Chapter 1: The Lost Libretto
“Hah, hah, hahh…”
I ran breathless down the path to the main street of West End. “Late” - every time that ominous word arose in my mind, I took a deep breath to drive it off and calm myself down, but it wasn’t working out very well. I’d gone to bed early last night knowing I had to prepare for today’s performance. But I suppose I was too nervous to fall asleep, even as the date changed… I did finally manage to drift off as the sky was brightening, but I was woken by a terrible dream.
A dream where someone died from an accident during the play - even the vague details were fading now, so I really couldn’t remember it at all. Either way, witnessing that purely horrific tragedy woke me up with a start. I pulled the covers up again to get some more sleep, but the nightmare still lingering in my mind, I only got in a few light naps. When I next woke up, the meeting time was fast encroaching.
Why today, of all days? Why was the one day I slept in late the one that could very well be the most important of my life? And to think that I always fell asleep before midnight, no matter how late I tried to stay up… I’m an idiot, such an IDIOT! I mentally berated myself for the nth time today, cursing my stupidity.
Main Street finally came into sight. There were crowds all around the area, despite morning rush hour being hours ago. In fact, “morning” was nearly over, and yet this normally not-particularly-busy area was, just for today, flooded with people - the street, the alleys, even the back streets. Cutting through the inordinately large crowds, I kept bumping into people, apologizing, and being jostled this way and that. I was in quite a hurry, but alas, all the people made it difficult to get anywhere. Not good… At this rate, I really will be late -
Whump!
Suddenly, something black blocked my vision.
“Wah!”
I smacked into something, knocking me magnificently on my bottom. Rubbing my pained behind, I reopened my eyes shut by the impact. Someone had forcefully bumped into me. The man, who’d popped out into the main street from a narrow alley, smoothly picked up the antique silk hat that had fallen off his head and put it back on. He extended a hand to me, still sitting on the ground.
“Terribly sorry, miss. I was in such a hurry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. My apologies. Are you hurt?”
“Ah… No, I’m, I’m fine…”
I felt like I’d slipped into a story from a distant land; he held his hand out to me in such a reverent, elegant way, as a prince would to a princess. I nervously grabbed it, and he lifted me up. The unique fairytale impression he and his actions had given me in mere moments started to feel somehow embarrassing, so I couldn’t look him in the face. But I snuck a sidelong glance, and observed him to be a tall, slim gentleman, with a black suit and silk hat.
“That’s good. I’m one to talk after crashing into you, but please be careful, miss. Quite a few rubberneckers about this morning…”
“Rubberneckers…?”
“Indeed. Have you seen it? There was a fire at Harrods. You see the western sky filling up with dark smoke? And it is quite a large department store… It’s taking a while to put the fire out. There also seem to be many people on this street for some kind of event today. So not only are there people running from the fire, but also rubberneckers seeing what all the hubbub is about. Such a noisy morning. Let’s hope the damages don’t get any worse.”
“…So there was a fire…”
I somehow hadn’t noticed at all in my hurrying. As I acknowledged how that would explain the crowds today, I recalled the reason people always called me “slow-witted” and sighed again. I always had a problem of becoming too focused on one thing and losing sight of everything else.
When I calmed myself and listened closely, I heard the word “fire” being shouted here and there, and the unending sirens of firetrucks in the distance. And when I looked up at the sky to the west, while I couldn’t see the fire, black smoke continuously poured up into it. It was more bizarre for someone on this street tonot realize there was a fire - such was the area enveloped in that particular tumult brought about by one. Following up my blunder of oversleeping on this day that could hardly be any more important, now I’d run straight through this chaos without even noticing there was a fire… My self-loathing resurfaced.
“So you see, you should stay away from that area if possible. It’s quite dangerous.”
“Yes… Thank you, sir…”
“You really never know what can happen. It’s all too common for what seems like a perfectly peaceful day to be switched out for a living nightmare. Or for a fire like this to stop you in your tracks on an important day, hm?”
“Ah… Um, I’m sorry. I was the one running and not looking… You must be in a hurry.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all. There’s a play I really wish to see today, so that’s why I was hurrying. I bought special seats, so even if I’m a little late, there’s still time before the show begins. Yet to arrive early, have a glass of wine on the foyer while I flip through the pamphlet, imagine this and that as I wander for a bit, and finally enjoy the main event to the fullest… That is what I truly look forward to. Still, the slight delay brought about by this fire won’t have a significant effect on the course of my life. The ones truly pained are the owners of the department store, the customers, the staff. Such a shame… Yet such a common tragedy, isn’t it?”
“…It really is…”
This person said some very interesting things. I came to suspect each line he spoke had an important message hidden behind it. His every word and action seemed to induce a feeling of wanting to hear what was next.
“Well, though I certainly prefer comedies to tragedies. What else can I say in times like these? War and military expansion, mechanized industry and stale amusement, and on top of it all, a prohibition boom from the continent. Our great ancestors taught that beer moistens the dry journey of life, that it is the tears of angels, but this has been forgotten by the empty-headed politicians of our time. And this is why people get so fiercely upset, starting wars and trading pie-in-the-sky theories. The gloss, so to speak, is leaving people’s lives… Truly a shame… Well, never mind that. Hm…? Say, have we… met somewhere before?”
After speaking at length while gesturing as if a spotlight were on him, the man peered at my face and gave his head a slight tilt.
“Ah…”
Maybe he noticed. After all, my face had been put up all around town.
“No, I think it’s our first meeting. I do have a pretty ordinary face… I get it all the time… Ahaha.”
I tried to dodge the question, but the gentleman still pondered, staring at me with eyes hidden behind his bangs. If we talked any longer, he might find out who I was. It would be very bad to get a crowd around me in a place that was so crowded to begin with. He observed me for a while as I awkwardly let my gaze wander elsewhere. Suddenly, I felt I saw his eyes light up, despite being theoretically invisible behind his thick bangs.
“…What a magnificent bracelet. Rather old and used, it appears…”
“T-Thank you. I know it’s really worn out now… But it’s very important to me…”
“I see… Take good care of it. They say objects come to possess a consciousness of their own over a long period of time. I’m sure your ancestors… and your grandmother, will watch over you always.”
“…!”
I looked up in surprise. But indeed, his glaring eyes were obscured by his hair, and I couldn’t see their expression. His kind voice had a curious resonance. And he’d certainly just mentioned my grandmother… How would he know this was from my grandmother? Was he an acquaintance of hers…?
“Er, why…”
Just then, I heard the bell of the nearby clock tower ring. The heavy metal booongrang out twelve times.
I listened to it briefly, but remembered at once. Oh, no. I got so absorbed in what he was saying, I completely forgot what I was in such a hurry over. The meeting time was 12 PM -
“Oh my… That time already. I guess I spoke a little long.”
The gentleman rolled up his left sleeve and checked the antique watch underneath.
“Thank you for telling me about the fire! I just remembered I was in a hurry… Today’s a very important day… I need to go!”
“Yes, take care… Have a magnificent day, miss. I should be going as well.”
I quickly bowed to the unfamiliar gentleman and left him, taking off running. Maybe he really was an acquaintance of grandma’s… I wanted to talk just a little more, but I was dragged back into the unavoidable reality of already being late.
Plus, if we had kept on talking, he would have noticed who I was. That I was the Cinderella of West End, performing in a brand new story today. All of a sudden, the reality hit me again. Happiness and a little bit of shyness welled up in me, and I couldn’t resist grinning. The walls of the main street I was running through, the streetlights, the billboards. My brilliant smile was plastered all over town. Posters of me, the lead role in the play that would be put on tonight. I met eyes with the girl smiling so brilliantly in the photo. Refilled with vigor, I ran faster than ever down the path to the theater.
As I swung open the door to green room #1, I found three actors already there, elegantly enjoying an after-lunch tea time. I checked the clock on the wall; it was a little past 12:30. The meeting time was supposed to be 12.
Needing to squash my fear, I squeezed the handkerchief in my skirt pocket. It wasn’t a good-luck charm or anything; since I was little, I just had an unconscious habit of reaching for it when I was particularly stressed or afraid.
The soft feel of the cloth calmed me down a little. Though still out of breath, I felt I had to apologize immediately, so I practically made a 90-degree angle with my body and shouted from the bottom of my stomach:
“Um…! I’m so sorry!! T-That I’m a whole thirty minutes late!!”
“So you are, Miku. Did you sleep in?”
Kaito, the leader who organized the company’s actors, approached me not angrily, but with a wide smile. As I continued looking down at the floor, he stooped into my field of view and handed me a towel.
“…U-Um.”
“You should wipe off your sweat first. You’ll catch a cold.”
“Thank you…”
“Then once you’ve calmed down, you should get changed quickly.”
“Okay…”
All three of the actors already had their makeup fully done, and were dressed in their costumes for the main event.
“My, my… He’s sparing no expense, I see.”
“Miss Luka…! G-Good morning! I-I’m so sorry I’m late!”
Luka sat in the most luxurious seat in the back, one situated by the window with a lot of exposure to sunlight, and she spoke languidly as she raised her eyes to look at me. Her beautiful long pink hair glittered in the light of the sun now high in the sky. She was fiercely beautiful today, as ever - as she wearily swept aside her forelocks, the sight gave me the picturesque impression of a moon goddess mistakenly winding up at a sun god’s tea party.
After giving a quick greeting to all three actors, wiping myself down with the towel, I sat in the cheapest chair nearest to the door and opened up my bag. I’d checked it once before leaving in the morning, but I had to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. For instance, I had to be sure I brought back the props I’d taken home for practice. As I rummaged through my bag, Meiko, who’d been reading a newspaper on the sofa beside Kaito, came over and sat on the three-seater sofa opposite me.
“Here you are, ice lemon tea. Hot outside, wasn’t it? Did you sleep well last night?”
“T-Thank you! Um… Actually, I was kind of too nervous to sleep much. I almost got to bed toward dawn, but then I had a scary dream… Then I fell asleep two more times… Then I noticed it was nearly 12… So yes, I slept late…”
Meiko’s expressions and actions emanated elegance and maturity, so one might think she was hard to approach. But in truth, she was rather meddlesome, and would candidly interact with anyone. Even with me being a newcomer who had only been in the troupe for half a year, and her being such a mature individual, she’d pour tea for me and actively start conversations with me all the time. And whenever I felt shameful and nervous about it, she’d shoot me a playful smile and naturally diffuse my worries… She was a very warm person.
“I see… That’s rough. This morning’s been such a noisy one. First with the passing of the prohibition bill, then the congestion in the streets after the fire at Harrods…”
“Y-Yes…”
Meiko spoke with a very pained expression, like the end of the world was coming, much like she had while reading the newspaper - perhaps because she was reminding herself of it again.
“But it’s all right. You’re not the only one who’s late.”
“I’m not? Ah, uh, I’ll take this tea.”
I took the cold glass and gulped it down. My parched throat was filled with just the right amount of bitterness from the faintly sour tea. Delicious. The spring plants were only just budding, so the nights were still chilly, but it was a warm enough season to work up a sweat from running. A cup of cold lemon tea after that exercise was a cup of bliss. I noticed Kaito had come over, and he sat beside Meiko.
“Hey, Mei-pie? I’d like to have some lemon tea poured by you, myself.”
“It is getting rather hot with the sun out, isn’t it? Very well, very well. But haven’t I told you enough times? You really have to stop calling me that, you lecher.”
“Eh? So cruel of you. Let’s stick with "gentleman,” please. Besides, aren’t you and I on that level?“
"Please don’t make comments that’ll be misconstrued. Miku, he’s always like this. As soon as he lays eyes on a woman, he’s polite as can be, then before you know it, he’s seducing her. You should watch out.”
Meiko slowly stood up and got chilled lemon tea from the fridge, then poured it into the cold glass on the table.
“Ahaha… She’s harsh. But this is practically how we say hi.”
“A greeting like that will never catch on in this country, Mr. Gentleman. Here you are.”
“Thanks.”
Kaito ignored Meiko’s remark and put on a kind-hearted grin as he reached for the tea she poured. The movement of his hand resembled that of a high-ranking noble or royal, having a unique elegance to it. Sometimes I thought that maybe Kaito planned out every action he performed from start to finish. Even when it came to such a simple action as taking a glass, I could imagine the setting of a royal palace behind him.
“Hm…? Miku, do you want a refill?”
“Uh…?”
“Well, you were just looking at my glass so passionately. Unless, don’t tell me… You were looking at me?”
He winked at me. Picturing how I must have been spacing out and watching his every action filled me with embarrassment. That’s not it - it’s true I was watching passionately, but not really at him, just wondering about that sense of refinement that he engendered… I wondered how to best convey that, but I just couldn’t find the right words.
“Ahh… Er, um, well…”
“Yaaawn… What makes you think she was looking at anything? She always has a habit of looking through everything. My, it’s like she does it on purpose…”
Luka, watching our conversation from across the room, spoke up drowsily, stifling a yawn.
“Miss Luka?”
“Luka’s eyesight never ceases to amaze. Miku, are you really that curious about how I drink a drink? I feel like you’re always staring my way whenever I’m eating or drinking anything.”
“Ahh! Um… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be that obvious… That must feel awkward.”
“No, as long as it’s not a time when I’m not looking so stylish, I absolutely welcome any woman to stare passionately at me.”
“(Was I really staring that intensely…?) B-But really, so many of your movements, even off the stage, just have this elegance to them… You almost remind me of a royal or a noble, or something. So I just get caught up watching.”
“Hm…? I-Is that… right? W-Well, I’m glad. That makes me a fine gentleman, doesn’t it?”
“Yes! A gentleman… or, well, let’s see… Maybe more like a butler?”
“B… Butler…”
Kaito lowered his head, heartbroken. Luka and Meiko burst out laughing seeing this unfold.
“A-And here I thought you were going a good direction there… I guess my eyesight isn’t quite perfect. Heehee…”
Luka must have found it really hilarious, as she continued to laugh even as she spoke, then put milk into a fresh cup of coffee poured by Meiko. Come to think of it, this was different from when I’d had drinks with her on the foyer before. I got curious, so I asked.
“Um… Miss Luka, didn’t you tell me the other day that you only drank your coffee black…?”
“Hm? Ahh… That’s right, I did say that. You’ll recall that was when our sponsor was there, yes? I figured black was better for my image. But really, it’s too bitter for me to care for it at all. I like my alcohol, I like my sweets, and I just hate anything bitter.”
“Oh, wow… You really looked like you were enjoying it, so I was so sure…”
“Oh? Well, I am an actress. Of course I should be able to pull that off. As should you. This is the Burlet Company, you know? All our performances must be perfect, or they won’t be recognized as Burlet.”
“Burlet…”
The Burlet Company - our acting troupe.
The troupe came into being a century ago by the hand of the legendary playwright Mr. Burlet, who began a golden age of theater here in West End. A troupe that performed Burlet’s many masterworks, with a long-standing tradition of making no compromises in props, sets, stage directions, lighting, music, acting, costumes, anything that comprised the play’s reception in order to invite the audience into an unreal world of theater.
Even while modernization, mechanization, and the recent movie boom put a shadow on the business of theater, our troupe retained the same craftsmanship and spirit since the very day it was founded. Certainly, it had lost its former vigor, and didn’t have very good financial prospects these days. Yet amid the shift toward movies, there still existed a few troupes like the Burlet Company continuing to uphold the charm of the stage. For the sake of the passionate theater and Burlet fans who came to see them.
I admired the plays the legendary Mr. Burlet wrote, and aspired to be an actress. When I was little, my grandmother took me from my rural home village all the way here to distant West End to see my first Burlet Company play. It was one of his most well-known works, “The Silence of the Snowy Night.” They never dropped any real snow on the set, yet soon enough, I began to feel the illusion of being lost in a silver world sealed within heavy snow. For days after the play, during day and night, the world of the play lingered with me.
Ever since, I became absolutely fascinated with Burlet’s plays. Always carrying the dream of becoming an actress to someday perform his works, I moved up to West End a year ago. Working part-time as a live-in employee at a bakery on the edge of West End, I saved up to see the Burlet Company’s performances.
Luka, the company’s overpoweringly beautiful star actor who also worked as a model. Kaito, the tenured leader of the troupe’s actors, who served as both an actor and a stage manager. Meiko, the older actress renowned for her precise, finely-detailed performances. I was enthralled by their acting and went to see them again and again, striving to practice my own craft when I could find the time between work. I had no money, so I couldn’t go to acting school… but I watched real plays and imitated the actors. Everything else, I filled in with my vivid imagination from years of playing by myself.
About three months into that way of life, there came a turning point. Burlet’s illusory posthumous work: the script of “Crazy ∞ nighT.” Nearly a century ago, the title alone was revealed, and the script was thought to have been lost without ever being performed. The news of it finally being found in the Burlet Company’s underground cellar spread worldwide in the blink of an eye. Every news outlet snapped up the story, and paid the declining troupe heed with grand headlines like “Long-Standing Troupe Shown Chance for Revival With Discovery of Phantom Libretto,” and “An Infusion of Burlet for the Troupe’s Financial Troubles? Now That’s Dramatic!”
To accompany this miraculous event, the Burlet Company announced a special audition to recruit a new member. The best audition would be given the lead role in the lost, posthumous play; an actor could ask for no greater honor. But I knew it was too soon for me; while I had practiced alone for many years, having never actually stood on a stage before, there was no reason to expect that I would get the part. So I just agonizingly stared at the audition pamphlet for days. However, the proprietor of the bakery decided to put my name in herself, and suddenly told me this fact three days before the audition.
At first, I couldn’t believe she’d do that, and thought about not even showing up to the audition knowing I didn’t stand a chance. But all the bakery workers said “Challenge yourself, and if it doesn’t work out, you can try harder next time,” convincing me to give it a try on a puny amount of courage. And somehow, I got the part. In that moment, I was filled with unspeakable surprise and joy.
Maybe the fact that I happened to be born in the same village as Burlet was the clincher for the judges. A single ray of hope came down upon the struggling troupe - the lost libretto had been discovered, and for its first performance, the lead role would be played by a total unknown who just moved here, a village girl with the same birthplace as Burlet. A truly dramatic, Cinderella-esque story. That anecdote alone would be pivotal in getting the audience’s interest. So perhaps I was chosen simply to be the face of their advertising.
It had only been half a year since I entered the troupe, but I wanted to quickly get my acting on par with the rest of the main cast, so I’d devoted myself to practice. I studied the others’ acting and adopted techniques from them, and to learn more about plays, I did all I could to help in the creation of props and sets, with lighting, with acoustics, with being a prompter. I even helped the ticket sellers and guides out front and learned how to interact with visitors. But my skill still didn’t even go above their socks.
“…I…”
Faced now with the main event, I was suddenly welling up with fear. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it before. In just a few hours, I would have to perform in the production of Burlet’s lost libretto, the very first production, as the lead role at that. The Burlet stage, to anyone who devoted themselves to theater, was a holy place, a final destination. Maybe seeing nothing but that dream come true made me subconsciously not think about the fear that came with it actually happening.
An audience bursting at the seams with anticipation, surely filling the house; famous, first-class actors; a set made to thoroughly imitate reality. Was it really okay for me, with my total lack of redeeming features, to be in the middle of it all? Doubt and hesitation filled me. I began to tremble, and my pulse beat loudly. I felt the reality slowly thickening in front of me. The tension was crushing… I wanted to run out of here.
“Hey, Luka? Don’t make people nervous right before showtime. It’s a delicate time. Look, she’s shaking. It’s enough that she’s debuting as the lead of such a production, so she must be especially nervous now… Listen, Miku? It’s okay if you mess up. We’ll do everything we can to support you, so just try to take it easy.”
“That’s right. Even if you forget a line, that’s what the prompter’s there for. You’re a newcomer, and the audience should know that much. In fact, for a newcomer, a perfect performance isn’t as endearing as one which has a few beginner mistakes here and there. Why, it could have more appeal that way. Besides, today is only the first day. The show will go on tomorrow, and the day after. Take it at your leisure.”
Meiko and Kaito gave me kind, sympathetic encouragement. Indeed, it was a three-act play where one act would be performed each day. The veterans knew everything there was to know about plays, and they told me that for a play structured like this, most opinions would be decided based on the quality of the final act. So even if mistakes were made toward the beginning, by the last act you could know your part and the audience, and make up for it by putting on your best performance there.
Even so, Luka was still right. Everything had to be perfect, or it wasn’t a Burlet play. I desperately lacked that kind of talent.
Mr. Burlet sought perfection from his productions. While he was alive, even prodigies and veterans were told they couldn’t perform in his plays if they didn’t meet his standards. Surely no one would expect a lead player in this troupe, which had always kept to that tradition, to think herself unworthy of the position. And many plausible legends had been passed down, as well.
For instance, it was said that if any actors omitted a large part from one of his scripts, or adlibbed their own additions… those actors would soon vanish from the stage. Two or three decades ago, when the war was going strong, a lot of cultural heritage and records were lost, so it was hard to know the truth or origins of such rumors.
But where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Any who profanes a Burlet play will meet an unhappy death… That legend was still believed like a superstition by no small number of people, including those in the Burlet Company. So they dedicated themselves to following the scripts to the letter, ignored harmonizing with others to focus on their own acting, and never adlibbed.
But for an actor to die because they made a mistake acting out one of his plays? It sounded like a serious embellishment to me. Burlet didn’t seem as strict and scary a person as his company seemed to speak of him… is what I thought, at least. Because he…
Staring at one of the few personal effects he’d left in his hometown, the worn red bracelet now on my left wrist, I sighed quietly enough for no one to notice it.
“Sigh… Looks like I’m being made out as bullying the newcomer. I get stage fright too, you know? To any actor, the Burlet stage is both something to aspire to, and the embodiment of fear. In fact, I still need to mentally… no, never mind.”
Luka tiresomely defended herself from the remarks made against her by the older two. Looking at her face, you naturally couldn’t see a hint of nervousness, but perhaps even a star like her could get nervous on stage after all. And I had no idea what it was, but she seemed a little… no, no, she looked plenty mentally-prepared too.
“True… When you put it that way, we’re all nervous. This time more than ever, it’s something we can’t mess up.”
“…Yeah.”
Silence came to the room. It was tranquil, with warm sunlight coming through the large window reaching up to the second floor terrace. Why, I wonder, when there was a strange tension that didn’t match that at all? I felt like the tension they felt and whatever I was feeling might be somehow different. I was feeling it “again,” I realized - at times, I had the impression that I still wasn’t being allowed into their circle. And this was certainly one of those times.
Bang!
The door to the green room slammed open with a loud sound that broke the momentary silence. The force was so much that it bounced back into its opener, so a painful wham sound followed.
“OWWWWWWWWWW!”
“Sigh…”
The smallish girl Rin emerged from behind the large door, holding her forehead in pain. Beside her was her twin brother Len, who’d watched the whole thing from nearby. His expression didn’t change one bit; he just gave a little sigh.
“Owowowowow… wh! M-Morning, guys! I guess we were a little late? I’m SORry!”
“Not often you two are late. I suppose the fire crowded the roads?”
“E-Eheh… a little, MAYbe.”
“Hm…? Rin, did you get a bump on your head? Let me see that.”
Kaito approached Rin, worried about the blow to her forehead, but she backed away in surprise. I felt like I saw the bag hung over her shoulder fidget a little, but maybe it was just me.
“What’s wrong…? You look less energetic than usual.”
“Eh?! N-No, uhhh, well… we’ve been getting stopped by enthusiastic fans all day… eHE.”
“Fans…? Those bodyguards? They’re strict about their rules, so unless someone slipped up, I wouldn’t think they’d come talk to you in the middle of town…”
Rin’s bodyguards, as Meiko called them, were a group of people who frequented the theater to a zealous degree. Thanks to their rigorous leadership, they had ironclad rules against bothering the actors in any way, and followed them well. I’d definitely never heard of them bothering Rin while she was on the move.
“Oh, that’s not it. I, uh… I meant Len’s.”
“…”
Rin glanced toward her brother. Len was still expressionless and said nothing, slowly closing his eyes.
“Ah, if it’s Len’s fans… I wouldn’t put it past them. They’re so radical, they’re like a religious group…”
“Certainly true. And hard to turn down if they stop you in town, as well. They’re all bigshots, after all.”
“My, how nice. I wish you’d introduce me to one of them. Quite an impressive gathering of men in Len’s fanbase.”
Len was reticent as always, just standing there with a nonchalant look. But was it just me who saw him as displeased?
An impressive gathering of men - indeed, while Len had many female fans, the men outnumbered them by far. And for whatever reason, many of his fervent fans were gentlemen with fame and fortune - important politicians, businessmen, performers like him. They wouldn’t normally reveal their hobby publicly, but they would send bombastic bouquets and expensive presents to Len’s dressing room every show, and would apparently casually talk to him if he was spotted in town.
Bigshots from all fields supported Len as sponsors, Rin’s supporters formed a passionate fanclub, and Luka worked as a model to do promotion, focusing on gaining popularity among young women. It was no exaggeration to say that these things helped fill the troupe’s coffers amid its financial difficulties. All the members of the main cast had their own fanbases, but certain long-time members like Meiko and Kaito, with their reliable acting prowess, were the real face of the company. I’d heard the staff claim that the troupe as we now knew it was kept alive by the efforts of the seven main cast members.
“That aside… Already in "play mode,” Rin? You’re always quick with that.“
"Eh…? AhaHAHAha! Yes, I’m all PREpared! HeeHEE!”
I thought I felt Rin was acting a little different from usual. Apparently, she had already put herself in the world of the play. In tonight’s play, she had the role of the Doll Girl, and her acting certainly did suggest a doll that had come to life. Assuming a stoic pose, her natural acting talents and her boundless effort combined to create the image of a doll worth calling “real.”
The Doll Girl, established as having a cheery naiveté, but just a little bit of foolishness. The doll speaking and moving, of course, demanded a performance that oozed eeriness and madness. Maybe even her hitting her head on the door had been on purpose, as practice for her “foolish” side.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login