“I know there were other girls who were completely upfront with you, and I started to think of myself as cowardly for relying on a safety net...”
“Other girls... Do you mean Mido—”
Mashiro placed a finger on my lips to cut me off, and with a prick of guilt, I quickly realized why. It didn’t matter how much Mashiro knew about Midori’s confession from last night; bringing it up now—confirming it had happened—would be pretty insensitive.
“As long as I had my alter ego to hide behind, I could stay with you for as long as I wanted, even if you rejected me. But doing that wouldn’t be fair to the other girls who are interested in you, and it definitely wouldn’t be fair to you, when you give absolutely everything to the Alliance. That’s why I wanted to come clean.”
“Is that also why you ‘broke up’ with me?”
“Yes. I want the whole Alliance to know the truth. I don’t want to hide anything anymore, and I don’t want to be in a fake relationship with you. That way, I can make a fresh start.”
“But wait, doesn’t that mean...”
I suddenly had a sense of foreboding.
Tsukinomori-san was a world-class CEO. He wouldn’t relax the conditions of our deal for nothing. My fake relationship with Mashiro and the Alliance’s entry into Honeyplace Works were inextricably linked. If our fake relationship was off, that would mean a change in how the Alliance was handled.
I had no idea what sort of conditions Tsukinomori-san would be willing to accept, but there was a pretty simple conclusion I could draw now that I knew Mashiro’s secret identity.
“Wait, don’t say you used your LN series as a bargaining chip?”
“I did,” Mashiro admitted readily. “I gave Honeyplace Works permission to create new media based on Snow White’s Revenge Classroom. I’ve already got Canary-san on board too; it’s a done deal.”
“Are you sure about this? There has to be a pretty strong reason you didn’t want it getting an anime up till now. Like it went against your values or something.”
“It wasn’t anything to do with values. I was...scared. Scared to let someone else take control over the story that came from inside me, and scared to expose that story to even more people than would ever read the novels.”
“Then you don’t have to do this!”
“I’ve already made up my mind. And I’m prepared to get bigger—to become famous. If you achieve your goals, you’re gonna be famous too, right, Aki?”
“Uh...”
I had thought about this. Creating a polished console game and letting Honeyplace Works publish it meant taking on the world. If making something that only had to please our limited core fan base were enough to satisfy me, there would have been no need for me to step into the console market. In that case, we just needed to continue to create new content for our mobile app’s current player base indefinitely.
But because I aimed beyond that, I needed to do more. All this time, my main goal was to expand the environment in which Ozu, Murasaki Shikibu-sensei, and Iroha could make use of their talents. Entering the console market was one of the surest ways I’d come up with.
“I’m gonna make it big too,” Mashiro continued. “I’m gonna expose myself to the masses, and get criticized and bashed like never before. I’ve probably got a lot of hurt ahead of me. But I’m ready to take all of it, if it means I can keep walking by your side.”
“Mashiro... No, Makigai Namako-sensei... That’s such a major step...”
I was encouraged by what she was telling me, and it made me realize I couldn’t rely on her forever either. I needed to work hard for the future too.
“It’s not me, Aki. You’re the one who inspired this. I’m moving forward because of you, and everything you’ve done for me. It’s the same for all of us in the Alliance.”
I considered her words. “I see...”
Mashiro’s eyes were shining with an almost blinding light as she fixed them on mine. It only enhanced the muddy guilt settling deep in my chest.
“I’m sorry, Mashiro.”
“Sorry? I thought I was the one apologizing here.”
“I’m apologizing because you’ve just opened up your heart to me and told me everything...but there’s still something I’m hiding from you.”
Mashiro flinched.
I’d been wondering whether it was a good idea to tell her or not, and in the end, I decided I could trust Mashiro. And so I handed over the Alliance’s greatest, final secret. I opened up Pandora’s box and showed her the contents.
“I’ve been hiding this from everyone in the Alliance for a long time, but the truth is...our mystery voice actor is Iroha.”
Mashiro didn’t say anything.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not. Because I already knew.”
“Okay. Well, I guess it makes sense you figured it out. Like, I don’t have any friends outside of the Alliance, yet she’s always coming over to my place. Then there’s the fact she knows everything about what we do, and she has enough acting skills to coach the drama club... It’d be weirder to think the Phantom Voice Troupe could be anybody else.”
“Those are all good points, but...I’m sorry. I accidentally saw a LIME message Otoi-san sent you on your phone. It was in the car when we were on the way back from that trip, and everyone else was asleep. I-I wanna be clear it really wasn’t on purpose...but I still saw it, so...sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s something I need to share with the rest of the Alliance anyway. And it’s not like you told anyone else either.”
“Why were you keeping it a secret?”
“Because there’s someone who absolutely can’t find out, no matter what.”
“Do you mean...”
“Iroha’s mom: Kohinata Otoha. Also known as Amachi Otoha. The CEO of Tenchido, the woman who runs Eternaland.”
“Her? Why would it be so bad if she found out?”
We were sealed away in a ferris wheel, just the two of us. An airborne locked room where we engaged in a confidential conversation. It was the kind of place an evil organization might negotiate a backroom deal—but the shadow we were traversing wasn’t unlawfulness. It was the past.
“In order to explain, I’m gonna have to go way back to before you and me reunited—actually, further than that: before you even got in touch with me as Makigai Namako-sensei.”
“Lemme hear it.”
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to lean forward like that, y’know.” I pulled back from her a little, not expecting her to be so eager.
Still, I could also see where that eagerness came from. Something I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate before. Something I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate without understanding my own romantic feelings.
Of course Mashiro would be interested in my past and, by extension, how I got close to Iroha, who I was sure she saw as competition. I wanted to protect Iroha’s secret, but not enough to shun Mashiro.
“My junior high school years were majorly cringe,” I said, “so I’d made it a rule not to even think about them.”
Now, though, I had made up my mind.
There was a reason I was so determined to keep Iroha’s secret. Then there was the story of our meeting, our getting to know each other, and the formation of the 05th Floor Alliance, and how it became what it is today.
I’d fed bits and pieces of the safer parts of those stories to various people over time, but right now, I felt I had a duty to tell Mashiro the whole, unadulterated truth.
So I opened up that box of memories. That second Pandora’s box that held nothing but embarrassment.
“Back then...I stole something really important from Iroha.”
✦ ✦ ✦
“He’s really gonna leave it hanging there?! That’s such a dirty trick! Now I really wanna know what’s coming next!”
“I know what you really think.”
“I love it! Now I get to speculate on all kinds of possibilities, and I’m so hyped!”
“It’s that imagination that makes you such an impressive creative, Murasaki Shikibu-sensei.”
“Hey, d’you think it’s cool if I draw fan art of what I think Aki and Iroha-chan’s past was like?!”
“I’m gonna be showing up in this one too, by the way.”
“Seriously?! Wait, so there’s gonna be a love triangle with you, Aki, and Iroha-chan?! That’s gonna make my job way more complicated!”
“Otoi-san’s gonna be showing up in this one too, by the way.”
“I’m doomed!”
“Aha ha ha. It’ll be interesting to see how accurate your predictions are, eh?”