What if Honma Himawari Had Quit the Audition That Day? - Episode 4

Ten days had passed since that day in the shopping district. Honma Himawari and Tsukino's "Late-Night Gudaguda Talk" was now streaming every Friday at midnight from Room 7 of the Karaoke Voice Box Minase location. With their fourth stream now behind them, their channel subscribers had finally crept past fifty. At most, they'd get two hundred views. The comments always numbered five or six. Even so, Himawari was having fun. The solo comedy material she'd honed during her late-night convenience store shifts, Tsukino would spin into something funny and entertaining. Sometimes they bombed. But every so often, there'd be a moment where Tsukino would laugh out loud, and in those moments, Himawari would feel a warmth deep in her chest — *Ah, I made her laugh.* Today's stream had ended, and the two were about to part ways in front of the karaoke box. "[excited]Himawari, look at this!" Tsukino suddenly thrust her smartphone in front of Himawari's face. Her high-pitched voice echoed through the shopping district at one in the morning. On the screen was the comment section of the stream archive they'd just finished. "[surprised]Huh? What? What's up?" Himawari blinked rapidly as she peered at the screen. There was one comment. No emoji, no kaomoji — just a simple sentence. *"That was fun. Looking forward to the next one."* "[excited]Right!? We've never gotten a serious comment like this before! It's always just 'mackerel lol' or 'bombing so hard kusa'!" "[laughing]You're right! But Tsukino, you seem pretty happy even when they call you 'mackerel.'" "[serious]Exactly! Even if I bomb, as long as my name gets out there, that's what matters! The most important thing for a comedian is getting people to remember you!" "[laughing]You really never waver, do you!" Himawari clutched her stomach laughing. Her fluffy brown bob swayed, her long bangs falling over her eyes. She brushed them aside, poking at her dimples. They laughed together like that for a while, then parted ways. A Friday night ritual. That's all it was supposed to be. Three days later, on Monday. Himawari woke up at five in the evening as usual and was pouring hot water into a cup ramen in the tiny kitchen of Corpo Minami when her phone buzzed. A LINE call. It was Tsukino. "[serious]Himawari. Open the archive. Right now. Last week's." The message bubble felt stiff somehow. None of the usual flood of stamps, either. "[surprised]Huh? Uh, okay, hold on." Himawari held down the lid of her cup ramen with her chopsticks as she opened the YouTube app. The channel: "Himawari and Tsukino's Late-Night Radio." The latest archive. She opened the comment section. "[surprised]Wha—!?" The sound escaped her before she could stop it. The comments, which had been at five just moments ago, had ballooned to over thirty. And almost all of them were the same kind of thing. *"What is this, an amateur talent show? lol"* *"If you wanna be comedians, at least write some actual material."* *"Seriously boring, you should just quit."* *"Aren't you embarrassed? lol"* Among them, there was one particularly long comment. *"Honestly, seeing stuff like this is just painful. People with no talent chasing dreams — why don't they ever realize it? Well, I guess they'll get hurt enough eventually and come back to reality."* Himawari's hands stopped. The center of her chest went cold and tight. (*No talent, chasing dreams.*) Those words spun around and around in her head. She didn't even notice the steam from the cup ramen hitting her face. (*It's just like that day.*) Two years ago. The final audition for Nijisanji. In a room in a big building in Osaka, everyone around her had sparkled, and she'd been the only one out of place. *It's not like someone like me could ever...* (*I knew it. I really don't have any talent.*) Her fingers, holding the phone, began to tremble. Just then, her phone signaled an incoming call. It was Tsukino. "[whispers]...Hello?" "[serious]Himawari. Where are you right now?" "[whispers]At my place, but..." "[serious]Get out here. Right now. The riverbank. The usual spot." The call ended. Himawari stared at the screen for a few seconds, then set down her cup ramen and headed for the door. She stepped outside. The late-spring night wind was cold against her faintly sweaty skin. The sky was already dark, the stars barely visible. She pedaled her bike toward the Minase River riverbank. She arrived in about ten minutes. Under the streetlight on the walking path, she spotted a flash of bright red short hair. Tsukino stood there, her hair done up in a little bun just above her left ear. Arms crossed, she was looking up at the sky. "[gentle]Tsukino..." When Himawari called out to her, Tsukino turned only her face toward her. Her dark eyes were just a little sharper than usual. "[serious]You saw them. The comments." "[sad]...Yeah. There were so many." "[serious]Don't let stuff like that get to you. We probably got posted on some aggregator site or something. That kind of thing happens. People share amateur streams and everyone piles on." "[whispers]Is that what it is..." "[serious]Those kinds of comments — the names of the people who write them don't even stick around. They're just the backbiting of random passersby. If you let every little thing like that get you up and down, you'll never make it as a comedian." Tsukino said it plainly. Her voice was strong, but somehow gentle, too. Himawari stayed silent, looking down. Her hands and feet were cold. She was still trembling. In her head, that comment kept repeating, over and over. (*No talent, chasing dreams.*) "[whispers]Tsukino... aren't you scared? Of stuff like that?" "[serious]I'm scared. Really scared. But —" Tsukino turned her body to face Himawari. The streetlight illuminated her face from below. Her round, dark eyes looked straight at Himawari. "[serious]I'm used to it now. Or rather, this is actually an improvement. The first time I bombed at a comedy live show, someone in the audience yelled 'Go home!' A live voice, right to my face." Himawari lifted her head. Her large brown eyes went wide. "[surprised]No way... that really..." "[serious]It's true. But you know, that's when I thought: *Ah, there's nowhere lower to go than this.* From there, the only way is to claw your way back up." Tsukino raised the right corner of her lips just slightly. It was her habit when she stood on stage. "[serious]So, Himawari. This is it. This is your 'rock bottom.' If you break here, this is where it ends. But if you claw your way up from here —" "[whispers]If I claw my way up...?" "[excited]Then it's obviously gonna get interesting!" Tsukino shouted it. Toward the river, with everything she had. Her voice bounced off the water's surface and was swallowed by the darkness. Himawari's mouth hung open. (*She really never wavers, this girl.*) Fifty times she'd bombed, and even now, she got told "boring" practically every time. And yet, Tsukino kept getting up on that stage. Deep in her chest, a warmth began to spread. The cold feeling from moments ago was melting away. "[laughing]...Tsukino, you really are..." Himawari laughed. Before she knew it, tears were running down her cheeks. She didn't even know herself if it was happiness or frustration. Just that a mix of emotions had welled up and turned into tears. "[surprised]Wha— hey, why are you crying!" "[laughing]Because you're so cool! You're always so lame, and then suddenly you say something that cool!" "[angry]Don't call me lame!" Tsukino pretended to be mad and poked Himawari's shoulder. Himawari hopped back, then immediately clung to Tsukino's arm. "[whispers]...Thank you, Tsukino." "[gentle]...You're welcome." The two of them stood there on the riverbank for a while. The murmur of the Minase River was quiet in the background. Somewhere, a frog croaked. "[excited]So what do we do for the next stream?" "[surprised]Huh? We're still doing it!? I mean, after all those comments?" "[laughing]Of course we are! If anything, we should just turn it into material! 'The Corner Where We Seriously Read Aloud Slanderous Comments'! That's what we're doing next!" "[surprised]Whaaat, isn't that actually even scarier!? Isn't that way too much of a challenger move!?" "[excited]It's fine! Even if we bomb, as long as our names get out there, that's what matters!" "[laughing]So it always comes back to that!" Himawari clutched her stomach laughing. Tsukino laughed along with her. The sky was still dark, but somehow, it felt like she could see just a few more stars than before. Late night. Himawari was back in her apartment. Corpo Minami, Room 205. In the corner of the room sat that cardboard box. The one labeled "For Audition" in marker. On top of it rested the yellow hairpin she'd bought in the shopping district. Himawari sat down in front of the box. "[whispers]I thought I was going to run away again." She murmured it, as if talking to the box. "[whispers]When I saw those comments, I thought, *That's it, I can't do this. I knew I didn't have any talent.* That's what I thought." Her fingers touched the lid of the box. "[whispers]But Tsukino told me. She said this is rock bottom. That from here, the only way is to claw my way back up." She opened the lid. Inside were a bent-up notebook, the voice recorder she'd used for practice, and the outfit she'd planned to wear that day. All of it was her from two years ago. Himawari picked up the notebook. She opened it. The pages were packed with her self-introduction script. The traces of her practice, the marks where she'd erased and rewritten over and over, were still there. "[whispers]...I really was giving it everything back then, too." A tear fell onto the notebook. But it wasn't a sad tear. (*If I'm with Tsukino, this time for sure.*) The center of her chest grew warm again. Himawari closed the notebook and placed it back in the box. Then, she put the yellow hairpin in her hair. She looked in the bathroom mirror. Against her brown bob, the hairpin glinted faintly. Her eyes were a little red from crying too much, but the corners of her mouth were smiling. "[excited]Alright!" She hopped up and slapped both her cheeks with her hands. She couldn't wait for next Friday.

日本語

What is Novelia? →

Episode 4

Name: What if Honma Himawari Had Quit the Audition That Day?
Author: Novelia

What is Novelia?

Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.

Learn more about Novelia →New sign-ups get 5,000pt