"I'm in Tokyo, and this is some kind of movie star comeback system?!"

The kissing didn't stop.

When Miho Nakayama's lips touched hers, Yu Sakamoto's hand was still at her waist.

He didn't move, as if he was waiting for something.

Wait for her to push him away herself, wait for the inevitable interruption to happen.

But nothing happened.

There were no footsteps outside the door.

The agent did not knock on the door.

Hitomi Ono did not return.

Only her breathing, growing more rapid and hotter, fell on his face, urging him to make a decision.

Sakamoto Yu closed his eyes.

When she opened her eyes again, the restraint in them shattered.

His hand tightened suddenly around her waist, pulling her into his arms.

The movements were not gentle, carrying a kind of arrogance that had been suppressed for too long.

Miho Nakayama gave a soft hum, and before she could react, he flipped her over and pressed her into the sofa.

The positions have been changed.

At this moment, the tide turned instantly, and the initiative was completely in their hands.

He lowered his head and kissed her, no longer the tentative touch he had shown during filming, nor the passive forbearance he had just endured.

His kiss was clear and undisguisedly aggressive, as if he wanted to take back everything he had suppressed before.

Miho Nakayama's mind went completely blank.

Her hands gripped his collar, her breathing completely disrupted by his rhythm.

She wanted to respond, but every time she found her rhythm, he led her deeper into the same territory.

Sakamoto Yu gave her no chance to catch her breath; his breath filled her mouth—intense, scalding, and irrational.

She didn't know how much time had passed.

It could be one minute, or it could be ten minutes.

All she knew was that her lips were numb from the kisses, her breaths were getting shorter and shorter, and her body was becoming weaker and weaker, as if all her strength had been drained away.

But he showed no sign of stopping.

He braced one hand on the sofa armrest beside her ear, and held her firmly in his arms with the other.

He only slowed down when her fingers crumpled his collar and she could no longer keep up with his breathing.

The kiss went from intense to lingering, from plunder to entanglement.

Finally, he stopped.

Sakamoto Yu's forehead pressed against hers, their breaths ragged and hot.

Neither side made any further moves.

The scents of Miho Nakayama and Yu Sakamoto mingled together, sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet lounge.

Sakamoto Yu didn't look at her.

He closed his eyes briefly, then released his grip, straightened up, and stepped back.

He neither spoke nor offered an explanation.

Miho Nakayama lay on the sofa, her chest heaving violently, her lips incredibly red and slightly swollen, and her eyes glistening with a layer of lingering tears.

She watched his retreating figure, opened her mouth, but said nothing.

Sakamoto Yu walked to the window, his back to her, his shoulders taut.

"You should go," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

Miho Nakayama lay on the sofa for a few seconds, then slowly sat up.

Her fingers were still trembling, and she missed pinching strands of hair several times while fixing her hair.

His warmth still lingered on her lips, and her cheeks were burning hot as if she had a fever.

She lowered her head, took a deep breath, and then stood up.

With trembling fingers, he re-buttoned the buttons that had unbuttoned sometime during the night.

She paused as she walked past him.

Suddenly, she stood on tiptoe and bit Sakamoto Yu's lips hard.

After loosening her grip, she reached out and straightened his collar.

Her reproachful gaze swept across his face.

She opened the door and went out.

In the corridor, the manager and Hitomi Ono turned their heads at the same time.

The agent's expression changed the moment he saw her.

Miho Nakayama's lips were visibly swollen, her breathing was unsteady, the redness on her cheeks hadn't completely faded, and even her ears were flushed.

There was a small, barely noticeable red mark on her neck, hidden at the edge of her collar, barely visible.

The agent's brows furrowed, his lips moved, but he ultimately said nothing.

Hitomi Ono's eyes widened, her mouth slightly open, her hands clenched tightly, and her palms were sweaty.

She quickly lowered her head, pretending to look for something on the ground, her ears burning red.

"Let's go." The agent's voice was deep.

Miho Nakayama nodded, offering no explanation or turning around.

She walked towards the other end of the corridor, her steps much lighter than when she came.

Hitomi Ono stood there, watching her figure disappear around the corner, then turned her head to look at the closed lounge door again.

She swallowed hard, moved gently back to the doorway, and knocked.

"Come in."

After receiving a response, Hitomi Ono went inside.

Upon entering, she quickly surveyed her surroundings and found that nothing had changed; everything remained exactly as it had been when she left.

Besides the obvious wrinkles on the sofa.

She looked at Sakamoto Yu.

The other person was holding chopsticks and eating their lunchbox with gusto.

He ate the rock-hard fried pork chop with great relish.

Take a bite of pork chop, pick up a mouthful of rice, chew symbolically twice, then swallow it whole, repeating the process.

As he chewed, he waved to Hitomi Ono, "Get me another one of these."

Ono Hitomi was stunned by Sakamoto Yu's eating habits, and after she came to her senses, she quickly nodded.

Before leaving, Sakamoto Yu swallowed the rice in his mouth hard.

"Give me some miso soup, this rice is too dry."

"Okay, okay."

Hitomi Ono responded and ran off in small steps.

.....

In the following days, the filming of their scenes went surprisingly smoothly.

Almost all of Miho Nakayama's scenes with him were filmed in one take.

The director always praised the two for their great chemistry.

Only Sakamoto Yu knew that it wasn't a chemical reaction.

Instead, Zhongshan will no longer perform.

.....

"Okay, this one is approved."

Endo raised his hand to indicate, "Sakamoto-san and Nakayama-san need to film a close-up of their hands later."

Another shoot ended, and the crew began to pack up.

Sakamoto Yu and Nakayama Miho are still standing in the set.

Kumiko Goto did not leave.

She sat in her folding chair, pretending to flip through a script, her eyes constantly glancing at that spot.

After the close-up shot was finished, the two stepped out from the set.

The makeup artist went up to touch up Zhongshan's makeup, while Sakamoto stood by and waited.

His gaze was elsewhere, he wasn't looking at anyone, and he seemed perfectly normal.

However, Goto discovered a pattern.

No matter what Zhongshan does, her gaze will eventually fall on Sakamoto Yu.

This process is so quick that you wouldn't even notice it unless you were constantly observing it.

Just like now, her gaze is fixed on the camera, seemingly checking the camera position.

In fact, the moment his gaze returned, it secretly swept across Sakamoto Yu's face.

She then casually looked away, quietly touched up her makeup, and accepted the water from her assistant. Her every move was just like usual.

After finishing his makeup, Zhongshan walked past Sakamoto and handed him his empty water bottle.

"Put it down for me."

Sakamoto took it, turned around and threw it into the trash can, the movement was natural.

Goto didn't know if this counted as "something happening".

But she noticed that when Nakayama handed the bottle, his fingers brushed against Sakamoto's palm.

Sakamoto didn't dodge or even glance at her; he took it and left.

The whole process took less than two seconds.

Goto turned the page of the script but didn't read a single word.

Although she is young, she has spent a lot of time on set and knows a lot about things she should and shouldn't know.

The way Nakayama-san looked at Sakamoto-san was clearly wrong.

It wasn't the look in her eyes when she was in a character, but during breaks, when she was touching up her makeup, and even when Sakamoto-san wasn't looking at her.

Her gaze would always drift involuntarily over there, then quickly return to its original direction.

Sakamoto-san hasn't changed much.

She remained as composed as ever, as polite to everyone, and as adept at delivering emotions precisely during filming, immediately detaching herself after the "cut" signal.

In the past, when Mr. Nakayama handed things to Mr. Sakamoto, he would just hand them over directly.

But now, there are always some inappropriate little things happening between her and him.

Sakamoto Yu usually doesn't dodge, but he also doesn't respond.

The two interacted naturally.

Goto lowered his head, his eyes fixed on the script, his gaze empty, feeling that this was more heart-pounding than "what happened".