"How'd the recording go?"
"Great vibe. The senpais were chill, but Nagasaki-san spooked me when he called for a redo," Takizawa said, sitting in a cozy ramen shop with the heater on, savoring a rich tonkotsu broth. Thick-cut chashu pork—pure generosity.
A full meal after work felt like a gift from above.
"Weren't there other I'm Enterprise folks there?" Kashiwai Ippei asked over the phone.
"You mean Nakajima-san?" Takizawa said.
"Yup, that's him," Kashiwai said, chuckling. "He's the agency's 'dad' figure. Loves seeing lively newbies bond, often treats them to dinner out of his own pocket to build camaraderie."
"Sounds like a solid guy," Takizawa said, impressed. "And his acting's top-notch."
"Make friends on set, yeah? If only Matsuoka could handle socializing like you," Kashiwai sighed.
"What's up with him?" Takizawa paused, chopsticks hovering.
"He's always so tense. His work's solid, as dedicated as ever, but voice acting isn't just shouting and fighting. I worry he'll get shortchanged," Kashiwai said. "Especially as a lead—you're the studio's focus. Performance-wise, everyone follows you; off-stage, there's radio shows and promos. You gotta be sharp."
"Matsuoka just needs practice. Natural-born smooth-talkers are rare. Instead of worrying, give him a lead role. Experience fixes everything," Takizawa said, vouching for his friend.
"No such pull yet. Your gigs, even within the agency, I have to fight for," Kashiwai said, sighing. "It's a brutal game, arm-wrestling all sorts of people."
"Sounds like an agent's life is like a courtier banking on their kid's success," Takizawa teased.
"It's teamwork! Terrible analogy!" Kashiwai shot back.
"By the way, Kashiwai-san, ever manage a big shot?" Takizawa asked, curious.
"It's a tough world. Not that easy," Kashiwai said dryly. "Dreaming of a top-tier mentor is like wishing you were born royalty. Instead of whining or daydreaming, climb to the top yourself."
"You buy that?"
"Have to. The boss fed me that pep talk!" Kashiwai said, exasperated.
Every boss is a master chef of motivational soup.
"Anyway, since you wrapped this morning, swing by this afternoon for a new audition," Kashiwai urged.
"So soon? I was gonna clean my place," Takizawa said, scratching his head.
"You're no Matsuoka, whining about a golden audition opportunity," Kashiwai said, dreaming aloud. "If only you two could merge."
…
Sakura sat alone in the waiting room.
The audition was more nerve-wracking than she'd imagined. Her voice trembled uncontrollably, and the techniques drilled at the training school vanished, leaving her mind blank.
Her timid, feeble voice in the earphones filled her with shame.
Though her agent and the director hid their disappointment, this craft—her acting, her knowledge—was earned at the cost of a normal, joyful school life. To end up with this result stung bitterly.
They say life is a chain of choices. Maybe her first one was wrong. The price was a deep-sea chasm of alienation, cloaking herself in lies for her parents.
Burying her face in her thick scarf and collar, bangs drooping, she felt wretched.
She'd stepped onto the stage, only to find she couldn't be a spotlight actor. Turning to voice work, she was still inadequate. A long detour, all for nothing.
Her phone held only her parents' numbers.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break the shackles. She was losing the ability to connect, avoiding eye contact, shrinking in social settings.
Snow lingered this season, gray fog clinging. Spring would melt the snow, clear the mist, but to her, it was an endless gray loop, no vibrant colors, just repetition.
I've done nothing wrong, never hurt anyone.
She'd shield stray cats and dogs from rain, mourn a dead cicada, smile at sparrows playing on wires, or clumsily comfort a lost child.
So why… am I like this?
I tried so hard.
All she wanted was a bit of "joy" And "truth."
Silently, she stood, clutching a warm cup, its heat chasing away the chill in her fingertips.
On her lap lay the project's brief and lines. She flipped through it idly. The story was beautiful, a fantasy laced with a childlike, pure sorrow.
A scorching summer, chirping cicadas, a quiet stream, a long shrine path, clasped-hand stone statues, a translucent green forest, an ancient vermilion torii gate streaked with moss and rain.
And a lost little girl.
Stories follow logic and reason more than reality.
True despair, with no hope, can't sustain a tale.
So the girl would meet someone to help her, paving the way for a story worth telling. A lone girl in a dense forest, unseen and unheard, holds no value.
Sakura waited for the "fail" notice, long enough for her cup to cool, her fingers cold again. Was the director hesitating, or had they forgotten the subpar high schooler? It wouldn't be her first time being overlooked.
She drank the cold water, crushed the cup, tossed it, and slipped her hands into warm pockets. Leaving the waiting room, she craved something sweet and headed for the vending machine.
Bundled in a finely made down coat, she looked like a cocooned girl, staring blankly at the back of a boy bending to grab a coffee.
She loved small animals—cute, loyal, returning kindness with trust. Even if they lashed out, their tiny size couldn't hurt much. Kindness earned kindness; attacks were harmless.
Stray cats darted fast, vanishing in a blink, unpredictable. No matter how many treats you gave, they'd slip away.
Yet, inexplicably, they'd reappear at a corner, as if it were only natural.
This guy, though, was no cat.
Her mind drifted to a script line—
A lost firefly meets Gin, who's really a ghost.
The boy turned, spotting her. Startled for a moment, he broke into a smile, handing her the hot drink he'd meant for himself.
"Belated Happy New Year, Sakura-chan. Long time no see."
"Long time no see."
Words she hadn't heard in ages.
So sudden, it threw her off.
She gripped her sleeve, eyes darting.
"Uh, long time no see."
"Wanna drink?" He waved the can.
"Yes." She took it.
So warm.
Just coffee.
But so very warm.
***
If you like the Classroom of the Elite and Danganronpa series, don't hesitate to check out the new project I'm currently working on:
[COTE: The True Perfect Human]
Synopsis:
Since the era when humanity was still focused on steam and coal, people have already been questioning what the Perfect Human truly looks like.
Some say the Perfect Human possesses overwhelming physical strength… others claim the Perfect Human has unparalleled intelligence.
Of course, there are also those who believe the Perfect Human possesses both... strength and intellect.
Like Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.
That's why when people ask who the most perfect human in all of fiction is, they often point to the Masterpiece of the White Room as the Perfect Human.
But… only the OGs know that the only Perfect Human who has ever walked this earth is...
The Ultimate Hope…
Izuru Kamukura.
...
This is the story of Izuru Kamukura as he challenges Classroom of the Elite searching for whether there is anything in this world capable of dispelling his boredom.