Personality

Even if it's just a few seconds, I'm pretty sure I'm not mistaken, I may be mistaken for anyone else, but I definitely won't be mistaken for Kamenashi Kazuya.A person who is with me day and night.

In the photo, he looks a few years younger than he is now, when he was a clean and white boy.

I must have looked terribly pale, because the reporter asked me if I wasn't feeling well.I held the photo tightly in my hand, and he stretched out his hand to take it back, and I subconsciously wanted to shrink back.But I can't do that, and I can't start a fight until I figure out the whole thing.Trying to calm down the fierce battle inside, I returned the photo to him and struck up a conversation.Maybe it was because he mistakenly believed that I was not Japanese. This reporter was not wary of me, and he didn't even recognize me wearing sunglasses as the star who was so popular in Japan, Jin Akanishi.

I invited him to sit in an airport café to express my apologies.He agreed with little hesitation.After some conversation, I learned that he had just toured the whole of Italy and was planning to make the most shocking insider news since he was a reporter.

When the reporter heard the name Kamenashi Kazuya, I finally couldn't control the huge waves in my heart.It seemed that something that had been insisting on was breaking apart little by little from the heart.At that time, outside the huge floor-to-ceiling glass of the airport cafe, the huge shadow of the plane slowly passed over my head like a bird with open wings.The half-lit cigarette finally burned my fingertips, and the ash fell to the ground without any sound.

I probably think that I am just a botanist who doesn't care about worldly affairs, or that he just got this exciting relationship that has been kept secret. The young reporter almost unreservedly showed his experience in Italy and other places this year. The clues found in the local search.

It wasn't until that moment that I realized that my opponent was not the boy in Kazuya's body, but a famous Italian photographer.

Sogno.In Italian, it means dream.He has been dead for four full years.It has always been believed to exist in the conjecture of Sogno, who has hereditary mental illness, which inspired him countless inspirations and made works familiar to the world. The mysterious Moose is a teenager named Girasole.He only appeared in Sogno's few magazine interviews, and the sunflower was Sogno's metaphor for the teenager in his own work.No one knows the boy's origins, and no one knows his real name, only guessing that he may be a mentally retarded boy.just maybe.

In the eyes of the world, Girasole is just a phantom made up by Sogno.And now, only me and this reporter in front of me know that Girasole is a real person and he is still alive.

His name is Kamenashi Kazuya.

After returning to Japan, I was in a trance, turned off all the work, and sat in Kazuya's apartment every day waiting for him to come back.Sometimes I would stand in front of the empty painting that once disturbed me, trying to figure out from it that Kazuya lived in this space, under the gray sky of Tokyo, with a chaotic and anxious mood like a whirlpool.I covered the mirror in the bathroom with a cloth. I didn't want to see my face anywhere, and I didn't even want to hear my voice.I just want to see myself smiling in Kazuya's dark pupils.

I said to myself, as long as Kazuya comes back, back to me, I am willing to hug him forever, no matter whether he really loves me in his heart or not, and whether he is willing to stay in Tokyo, Japan.Wherever he wants to go, I will definitely accompany him.As long as he's always, always by my side.

The agent nearly blew up my phone and left a message in my apartment warning that if I didn't show up, the firm would consider putting me in the dark for life.I just called him back, let's go to Xuezang, I don't care what you guys do.All I care about is Kamenashi Kazuya, who has lost all audio.I don't even care about myself anymore.

The night I saw Kazuya again, I didn't even dare to call him across the street on the street.Because he was afraid that he would leave without looking back.I could only wave and hail a taxi in a hurry, and followed the car he was riding to see where he was going.When they got out of the car, I heard the sound of my heart beating violently.Kazuya, whom he had not seen for several months, was wearing sunglasses and a white striped shirt, and walked into a secluded corner coffee shop with a man.For some reason, my tears fell suddenly, flowing through the beard that I had not shaved, and falling on the asphalt road.

The man's back is familiar to me, but I forgot where I saw it.I didn't catch a glimpse of his face until he turned his head slightly before entering the coffee shop. It was the Japanese reporter I met in the Italian airport.I stood there blankly for a long time, with a roaring blankness in my head.Why did that reporter come to Kazuya?Why did He also go to see him, and didn't want to come back to see me?

Countless questions swirled around me, and I felt dizzy and couldn't think of any meaningful explanations. I followed them into the cafe just like a conditioned reflex.

Walked into the coffee shop and they didn't notice me sitting in the corner.As they were arguing, their voices grew louder.Kazuya sat with his back to me, his shoulders trembling slightly.From another corner, I caught a glimpse of that nasty reporter showing a smug face in front of Kazuya.

When I finally couldn't hold back my anger and wanted to go up and punch the reporter twice, Kazuya stood up before me, his voice still indifferent and unwavering: Don't push yourself too hard!Do whatever you want, I won't give you a dime anyway!It was the first time I heard the sentence between gnashing of teeth, and he spit it out in a cold voice.My fingers trembled violently under the table, and I didn't stand up immediately to catch up with Kazuya.

Hearing the reporter curse bitterly, he left the coffee money and left the coffee shop amidst the waiters whispering.

I don't know how I got back to Kazuya's apartment, I only know that I waited for a long time that night but didn't get Kazuya back.I suddenly have a feeling, and also will not come back.This room we have loved countless times, this living room where I sat quietly watching his writing, this kitchen where the smell of porridge once wafted, this home that has gradually begun to look decent, and I don’t have any nostalgia or attachment. will appear again.I'm left alone, a fool, clutching something called love in my hands, waiting for someone who will never come back.

Perhaps, the most important place in Kazuya's heart, the only one who can occupy his entire soul is Sogno, a dead man.He covered his eyes on the street with people coming and going, was he unwilling to accept the news of Sogno's death on TV?Facing the mirror alone with tears streaming down his face, he repeatedly murmured that sentence, he died.Is the boy I don't know that I saw, is he his real appearance?Not an indifferent fringe man with a cold face and a smoky eye, but a clean and pure white Girasole, Sogno's only love.

From the beginning to the end, Kazuya never loved me, what he loved was the illusory image he saw in his eyes, what he loved was the shadow of me that he wanted to see in his heart, Sogno.Not Akanishi Jin.

Even so, I still can't resent him. Those who died had their own reasons for their death.Love can be distorted into a completely different appearance, and the humble nature of life is infinitely magnified.

Sogno is no longer in the world, and Kazuya loves him so deeply, even if the past between them is all spread out in front of the world, when the truth is revealed, it will not have any impact on them.He Ye, who has always gone his own way, doesn't care about other people's threats and blackmail, let alone how others think of him.

But I don't mind.In this seemingly glamorous and chaotic entertainment industry, the dazzling means of defeating a person are breathtaking.Kazuya always lives with his will to go his own way, and he is alone in the darkness he lives in, so he doesn't understand that in this world besides the darkness he created for himself, there are other sinister and unpredictable evils. slander.All they need is a reprinted newspaper, a false report with embellishments, a little bit of speculation, and some groundless guesses and seemingly authoritative judgments, which are enough to destroy the reputations of two people.Not only Sogno, who has never appeared in public, I am afraid even Kazuya himself will be ruined.

The so-called fearful words, that is.

I'm already shuddering at the thought, and there's only one thought left in my mind: I want to do one last thing for my loved one, if that's what he wants.

I took out the business card given to me by the reporter at the Italian airport and dialed his number.I was sure that the voice that had been talking in front of me was the one who answered the phone, and I said: Tell me, how much do you want to keep those photos private?Kamenashi and I won’t give it, I’ll give it to you.

That voice obviously couldn't hide his ecstasy, but he insisted on answering in a lazy tone that made people itch with hatred: Oh, after all, there are still people who know the goods, so let's talk about it when we meet.

Despicable villain, if I was not shocked by the secret that Kazuya had been hiding all along, and my depressed mood became even more uncontrollable, I would have directly snatched the photo and burned it.

Kazuya would not be threatened by such shameless people as soon as he returned to Japan.

I decided to try everything I could think of to settle this matter.But what I didn't expect was that when I prepared a huge check to exchange those photos and all the materials, I waited for the reporter at the appointed place overnight, but he didn't come.My mind was filled with all sorts of restless guesses, and after calling him countless times but still being unable to get through, I returned to Kazuya's apartment tiredly.

I thought I was dreaming.

He also sat quietly at the table where we had breakfast together, and the dishes I liked were placed in front of me.Spaghetti, chestnut cake, as rich as dinner.He seemed to be in good spirits, but the tiredness in the corners of his eyes was revealed inadvertently between his eyes.Looking up in the morning light, he gave me a quiet smile.Just like the first morning when we were naked to each other, he sat on the window sill and shaved me with a smile on his face.

He said: Ren, come and have breakfast with me.

My eyes were blurred by the rising fog, and I tried my best to hold back the warm liquid.

I nodded and said good.

Note: Girasole and Sogno are the protagonists in "Personality", and their appearance in "SEASONS" is just passing by.