Work, Suzuki
A hotel in Kyoto.
I had taken a room near Daisho headquarters — two beds, a place where my brother and I could both sleep.
More market research would have been better...
I had hurried back because I needed to take Jo Sudeok's call. If a man was sure enough of himself to boast he would find someone in no time, then—
Maybe I was allowed to hope?
There still seemed to be time to spare. I had showered and was just stepping out when the phone on the nightstand began to ring its heart out.
Rrriiiing!
Already? Surely not.
I snatched up the receiver, and sure enough a familiar voice came down the line.
"President, I found him, but..."
If the job had gone well, that signature blend of tease and swagger would have leapt out at once.
"Why? What happened?"
"I inquired at the publisher, and they confirmed that a student named Suzuki had done background work for them now and then. His most recent job, they said, was six months ago."
"And?"
"I asked for his number so I could get in touch, and they dug in their heels."
"...?"
"They told me they couldn't hand over personal information without the man's consent. So I explained that I was someone whose identity was beyond doubt, a professor working in Korea, and that our president runs a considerable enterprise in America..."
"And they still refused."
"Yes. So I asked them to telephone him themselves, explain the situation, and beg his leave. The publisher said they have trouble reaching him too. From what I hear, unless he needs money, he unplugs the line entirely..."
Suzuki Yoshihiro.
The man who would land hit after hit with Spirit Detective and Insect vs. Hunter, famous as a lazy genius. Famous enough that a meme would one day spring up around him: Work, Suzuki.
If he had not been any good, the world would have shrugged and let him fall away. But I had seen the "Ant" episode of Insect vs. Hunter, and I had thrown up both hands and both feet. The man was a genius. Truly.
So what choice did I have? Lazy or not, I would simply have to fix him — question mark — and put him to use.
Anyway.
He pulls the phone line because he doesn't feel like working?
Utterly Suzuki. A small smile found my mouth.
"So how did it end?"
"They placed the call right in front of me. And wouldn't you know it, he truly didn't answer. After that, well, even I had nothing left to say."
"Are you in Tokyo now?"
"Yes. I'm near the Mideumsa offices."
"I'll be there early tomorrow morning. We'll meet then."
"President, I can go myself, but..."
"I have business in Tokyo."
"...Yes?"
My mind was made up. I told Jo Sudeok as much.
"Arriving at eight in the morning. Will that do?"
"Then I've a great deal of time left today..."
"Since it's come to this, do a little sightseeing. Even the kind you hate."
"Sightseeing...?"
"Come on. How can you go through life doing only pleasant things?"
"Ah, of course. Life is... one does the unpleasant things as well, and so on, I suppose?"
"Use the company card. Eat something good."
"My digestion isn't what it should be..."
"Then have it with a good drink."
"Aigoo. So there was a method like that..."
The short call ended there.
Hmm.
Thanks to Suzuki, it looked as if I would be paying Mideumsa a visit after all.
This might be fun.
In the window glass, I watched the corner of my own mouth lift.
Meanwhile, in Tokyo, Suzuki was on a date with a thoroughly blank face, and his girlfriend Naoko was keenly sensitive to that expression.
"What is it now?"
"Nothing. It's nothing."
"You say that, but it isn't."
"We see each other exactly once a week. Can't you give yourself to me completely, just for today?"
"I am giving myself."
He said so. And yet.
"......"
If the date had been pushed back by two hours exactly — no more, no less — he would have seen the ending. But how was he supposed to tell his girlfriend a thing like that?
Tsk.
All Suzuki could do was click his tongue at the regret, alone.
"Why aren't you drawing these days?"
The profession for it did not exist yet.
"Ugh. If you're not going to draw, then at least listen to the story I came up with."
At that, Suzuki tipped his head.
"Why? A pharmacist isn't allowed to draw?"
"It's not that."
Suzuki swallowed the words that had climbed as far as his throat and waited for Naoko to go on.
"I'm entering it in a contest. It's about girls joining forces to take down a villain."
A long-winded explanation followed. Suzuki very nearly yawned in front of his girlfriend. He only just held the yawn in; the boredom, he advertised freely.
"What? What's the problem now?"
"Just... the story feels too ordinary."
"Stories about beating up villains are all the same thing, aren't they?"
Naoko whipped her head aside as if she had been slighted.
What could he do? A sorry boyfriend who had shown up late to a date had no choice but to smooth it over.
"Still, with a little work, I think it could be usable."
"......"
"The leads would be better as students than as adults. And if we're doing it, they ought to wear sailor uniforms."
"What is that? You want them to catch villains in skirts?"
"In the name of justice, I will not forgive you! Girls who fight by borrowing the power of the moon! Stretch the stage across the solar system — Mars, Jupiter, Venus..."
"Enough. It's not fun."
Not fun, she said. It was miles better than the story she had just told him.
After that the two of them walked the park with hardly a word between them. To anyone else it might have been an ordinary stroll. To Suzuki it was nothing short of a kind of battle — question mark and all.
Woozy.
Perhaps because he was seeing sunlight for the first time in ages, his head spun hard enough to reel. The semester was about to start, and he could not skip their once-a-week date...
If I'm going to save my strength, maybe I should just drop out.
Ugh.
In any case, unable to endure the dizziness, Suzuki caught his girlfriend by the shoulder.
"Hey. Let's go inside somewhere."
"Why? Your head again?"
"I can't take it. I need to rest before we go on."
When an ordinary man suggested they rest a while, it was usually the opening move of some funny business.
"Want to go to a motel, then?"
"No. The nearest arcade... hurry..."
"Do I even look like a woman to you?"
What a hurtful thing to say. He had plenty he wanted to answer.
But he only scurried. Suzuki hurried his steps, fleeing the sun.
That night my brother did not return to the hotel until past eleven. I had heard that Hideo meant to bring him back himself, and even so I had not expected it to be this late.
He trudged in and collapsed onto the bed at once, as if he were spent. I thought he had gone straight to sleep. Then, with a groan, he heaved his heavy body up.
"Jihun."
Why was he dropping his voice like a man with something grave to confess? He went on, carefully.
"I think I understand your heart a little."
"...?"
"No. Never mind."
He seemed to debate simply lying back down, then turned toward me again.
"The fear that you might not hit the target presses down on your shoulders, and then, before you know it, you're completely seized by the joy of doing your own work. Like shuttling back and forth between a cold plunge and a hot bath."
"You'll catch a cold that way."
At that my brother let out a short laugh.
"You've been living this life for years."
"......"
"I may be the older brother, but... that part of you, I truly respect. Sincerely."
My brother was only just sixteen. I had lived more than twice that, thank you very much.
Still, it feels good.
Watching a brother so much younger than I was shoot up like that was more entertaining than I had expected.
He, meanwhile, seemed to think the mood had sunk because of him. Perhaps that was why he changed the subject at once.
"Working alongside a master is a real pleasure."
"Mr. Hideo?"
"Yeah. He taught me a great deal, and very carefully."
Well, that was why I had given him the equity. Ahem.
A moment ago my brother had been worn thin with fatigue. Now his face was lost in rapture.
Heh. Was it really that good?
"It is."
Soon he drew a college notebook from his suitcase. New, by the look of it — the word Kyoto was written large across the first page.
"Where was it... just a second."
He flipped through in earnest. And what do you know. How was a notebook bought today already this packed? It was no illusion; he had filled at least thirty pages. Perhaps he read my look. A little shy, he said most of it was notes from Mr. Hideo's lecture.
"Can I look?"
"Of course."
The first page. The very first line. He had set the sentence that followed down in red.
Where imagination is concerned, there must never be any compromise.
Teaching worthy of Mr. Hideo.
A great deal of advice followed after that.
Good thing we came to Kyoto. That was a near miss.
I would go to Tokyo in search of Suzuki, but for my brother, staying here to be taught would be a hundred times better. If it could be managed, remaining until the day before school started was one option.
Anyway!
The pages beyond were crammed with newly added settings, and every one of them was concrete. Some five minutes after I began to look through the notebook, my brother spoke up out of nowhere. I lifted my head, and he went on, slowly.
"If it really turns out that way... I'm thinking of speaking to Grandfather."
"About what?"
"I want to ask him, as a member of this family, to let me take charge of one pillar of Hyeon-gang."
Which was to say—
"...!"
"I won't leave only you, Jihun, to bear it."
Yes, Brother. That was it. That was exactly it.
I nearly pulled him into my arms. Young as he was, a brother was still a brother.
So now all that's left is to drive the sales up?
A grin spread, slow and wide. I felt myself take a long stride toward a rose-colored future.