sun made my shadow very long.
As soon as I arrived at the door, the phone in my pocket vibrated without warning. The name that popped up on the screen was that of the person I hadn't seen for a week.
【Atobe Keigo】
The moment his fingertips brushed across the screen, that deep, gorgeous voice came through the receiver, with his usual unquestionable simplicity: "Tomorrow morning at 9:00, Atobe Manor. Stills shoot for the stage play, both solo and duo. On time."
Without even a word of greeting, he gave the order directly.
"Yes, President." I replied, my voice calm and composed.
On Saturday morning, I changed into a set of dark casual clothes that were easy to move around in, and opened the door with my fully equipped camera bag on my back.
Unexpectedly, yet seemingly within reason, a black sedan with smooth lines and low-key luxury, like a silent gentleman, was parked quietly on the roadside in front of the door.
The driver, dressed in a neat uniform, respectfully opened the car door for you: "Ms. Wushan, the young master asked me to pick you up."
The car drove smoothly towards the vast estate of the Atobe family. As we stepped into the castle-like main house, the bustling atmosphere of the rehearsal space hit us.
In the spacious photography area that was temporarily opened up, lighting stands, reflectors, and background curtains have been arranged by a professional team of housekeepers.
The elites of the makeup club were surrounding several leading actors to put the final touches on their hair and makeup, while the students of the handicraft club were carefully arranging those gorgeous and intricate antique costumes embellished with beads.
Taking a deep breath, I quickly got into work mode. After a brief communication with several members of the photography club who arrived early, I plunged into the intense and orderly lighting debugging and scene arrangement.
"Make the main light source softer, offset reflector group B 15 degrees to the left, and pay attention to eliminating the shadow on the actor's jaw." I gave instructions clearly and sharply, scanning every detail in the viewfinder.
The old butler of the Atobe family, the old man who always had a decent smile and impeccable manners, stood quietly by.
Whenever I made a request, he would nod slightly and with a gesture, his well-trained subordinates would execute it silently and efficiently, as precisely as the gears of a clock.
This smooth collaboration allowed me to focus on the world in front of the camera.
"Butler," Yamamoto Misaki's voice sounded with a hint of sweet inquiry. She had changed into a gorgeous Juliet dress, which was extremely bright and beautiful. Her eyes were fixed on the interaction between me and the butler. "Kiriyama-san seems very familiar with this place. His instructions are very smooth."
The old butler bowed slightly, his smile humble but flawless: "Miss Yamamoto, you are too kind."
"Ms. Kiriyama is the photographer appointed by the young master himself. Her professional abilities are admirable. It is the duty of the Atobe family to ensure that every distinguished guest, especially those with important responsibilities, can complete their work in the most comfortable and efficient environment."
He cleverly attributed the credit to Atobe's appointment, while emphasizing the core of Atobe's family service and avoiding any personal connections that might cause misunderstanding.
Upon hearing this, Yamamoto Misaki still had a bright smile on her face, but her beautiful almond-shaped eyes stayed on me for a second longer, and the scrutiny in her eyes deepened.
The shoot of the individual stills went exceptionally smoothly.
Whether it was Romeo, played by Keigo Atobe, wearing a deep blue velvet gown embellished with silver thread, or Misaki Yamamoto, wearing an ivory gown adorned with pearls and lace, both shone brilliantly under the carefully designed lighting. The camera captured the moments when each of them immersed themselves in their roles.
Atobe's aloof nobility interweaves with Romeo's fiery emotions, while Yamamoto's vibrant and lively performance perfectly interprets Juliet's innocence and passion. Every frame is as exquisite and moving as a classical oil painting.
"Amazing!" President Sato murmured in admiration. "As expected of an ace! The lighting and composition are incredible!"
Kitajima Hiroyuki also nodded vigorously, following my busy figure with bright eyes.
Finally, it’s time for the most crucial couple still – the moment when Romeo and Juliet fall in love.
The two, dressed in gorgeous costumes, stood before a carefully arranged backdrop that simulated a moonlit balcony. Atobe stood tall and straight, Yamamoto graceful and elegant; the scene itself was pleasing enough to the eye.
However, as I gazed at them through the viewfinder, my brow furrowed slightly.
A subtle sense of distance" permeated between the two.
It's not physical distance, but some kind of invisible barrier.
Misaki Yamamoto tried hard to get close to Atobe, with the shyness and admiration that Juliet should have on her face, but Atobe's body lines seemed unusually stiff, as if being pulled by invisible threads, unable to truly relax and devote herself to this "love".
"Very good... keep it up..." I tried to guide, "But..." I chose my words carefully, trying to use a professional tone.
"You're lovers, enamored with each other, ready to reveal your true feelings. How about getting a little closer? Let that intimacy flow more naturally?"
As the words fell, the air seemed to freeze for a moment.
The smile on Yamamoto Misaki's face was still perfect, and her body moved closer to Atobe, almost snuggling in his arms.
However, instead of relaxing, the stiffness in Atobe's body became even more pronounced. A faint, almost imperceptible hint of impatience crossed his handsome brows, and his thin lips pursed even tighter.
I noticed this anomaly, and to lighten the mood and break the awkward situation, I half-jokingly said to Atobe in a relaxed tone, "Atobe-kun, are you a little nervous because President Yamamoto looks so beautiful as Juliet?"
This was originally a harmless joke, which is very common on the set.
However, the expected relaxed atmosphere did not emerge.
Atobe's eyes penetrated the distance of the camera lens and pierced straight into me. They were as sharp as ice spikes, carrying a sense of offense and a complex emotion that was difficult to understand.
The temperature in the entire photography area seemed to have dropped by several degrees, and even the students holding reflectors subconsciously shrank their necks.
The smile on Yamamoto Misaki's face froze slightly, then quickly recovered, but the sharp light in the depths of her eyes flashed again.
"Misty Mountain Photographer," a deep voice sounded, with a decisive and hard tone, clearly echoing in the silent photography area, "Romeo and Juliet are lovers."
The words were abrupt and strange, like a piece of ice thrown into the water.
Aren't they actually wearing Romeo and Juliet costumes right now? What does he mean by that? Is he emphasizing the boundaries of their roles?
The atmosphere instantly became strange and tense. Yamamoto Misaki's fingers, which were holding onto Atobe's arm, tightened slightly, their knuckles turning white.
At this moment, Yuushi Oshitari, who had been watching with his arms folded and wearing rimless glasses, raised the corner of his mouth in a knowing and slightly playful arc.
He walked forward slowly, his eyes behind his glasses flickering between Atobe's tense profile and my confused expression. Then he spoke in his unique, magnetic Kansai accent. His voice was not loud, but it was loud enough for the core group present to hear clearly:
"Hey, Atobe. What Kiriyama-san means is that as 'Romeo', in front of the camera, you need to put the beautiful Miss 'Juliet' opposite you," he paused deliberately, with a mischievous smile in his eyes behind the lens.
"Only by imagining yourself as your true love can you pour out your passionate emotions. Isn't that what acting is all about?"
Inuzuka's words were like a stone thrown into stagnant water, but also like a precise catalyst.
It seemed as if these words had touched upon a crucial point in Tezuka's mind. Deep within his icy eyes, a trace of extremely intense emotional fluctuations flashed across his body, so fast that it was impossible to grasp.
Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, the stiffness that had enveloped him had miraculously faded away.
Although there was still the pride of Atobe between his brows, when he looked at Yamamoto Misaki beside him again, an unprecedented concentration and deep light settled in the depths of his eyes.
It was not a deliberately created affection, but more like a restrained and powerful emotional projection.
Misaki Yamamoto keenly captured the change in his aura. Although she was filled with surprise and a subtle pain at Osamu's words and Atobe's sudden transformation, her qualities as a professional actor immediately prevailed.
She quickly adjusted herself and completely immersed herself in the role of Juliet, looking up at Atobe with eyes full of pure admiration and love.
"Okay! This is it! Keep it!" I immediately captured this fleeting, dramatic and perfect moment, and pressed the shutter without hesitation.
The crisp sound of shutter clicks rang out, like the notes that broke the spell.
The subsequent shooting suddenly became extremely smooth.
Keigo Atobe seems to have completely entered Romeo's soul, his every move a perfect blend of aristocratic elegance and the fervor of passionate love. His interactions with Misaki Yamamoto are full of tension and tacit understanding, and every glance and touch of fingertips is filled with the emotional intensity required for drama.
I threw myself into the shot, constantly adjusting the angle to capture these fleeting, emotion-filled moments.
When the last set of shots was completed, I put down the camera and announced "OK", and the tense atmosphere in the photography area finally relaxed completely, and an imperceptible exhalation was heard.
Yamamoto Misaki had a perfect smile on her face and politely thanked everyone. When her eyes swept over me, there was a hint of inquiry and deeper meaning.
Atobe regained his usual arrogant demeanor. He took off his complicated costume jacket and handed it to the butler. His eyes seemed to glance over casually, lingering on the camera in my hand for a moment, then moved away without saying anything more.
The night outside the window was dark, with only a small patch of warm yellow light from the desk lamp.
I was staring intently at the computer screen, my fingertips sliding across the digital tablet, finely adjusting the lighting and shadows of the stills taken at the Atobe Manor during the day.
In the photo, Yamamoto Misaki, wearing a gorgeous antique dress, is indeed stunningly beautiful. The lighting outlines her superior figure, especially the white Juliet dress, which makes her look even more...
The phone screen lit up without warning, accompanied by a unique, highly recognizable and gorgeous ringtone, which seemed particularly abrupt in the quiet room.
【Atobe Keigo】
My heart skipped a beat.
I don't know why, but today's familiar ringtone brought a strange sense of nervousness. I took a deep breath and answered.
"Hello? Atobe?"
"Kirishama." His deep, gorgeous voice came through the receiver, with the background of the empty silence unique to the Atobe family. "Are you still busy so late?"
"Yeah, I'm retouching the daytime stills." I told the truth, my eyes still fixed on Yamamoto's bright face on the screen.
There was silence on the other end of the line for two seconds, as if the air was frozen. Then, his voice rang out again, carrying an indescribable tone of inquiry.
"Last week," he began, his tone steady but as if stating a fact that couldn't be ignored, "you didn't call me."
I was stunned for a moment, and the hand holding the mouse stopped.
Is this a question to me?
"Huh?" I was a little confused. "Because... you guys seem very busy rehearsing, often staying up late. And..."
I chose my words carefully, feeling a little strange. "It seems like you usually call more often?"
I'm telling the truth. With his personality that allows him to take control of the overall situation, it's normal for him to take the initiative to contact people.
There was another brief silence on the other end of the line. This time, I seemed to detect a subtle, almost imperceptible tinge of dissatisfaction. Or perhaps, a complaint?
"Busy?" He snorted softly, his voice carrying a hint of metallic coldness through the receiver. "Being busy isn't an excuse. As the key recorder of the stage play, isn't it your responsibility to report progress and communicate details at all times?"
This hat was put on a bit suddenly.
I opened my mouth, unsure how to respond. I had a feeling there was something else behind his words, but I couldn't quite place it.
"I've been busy shooting materials for other cultural festivals and retouching photos recently..." I tried to explain, my voice unconsciously lowering.
"Busy filming?" he pressed, his voice quickening with a subtle urgency. "Besides stills, what else are you filming? And with whom?"
"It's just... club activities, class booths and things like that..." I was confused by his question, and my mouse unconsciously slid across the screen, and I happened to click on a close-up of Misaki Yamamoto.
In the photo, she has a bright smile and a graceful figure, and with the careful lighting, the advantages of her figure are fully displayed.
Perhaps moved by the image in the photo, or perhaps to ease the awkwardness of his relentless pressure, I subconsciously sighed, with a touch of pure appreciation for a work of art: "Come to think of it, President Yamamoto looks truly stunning in that Juliet gown, and her figure is incredibly well-proportioned..."
I paused, searching for a more euphemistic word, "Hmm...very full-bodied, the camera is very expressive."
As soon as I said it, I felt a little regretful.
This...seems a bit inappropriate?
There was a moment of dead silence on the other end of the phone.
The silence was heavy, like a piece of ice, quickly freezing all the sounds on both ends of the phone line. I could even imagine him frowning slightly and his eyes suddenly turning cold.
really.
"Kiyama." His voice suddenly rose a notch, cold and serious, with a decisive denial that clearly hit my ears, "I don't like that type."
“…” I was completely speechless, and the vines of embarrassment instantly wrapped around me.
I was just commenting on the subject! Isn't his reaction so weird?
What do you mean by "I don't like that type"? Who asked him if he liked it?!
The air was stagnant and suffocating. I gripped my phone, my fingertips cold, wishing I could turn back time and take back what I had just said.
At this awkward moment, another voice faintly came from the other end of the phone. It was the old butler of the Atobe family, respectful and with just the right amount of urgency:
"Master, I'm sorry to interrupt you. This is about Miss Yamamoto's dress for her performance. We've double-checked the size, and it seems... to be a bit small. I'm afraid the wearing effect and comfort... will not be ideal."
"But Miss Yamamoto insisted on wearing that one, thinking it would be the best. Look at this..."
This was like a life-saving straw from heaven. I held my breath and prayed that Atobe would quickly get back to work.
On the other end of the line, Atobe seemed to have his train of thought interrupted and remained silent for a few seconds. I could sense his displeasure at being interrupted, the cold, low pressure seeming to transmit through the microphone.
He probably glanced at the butler, or perhaps just frowned impatiently.
"Dress?" His voice had returned to its usual stern tone, but with a hint of annoyance at being interrupted. His tone was almost perfunctory. "Since she said it's okay, then let her do it."
"But, Master..." The butler seemed to want to say something.
"That's it." Atobe's voice, with its undeniable finality, drowned out the butler's unfinished words. Then, his voice returned clearly to the microphone, still without warmth, "Kiriyama, process the photos as soon as possible. Also,"
He paused, as if weighing his words, and ultimately gave a commanding instruction: "Focus on your work. Don't worry about other unimportant things."
“…I understand.” I replied sullenly.
“Beep…beep…beep…”
The phone was hung up crisply.
The only sounds in the room were the gentle hum of the computer fan and my own slightly rapid heartbeat. I stared at the darkened screen of my phone, motionless for a long moment.
The phone call just now contained too much information and the emotions were like a roller coaster ride.
Why did he suddenly care whether I called or not? His questioning tone was completely inexplicable.
Also, why did he react so strongly when I praised Yamamoto's figure? His resolute "I don't like that type" seemed like he was trying to distance himself from something, which only made him seem more evasive.
I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of these chaotic thoughts. My eyes returned to the computer screen, fixed on the radiant photo of Yamamoto Misaki.
"Focus on your work..." I murmured, repeating Atobe's last command, and my fingertips returned to the tablet.
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