In the small conference room, Murakami Iori was lost in thought, Fujii Arima was pleasantly surprised, and Chihara Rinto remained perplexed.
Meanwhile, Nambu Ryoko silently applauded from the corner, her excitement evident as she mouthed to Michiko, "Great job! Keep acting like you did during our practice scene with Mom. You've got this—don't let this opportunity slip away!"
After completing the short audition, Michiko stopped, bowed deeply to thank the crew member assisting her, then stood quietly by the side, staring at her toes. Her demeanor shifted once again, exuding the aura of an impeccably well-behaved child.
Murakami Iori couldn't resist giving Chihara Rinto a light pat on the back, silently thanking him for his persistence in not letting such a talented, suitable, and affordable gem slip through their fingers. Turning to Nambu Ryoko, she smiled warmly. "Nambu-san, please take your daughter outside to await our decision. We'll notify you as soon as we finalize everything."
The decision had already been made, but appearances mattered—to maintain the illusion of fairness for all auditionees.
Nambu Ryoko clearly cherished this opportunity. For a young model struggling to break into television, it was incredibly rare. In the past, even with determination, she'd struggled to find opportunities—like carrying a sacrificial offering but failing to locate the temple gate.
Anxiously, she bowed repeatedly. "Thank you very much for your hard work. Please do consider Michiko carefully. She truly has talent."
"Rest assured; we'll take everything into account," Murakami reassured her.
Not daring to say more for fear of offending the "judges" and ruining this serendipitous chance, Nambu Ryoko and Michiko bowed once more before leaving together. Meanwhile, Chihara Rinto remained puzzled, sensing something amiss. Was the contrast between Michiko's earlier nervousness and her later performance really that stark?
Perhaps her fear stemmed from being alone, and her mother's presence calmed her enough to unleash her true abilities. That explanation seemed plausible—after all, stage fright was common at her age.
Murakami Iori didn't bother consulting her creative team further, decisively casting Michiko as "Miho." Hoping to make the show an instant hit with the very first episode—and potentially reuse her for future roles—they planned to capitalize on her affordability while transitioning from modeling to acting. The girl radiated star potential; sooner or later, she'd shine.
---
Finding affordable yet talented child actors wasn't easy, but casting other roles proved simpler. Soon, the cast list for the first two episodes was nearly finalized. The remaining tasks fell to Murakami Iori: negotiating contracts and coordinating schedules. Fortunately, these actors weren't in high demand, so coordinating their availability required minimal effort.
Once contracts were signed, the director's responsibilities began. This included script readings to establish performance tones and crafting shooting schedules—deciding who should appear when and ensuring timely arrivals.
Chihara Rinto listened attentively to their division of labor and planning discussions, finding the experience enlightening. However, Murakami Iori's habitual prodding resurfaced, urging him to return and focus on writing more scripts.
Though Chihara insisted he could write undisturbed here, Murakami argued efficiency would improve in a quieter environment. Essentially, her message boiled down to: "Chihara, go back. These tasks are mine to handle, but your work is irreplaceable."
She even considered escorting Chihara back to headquarters before returning to finalize matters herself—general interactions could be handled by regular staff initially.
Chihara, resigned and powerless against this understated yet tenacious producer (and his superior), refrained from deploying his years-honed "lonely bachelor glare" and returned to headquarters. But just as he stepped outside, someone abruptly appeared, exclaiming enthusiastically, "Chihara-sensei, thank you so much!"
Startled, Chihara recognized Nambu Ryoko and quickly replied, "No need to thank me—it was Michiko's excellent performance."
"Oh no, I heard everything from the staff! If it weren't for Chihara-sensei giving Michiko multiple chances, she wouldn't have gotten this role! Thank you so much for giving her the opportunity to prove herself!"
Chihara politely responded, and noticing Murakami Iori behind them, Nambu Ryoko rushed over to express her gratitude. "Murakami-san, thank you so much! Michiko's still young, so please take good care of her… By the way, where's Supervisor Fujii? I'd like to thank him personally too."
(Supervisor being another term for director, commonly used in Japan.)
"No need to be so formal," Murakami Iori responded warmly, clearly optimistic about Michiko's future. Smiling, she added, "Director Fujii's busy right now, but I'll be sure to pass along your thanks."
Chihara shook his head, glancing down to see Michiko standing nearby, her head lowered shyly. Thoughtfully, he offered encouragement. "Don't worry—your acting is great. Have confidence in yourself. Just work on building your mental resilience."
Though talented, Michiko's psychological fortitude needed strengthening. Behind-the-scenes staff generally fostered cooperative relationships, but among actors, competition thrived—especially among female peers of similar types. Jealousy, sabotage, and rivalry abounded. Poor mental resilience could easily lead to depression under constant pressure.
Moreover, the entertainment industry carried immense risks. A single flop could brand an actor as "box office poison," subjecting them to public scorn. Without strong mental fortitude, anyone could crumble.
This industry wasn't for the faint-hearted!
Chihara's advice stemmed from genuine concern. Michiko glanced up at him, attempting a polite, sweet smile but failing. After a brief silence, she gave up, scanning her surroundings. Seeing her mother engaged in conversation and no one else paying attention, she lowered her head again. Her neat bangs cast a faint shadow over her once-pure eyes.
Coldly, she retorted under her breath, "Mind your own business!"
Chihara froze, taken aback. Mind my own business? Didn't I essentially discover you? Brushing off my efforts hardly counts as polite!
Immature and ungrateful?
His smile vanished, brows furrowing as he fixed her with a penetrating gaze. "What do you mean by that?"
In the production world, antagonizing a screenwriter was never wise.
Michiko flinched slightly, intimidated, but her resentment burned fiercely. Glaring back, she whispered, "You should know what I mean. I'd already failed until you meddled. Was it really so amusing to interfere?"
Realization dawned on Chihara. Astonished, he asked, "You don't want to act?" This possibility hadn't crossed his mind. Landing a television role—even as a minor character—was a coveted opportunity, often seen as a status upgrade. Some actresses would go to extreme lengths for such a chance!
It was a significant favor!
"No one wants to be a puppet!" Michiko snapped, her gratitude nonexistent. Her face darkened further, her once-pure eyes now pitch-black, reflecting no light—a chilling sight.
She had successfully faked incompetence earlier, thinking she'd cleared the hurdle. But Chihara's insistence on recalling her had shattered her plans. Reflecting bitterly, she couldn't contain her frustration.
She shouldn't have snapped back or been rude—it contradicted her carefully crafted persona of sweetness and obedience. A perfunctory, saccharine smile would've sufficed. Yet, emotions overwhelmed her. How could she not vent her resentment toward the person who ruined her scheme?
Are you blind? I acted so poorly—how could you possibly see talent in me? Why insist on dragging me back?
Are you insane? I didn't want to act—why force me to perform repeatedly?
Jerk!
Chihara was stunned by the implications behind "puppet." Speechless, he realized—this girl was far more mature than she appeared, her dual nature perfectly suited for portraying Miho's split personality…
An awkward silence settled between them, escalating into a staring contest. From across the room, Nambu Ryoko called out, "Michiko, come thank Murakami-san!"
"Yes, Mom!" Michiko responded, casting one last deep look at Chihara before scurrying over to Murakami Iori. Bowing deeply, she instantly reverted to her practiced persona, smiling sweetly. "Thank you, Murakami-san! I'll work hard."
Unable to resist her charm, Murakami Iori's maternal instincts kicked in. Gently ruffling Michiko's hair, she smiled warmly. "Do your best!"
Truly, such a talented and well-behaved child!