Prologue: The First Night
Slam - with the loud sound of [her] opening the door, the merrymaking people within the room slowly turned to face it. One with beer mugs in both hands, redfaced but still drinking; one engaging with their drunken friend; one engrossed in conversation, eyes shining with excitement; one pretending to listen to the prior; one singing, one dancing; and lastly, one quietly tilting their glass.
The youth nearest to the door, who had been relaxing and sipping wine on a three-seater sofa all to himself, noticed her arrival and stood up to greet [her].
“You’re late. Well, how about a toast to our first day? We’ve all already started, you see?”
“…”
[She] stood there silently, saying not a word. The youth thoughtfully filled an empty glass on the table with wine from the bottle, and urged [her] to come in.
“Perfectly expected for the lead role to arrive fashionably late. Here’s a drink for you. Come, let’s have a toast.”
The glass [she] received was full of delicious red wine. [She] faintly gazed into the red liquid wavering in her hand. As [she] silently stood there merely holding the glass, noticing her odd behavior, the rest of the group came to stare in her direction. Their gazes were kind, filled with anticipation and optimism. [She] firmly shut her eyes, resolutely tipped the glass, and gulped down the swaying redness all at once.
“Ahh, here comes our lead role, everyone! Come on over. Why, you down your drinks quick!”
Finding no fault in [her] emptying the glass before the toast, a young man with a drunken red face and a good-natured smile… someone who had the quality about him of being the group’s leader, issuing direction to the others.
“Can we get a word from the lead role, too?”
All present turned toward [her] and gathered around.
“…Won’t you tell me the truth?”
“The truth…?”
The happy drunken leader smiling at [her] opened his eyes slightly, then blinked two or three times.
“This letter… tells about the truth of this play.”
As [she] said this, bringing the letter in her left hand up beside her face, the air in the room froze. Keeping the exact same smiles they’d had moments ago on their faces, everyone in the room stared at [her]. Not changing emotion, not even blinking, just holding their breaths, they remained still and questioned what her next action would be. After a considerable silence, a woman with a mature air about her slowly put her beer mugs down on the table and spoke.
“Tell me, whatever do you mean by… the truth?”
In contrast to the casual nature of her words, the woman’s lips stiffened slightly.
“It has to do with us… making this script into a play.”
“And? What exactly would this be?”
“…Please, don’t play dumb. It’s all written in this letter.”
[She] suddenly turned left to glance at the white letter she held in her hand.
“Where exactly did you get it?”
“It was left on the stage.”
“Well, then… Just what does it say? May I see that for a second?”
The leader took on a stern look quite unlike before, put down his mug, and slowly approached [her].
“I believe you’re familiar with it, so I shouldn’t need to show it to you! …If what this letter says is true, then isn’t this production considered "sacrilege” against him?“
”!“
The moment [she] spoke the word "sacrilege,” all but she trembled with nervous looks. Seeing this reaction, [she] brought a hand to cover her mouth. Not wanting to look anyone in the eye, [she] slowly averted her gaze and hung her head.
“…So it was true… I feel… so horrible. And why did…”
Several times [she] opened her mouth to ask something, but hesitated mid-sentence, never forming a complete line. Shortly afterward, the leader-like man opened his mouth again.
“…It simply happened this way. Please understand… We -”
“I don’t want your excuses! I don’t think it’s too late yet. Please, you have to announce the truth to the world! If we do it now, it might not be too late. I’m sure… No, I’m certain we can do it over!”
“What are you talking about?! On what basis? The moment we revealed the truth, don’t you see it would be the end of us and this troupe?” The mature woman approached [her], face filling with anger.
“Who could’ve written a letter like that? Must be one of us, right…?”
A boy lounging on a single-seat sofa looked around the room as if conducting a search. But no one confessed. As he opened his mouth to continue the search for the culprit, the mature woman interrupted to continue where she left off.
“That doesn’t matter right now. What’s important is that we can’t allow the truth in that letter to be made public. You understand?”
“…Really, won’t you reconsider? We’re all friends in this together, aren’t we? You’re no exception.”
“Yeah! If you do something like that, it’ll be real bad… Hey, reconsider! Pleeease!”
A girl worriedly looking between [her] and the others speaking spoke with a whine. Tears were faintly welling up in her eyes. The happy party mood was completely gone, and amid savage tension, attacks on [her] flew left and right. It rained terribly outside, and the heavy sound of raindrops echoed. [She] remained silent for a time, staring at the back window.
The storm of words passed, and silence drifted in. Then, making up her mind on something, [she] opened her mouth again.
“Um… Please, listen! This is really… I really mean it, this will be for the good of the troupe. I thought of the perfect way to go about this! But there are reasons why I can’t tell you the details yet. But still… It’ll definitely work out okay!”
“There can’t be any recovering once the world knows about what’s in that letter you picked up. All our dreams, all our hopes, gone. It’ll be the end of us all…”
“That’s not true! Please just believe me… Please!”
The leader, still looking concerned, folded his arms in thought and looked away from [her].
“Weeell, can’t you tell us those details or whatnot? I wanna know, y'know, the chances of success.”
A woman with a slight intellectual air went to push up her glasses, then blinking as she remembered she wasn’t wearing them currently, let her gaze waver around the room to hide her mistake.
“Well, I… I can’t do that yet…”
“Yet… So you mean, you’ll be able to someday?”, the youth pouring wine questioned.
“Just give me some time. Then…”
“Just a little time and you’re sure you’ll manage, eh?”
“W-Well… I won’t know until I try… I need to confirm some things… I can’t say it’s certain right now, but!”
The intellectual woman twisted her neck. “Uhh…” She looked doubtful of that answer.
“Well then, you can’t possibly ask us to believe you without reservation…”
“But I… why…”
[She] hung her head sadly at the mature woman’s statement. This time, a woman with an immediate sense of elegance who had been silently watching the others converse sighed, stood up, and glared at [her] with a piercing gaze.
“Why, you ask…? Are you trying to claim you’re in the right here? You’ve seen all that we put into getting this far, haven’t you? How badly do you think we’ve sought this chance? "I can’t say anything now, but we can try it again someday” - what a dream. No one would believe such a selfish claim.“
”…True. It’s unfortunate, but if you can’t offer us anything worth trusting, there’s no way. We didn’t get this far on half-hearted resolve… This isn’t a game, you know?“
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