I picked up the requested water and cream soda (and a tomato juice for myself) at the stand, then hurried back over to Ghost Mansion. I was way later than I should’ve been; my trip through the haunted house and reuniting with Senpai and Mashiro-senpai took up a huge chunk of time. I didn’t think Mizuki-san would be mad at me for being late, but that didn’t stop me feeling guilty about it.
Otoi-san, though... Yeah, she was probably mad.
She wouldn’t actually shout at me, but I could hear her saying “You’re late...” in a quiet tone, with a blank expression on her face.
It ended up being a lot easier to get into Ghost Mansion than it had been leaving it, mainly because I ran into a staff member past the back entrance who showed me to the room the Hollywood crew was using.
“Have you got any proof you are with them, such as a guest pass?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I do!” For a second, I didn’t know what she was on about, but then I remembered, and I started going through my pocket. I fished out the sticker with “guest” written on it. “It’s this, right?”
“Yes, that’s right. I’ll show you the way.”
And she did, leading me right up to the door.
“If you wouldn’t mind, could you place that sticker on your shoulder, or somewhere else on your clothing so it’s easier to see?”
“Oh, right! Yeah, I’ll do that!” I laughed awkwardly.
I knew it was better to stick it on me somewhere, but I was worried about it damaging the material of my clothing. Especially since I’d picked out the most stylish clothes I had for this once-in-a-blue-moon trip. And, like, I could just pull out that sticker whenever I needed to, so it’s not like it had to live on my shoulder the whole time.
Sorry, ma’am, but I just told you a little white lie!
With that, I started to push through the half-open door with my shoulder. I picked up on some voices coming from inside.
“Tenchido really is wonderful. I do so admire your work.”
“Oh, I am so honored to receive such a comment.”
Was there a meeting going on in there?
I couldn’t understand anything because it was all in English, but things sounded just a little too stiff for a casual chat.
I didn’t want to interrupt anything, so I slid silently through the door and slipped over to the corner, where Mizuki-san and Otoi-san were sitting in two chairs with a calculated distance between them.
“Thank vous.” Mizuki-san took her water. “My throat is dry. This saves me.”
“Thanks,” Otoi-san said, wasting no time slurping at her cream soda.
“At least take it outta my hand before you start drinking!” I said.
“Liftin’ my arms up is effort. Mm, ’sgood.”
I literally couldn’t think of anything lazier than making someone else hold your drink while you sucked it up through the straw. Otoi-san was a force to be reckoned with.
“Urgh... I can’t believe you never get sick of sweet things either, Otoi-san.”
Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned to see Mizuki-san.
“Iroha-chan. Is there not something you noticed?”
“Uh... What am I supposed to be noticing?” I cocked my head at her.
Mizuki-san’s eyes narrowed just a touch. It was hard to work out if she was trying to test me on something or if she was playing a joke on me—but I was weirdly reminded of a black panther.
“Oh? Could that be my darling little Iroha-chan over there?”
...What?
I froze up.
I couldn’t see her—Mizuki-san was in the way—but I knew she was there. I knew that voice, and I knew the way she addressed me as “Iroha-chan.” It was an affectionate voice that I’d been used to since the very day I was born.
“Oh dear. Oh dearie, dearie me. I didn’t want my daughter to see me here... What exactly is the meaning of this?”
“M-Mom?”
How could I not have seen her? If I had, I could’ve been a million miles away by now.
Among the participants in the English conversation was a foreign man, probably the director. Next to him was my mom, in a suit—something I would never have seen her wear around the house. She was in total business mode.
Kohinata Otoha. Otherwise known as Amachi Otoha.
Her eyes were usually gentle and kept almost closed, but right now they were at least half-open—and she was walking right towards me.
What now? She’s gonna flip her lid...
But she didn’t shout, and she didn’t make any accusations. Instead, she just looked at me, her eyes sad; disappointed. I couldn’t look back at her for long, and it felt like there was this heavy stone at the pit of my stomach. Not able to do anything else, I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Hold up... Don’t tell me this lady’s... Damn.”
I felt Otoi-san stiffen—just slightly—nearby me. She knew I had to hide my acting aspirations from my mom, but she didn’t know mom was the CEO of Tenchido. And, of course, she didn’t know what mom looked like either.
There was no way she could have known that woman was my mom, and I knew if she’d realized it, she would’ve contacted me right away.
But she hadn’t. This was probably it for me.
I was with the film crew for a Hollywood movie. Coming up with an excuse for that was impossible. Only someone who wanted to set foot in the entertainment world would be doing something like this.
I heard mom’s footsteps stop right in front of me. Thinking about what she might be about to say had me trembling.
“What is the meaning of this...Mizuki-san?”
Wait... She’s not talking to me?
“Are you really telling me you managed to take somebody else’s daughter out of school on a weekday and drag her all the way to Kyoto?”
“She is a teenager. Independent and mature. There is no problem.”
“But you do realize she is a minor in the eyes of the law, and that you require parental consent to make her work, don’t you?”
“There is no pay. Zero yen an hour. She is a volunteer, so there is okay.”
“That in itself raises a host of other legal questions.”
Mom and Mizuki-san smiled politely at each other, invisible fireworks going off between them. Mom wasn’t angry at me; she was angry at the adult who brought me here. And she was mad because she was worried about me. That was something I recognized as positive in my mom.
But—and maybe this was because I knew it was a good thing—I never managed to speak up for myself in these situations.
“Iroha-chan.”
Now she was addressing me.
“Y-Yes?” I shot up straight, my words coming out stilted.
“Why did you come here? You know skipping school is naughty.”
“I’m...I’m sorry, I just...”
“You just...what?”
“Uh...”
She pushed, and I was backed up against the wall. I was struggling to get out what I wanted to say, and I knew I was shrinking back without needing to look in a mirror to prove it. I tried to take a step back, but then I felt something soft around my shoulders keeping me in place.
“Non. Running is bad. It cannot go.”
“Mizuki-san? But I can’t...”
“It’s a good opportunity. Your chance. There are necessary times to tell things assertively. What do you want to do? Tell your real feelings.”
“Wait, did you know mom was—”
“Oui. Of course I know. I had the knowledge. I prepared this place for you to take a step and break your shell. Now I push your back.”
“No way...”
This whole thing—every last part of it—was something cooked up entirely by Mizuki-san.
It was obvious if I stopped to think about it rationally. This was a Hollywood film crew. The theme park wasn’t just going to send some random staff member to greet them. It was a big deal that required someone way higher up the chain: the CEO herself. I bet Mizuki-san had the life experience to have seen this coming.
Forcing me into this position was horrifically unfair. At least, that was how I wanted to feel, but I knew it was unreasonable.
I had to face mom at some point. I couldn’t hide behind Senpai or my anonymity forever. That was always going to end the moment I was out of high school—the moment I needed to start living as an adult. If I wanted to start down the path of a professional actress, I needed to confront mom head-on and persuade her.
“The feelings of what you saw today, with Hollywood, and with a professional film set. Ask your heart. There is the answer.”
Mizuki-san was right.
At the filming in Gion, I witnessed how Tsukinomori Mizuki shined as an actress. I’d seen real acting out there, enhanced by the high level of professionalism from every member of the film crew, and it had blown my mind. It made me want to get into acting more than ever—to devote literally everything I had to my dream.
“After, you only need to let out courage. So go and say it. To your mom.”
The answer couldn’t be any clearer. And I could do it now. I could look mom right in the eye and declare to her what it was I wanted to do.
“Mom. I...”
I gathered up every ounce of pure emotion I had, and opened my mouth. I was ready to speak, in a clear, firm voice.
Then I watched as a quiet sheen of sadness took over mom’s eyes.