White Melody, Azure Promise ~ Our Secret After-School Lessons ~
Shirahama Mashiro, a rookie actress who just landed the heroine role in the popular hero show 'Hero Chronicle,' has a major problem. She's perfect at action and dancing, but her acting keeps getting called 'robotic and wooden.'
Her agency assigns her a personal acting coach: Aoyagi Ren, a senior actor known for his cold demeanor and exceptional skill. His training is relentless. Every day after school, Mashiro is forced to repeat emotional scenes over and over. When she admits she can't act 'in
White Melody, Azure Promise ~ Our Secret After-School Lessons ~ - Romantic situations are bad for my heart.
The morning light sparkled off the fountain in front of Yoyogi Station.
The spray rode the wind, carrying a slight chill.
Shirahama Mashiro stood at the fountain's edge, staring at her own palms.
(My hands are shaking.)
She'd tossed and turned countless times since last night.
Aoyagi Ren's voice had been looping endlessly in her head.
*"I'll play the role of your lover."*
Her heart was so loud.
"...It's fine. It's just practice. Just practice."
She told herself that.
But her voice was far smaller and hoarser than she'd intended.
(Right. This is all just acting practice.)
(Ren-senpai is my teacher—)
Just then.
"Five minutes early. Well done."
A low voice came from directly behind her.
Mashiro flinched, her shoulders trembling, and spun around.
Standing there was a tall man with black hair swept back carelessly.
Aoyagi Ren looked down at Mashiro with his usual expressionless face.
But there was one thing different from usual.
In his hand, he carried a small paper bag.
"...Um, that..."
When Mashiro timidly asked, Ren's eyebrows moved just the slightest bit.
"Taiyaki. There was that shop near the office you said you liked, right?"
—What.
Mashiro's mind went completely blank.
Taiyaki... I've never once mentioned anything about that.
"I asked Kojima. Apparently, you have a weakness for sweets in general."
Saying that, Ren casually held out the paper bag.
When she opened it, a puff of steam rose up.
Freshly baked taiyaki, stuffed full of red bean paste.
"Today's lesson will be long. Get some sugar in you. When you run out of sweets, your concentration plummets. Confirmed by Kojima's data."
Mashiro accepted the taiyaki.
Her fingertips grew gently warm.
(He looked into it...)
(The things I like.)
Something deep in her chest tightened.
Mashiro felt bewildered by an emotion she didn't quite understand herself.
"...Thank you, very much."
Her voice cracked.
Ren said nothing more and briskly started walking.
Mashiro clutched the taiyaki to her chest and hurriedly chased after him.
About a ten-minute walk.
The two of them sat down at the terrace seats of a small café called "L'Atelier de Mami."
It was a French-style café with a cute orange awning.
From the terrace seats facing the street, they could see the greenery of Yoyogi Park.
Ren pulled out Mashiro's chair and seated her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The motion was so smooth that Mashiro froze up instead.
"For drinks, is a café latte fine? If you'd prefer something sweeter, I can order a caramel latte as well."
Ren's voice was just a little softer than usual.
Mashiro's face instantly flushed hot.
"Uh, ah, yes, um, a regular café latte is... fine."
Ren simply gazed steadily at Mashiro as she stumbled over her words.
(Stop it, don't look at me like that...!)
She screamed inside her head.
Before long, two café lattes were brought over.
In tall slender glasses, the milk formed beautiful layers.
Mashiro was so tense her hands were shaking.
The moment she tried to pick up her cup—
*Crash.*
With a loud clatter, the cup tipped over.
Brown liquid spread across the table.
"Ah—!! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!!"
Mashiro turned pale and bowed her head over and over.
She hurriedly grabbed a napkin.
Wordlessly, Ren wiped up the spilled café latte with another napkin.
"Calm down. You haven't even drunk it yet. It's not a problem."
His voice held no agitation whatsoever.
"I'm really, so sorry..."
Mashiro was red all the way to her ears.
(This is the worst... why, on the very first day...)
In the time until a new cup was brought, Mashiro repeated "I'm fine" and "I'm sorry" a combined total of twelve times.
Trying to pull herself together, Mashiro reached for a small container at the edge of the table.
It held sugar cubes.
One, two.
She dropped them into her cup.
She tried to do the same for Ren's.
"...Hey."
Expressionless, Ren stopped Mashiro's hand.
"That's salt."
—What?
Mashiro stared intently at the small bottle in her hand.
Tiny transparent grains.
*Lick.*
She tasted a bit from her fingertip.
...Salty.
"...No way."
Mashiro shrank into herself on the spot.
Her face felt like it was about to burst into flames.
As for Ren, he had already taken a sip.
"...It's salty."
He muttered flatly.
Mashiro's heart pounded wildly.
She was so mortified she wanted to disappear.
"I really, I just... why am I like this..."
To the downcast Mashiro, Ren said curtly:
"It's fine to fail. That's what practice is for."
—Practice, huh.
The moment she heard that word, Mashiro's heart gave another loud leap.
Right. He's only being kind to me because it's practice.
It's all just acting.
And yet.
(Why does my chest ache so much?)
Mashiro bit her lip.
After that, they moved to the tree-lined path in Yoyogi Park.
Large zelkova trees covered the path above like a tunnel.
Green leaves swayed in the wind, making a soft rustling sound.
Ren stood before Mashiro, who was sitting on a bench, and suddenly held out his hand.
"Next training exercise. Stand up."
Timidly, Mashiro took his hand.
Ren's hand was large, his knuckles a little firm.
There were traces of small scars from action scene rehearsals.
(A man's hand...)
The moment she thought that, Ren pulled her hand firmly.
Mashiro's body floated lightly closer to him.
The distance between them suddenly shrank.
"We'll practice expressing 'love.' Alright, look into my eyes."
—Eyes.
Mashiro fearfully raised her face.
Right before her were Ren's cool, single-lidded dark eyes.
She'd never seen them this close before.
The depths of his grayish-black eyes absorbed the summer sunlight, glittering faintly.
"Good, just like that. ...I love you."
—What did he just say?
A low, slightly husky voice passed right by her ear.
Ren, still holding Mashiro's hand, had brought his face close to her ear.
"Mashiro, I love you."
The vibration of his voice trembled through the air, tickling the fine hairs of Mashiro's ear.
She felt her body temperature spike all at once.
Her face, her ears, her neck—hot like a steam locomotive.
Her heartbeat was so loud she thought Ren might hear it.
"Can you hear me? ...I love you, Mashiro."
A third time.
In that instant, the strength drained from Mashiro's knees.
*Thump.*
Like a marionette with its strings cut, she crumpled down on the spot.
"I-I can't... my heart is going to break...!"
Her face bright red, Mashiro let go of Ren's hand and covered both her ears with her own hands.
Silence.
And then.
"...Pfft."
A faint sound, like air escaping.
Mashiro fearfully lifted her face through the gaps between her fingers.
Ren was laughing.
His mouth relaxed just a little, his eyes narrowing.
It was a completely different face from his usual icy expression.
"You're interesting."
His voice as he said that sounded exasperated, yet somehow, it was gentle.
—Ah.
Mashiro burned that smile into the back of her eyes.
She was happy.
That Ren had smiled for her—from the bottom of her heart, she was happy.
But.
Right in the center of her chest, a sharp, needle-like pain shot through.
(It's all just acting.)
(The gentle voice, the taiyaki, the 'I love you'—all of it.)
I'm just a practice partner.
To Ren-senpai, I'm just a student.
That's all.
Happiness and pain tangled together messily inside her chest.
Mashiro still didn't know the true name of this feeling she couldn't put a label on.
As the sun set and the sky turned deep blue,
the two of them were on the rooftop of Studio Xenon.
The lesson had long since ended.
But neither of them could quite bring themselves to go home.
On the rooftop were two vending machines and one old bench.
Through the fence, they could see Tokyo Tower lit up in orange.
Ren leaned against the fence, drinking canned coffee.
Mashiro sat on the bench a little distance away, cradling a can of soda in both hands.
From far away, the murmur of the city rode the wind to their ears.
"...I don't have the right to seriously fall in love with anyone."
Suddenly, Ren spoke.
Mashiro looked up.
Ren kept his gaze on Tokyo Tower and took another sip of his canned coffee.
"Ever since I signed my current contract, I've thought that. I love this job, so I threw away everything else. But... sometimes, I don't know anymore."
The lights of Tokyo Tower reflected faintly in Ren's eyes.
His voice sounded less like he was talking to someone and more like he was telling himself.
"...It's my own life, but there are too many things I can't choose for myself. I'm tired."
Mashiro couldn't say anything.
She just noticed that Ren's left hand, gripping the can with force, was trembling slightly.
Unconsciously, he was squeezing his own left wrist tightly.
(To think he would make a face like this...)
The Ren-senpai in her mind was always cold, strong, and perfect.
But the man before her now seemed so fragile, as if he might break.
She wanted to quietly reach out her hand.
She wanted to touch that trembling hand.
But she couldn't.
—No.
Something hot welled up from deep in her chest.
This isn't just an extension of practice.
It isn't just the respect you feel for a teacher.
I...
(I'm—)
She bit her lip.
The faint taste of iron seeped from between her teeth.
She was afraid to say the name of that emotion out loud.
Late at night, in a house in Suginami.
Passing through the pitch-dark living room, Mashiro returned to her room.
Her mother was already asleep.
She turned on the light.
A small six-tatami room.
On the bed against the wall, in the gaps of the bookshelf, under the desk—
over fifty stuffed animals sat in their own chosen spots, looking at her.
Mashiro collapsed onto the bed and hugged the biggest one among them—a rabbit plushie.
Pure white, with long ears and a slightly troubled expression.
Its name was "Yukimi."
The first friend she'd ever bought with her own allowance, back in elementary school.
"...Yukimi. I..."
Her voice trembled.
The corners of her eyes grew hot with tears.
The words she'd been pushing deep down in her heart all day came spilling out as if a dam had broken.
"I... I'm in love with Ren-senpai."
The moment she said it out loud, a single tear spilled over.
"This isn't acting. It isn't practice. I'm seriously, about him—"
Her arms tightened around Yukimi.
Like happiness.
Like fear.
Like pain.
All sorts of emotions rushed in at once, leaving her head a mess.
She looked outside the window.
Far away, Tokyo Tower shone like a tiny bean of light.
The same light Ren had been gazing at with that expression earlier.
"...I've never felt this way before. I don't know what to do."
Tears quietly soaked into Yukimi's long ears.
Carrying this ache and warmth in her chest, she would have to continue practicing by his side from tomorrow onward.
Whether that made her happy, or whether it hurt.
Mashiro closed her eyes, still clutching the stuffed animal.
The fifty plushies in her room silently watched over her first love.
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