After a round of introductions and some rousing speeches, the welcome party shifted into free-flowing chatter.
Takizawa dug in with gusto, determined not to waste a free spread of food and drink.
The table buzzed with clinking glasses and bursts of laughter.
"Youngest ones here are Takizawa and Sakura, right?" Yoshimura Haruka, a poised and stunning woman with a knack for livening things up, deliberately pulled the two into the conversation.
"Guess so, but I'm in my final year of high school, and with the year-end coming, I'll hit twenty next year," Takizawa replied with a grin.
"Why'd you want to be a voice actor?" Yoshimura asked, curious.
"…Just kinda happened."
"Talk about humble," Iwasawa Toshiki, a vibrant college-student type with a bold smile, chimed in. "I heard your audition scores were the best in our batch. No way 'just happened' cuts it. The training schools start you at the basics—we all clawed our way up, and even then, most of us flunk the agency entrance exam. Matsuoka here bombed it last year. Don't let his looks fool you—he was a star at the academy, even landed a magazine interview."
"Let's not talk about my flops," Matsuoka tilted his head, flashing an embarrassed smile.
"There's definitely some luck involved," Takizawa said vaguely.
"Luck? You passed the brutal rookie training exam, got a full scholarship, and nailed the agency audition with top marks on your first try," Iwasawa said, sipping his orange juice. "Stop downplaying it—you're making us feel bad."
"Doing all that in a year? That's insane," Matsuoka murmured, clearly impressed.
"Some people are just born for certain fields, you know."
…Sounds like Takizawa was a beast, Takizawa thought, chewing on tender, perfectly cooked beef.
"What about you, Sakura-chan?" Yoshimura turned to the high school girl fiddling with her phone.
Takizawa finally got a good look at the girl sitting nearby.
Glossy black hair spilled past her ears, her cheeks still soft with a hint of baby fat, flushed with a healthy glow. Her eyes, half-hidden behind wispy bangs, darted like a cautious animal sizing up an unpredictable world.
Despite her light, age-appropriate makeup, her glossy lips shimmered like jelly, lending her an air of premature allure.
Their eyes met briefly, and she flinched, gaze skittering away like a startled deer. But she quickly composed herself, offering a polite smile as she answered.
"I thought it'd be fun and fulfilling, so I worked hard for it."
"Who do you like to read?" Yoshimura pressed.
"…Kuniko Mukoda."
"Wow, such a Showa-era answer! Do you like vintage stuff, Sakura-chan?"
"My dad's into it, and it rubbed off on me."
"So, how's it going? Anyone at school know you're about to debut as a voice actor? Especially the anime-obsessed guys?"
"Um… I don't really have friends close enough to tell."
"Oh, got it. Schoolwork heavy these days? Balancing studies with a debut sounds tough."
"My parents will help."
The conversation slid into girl talk, mostly Yoshimura asking questions and Sakura answering passively.
Keeping everyone included and the vibe lively was no small feat.
"Let's raise a toast!" Takizawa suggested.
Everyone stood, glasses clinking loudly, a flurry of cheers following. As they sat, the slightly awkward girl-talk wrapped up neatly.
"I'm gonna pop over and say hi," Takizawa said, refilling his juice and heading to the other table.
That table was all seasoned workers—toss out a joke, and someone always caught it. The vibe was warm and easy, especially with the two agents there. Takizawa got swept up, lingering to swap stories.
"Matsuoka, let's go say hi too," Iwasawa said.
"Uh, what do I even say?" Matsuoka hesitated, clearly out of his depth.
"No need to overthink it—let's go!" Iwasawa dragged him over.
Sakura glanced at the lively scene across the room, the sharp tang of alcohol wafting from afar. The girl wrinkled her nose unconsciously, checked the time, and waited patiently.
About half an hour later, Takizawa and the others returned.
The other table had gotten rowdier, and Takizawa, sticking to juice, was stuffed to the brim. Matsuoka and Iwasawa, who'd actually been drinking, were flushed and glassy-eyed.
The thirty-something agent had his tie off, wrapped around his forehead, performing a Noh dance while others clapped along.
With such a spirited example, the eager newbies weren't about to lag. Someone stripped off their shirt, itching for a solo sumo match.
Kashiwai Ippei was a bit tipsy, wine stains on his shirt, but he held a thread of clarity. Glancing at his sleek watch, he announced the party was wrapping up and hauled his dancing colleague to settle the bill.
The rest spilled outside, breathing in the crisp night air. The big-bro types passed out cigarettes. Some, still buzzing, planned a second round at a karaoke joint.
Soon, most decided to hit a nearby spot for round two.
"Catch you later," Yoshimura waved, heading for the subway. "You two okay?"
"No biggie, right?" Iwasawa laughed, slinging an arm around Matsuoka, both swaying. "Be safe getting home!"
The doorway quickly emptied, leaving just a few stragglers.
"Sakura-chan, walking home?"
Sakura subtly edged away from the boozy pair.
"I'm getting a ride."
"Taxi? Wanna share? We'll cover the fare—big adult privilege."
"Thanks, but I'm good."
"Yeah… probably for the best. If Matsuoka pukes in the car, that'd be a mess. Come on, Matsuoka, I'll get you home."
Matsuoka shook his head, slumping weakly onto the curb.
"Feeling sick? Alright, hang tight. I'll grab water from the convenience store. Sakura-chan, keep an eye on him for a bit."
Sakura watched Iwasawa stumble off in a zigzag and Matsuoka, crouched and clutching his head.
Why do people drink so much? she muttered under her breath.
Matsuoka looked queasy, dry-heaving a few times, hands halfheartedly tapping his head, mumbling to himself.
Seeing his state, Sakura cautiously leaned in.
"…Hey, you okay?"
Hearing her voice, Matsuoka reflexively croaked, "Yeah," Then turned, bloodshot eyes locking onto the high school girl.
Sakura stepped back, about to say something, but his stare held, making her instinctively retreat further.
"Sakura-san," Matsuoka said softly, his gaze drifting into the void.
"Huh?"
"You think—" He paused, looking up at the night sky, "What's life all about?"
"?!"
The sudden, bizarre question from a tipsy older guy she barely knew left the newly minted high schooler speechless, even a little spooked.
In the midst of the chaos, Kashiwai Ippei emerged, hauling a passed-out colleague on his back, with Takizawa trailing, clutching a plastic bag.
"Is Matsuoka-kun drunk?" Kashiwai blinked at the guy slumped on the curb.
"I think so," Sakura nodded quietly.
"Hm, I'm taking Okawa-san home. Matsuoka, come with us in the taxi."
"Iwasawa-san went to get water," She added.
"I'll track him down then. How're you getting home?"
"My dad's picking me up."
"Got it. Takizawa-kun, mind sticking around with her? It's past nine-thirty, and this food street's got its share of drunks. Better safe."
"Sure thing," Takizawa grinned, nodding. "Don't worry, senpai, get them home."
Soon, it was just the two of them again.
The girl scanned the street eagerly, ready to bolt, while Takizawa stayed put, perfectly at ease.
A parade of tipsy, laughing passersby filled the air with noise, making the silence between them a touch awkward.
"What's in the bag?" Sakura asked first, perhaps out of well-bred courtesy.
"Leftovers from our table. Food was too good and pricey to waste. This'll cover a couple meals," Takizawa answered honestly.
"Oh…" Sakura nodded.
The air chilled again.
"You barely ate. Won't you be hungry later?" Takizawa asked, curious.
"Dieting," She replied curtly.
"You gotta treat yourself, though. You already look plenty cute," Takizawa flashed a breezy smile, tossing out a smooth compliment.
"Haha, really?" She gave a polite, dry laugh, shifting another step away.
This kid's really shy, Takizawa thought, eyeing the high schooler now standing a solid eight paces off.
Thankfully, bright headlights soon sliced through the quiet. A sleek black car pulled up. Takizawa squinted at the model for a second, then watched the girl swiftly open the door and slip inside.
…Rich kid?
The man in the driver's seat lowered the window, offering a kind smile. Takizawa, hands full with the bag, bowed in return.
As the red taillights vanished into the neon glow, he sighed, turning to try his luck with the last subway train.
***
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