Chapter 2

Two days later, the message came summoning them to the office. Suzune had just finished up the hot yoga class she attended once a week, taken a refreshing shower, and changed clothes. Then she’d checked her phone and saw a group email had gone out about thirty minutes prior. Anyone who was available should stop by the office at two PM the next day, it said. Suzune just so happened to have an opening between two recording sessions around that time. It was rare that the agency contacted the entire group. Usually, most people just had one-on-one exchanges with their managers. The implication was clear: There must be a big announcement. Maybe it’s a huge project involving the entire company, Suzune mused. Although, there were worse possibilities that came to mind as well, of course. For instance, it was possible Earpo could be ending their management operations entirely. Something like that had never occurred to her before, but as voice acting became a popular career path, some established production companies started managing voice actors, and other agencies were formed from the ground up. As these instances increased, so too did the number of companies ceasing operations due to competition. Content creators weren’t the only ones who had to earn profits or cease to exist. If voice actors failed to produce results, their contracts would eventually be dropped. Every season, auditions were a trial by fire. First, there was the question of whether you would even make it through the agency’s own screening to participate in the auditions, and even if you passed that hurdle, it didn’t mean anything if you botched the audition. Suzune would feel guilty whenever she thought about how people must feel when they were dropped from the agency or when they couldn’t even pass the review in the first place. Yuika always reminded her that there was no use dwelling on that sort of thing; the industry was a meritocracy, after all. But it sounded like she was trying to reassure herself just as much as Suzune. It was true, though. In the end, there was nothing else for it but to keep striving to improve, devoting yourself to the craft, and tackling each audition and role with everything you had. It was with that spirit of devotion that Suzune finished a recording session for an upcoming anime in the morning, went alone to a nearby ramen place and ate a small tori paitan ramen (with delicious creamy chicken broth), and walked to Earpo’s office, about two train stations away. Suzune listened to a DIAGONAL song as she strolled, taking the opportunity to build stamina while also playing a walking-based app game. It was a group song, but Karin Shotsuki had always been the center for as long as she’d been part of the group, so she had far more parts than any other member. Her voice thrummed through Suzune’s body, piercing to her very core and filling her with strength. She tried to absorb these traces of her far-too-absent oshi as she walked for about an hour, until she reached the office building where the agency was located. Suzune produced a hand towel from her large tote bag and wiped away the slight sheen of sweat that had formed on her face. Her feet hurt a little. Sneakers would have been more comfortable for walking, but Suzune liked flat heel pumps. Wearing them made her feel invincible. Earpo rented the second to fifth floors of the ten-story office building, along with the basement. The first floor was a convenience store. Suzune went through the side entrance and took the elevator to the fifth floor, where the reception was located. The basement was a studio, which could be used to record demos for auditions if the booth was open. Apparently, the agency received no small amount of jobs thanks to the convenience of not having to rent a studio, especially for game or narration roles without many lines. “Good moooorning!” She gave a prompt, friendly greeting as she entered the office. This was indispensable, no matter how experienced a veteran you became. The entertainment business was governed strictly by manners and hierarchies. And it was one’s acting history that determined the pecking order. Popularity was secondary. Since people sometimes transferred, your amount of time at the agency had nothing to do with it. Suzune had started as a child actress, so technically, she had twenty years of acting under her belt. That said, she hadn’t started doing it as a serious full-time career until she became a voice actress, leaving the actual length of her career closer to eight years. “Twenty years as an actress” was a good talking point for business or talk shows, but she wouldn’t pretend it made her more of a veteran than the others. “Good morning,” came the chorus of replies from the staff and other agency talents. Glancing around, Suzune spotted Yuika in the lounge that was freely available to use for breaks or quick meetings. The agency’s voice actors didn’t have their own seats or desks. When they needed to fill out paperwork, they would use the lounge or borrow their manager’s desk. All three tables in the lounge were crowded with voice actors. Suzune greeted them with more “good mornings” as she made her way to a chair next to Yuika. “I wonder what this is all about?” Suzune smoothed out the skirt of her sleeveless dress as she sat down. There was a small insulated stainless-steel bottle on the table in front of Yuika. She kept it perpetually filled with Chinese herbal tea that was supposed to be good for the throat. Suzune had tried a sip of it once and had found it too bitter to bear. “Sounds like the president wants to personally talk to us about something.” It was impossible to tell from this information whether the news would be good or bad. But Suzune suspected that this was a bad sign more likely than not. “You don’t think they’re going bankrupt or something, do you?” “I doubt it… Although, I guess I’ve never paid much attention to the company’s financial situation.” “Me neither…” While Suzune and Yuika were affiliated with the agency, they weren’t actually employees. Voice actors were ultimately self-employed. The other voice actors around them seemed a little worried, too; nobody was having an especially lively conversation. It was unusually quiet, despite the fact there were two relatively major industry veterans present. “Do you have work after this, Yuika?” “Not exactly… I’m doing vocal training. I hear I might be getting a character song soon, so I’ve got to be prepared. What about you, Suzu?” “I have one more recording session. It’s just a commercial for a mobile game, though.” “Down here?” Yuika pointed toward the basement studio. “No, in Nishi-Shinjuku.” “Ahh.” It probably wouldn’t even take an hour. The night before, Suzune had inspected the materials about the character she was playing. Since she’d been cast as the main character, she played the game, too. She’d been participating in a lot of events related to games she had roles in lately. If she wasn’t actively playing the game, she wouldn’t be able to make engaging small talk about it. Suzune didn’t want to disappoint the fans attending the events, so she managed to carve out time to play whenever she could. Some days, all she could do was log in, but still, she was keeping it up. The problem, of course, was that all these games were fun and addicting—they were becoming a serious time sink. Currently, she was playing eight different games. Even just logging in and completing the daily missions for each one took a considerable amount of time. She would try to squeeze them in during commutes and waiting periods. The door to the meeting room opened with a ker-clack, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “Thank you for waiting.” First to emerge was Youko Aoyama, the chief manager of the company. She had a powerful presence despite still being in her mid-forties; even older veteran voice actors straightened up a little in her company. Naturally, Suzune and the others did just that. Everyone stood up and started to greet her respectfully, only to stop when she briskly held up her hand. The president, Gorou Morisaki, appeared next. A rugby player since his college days, he was a bulky, muscular man in his fifties. Combined with his height of nearly 190 centimeters, he cut an intimidating figure—or he would have, if he wasn’t constantly smiling to offset that impression. “Oho. Quite a gathering we’ve got here.” A flash of white teeth gleamed when he smiled—like an anime character, Suzune always thought. “We have a new player joining our team as of today, so we wanted to introduce you.” Being very sports-minded, he referred to the company as a “team” and the affiliated voice actors as “players.” The president stepped to one side, revealing a young woman in an oversized hoodie and gaucho pants. Suzune hadn’t even realized there was someone behind the massive man who led their company. But the second she laid eyes on her… HYAGH! …a strange sound nearly escaped her throat. An indescribable shiver ran from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, and she felt her hair stand on end. Her scalp seemed to strain at the seams. No way, no way, no waaay! She managed to restrain her well-trained vocal cords from letting out a strangled scream. Her whole body broke into a profuse sweat. Her eyes hurt. Her chest ached. She felt like she could die—but no, she couldn’t! Not now! AAAAAAAH! The person standing behind the president… The angel who had descended from the heavens into their office… It was none other than… K-KARIN-SAMAAAAA?! “This is Karin Shotsuki, who’s joining our agency as of today.” The president beamed with pride, like he was revealing a prized treasure. There was no mistake—no doubt about it. It’s really her…the real Karin-sama, in the flesh…! Suzune trembled uncontrollably, bringing both hands to her chest. Her heart was pounding out of control. Her brain was on fire. She hoped blood wasn’t gushing out of her nose. “I imagine many of you have heard of her?” OF COURSE! “The idol group she was a member of, DIAGONAL, has done songs for several anime.” And they were all the best songs ever! “Karin’s manager at her previous agency is an old friend of mine. We were discussing her future and after confirming a few things and, well, making a few calls, she’ll now be working with us. I hope you’ll all help show her the ropes of voice acting and being part of our team.” Of course! Suzune was practically hyperventilating. Just leave it to me! The president flashed his shiny white teeth again and shuffled off to one side. “Go ahead and introduce yourself, Shotsuki-san.” “All right.” Karin Shotsuki nodded lightly and took a half step forward. These slow, soft movements were at odds with the sharpness and strength Suzune knew so well. She’d never seen Karin move like this, even in behind-the-scenes videos. Her expression was a little stiff, too; maybe she was nervous. There was a cloud dimming her usual bright, beaming smile. She’s like a little kitten coming to a new house for the first time! CUUUUTE! If Yuika could hear Suzune’s inner monologue, she would probably quip that Suzune thought anything Karin did was cute. Which was fine, since she would be correct. I’m in the same room as my oshi! Breathing the same air! I’m gonna die! Her withered fangirl heart was being steadily rehydrated. I’m being fed so well I might not need to eat for three days, she thought. Karin Shotsuki looked around the room. Our eyes met! …Maybe. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Karin Shotsuki. I don’t know up from down in the voice acting biz just yet, but I’ll do everything I can to get better. I look forward to working with everyone and receiving any guidance you can offer.” She gave a deep bow. Do we clap now?! Is it okay if I clap?! Suzune’s hands itched to come together. She looked around, but no one else seemed inclined to do so. While the veterans were smiling warmly at Karin and murmuring welcomes, a few of the younger talents were furrowing their brows slightly. Suzune wasn’t oblivious enough to be the only one cheering in this situation. But as a professional, she couldn’t just say nothing, either. Manners are the cornerstone of society, after all. If someone greets you, it’s only natural to greet them in return. Suzune clutched her hands in front of her chest and cleared her throat. Then, with the warmest welcome she could muster, she said… “Pleased to meep you!” I messed it uuuuup! Once introductions were over, Karin Shotsuki returned to the meeting room with the chief manager. Yuika still had time before her vocal training, so Suzune grabbed her arm and dragged her to the café nearest to the office. She simply had to talk to someone about it. Suzune dove into a private booth, ordered two of the black teas of the day like usual, then threw herself over the table at Yuika. “This isn’t a dream, is it?!” She had to make sure. It was entirely possible she was so desperate for her oshi that she was finally starting to hallucinate. “You’re wide awake and relatively sane,” Yuika assured her, rolling her eyes. Suzune let out a sigh of relief. So it was real, then. Karin Shotsuki’s slightly husky speaking voice, her presence, the fact that they were in the same room. Her brain was still on fire. She could almost hear it sizzling. “…Your Nilgiri tea, miss.” It was only when the tea was placed in front of her that Suzune realized she was incredibly thirsty. She wrapped her hands around the mug and drank it straight. The liquid was hot, but not so hot that it burned her throat. The proprietor of the café knew about Suzune and her colleagues’ line of work and always carefully controlled the temperature, so as not to risk causing any damage. “…Ahhh.” Suzune exhaled a tea-scented sigh and put the mug down on the saucer with a neat little clink. “I can’t believe this is really happening… Miracles do exist…” While Suzune had seen Karin in real life plenty of times, this occasion was very different. This was her first time seeing Karin in plain clothes, not an idol outfit. She’d seen casual photos and such, yes, but she knew perfectly well that those weren’t quite the real thing. But the Karin she’d seen today was the genuine article. The real Karin Shotsuki, not an idol at all. And her tense, serious face had been absolutely adorable, too. “I take it she’s the ‘oshi’ I’ve heard so much about?” Yuika picked up the small pitcher that had come only with her tea, not Suzune’s, and poured the amber liquid into her mug. It was brandy. She always added it to her black tea, though only enough to add a little fragrance. “Yes, it’s her! The one and only Karin Shotsuki! Isn’t she the cutest?!” Yuika chuckled, but she didn’t actively agree. That was fine, though. You couldn’t force your oshi on other people. Everyone’s tastes were different, after all. “I’m surprised, though. So she’s shifting lanes from an idol to a voice actress…unless our agency is expanding its horizons, perhaps?” Yuika said. “No, I don’t think so. The president did say he wants us to ‘show her the ropes of voice acting’ and all.” “I guess that means she came here because she wants to become a voice actress, then. How’s her acting anyway?” Suzune cocked her head. “Karin-sama’s never been in TV shows or movies before.” As much as she hated to admit it, DIAGONAL wasn’t such a superstar idol group that they would get major offers like that. They had never had their own TV show, and the only commercials their songs appeared in were all anime-related. While they had music videos, they mainly focused on the dance performances. Even when there were solo acting shots, there was no dialogue, since the song was playing over it. “Hrmm…she’s an unknown quantity, then.” “But the fact that they took her on at such a strange time of year must mean that they have high hopes for her, right?” “They have high hopes for something about her anyway.” Yuika’s pointed tone gave Suzune pause. “What do you mean?” “Well, she’s a relatively well-known idol…” Yuika raised a finger. “Good at singing and dancing…” A second finger. “And she already has a built-in fanbase.” A third. “These are all pretty big advantages for a newcomer. I’m sure her reappearance will generate a lot of buzz, too.” Suzune opened her mouth to protest that it wasn’t fair to put it like that, then shut it again. Because Yuika was right. These days, there was more to being a voice actress than just good acting. That was only the bare minimum. Many job offers also came with the condition of musical performances. The amount of times you were obligated to show your face—doing photoshoots, appearing in online shows—was increasing, too. Since Karin was already well-known as an idol, she would probably be requested by name for jobs like these. Some might even care more about her being a trending topic than her acting skills. “B-but I’m sure Karin-sama can act, too! When she was an idol, she always worked harder than anyone to strive for perfection! She would never give any performance anything less than her best! I believe in her!” Suzune clenched her fists, and Yuika chuckled. “Okay, Suzu. That may very well be true. Just try not to get overexcited, okay? I’m sure some of our colleagues aren’t exactly thrilled about this development, even if they don’t let that show.” She knew that, of course. There was a limit to how many audition offers the agency received. A new voice actress meant fewer chances for everyone else. The world of entertainment was a meritocracy. You used your resume, popularity, and obviously acting skills to go after the jobs you wanted. Even your social media following could be weaponized to put yourself ahead of the pack. Everyone was well aware of that. But that didn’t make it feel any less personal. It was all too easy to get depressed when you flubbed an audition and sometimes even resent the person who landed the part. “Does that include you, Yuika…?” “Me?” Yuika blinked a few times, then laughed. “No, I couldn’t care less. Aside from character songs, I don’t do singing and dancing anyway, and as far as I could tell from her speaking voice, I doubt we’ll be competing for the same roles.” She had a point there. Yuika’s wheelhouse was primarily “adult woman” characters. So while she didn’t play many leading roles, she was indispensable for secondary characters. Of course, it was entirely possible that Karin could act in a wide range of roles from children to adults. But Yuika’s voice and acting were very unique. She frequently dubbed main roles in foreign films, too. While dubbing generally didn’t pay as much, it was a great way to establish an image for yourself, and you could even become the exclusive dub voice for a foreign actress. Yuika might not stand out much, but she was one of the agency’s top earners. However, not all voice actresses were like her. The relationship between the actors and the agency was ultimately a business transaction. In the end, a voice actor who didn’t bring in a profit was dead weight as far as the agency was concerned. There were still labor costs involved in keeping someone on board. If the company felt it was unlikely that you would become profitable for them in the future, your contract wouldn’t be renewed. Of course, if a voice actor felt that the agency wasn’t managing them the way they wanted, they could also break off the relationship, but that was much harder. “What about you, Suzu? You don’t see her as a threat?” Yuika’s smile took on a slightly twisted edge. “You mean to me?” Suzune hadn’t even thought about it. It was true, they might end up trying out for a lot of the same parts. Right now, Suzune got multiple auditions for main roles every season. However, many of those clients might take an interest in Karin. It was in the agency’s best interest to have more regular cast members, so they would be sure to give Karin a lion’s share of those opportunities. “I’ll take that as a no.” Suzune blinked in surprise at the obvious amusement in Yuika’s tone. “I mean, come on. You’re grinning like an idiot at the thought you might get to go to auditions together.” “A-am I really?” Suzune quickly brought her hands to her cheeks, as if this would somehow help her visualize her own facial expression. “What, are you that confident in your skills as a veteran?” “No, not in the slightest. I still fail auditions all the time, for one thing.” She only passed about ten percent of the auditions she got. Still, that was a roaring success as far as she was concerned. When she was starting out, she would sometimes go a whole season without landing a single minor role, never mind a leading one. “I can’t waste time worrying about other people, that’s all. Besides, Karin-sama earned her advantages with hard work and determination.” There was no point envying or resenting her for that. “If only everyone could see things that way.” Suzune knew exactly what Yuika meant. They’d seen quite a few colleagues quit the agency over the years. Some of them had even told Suzune to her face they would’ve done better if she wasn’t their competition, all while lamenting their own uselessness. Others went the freelance route, claiming that the company was holding them back. It wasn’t as if Suzune was a jealousy-free person by nature, of course. She just made a point of reminding herself every day not to compare herself to others. Hard work was the key. Except, there were times when it came down to other factors like luck or connections, things that no amount of effort could overcome. So Suzune understood why people wanted someone else to blame at times like those. With her advantages, Karin Shotsuki was bound to be the target of that kind of envy. But surely, she’d already taken that into consideration. She still chose this path, despite all the likely barriers. That was the kind of idol Karin Shotsuki was, after all. “Karin-sama will be fine. I’m sure of it!” Suzune declared. It just made her want to support her oshi all the more!