I am a mess—no, not just a mess. A total wreck.
Not the kind you can hide with a shower and a clean shirt. I'm the type of wreck that smiles in public and spirals in silence. Somehow, I've got it all and nothing at the same time. Money? Sure. Family? Technically. A life that looks just fine from the outside? Absolutely. And yet, behind all of that—nobody knows I'm a loser in disguise. Glad I escaped from home, even if what I ran into is just a different kind of chaos. But hey, it's my shit show now. That counts for something.
Today started… normal, I guess?Of course, getting up and looking at myself in the mirror was more of the usual existential stare-down. The next-door woman was already blasting the morning news at full volume—as if the world ending needed a soundtrack—and I was, as usual, late for work. I didn't even bother making breakfast. Just rushed into clothes, grabbed my phone (yes, I used the bathroom if you were wondering), and jumped the old fence out back. That fence will be the death of me one day.
I hopped on my trusty bike, pedaling like hell toward the entertainment district. Somewhere along the ride, I thought about how I used to picture myself—curled up in a cardboard box, forgotten by the world. But things turned out better than expected. Got myself a decent apartment near Fourth East High School, right next to a convenient store with the best late-night ramen. Not going to lie—I'm kind of set for life.
Well… not entirely.
There's a girl I work with. I know, cliché, right? Office crush, eyes meeting across the mic booth—it was only a matter of time. As an adult voice actor, I spend my days giving life to characters that say things I'd never dare say in real life. NSFW scripts, suggestive tones, whispered lines through headphones. Don't get me wrong—I love the job. But it messes with your head sometimes, especially when you're trying to flirt with someone who only hears you moaning in character.
Still, things are looking up. For once, I'm not running.I'm just biking fast, hoping to catch up to the version of myself that doesn't feel like a fraud.
Luckily for me I hide my identity very well, I voice-over some pretty cool anime like Chrono Mirage, Mech Dynasty: Neo Regalia, Kaiju Chef, and Shadow Bloom: Curse of the Sakura. But the one that made my career shine was "Falling from the Sky". How could I forget the innocent kid that is the ruler in another world. Pretty cool, right? I was the protagonist or rather, I voiced him. Its so awesome to see people wearing our anime merch and cosplaying at the annual Comicon and Expo. To be honest, people love the girl that my character well, shares a romantic moment with. No shame in it, they paid me a lot for that role. From there my career skyrocketed to fame, and my Alias "Hikomo Himoko" became a well-known name. I know pretty original, besides today we are recording the last episode of "Falling from the sky" I've got to give myself credit for coming up with such an amazing title, along with props to the team for bringing it to life.
I put on my usual work mask—a simple white fox mask. Enough to cover my face and give me freedom to speak, without compromising my identity. I can't have some crazy people stalking my every move. I'm not going to be the next, Harpie Nathaniel. He was a fellow voice actor who tragically died because of a deranged fan. He refused to date the guy thinking it would not be a fit for his life style. The guy had been stalking him obsessively and lost it when Harpie refused to date him, saying it didn't fit his lifestyle. What happened next was horrifying—Harpie was found dead, his head on the stove beside a twisted devil figurine. I won't let that happen to me.. I'm glad public safety was there to step in—things have gotten messy ever since the first cases of fans going crazy over their idols. That's exactly why I'd rather be safe than sorry.
The lobby of the entertainment district was buzzing with life. The moment people spotted my iconic mask, they went wild. The staff quickly worked to move me into a corner for safety, and yes, I did sign a few autographs. Sometimes I forget how incredible is to be famous, I did notice the crowd outside forming, the news of the my arrival had spread like wild fire. Never in my life saw so many people, the staff went to panic after seeing the people pouring in the lobby. They told me they had it controlled but I knew it was a lie, I mean; I could see the sweat going down there faces as they called in backup. "As always, so early to the show, Mr.Hiko." Those words cut straight to my core, sending a thrill down my spine and under my skin. t was none other than the stunning Yakimo Hekimoto. Odd name for a woman, sure, but who cared?, she is hot, I am hot, we are hot. I'd be lying if I said that tight red and orange dress didn't hug her curves so perfectly it made my hands ache to touch them. "Mr. Hiko, I see you like my dress," she said with a playful smirk. "Glad you do. I picked it with you in mind—for the photo at the end of the recording." All I could do was smile and reply, "Let's just say it catches more than my attention."
Her laughter—God, that sound—was worth every excruciating second in that booth. It rang like soft chimes in the dark, light and teasing, echoing off padded walls and embedding itself in my memory. I'll admit it now: my favorite sessions were always the experimental ones. The ones that blurred lines. The ones where the script asked for more than just breath and words.
There was that one scene—still etched in my nerves—where our characters had to share body heat. We recorded it in the same room, lights off, mic between us like a secret. No barriers, no distance, just the closeness of her breath and the trembling in mine.
I remember her hands first. Curious, gentle. Sliding down my chest like she was mapping out something delicate. Then lower—closer—to a place that made my voice crack just slightly, and made her giggle in that way that drove me mad. The producer thought we were just hitting our marks. Delivering lines. Following direction. But in that blacked-out room, every shift of her weight, every brush of skin, told me otherwise.
I could feel her hips when she leaned in. Wide. Intentional. Like the curves of a dream you wake up from aching.And when the script called for a kiss, we followed it. Lips meeting softly at first—then lingering. Too long. Too real. My mind kept whispering this is work, but my heart had already crossed the line.
Then the lights came back. Reality snapped into place. She adjusted her red fox mask like nothing had happened. Like she hadn't just shaken the foundation of everything I thought I could control.
But I knew.
And I know she did too.
That night stayed with me, burned behind my eyes like an afterimage. Even now, walking beside her under the harsh lobby lights, I could still feel the ghost of her touch against my skin. She moved with the same effortless confidence, that same knowing smirk tugging at her lips as if none of it had ever left her mind either.
"So," she said, eyes flicking up at me with that teasing glint, "are you going to give me your hand and take me upstairs for the entrance?"I should have said something clever, something cool. But instead, I just stood there, feeling like a loyal dog. If she'd asked me to bark right then, I probably would've—no shame, just obedience. I stood up, nodded, and she slipped her hand around my arm like it had always belonged there.As we walked to the elevator, reality tugged at me again—our final recording was going to be live. I glanced down at myself: my usual shirt, beat-up cargo pants, and this woman next to me looking like a dream sculpted in silk. I felt like a total normie.
"Ooh, and your manager called," she added, nonchalantly. "Said he had your suit. "Normand… I love you, but not in that way. "Yeah," I muttered, trying to sound casual, "we talked yesterday about my attire. I'd hate to look so normal next to a well-dressed woman like you." My words came out slippery. Too soft. I was skating on thin ice, and I knew it.
"Sure, Hiko," she said, leaning a little closer, voice dipped in velvet sarcasm. "Do you forget I'm your voice partner in the booth sometimes?" Just as I was starting to gain some confidence, she shattered it with a single sentence—sweetly, effortlessly.
She really is perfect in every way.
The elevator doors opened, and I walked Yak to the backstage, I dashed toward the changing room. Normand was there, greeting me with a slap and a coffee. "You are a imbecile, I called you four times" I knew he was mad; he had every reason to be. "Ouch, and Morning!" My hand went to the back of my neck rubbing away the sting. "Get dressed idiot, we are going live in twenty minutes" I knew he was acting tough, deep down he really cares about me. "I will, and thank you Norm." His head made a bobbing motion, I took it as a way to say thanks. "I will be out in a minute or two" The Suit really suits me, catch the pun? "You ready!?" I stepped out feeling like I could make Yaki love me, just as much as I loved her. "Norm do you think I-" "YES, you can just ask her out, sometimes I feel like I'm more than just your manager you know?" Hate to agree but he was right, like always. "OK, fine I will try" The sudden slap on my back, and a laugh from Norm was more than enough to give me the confidence I lost in the elevator.
Waking backstage was never so awesome like today, and there she was, Yaki. I could see it from her mask, she was stunned. It was my first time using a suit like this in-front of her. "I thought I would be the one grabbing the hearts of fans especially young fans~" Her voice made me feel a bit shy for a moment. "Looking good for the only woman that I share a booth with~" I have to admit, I was proud of how well the tease was shot. The giggle she made after was confirmation that I did a good job.
We got called to stage, the crowd erupted with cheers and ground men squealing like little girls. "I want to say thank you to all the great views, and want to say thank for joining us in this journey for the last couple of months, want to thank the great crew, and the production team for the awesome work" the announcer was a man in his peak thirties, even though I was scratching the twenty mark myself. "I want to personally thank Sally the main producer of all this mess, Hiko, Yaki, John, Kelly, Norm, and Havana. This people gave there all to make this possible. Managers, voice actors, and production team." I could feel my whole group light up in cheers, I simply stood up and walk towards the microphone.
The announcer shook my hand and passed me the mic. "Thanks..." I laughed lightly, trying not to let the crowd swallow my voice. "I speak for the whole team when I say these past few months were—well, more than a little painful. I still can't believe we hit two hundred episodes in under a year."
The sudden wave of clapping and cheering was almost deafening. Lights blazed hotter. My heart raced. "I want to give a big thanks to Sakubo Animation for the non-stop chapters, and for pulling off seasons two, three, and four in less than a year!"The crowd roared louder, energy pulsing in the air, feeding my adrenaline. "And now, as one final gift from production..." I took a breath and smiled. "Let me announce the big one—our new game: Falling from the Sky: The New Generation! Take it away, production!"
The lights dimmed. A giant white screen rolled down and the trailer began to play, a flicker of color bathing the room. Cheers turned into gasps and wild applause. I stepped offstage and made my way back to the booth, sliding into my seat next to Yaki. She looked effortless under the dim lights, and I barely had a second to breathe before Kelly leaned in from the other side, eyes sparkling with something more than mischief.
"I bet that tie was really tight," she murmured, her voice low and smooth, her breath skimming my neck. A giggle slipped from her lips—but it wasn't innocent. Not even close. "Kelly," I muttered with a smirk, trying to keep it light, "your tongue's sharp as ever. But that ego of yours? That's what really takes the cake." She was quick, as always, leaning in closer, her fingers brushing my sleeve as if by accident. "Sharp tongue, sure," she whispered, "but an even longer appetite for trouble… especially when it comes to pretty boys with long d—" I laughed, a little too forced this time, eyes darting toward the others, hoping someone would break the tension.
Norm didn't miss a beat. "As much as I'd love to hear more, can we keep it PG until the afterparty?" It got a laugh from the crew, but not from me.Kelly just licked her lips slowly and met my eyes with a look that made my spine tense up.
She wasn't playing anymore. Not really. There was a hunger in her gaze that made me feel like I was shrinking in my own clothes. I shifted in my seat, suddenly aware of how close her thigh was to mine, how long her stare lingered—even after the joke was over. I looked back at the screen. Anything to break her focus. But even as the cheers rolled on, I could feel her eyes burning into me.
The Q&A was next in the list. "Hypothetically speaking, if Manji and Erica ended up spending the night... in each other's bodies, would Hellen rush to defend Manji's honor? Or would she... take matters into her own hands?" The question hit like a curveball, making me choke on my water. Manji and Erica... aka me and Kelly? My mind raced, flashing back to that recording session with Yaki. Just imagining doing something similar gave me goosebumps. Yaki grabbed the microphone, her confident grin lighting up the stage. She didn't even hesitate, leaning into the question like it was just another line in the booth. "Let's be real," she said, her voice silky smooth, "if Hellen found out Manji and Erica were swapping bodies and spending the night? Oh, she'd definitely jump to defend him. But not before making sure Erica knows exactly who's in charge." She paused, letting the audience's laughter ripple through the room." Yaki paused for a moment, lifting a playful hand to her ear as the crowd erupted into whistles and cheers. "Well," her tone playful yet sultry, "if Hellen were to actually walk in on something like that, forget episode six of season two. She'd make that scene look like a little tease. Hellen isn't one to back down, and she'd probably take things even further—right there, in front of Erica."" The crowd cheer mostly girls with a little of boys mixed in the cheer.
I swallowed hard, the heat rising in my face as the implications hit me. Yaki was fearless, turning what could've been an awkward question into something that had the entire room hooked. "Hellen doesn't just raise the stakes—she takes the whole game to another level." The crowd cheer as the cosplayer stepped down the stage. The next coplayer was roughly my size. "OK, Umm... Soo, If Manji where to find a way back to his original world would he take it?" The question hung in the air for a moment, and I could feel the weight of it. The audience quieted, clearly intrigued, waiting for my answer. It was a question that carried the potential to shift the entire arc of my character. Would Manji, the protagonist I'd voiced through so many twists and turns, really want to go back to his world after everything he'd been through in the alternate one?
"No," I said, more sharply than I meant to. "Manji has way too much to lose. Getting Hellen to fall for him wasn't easy. Trust me… even I had to convince myself to put in the full effort—to make it feel real. It wasn't just about reading lines. It was about building something that lived between the words, between the silences. Something genuine." I glanced at Yaki for a breath too long, but she didn't look back. That feeling—that electric closeness we once had—used to make the job feel like more than just work. It made me want to show up. Want to care.
Then a question pierced the air like a blade.
"Miss Yaki," a reporter's voice called from the front, "is it true you're going to work for the Public Safety Department when your contract ends?"
The energy in the room collapsed in an instant.The cheers, the excitement—gone.All replaced by this cold, sterile quiet.Like the booth after hours, when all the lights are out and you're left sitting there with just your thoughts.
My chest tightened. I turned slightly toward her, as if seeing her face would somehow stop what was already coming. "Yes…" she said softly, her voice steady, but her eyes—damn, her eyes—held something final. "I've been offered a better job." Better.
The word echoed like gunfire in a hallway.
Her laugh in the booth. Us pressed shoulder to shoulder in the dark, whispering lines into the same mic. The kiss—the one that wasn't in the script. The heat between us, the silence after. Her hand lingering just a second too long after a take. The way she used to look at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention. And now… she was leaving.
Just like that.
My throat clenched, burning. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even breathe. It felt like watching a building collapse from the inside—my ribs the walls, my heart the beams giving way. Everything I didn't say to her now roared like debris in my head.
"Damn," Kelly muttered next to me with a smirk, her voice dipped in venom and satisfaction. "Guess some of us do move on. Wonder who you will be sharing a mic with next, huh?" Her fingers brushed against my knee under the table, but it wasn't comforting—it was invasive. Like she wanted to sink her claws into what was left of me.
I flinched.
Norm, seated just beyond her, saw everything. "Cut it out, Kelly," he said low, voice firm. "Not the time." She only raised a brow, unfazed. "What? I'm just saying—new job, new… roles."
I wanted to punch her, kick her down the stage.
To tear off the stupid tie, to walk out, to say something—anything—to Yaki. But she was already answering another question. Smiling that gentle, distant smile like nothing ever happened. Like I wasn't sitting right here trying not to fall apart while the cameras kept rolling. I swallowed hard, blinking back the sting behind my eyes.
FUCK.
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
Kelly slid her seat just enough to close the distance between us, her perfume creeping in like smoke. Sweet. Heavy. Suffocating. "You know," she whispered, voice low like a secret she'd been dying to tell, "if you need help forgetting her… I have a few ways. Loud ones." My jaw clenched. Her hand grazed my wrist—slow, deliberate, like she was claiming me. Norm, standing nearby with his arms crossed, caught the whole thing.
"Back off, Kelly," he snapped, stepping between us without hesitation. His tone was sharper this time. Protective. Almost angry. She just tilted her head, lips curling upward. "Oh, relax, Normie. I'm just trying to cheer him up. He looks like a kicked puppy." Then she turned to me, bold and unrelenting. "You really gonna sit there and cry over her? Come on, Hiko. She's already halfway out the door. Why not let someone else keep you warm tonight?"
I didn't answer.
I couldn't.
Every nerve in my body felt like it was unraveling.
Norm looked at me, concern flashing behind his usual cool stare. "You good?" he asked quietly. I nodded—but it was a lie. One of many I'd gotten too good at telling lately.