Filming on Winter Sunflower was moving along smoothly.
Over the next few days, Shin’s life settled into a steady, full rhythm.
During the day on set, he used the screenwriter’s glasses to thoroughly break down the scripts in advance, so he rarely made mistakes during shooting.
The label “easy to work with, reliable, and has presence” was now firmly stuck to him.
In the evenings he returned to his now-warm rental, fried a piece of discounted wagyu, and drank a glass of red wine.
Life felt more comfortable than it had in his previous existence.
Wednesday evening there was a night shoot that required set construction, leaving a two-hour gap in the middle.
Shin didn’t feel like sitting in the noisy rest area listening to background actors brag, so he wandered alone to the public rest area in the main television building.
The vending machines here had a better selection — not just coffee, but hot soup and milk as well.
He had barely turned the corner when he saw a familiar back.
Akina Nakamori.
Today she wore a loose beige knit sweater, her hair casually twisted into a bun.
Her face carried the deep exhaustion that appeared once she let her guard down.
She stood in front of the vending machine, head lowered as she searched her pockets.
Left side, right side.
Then she turned her designer handbag upside down and shook it out.
Clearly the big star had left without any change — or had already spent her last coins.
In an era without electronic payments, a machine without a hundred-yen coin was just a glowing metal box.
Akina let out an irritated sigh, shoulders slumping, and was about to give up and walk away.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Three hundred-yen coins dropped crisply into the slot.
Akina startled and took half a step back, turning around.
Shin stood behind her, still holding two more coins, wearing a gentle, appropriate smile.
He wasn’t looking at her.
He simply reached out and pressed one of the lit buttons.
Clunk.
A red can of hot milk rolled out.
Shin bent down, retrieved it, and held it out to the still-stunned Akina.
“Have something warm.” His tone was natural, like offering a glass of water to a colleague after work.
“I saw you staring at the black coffee earlier.
On a damp, cold day like this, drinking iced coffee on an empty stomach isn’t great.” Akina looked at the slender hand and the steaming can of milk.
She recognized the face.
The man who had lent her the lighter in the corridor that night.
“…Thank you.” She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took the milk.
The scalding warmth against her palm instantly drove away the chill in her fingers.
“I completely forgot to bring my wallet out.” Akina pulled the tab and took a small sip.
The rich milk aroma eased her tense nerves a little.
“My assistant went to buy food.
I don’t know when she’ll be back.” “That’s normal.
When you’re busy, who remembers to carry change?” Shin bought himself a hot coffee as well, opened it, and took a sip.
Then he pointed down the corridor.
“I should head back to the set.
Still have a night scene waiting.” With a slight nod, he turned to leave.
Akina hadn’t expected him to be so tactful.
She felt a flicker of surprise.
In this industry, everyone who approached her came with an agenda — her fame, her money, or her body.
“Wait.” She suddenly called out to him.
Shin stopped and looked back.
“What’s wrong?
If it’s about paying me back for the milk, there’s really no need.
The lighter you gave me is worth way more than this.” “Who said anything about money?” Akina shot him an irritated look.
For a brief moment she looked like a young girl again.
She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out an elegant card voucher with gold embossed patterns.
“Here.” She held it out.
“Take it.” Shin took it and looked.
[Senbikiya · Premium Fruit Parfait Exchange Voucher] Senbikiya was Japan’s most expensive fruit dessert shop.
The face value of this voucher was at least ten thousand yen.
“This was a sponsor gift, but I’ve been watching my weight lately.
My manager would kill me if she saw me eating this.” Akina pouted and gripped the hot milk a little tighter.
“Throwing it away would be a waste.
Since you bought me milk, take this as a return gift.” Shin paused.
When he met Akina’s eyes, he could read a quiet hint of expectation in them.
She didn’t want to be refused.
“Alright.
Then I won’t be polite.” Shin accepted it readily.
“Perfect timing.
I know someone who really loves this place’s desserts.” “Mm.
I’m going then.” Akina waved and turned, walking toward the rest area with the can of milk in her hands.
… The next morning.
Shin had just entered the makeup room when Miwa, the stylist, was organizing her brushes.
“Morning, Miwa-nee.” “Morning, Kitahara-kun!
We’re shooting close-ups today.
How’s your skin?” Miwa greeted him warmly.
Ever since the bento incident, their relationship had grown noticeably closer.
On set, getting along with the makeup artists was important survival wisdom.
After all, how your face looked on camera depended entirely on their hands.
“Thanks to you, I rested well.” Shin sat in front of the makeup mirror.
As if suddenly remembering something, he took the golden voucher out of his bag.
“Oh, right — Miwa-nee, this is for you.” “What is it?” Miwa took it and her eyes widened instantly.
“Senbikiya?!
Oh my god, that’s that legendary high-society dessert shop!
This voucher can be exchanged for the seasonal limited white strawberry parfait, right?
That’s over ten thousand yen!” “A friend gave it to me.
I don’t really like sweets — it would just expire if I kept it.” Shin smiled, his tone as casual as if he were handing over a discount coupon.
“You work so hard every day, Miwa-nee.
Consider this a little comfort gift.” “Oh my!
How can I possibly accept this…” Miwa’s mouth said she felt bad, but her hand was already clutching the voucher tightly.
For a working woman like her, Senbikiya was a luxury she normally couldn’t afford.
“You kid… you really know how to handle things!” Miwa grinned from ear to ear.
She carefully tucked the voucher into her inner pocket, then picked up her powder puff again with renewed seriousness.
“Come here.
Today I’m bringing out my best skills!
I’ll make you look even more charming than that pretty-boy Matsumoto!” For the next half hour, Miwa used the high-end ampoule essence she normally reserved only for the female lead to prep Shin’s skin.
Her contouring was refined down to the millimeter, deepening the natural structure of his features.
Even his hairline was carefully treated.
When Shin stood up after makeup, the person in the mirror — though still wearing an old shirt — carried a particularly striking presence.
“Perfect.” Miwa clapped, satisfied.
“I guarantee you’ll charm plenty of girls!” Shin looked at his reflection and adjusted his collar.
One hundred yen worth of milk had bought a ten-thousand-yen voucher.
A ten-thousand-yen voucher had bought the full effort of a top-tier makeup artist.
Barter in action.
He touched the Zippo in his pocket and walked out of the makeup room with confident steps.