Chapter 11
"Wait, what did you just say?"
"I mean, I'm kind of tempted."
"That's not the part. Are you telling me Hojo Shione is his girlfriend?"
"What nonsense—his girlfriend's supposed to be me, isn't she?"
Takahashi Mio's eyes snapped open; her delicately arched brows pinched together, irritation clear in her voice.
"Oh, so you're saying she's the ex-girlfriend? Shione's the ex?"
"Mm... that's what he told me..."
Mio answered distractedly, then reflexively shot back,
"But how is that even possible?"
"There's no way Shione could have any connection with him. He's probably like those hopeless otaku who fantasise about idols—you know the type..."
She rattled off to Haruno Reika how Shiratori Seiya had hidden promotional posters of Shione in his car and treated them like treasured photos.
Mio argued her point at length, insisting it was flat-out impossible.
After listening, Reika considered for a moment and said,
"Hard to say."
"..."
Mio's eyelid twitched; she sat bolt upright.
Annoyance flared.
Why was everything suddenly "hard to say"?
She knew Reika was cautious by nature, yet lately, whenever Seiya came up, the answer was always the same evasive phrase...
Mio pouted, forcing herself to ask,
"So what's your brilliant take?"
"He's loaded. He could easily keep Shione as his sugar-baby. Online rumours say some wealthy backer is propping her up—otherwise she couldn't have blown up so fast."
"Oh..."
Mio's lips parted; some of the irritation drained away.
She slid back down the wall.
"If you put it that way, I suppose it's not impossible."
"Hmm?"
Reika sounded puzzled over the phone.
"Mio, I thought you hated hearing bad gossip about Shione?"
Takahashi Mio was a full-blown Shionechi.
Ever since watching the teen-singer newcomer's contest on TV—seeing Shione's confident stage presence, hearing her captivating voice—Mio had been hopelessly hooked.
She streamed Shione's songs daily and always queued them at karaoke.
A die-hard fan, through and through.
Once an idol gets famous, all kinds of trash talk starts. Whenever friends badmouthed Shione, Mio would smile and deflect—"Who knows? The media probably exaggerates. But her songs are amazing, right?"—yet the moment she spotted online trolls, she turned into a top-tier flamer, asking if their family graves were buried in Fukushima.
Reika had long since realised Mio was in too deep; during the worst of the rumours she had kept silent.
Recently the slander had died down, so Mio wasn't spending every night battling haters online.
Even so, Reika hadn't expected Mio to react so calmly to the kept-woman story.
When Reika pressed her, Mio's face stiffened. She chewed her words before replying,
"I'm just following your logic. Theoretically, it's possible..."
Deep down, she couldn't accept that the two might once have dated.
Though Shione's charm rivalled her own, it still felt like being outshone.
It rankled.
And if—just if—Shione really had been Seiya's girlfriend, Mio preferred imagining it as a transaction forced on Shione by grim reality. That would let her feel they shared the same rotten luck, and the sting would ease.
"So, what do you think? Do you actually want to be an actress?"
"No."
Mio answered instantly.
"I said I was tempted, not that I'd actually do it. Even if Seiya's telling the truth, if Dad finds out I'm acting he'll probably break my legs..."
Reika fell silent.
She'd known Mio since high school. The day a scout had spotted Mio in the mall, Reika had been right beside her.
She knew Mio loved the spotlight—student clubs, cliques, everywhere. Mio never said anything ostentatious; she just arranged the details so all eyes slid her way.
Those accessories, bags, clothes that a girl from her background shouldn't afford—they were props to make people look.
Reika had expected Mio to at least think it over with her family; instead she'd refused on the spot.
Only later did Reika learn that Mio's father was an old-school Showa fossil who thought a woman's destiny was to become a housewife and raise kids.
Anything beyond the school uniform was frowned upon; Mio had been allowed only yukata and the plainest casual wear.
Reika figured Mio's current splurge—two million yen in credit-card debt—was backlash from years of repression.
"I'm just day-dreaming..."
"If I can't be a star, it's still fun to imagine, right? Besides, I'm too old. Real actors start as child stars; they've got connections and skills I'll never catch up to..."
"That's only part of the picture. Plenty of people start training in college and debut two or three years after graduation. How are you behind them?"
Reika pushed gently.
"Why not try, Mio? You've already moved out. Take a few classes, do some small stage roles—your folks won't even know. By the time you graduate, your father won't have a say."
"..."
Silence stretched over the line.
After a moment Mio laughed lightly.
"Forget it. I don't actually want to act that badly. It's exhausting, and the rumours are gross. Everyone online says showbiz is hell—'this one slept her way up, that one's a sugar-baby'..."
"Besides, what if that guy scams me into signing some contract and I end up in an adult film? I'd rather die."
"Okay..."
"All right, let's leave it there, Reika. I'm beat. We'll talk properly when we see each other."
Reika started to say something more, but hearing the fatigue in the girl's voice she simply murmured good night and hung up.
"..."
Mio tossed the phone aside. The cramped, dim room fell silent.
She stared at the ceiling without speaking.
A sliver of pale moonlight slipped through the window, falling on the poster of Hojo Shione taped to the wall.
Her gaze followed the light.
She couldn't help raising her hand slowly, peering at the idol's face through her fingers.
For an instant, Mio felt as if the girl on the poster were herself.
Seiya's words echoed in her mind:
"Have you ever thought that one day you might stand on a stage, appear on screen?"
"Don't say 'I could never.' Unless you try, you'll never know how brightly you can shine."
Clouds drifted across the sky; the full moon vanished, and the room plunged into darkness.
Mio snapped back to reality.
She stared blankly, then gave a self-mocking smile, yanked the quilt over her head, and burrowed in.
"Pipe dream."