Maybe I’ll be able to use them one day. At the very least, I doubt she’ll mess with me again in the future. For her sake, I hope she stops now rather than going from idol candidate to convicted felon and falling into desperation.
“A-are you threatening me?” she stammers.
“How rude. Please don’t assume I’m anything like you.”
“Then what—?”
“But I hope you’ll remember what happened today, no matter how successful you become.”
“Ngh…”
After that, Noriko Satou is speechless. This must be how adults form relationships of trust with one another.
Just then, the staff announces the end of our break and asks us to reenter the recording booth. Everyone files back in, and I follow them, as if nothing has happened.
“Wow. You’ve really gone bad.”
“……”
That’s all your fault, Abaddon.
After that, the live stream proceeds without a hitch.
Knowing I got second place gives me time to think through what I’m going to say. In that sense, Noriko Satou’s attempted kidnapping came with a silver lining. In fact, I think I gained more than I lost.
“To everyone who cast their vote for Ochiba Kareki, thank you so much.” This may be only a small step compared to what my senpai have accomplished, but as a gloomy introvert who messed up her big high school debut, the result could have been far worse.” I chuckle to myself as I speak into the microphone. “I want to repay everyone for the kindness you’ve shown me, so I promise to do my best at the festival. I may be a bit of a failure, but I hope you will all keep a small piece of me in your hearts.”
Kihouin and Rolling, the hosts, are standing right next to me.
“Miss Kareki, you sound as stiff as a politician. Who are you trying to impress? We are here as entertainers, remember? I’ve explained this to you many times as your senpai—but it seems I haven’t yet gotten through.”
“I apologize. Would you show me an example, then?”
“An example?”
“Please put yourself in Ochiba Kareki’s shoes and show us how she should thank everyone for getting second place.”
“If you insist, darling. Very well. I will show you a wonderful example of—”
“Kihooo, you’re letting her twist you around her little finger againnn!”
“I… I am doing no such thing! This is all for my own benefit. Purposely joining my kouhai’s conversations, pining for any extra opportunity to speak! I act out of unbridled ambition! I’m the one benefiting here. She certainly does not have me wrapped around her little finger!”
“Geeee whiz. Listen to youuu, talking a mile a minute. Your desperation is pathetically obvious.”
And so Ochiba Kareki is officially taking part in Winterfest. What’s more, the festival is shaping up to be one long date with my neighbor.
After my neighbor and Abaddon made it into Winterfest and the recording was over, we headed to a hotel in the city. There was a rehearsal the very next day, so the company reserved a hotel near the venue for us. It seemed the major players in this industry took good care of their talents.
To avoid being seen, we simply stayed in the hotel that night, though we hopped over to the UFO to eat dinner with the rest of our pretend family before coming straight back. Our little trip only lasted about an hour. Everyone saw my neighbor and Abaddon off with a smile, cheering them on and encouraging them.
Type Twelve still seemed relaxed and confident, which made me curious how many views she’d gotten so far. I was even more concerned about Miss Hoshizaki, however. She was acting even more suspicious than the previous day, but she still insisted nothing was wrong.
The following day, we took a taxi straight from the hotel to the venue for the rehearsal. Winterfest would be held near the water in a large exhibition hall famous for its unusual look. The upper part of the structure was composed of four inverted pyramids. I recalled visiting it several times for product exhibitions while at my former job.
They told us they’d reserved the entire eastern side of the building for the event. From the map they’d given us, I could see that the venue was largely split into three different areas. The main stage was in the center of Area A, with a food court, a café, and product sales booths. Area B comprised another smaller stage, a variety of displays, and hands-on projects. Area C was a staff-only area, and they’d asked us to meet there.
We made our way to one section of the expansive hall, demarcated by high partitions. The space was probably over a hundred square meters, with plenty of folding chairs and long tables set up. I could see vending machines and a commercial hot water dispenser in one of the corners. This was probably a space for staff members to eat and take breaks.
“The hall is huge, but I didn’t realize the backstage area would be so big, too,” said my neighbor as she looked around.
Staff members crowded the area, wearing a myriad of different outfits depending on their roles. Some wore work clothes—they were probably in charge of installing and maintaining equipment—while others, evidently directors, wore suits and ties. Everyone had a lanyard around their neck, listing their job.
I saw people slumped over the long tables napping, others eating, and still others conducting meetings. And that was only a small fraction of those in the room. Including even the lowest-ranking staff members, I surmised there must be a few hundred people here. I wished I could have come to such a lively, prosperous company straight from graduation.
“This company is famous for its substantial employee benefits, you know,” I said.
“Employee benefits?” my neighbor asked.
“Oh, sorry. That’s only for regular employees, so I guess it doesn’t have much to do with you.”
“No, I know the term. They’re conspicuously absent from the angel-demon proxy war.”
“Thank you for your feedback!” Abaddon said earnestly. “I promise we’ll take it into consideration for next time!”
Apparently, this hall contained several other staff areas, too. Each project was assigned a space in accordance with its scope. The people behind the 3D models would hop between these spaces depending on their individual schedules.
But the ones doing most of the activities were the first-string members and the staff supporting them. The second-string members with less fame hadn’t been given much to do. That went for Ochiba Kareki, and by extension, my neighbor as well. We’d probably have a lot of free time to hang around backstage during the festival.
“There’s still time before we’re all supposed to gather,” I said. “Want to sit down?”
“Yes, let’s do that.”
“I’ll go buy drinks. Would you like anything?”
“Oh, actually, I’ll just go with you…”
“Yeah. If possible, I think we should get a lay of the land while we have the opportunity.”
My neighbor and Abaddon followed me to the vending machines.
I’d been noticing something about this place ever since we first arrived—security personnel were omnipresent. They all wore uniforms emblazoned with the logo of a major security firm. I figured they were necessary, considering the scope of the event, but there sure were an awful lot of them standing all throughout the room. I couldn’t help wondering if they really needed so many.
“Do you have a moment, Mr. Sasaki?” someone asked from behind me as I was picking something out from the vending machines.
I turned and found a familiar face looking back at me.
“Miss Inukai? What brings you here?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Ensign Inukai was a career member of the Maritime Self-Defense Force. Her short hair reached only down to her ears, and she had sharp, beautiful features. She still seemed young; I doubted much time had passed since she’d graduated from the National Defense Academy. Still, her calm tone and brisk words betrayed her origins.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “Let’s head over there.”
“Thank you for understanding.”