"Share... half of my future life with you?"
Is this... a confession?It has to be a confession, right?Wait... no...Could this actually be a marriage proposal?!
Her face, honed by innate acting talent to a perfect, expressionless canvas, didn't so much as twitch. Internally, however, was a different story—a storm of confusion, panic, and a fluttery, unfamiliar warmth that made her chest feel tight.
The raven-haired girl was no stranger to confessions. She'd received them from boys, and even from a few brave girls, often enough to have crafted a polite, formulaic rejection she could deploy on autopilot.
Yet, facing this boy whose name she didn't even know, listening to his impassioned, slightly chaotic speech, her carefully maintained composure was cracking. Her heart was doing a frantic doki-doki beat against her ribs, so loud she was sure he could hear it. In her fluster, she'd even missed the tail end of his words!
Kuroha Akira, completely oblivious to the internal meltdown he'd triggered, mistook her silence for simple confusion. He pressed on, his tone shifting to one of earnest analysis.
"That's right. As I stated, my assessment is complete. You genuinely possess the potential to become a star—and this isn't a conclusion drawn from superficial appearance alone. Besides," he added with a pragmatic tilt of his head, "if it were just about looks, I wouldn't have needed to observe you for so long, would I?"
…He has a point, a sliver of her rational mind conceded. If his goal was merely a pretty face, his gaze would have settled the moment he approached. There was no need for that intense, scrutinizing look at her… hands.
Her hands? Why was he looking at her hands?Her fingers, specifically?Could it be…?Was he… checking her ring finger?!
"M-Mm…"She managed a non-committal hum, swiftly hiding her hands behind her back. Her right thumb unconsciously found the base of her left ring finger, rubbing the spot in a self-conscious circle.
"My initial interest was certainly captured by your appearance," Akira continued, his voice clinical, as if presenting a research report. "But now, I consider that merely a bonus. It's preferable, of course, but non-essential."
He meant every word. With an SSS-rank talent like hers, she could carve a path without ever relying on her looks. She was a diamond in the rough, her brilliance inherent, not painted on.
"To be perfectly clear," he stated, his gaze unwavering and serious, "even if you were to be disfigured, I would choose you without a moment's hesitation."
"Eek?!"A tiny, utterly undignified squeak escaped her lips before she could clamp down on it.
Huh? Wha—?His words replayed in her mind, each repetition deepening her bewilderment.'Even if you were disfigured'?He was saying her face didn't matter?That was… impossible. Wasn't it?
The black-haired beauty held a firm, if cynical, belief about men: their criteria were simple, timeless. Youth. Beauty. A nice figure. She happened to check all those boxes. A disfigured woman? That was tantamount to being ugly in the cruel calculus of the world she knew. This had to be just smooth-talking, the kind of too-sweet line meant to make a girl's heart skip a beat!
After all, this face of hers was her last remaining asset—the very thing that had cost her her home. If he were a real scout, how could he possibly disregard it?
Steeling herself against the seductive lure of his words, she decided to test him, her voice cautiously probing. "Are you suggesting… I could pursue a career as an artist without ever showing my face?"
"Naturally. You could become a Voice Actor."Kuroha Akira's reply was instantaneous and matter-of-fact, devoid of any disappointment.
"…!"He truly didn't care.The realization struck her with the force of a minor quake. He was serious.
And Akira was serious. The three dazzling S-ranks hovering above her were what he valued. They offered a smorgasbord of career paths. If she preferred the shadows to the spotlight, so be it. As long as she didn't abandon her talents entirely, he was content to let her choose.
Forcing her would only breed resentment, and a resentful cash cow was a troublesome one. A happy, willing partner was a far more sustainable investment. Besides, in voice-actor-obsessed Japan, a top-tier seiyuu earned more than enough to support a very comfortable living for two.
I should look up the top seiyuu salaries when I get home, he mused internally. It should be more than sufficient for my plans.
Shifting gears, his expression grew graver.
"However," he said, the word hanging heavily in the air between them, "to be honest, you are something of a… hot potato."
"Huh…?"The girl, who had been tentatively navigating the maze of her own feelings, blinked. The romantic atmosphere she'd been imagining suddenly evaporated, replaced by a chill of foreboding.Is he… is he going to say he's changed his mind after leading me on?!
"Your talent is too brilliant, too dazzling," Akira explained, his voice low. "In the life that awaits you, you will inevitably attract those who envy you, who resent you, who seek to ostracize you or frame you. There will be those who covet your beauty, lust after your body, and wish to devour you whole for their own gain."
…Like you're doing right now? the thought flickered, unbidden, in the back of her mind.
"The path you're choosing doesn't lead to a fair playground where talent alone wins the day. It leads to the dirty, manipulative underbelly of the adult world."
"…"His words were like a splash of cold water, shocking her out of her brief, flustered daze. This was serious. Deadly serious.
"You would have to bear the world's malice all by yourself."
"…"Malice.That word resonated deep within her, awakening a familiar, hollow ache.She knew malice. Intimately.She knew the sting of being disliked, especially by those whose approval she once craved most. It was a pain like a slow puncture to the soul.
"You'll walk it alone. Colleagues will envy you. Seniors will undermine you. Juniors will smile to your face while plotting your downfall. They'll offer superficial praise, all while secretly praying for a scandal to ruin you, for your career to crash and burn."
Here, Akira paused, realizing his description had grown perhaps too bleak, too chuunibyou. He dialed it back a fraction. "Well, of course, with luck, you might meet some genuinely good people. But could you face everyone with unwavering kindness? Could you forgive every betrayal without holding a single grudge?"
The girl was silent for a long moment. She looked down at her own shadow stretching on the concrete, then met his eyes, her own now clear and resolved. The last traces of girlish confusion were gone.
"No," she said, her voice quiet but firm.
"...I can't."
She was no saint, and she had no desire to become one. Her brief life had taught her a painful lesson: some malice was a stubborn stain, impossible to scrub away no matter how hard you tried. Enduring it endlessly wasn't noble—it was a slow poison that soured everything. If kindness brought no peace, then perhaps a little selfishness was the truer path to comfort. She just needed to protect her own heart.
"And that," Kuroha Akira declared, striking a confident pose and thumbing his own chest with theatrical flair, "is precisely where I come in!"
He leaned in slightly, his expression shifting from mentor to ambitious partner. "If you choose to entrust your career—your path—to me, then your only job is to burn as brightly as you can. Shine with everything you've got. Leave the shadows, the negotiations, the dirty work… all of that, you leave to me."
Then, it was time for the bottom line. The real talk.
"But," he said, his voice dropping to a more serious, business-like tone. He held up a finger for emphasis. "I want half."
"...Half?" The word left her lips softly, laden with unspoken questions.
"That's right. After you debut, half of everything you earn comes to me. A straight fifty-fifty split." Having laid out his frankly audacious demand, even Akira had to chuckle internally.
Man, I'm kind of the worst, aren't I? Rolling up like a villain to make an offer she can't refuse when she's at her lowest. The thought that followed was considerably brighter: But raising an SSS-rank hidden gem into a superstar… isn't that just life playing on easy mode? My days of leisurely bliss are practically within reach!
"..."
The black-haired girl felt no surge of excitement at his words. Instead, a faint, cold disappointment settled in her chest. So that's what he meant by 'half.' It was always about this.
"Money…" she murmured, her gaze drifting to the worn stone beneath their feet. "Is it really that important?"
"It's everything," Akira stated without a hint of shame. "Think about it. If you had it right now, would you be standing here in this dusty shrine, waiting for… for whatever might come?" He gestured vaguely around them. "And just to be perfectly clear, even if you were seriously offering what you implied earlier, I couldn't afford you. My pockets are so empty, the moths have formed a union and gone on strike."
"..."
In that moment, the girl understood the boy before her was, at his core, a deeply pragmatic and perhaps mercenary creature. Yet… it was this same boy who had seen something in her, who had stretched out his hand. And foolishly, incredibly, her heart had still skipped a beat.
"Alright," she said, her voice firming with resolve. "You've convinced me. For the first time, the shape of my future feels… clear."
"Meaning?"
"I can give you your half."
"I sense a 'but' hovering."
"But," she confirmed, locking her dark, serious eyes with his. "I need one confirmation first. You asked me what my goal was earlier, correct?"
"I did."
"Then… what if I said I wanted to become the queen of the entertainment industry? The very top." Her voice was calm, but the ambition within it was a silent, dazzling fire.
Akira's lips curled into a grin that held no mockery, only sheer, anticipatory glee. Such a glorious, magnificent golden thigh! I must latch on and never let go!
"If you have the will to walk that road all the way to the summit," he said, his own tone matching her seriousness, "then I'll be right there with you, all the way to the very end."
"Good." A subtle light flickered in her eyes. "Then, let's exchange."
"Exchange?"
"You're asking for half of my life. It's only fair you offer something in return, isn't it?" Her logic was impeccable.
"Uh…" Akira's confidence faltered. Crap, she's right. A transaction needs consideration. He instinctively moved to empty his pockets to prove his literal poverty, but his hands froze midway.
A certain… important and inconvenient item rested within. I can't possibly pull out the class rep's panties as a bargaining chip! The scenario would jump genres entirely!
Just as he was mentally scrambling, the girl's gaze fell to the side, offering him salvation.
"That bottle of milk will do."
"Huh? This?" Akira looked down at the unopened bottle of milk in his hand, bewildered. At their feet, Kuroo paused her grooming to offer a curious "Nya?" as if following the negotiation.
The girl simply gave a silent, definitive nod.
"Yes. That is enough."
"..." Akira understood then. This wasn't about the milk's value. It was about symbolism. A ritual to close one chapter and begin another. A tangible token to seal their pact. Besides, the milk was a freebie from the class rep anyway, originally meant for Kuroo. This was a more than fair trade.
"Here."
He offered the bottle. The girl reached out with her right hand and took it, her fingers brushing his. But just as he was about to let go, her left hand came up, gently pressing down atop his, trapping his hand between the warm plastic and her cool, smooth skin.
"Very well… I have received it."
Her voice was low, solemn, and carried the weight of a sacred vow. In the quiet of the abandoned shrine, it felt less like a conversation and more like the chanting of an oath.
"In exchange, you may mold me into whatever shape you desire. I will follow your guidance without condition. My future… is yours to design."
Having spoken, she released his hand. Then, she looked up at him. And for the first time since they'd met, her lips curved.
It was a smile. Small, tentative, but utterly breathtaking—a sudden bloom of warmth in a field of ice, so vivid and unexpected it seared itself into Kuroha Akira's memory, a scene he knew he would recall for years to come.
"From now on," she said, the smile still touching her eyes, "I am yours."