After a round of enthusiastic introductions and a few blood-pumping declarations of ambition, the welcome party eased into a more relaxed phase where people could mingle freely.
Yin Ze, for one, made the most of it—he ate heartily, figuring it would be a waste not to take full advantage of a free meal and drinks.
Around the table, the mood was lively. Glasses clinked, laughter filled the room.
"The youngest here today must be Takizawa and Sakura, right?" Hazuki Kayamura, a poised and stylish woman with an air of big-sister charm, knew how to keep the energy up. She brought the two into the spotlight.
"True, but we're already in our final year of high school," Yin Ze replied with a smile. "It's nearly the end of the year—we'll be turning twenty soon."
"So what made you want to become a voice actor?" she asked, curious.
"...It was kind of a coincidence."
"Humble guy, aren't you?" said Iwasawa Shunju, a cheerful, energetic college student with a bold grin. "I heard you had the top scores in this year's intake. That's not something luck alone can explain. At Nichiboken, we all start from the basics and work our way up. Even then, most of us don't make it through the entrance evaluation. Matsuoka failed once last year. Don't let his attitude fool you—he actually did great at the training institute. Even got interviewed by a magazine."
"Let's leave the failure stories out of this," said Matsuoka Yoshitsugu with an awkward smile.
"There's definitely some luck involved," Yin Ze said vaguely.
"You passed the notoriously tough new talent exam, landed a full scholarship, and scored high in your first assessment. Come on, man, stop being so modest—you're making the rest of us feel bad," Shunju said, sipping his orange juice.
"To achieve all that in just a year... that's impressive," Matsuoka added, quietly in awe.
"Some people are just born for certain jobs."
Yin Ze quietly chewed on a perfectly tender piece of beef, thinking, Wow, this Takizawa guy sounds like a prodigy.
"What about you, little Sakura?" Kayamura turned to the high school girl nearby, who had been fiddling with her phone.
It was only then that Yin Ze got a proper look at her.
Smooth, glossy black hair fell past her ears. Her cheeks were still round with baby fat, her skin flushed with a healthy glow. Behind her fringe, her eyes peeked out cautiously, like a small animal watching a world too big and fast to trust. Though her makeup was minimal, suitable for a student, the jelly-like gloss on her lips gave her a strangely mature charm.
Their eyes met briefly. She looked startled and quickly glanced away, only to return with a polite smile.
"It just seemed like a fun and exciting job, so I've been giving it my all."
"Do you have a favorite author?"
"...Kuniko Mukōda."
"Oh? That's a very Showa-era choice. Do you like older things?"
"My dad's a fan. I guess it rubbed off on me."
"So, does anyone at school know you're about to debut as a voice actor? Especially the anime-loving boys?"
"I don't have any friends close enough to share that with."
"Ah, I see. Is schoolwork heavy these days? Balancing that with a debut can't be easy."
"My parents will help me out."
The conversation shifted into a soft-spoken back-and-forth between the girls—though mostly Kayamura was doing the asking while Ayane Sakura responded briefly.
Keeping everyone engaged really takes effort, doesn't it? Yin Ze thought.
"How about a toast?" he suggested.
Everyone stood, glasses clinking in harmony. Cheers rang out. As they sat again, the awkward lull in the girls' chat faded naturally.
"I'm going to say hi over there," Yin Ze said, topping off his juice and walking to the next table.
The other table was full of older working adults. Tossing in a quick joke got a warm response, and the mood was light and welcoming. With two talent agents at that table, Yin Ze got pulled into their banter and ended up staying a while.
"Matsuoka, let's go greet them too," said Iwasawa.
"What do I even say?" Matsuoka hesitated. Socializing wasn't his strong suit.
"Don't overthink it. Let's go," Iwasawa said, dragging him along.
Ayane glanced at the noisy group. The smell of alcohol hit her even from across the room. She frowned subtly, checked the time, and kept waiting.
About half an hour later, Yin Ze and the others finally returned.
The other table had gotten rowdier. Yin Ze, who had been using juice to keep up with their drinking, was now fully stuffed. Matsuoka and Iwasawa, both real drinkers, had flushed faces and glassy eyes.
One of the older agents had tied his necktie around his forehead and started dancing like he was in a kabuki play. People clapped along, cheering.
With that kind of example, the younger newcomers were fired up. Someone even took off his shirt and tried to start a sumo match.
Even Ippei Kashiwai looked tipsy, a faint stain on his shirt, but still managing to stay somewhat sober. Checking his sleek watch, he finally called it: the welcome party was wrapping up. He pulled the dancing coworker aside to settle the bill.
The group stepped out into the crisp night air. Someone passed around cigarettes. A few were still high on the night and planned a second round at karaoke.
Most decided to hit up the nearby entertainment district.
"See you around," Kayamura said, waving. "You two okay?"
"No problem, right?" Iwasawa grinned, arm around Matsuoka's shoulder as the two of them staggered together. "Take care getting home!"
Soon, only a few people remained at the entrance.
"Walking home, Sakura?" Yin Ze asked.
Ayane instinctively stepped back from the alcohol-soaked duo.
"I'm taking a car."
"Want to share a cab? We'll cover the fare—grown-up privilege."
"Thanks, but I'm good."
"Right... wouldn't want Matsuoka to puke in the cab. Come on, buddy, let's get you home."
Matsuoka didn't answer. He just plopped down on the curb.
"Stomach upset? Alright, sit tight. I'll grab some water from the convenience store. Sakura, can you keep an eye on him for a bit?"
Ayane looked at the woozy Matsuoka groaning on the curb, tapping his head like he was trying to shake the nausea out.
Why drink so much? she muttered.
Matsuoka dry-heaved a couple of times, mumbling to himself. Ayane watched his pitiful state, then cautiously leaned in.
"Um… are you okay?"
He answered reflexively, "Yes," then turned to look at her. Bloodshot eyes locked onto hers.
She instinctively stepped back, uneasy.
"Sakura-san," he said softly. His gaze seemed to drift away.
"Huh?"
"Tell me—" Matsuoka paused, then looked up at the night sky. "What do you think life is?"
"?!"
A completely out-of-nowhere question, especially coming from an older drunk man she barely knew. Ayane was left speechless—and a little scared.
Just then, Ippei Kashiwai returned, one arm supporting a sleeping colleague, the other carrying a plastic bag. Yin Ze followed behind.
"Is Matsuoka drunk?" Kashiwai asked, surprised to see him slumped by the curb.
"I think so," Ayane nodded.
"Well, I'm giving Okawa-san a lift. Matsuoka, you come too."
"Iwasawa-san went to get water," she added.
"Then I'll find him. What about you—how are you getting home?"
"My dad's picking me up."
"Got it. Takizawa, can you stay here with her for a bit? It's already 9:30, and drunk folks might be wandering around. Better she's not left alone."
"Of course," Yin Ze replied. "You take them. I've got it covered."
A few minutes later, it was just the two of them.
Ayane kept glancing down the street, clearly eager to leave. Yin Ze, content to wait, stayed close.
Crowds passed by, lively with chatter and alcohol. The awkward silence between the two of them deepened.
"What's in the bag?" Ayane asked, perhaps out of politeness.
"Leftovers. Our table had some really good food, and I hate wasting it. This'll feed me for two more meals."
"Oh…" she nodded.
The silence returned.
"I noticed you didn't eat much. Won't you be hungry later?" he asked.
"Dieting," she answered simply.
"No need to starve yourself. You look cute already," Yin Ze replied with a grin—half-joking, half sincere.
"Ahaha… is that so?" Ayane gave a polite chuckle, then took another step away.
Shy one, huh? Yin Ze thought, watching the high schooler now keeping a solid eight-foot distance.
Just then, bright headlights pierced the street. A sleek black sedan pulled up. Yin Ze tilted his head, examining the model, then watched as Ayane opened the door with practiced ease and slipped inside.
Wait... rich kid?
The man in the driver's seat lowered the window and gave him a kind nod. Yin Ze, hands full with the food bag, returned it with a respectful bow.
As the red taillights disappeared into the neon-lit night, he let out a soft sigh and turned toward the subway, hoping he could still catch the last train.