Saturday morning at eight o'clock, Kuroha Akira opened his eyes.
Perhaps because he couldn't sleep soundly in an unfamiliar room—the futon was comfortable but the surroundings were wrong—he only managed about four hours of rest before his consciousness stirred. His head still ached a little, a slight after-effect of staying up all night. Although he felt like rolling over and going back to sleep like any sensible person would, he rubbed his eyes and forced himself out of bed.
Because he had to get up now and begin his strategy to win over Aunt Akiko. This was a critical moment—the decisive battle of information warfare.
This was also the important information about her mother's weaknesses that Takanashi Mirai had provided last night.
"Mom occasionally does recording work at home on weekends, and it's the kind of work she absolutely doesn't want anyone to know about."
"Although she might think I haven't found out yet, we live together, so how could I not notice? I'm not blind."
"To keep me from knowing, Mom usually works while I'm asleep, but I often pretend to sleep and play games until late at night, so I actually found out a long time ago. I just pretended not to know because I felt it would be very awkward to expose her."
"Tomorrow morning, I should still be asleep, so Mom will probably go do her voice acting work as usual. If you really plan to… uh, confront my mom, you can wake up earlier and expose her face-to-face."
"At that time, to get you to help her keep it a secret, Mom will probably tell you some truths she can't tell me… Of course, all of this is predicated on her not knowing that you're already on my side."
As for what kind of voice acting Akiko was doing, Takanashi Mirai hadn't elaborated—only showing a shy, awkward expression that was hard to speak of. That told Kuroha Akira everything he needed to know.
It was likely adult content.
Voice actors also operated in two worlds: those who did voice-overs for late-night anime and eroge games were 'underground' voice actors. These voice actors usually only provided their voices—they didn't show their faces, didn't use their real names, and weren't exposed to the public eye.
Hmm? Kuroha Akira mused. I feel like Shion might be more suited for this path?
Recalling Shion's soft, breathy murmurs from his phone last night—the way her voice had curled through the speaker like velvet—Kuroha Akira suddenly felt that this unorthodox path might actually be quite suitable for her. She had the voice for it, the natural talent.
However, from a man's perspective, he didn't really want her unseemly voice to be heard by others. That was territory he'd prefer to keep private. Besides, underground voice actors probably didn't earn much, right?
It was a niche market with limited returns.
Speaking of which, what Kuroha Akira couldn't quite understand was: Takanashi Akiko was already a top-tier national voice actress. Was there still a need for her to take on such 'undignified work'? It seemed beneath her status.
In any case, to get to the bottom of this mystery, Kuroha Akira stealthily opened the door and walked out of the guest room. His footsteps were light, practiced—the kind of silence you developed when you needed to move through a house without waking anyone.
Akiko's studio was on the second floor, but it was said to be very soundproof, making it difficult to hear sounds from inside the room while standing outside. Professional-grade insulation.
After carefully considering his plan, Kuroha Akira finally decided… to burst right in!
Although it was very impolite—borderline invasion of privacy—if he wanted to 'catch her in the act,' this was the fastest way. Now was the time to be direct; if he beat around the bush, who knew how long it would take to get to the bottom of it. Subtlety was for people with time to spare.
After all, Akiko had to hide this from her own daughter, let alone an outsider. She would definitely zip her mouth shut and not reveal a single thing if given the chance to prepare.
However, when Kuroha Akira tried to turn the doorknob of the studio, he found the door was locked.
Tch. Because there was an outsider staying at home today, had her guard been raised? Or was she always this cautious?
And hearing the sound of the doorknob turning, Takanashi Akiko also reacted immediately. She stopped her recording work, frantically turning off the recording equipment with the practiced speed of someone who'd done this many times before. Then she opened the door.
At this moment, Takanashi Akiko had returned to normal—or at least, she was trying her best to appear normal. But because of her nervousness, her body temperature had risen, so she was fanning her face with her hand, her cheeks flushed and somewhat suggestive. She looked like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have.
"Ah, ah~ Good morning, Kuroha-kun!" Her voice was bright, perhaps too bright. "You're up so early, aren't you going to sleep a little longer?"
Kuroha Akira's surprise attack had missed—the door had been locked, and she'd had time to compose herself—so he could only temporarily switch to Plan B: using words to expose her lie directly.
"Good morning, Akiko." He smiled casually. "You're the one who's up early. You were up quite late last night, weren't you?"
"Hehe, because of work." She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm already used to having my days and nights mixed up. Occupational hazard."
"What kind of voice acting needs to be done at night?" Kuroha Akira asked, knowing full well the answer. "Although I've heard that idols and actors have irregular schedules because their work hours are hard to fix, voice acting is different from filming—it's usually done during the day, right? Studios have normal business hours."
"This…" Takanashi Akiko's gaze became somewhat evasive, darting away from his. "It's just some localization work for foreign films… You know, dubbing, translation, time-sensitive projects."
It was very clear that she was lying. Her body language betrayed her completely—the way she wouldn't meet his eyes, the way her hands fidgeted with the edge of her apron.
Then she very stiffly changed the subject, the classic deflection technique.
"Ah, Kuroha-kun, you must be hungry, right?" She clasped her hands together, her smile returning. "I'll go make breakfast for you, okay? I also want to know what Mirai talked to you about."
"Okay, I'm a little hungry too."
"Hehe, then please wait a moment. I'll go make breakfast for you right away." She was already moving toward the kitchen, grateful for the escape. "Bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich—is that okay? Or does Kuroha-kun prefer a Japanese breakfast? I can also make grilled mackerel and miso soup, you know!"
Kuroha Akira wanted to say that he was actually more used to eating soy milk, fried dough sticks, and tea eggs—but that would raise too many questions. Eating rice so early in the morning felt too strange to his transmigrated sensibilities.
"A sandwich will be fine."
"Mm, then Kuroha-kun, you can go wash up first." She gestured down the hallway. "I've prepared new toothbrushes and towels for you—everything you need."
"Okay, thank you."
"Hehe, you're welcome!" Her voice was warm, genuine. "Just make yourself at home."
After washing up—the toothbrush was still in its package, the towel fluffy and new—Kuroha Akira went downstairs and saw Takanashi Akiko busy at the kitchen counter, moving with practiced efficiency. The scene gave him a strange sense of returning to his student days… Uh, he was indeed a student again now.
But before, Kuroha Akira had never really considered himself a proper student. Now it was as if even his mood had reverted to his school days—something about the domestic setting triggered that nostalgia.
It was because the 'feeling of home' that Takanashi Akiko gave him was too strong. The warmth, the care, the attention to detail—it was like a soft blanket wrapping around him.
It was as if she really was his mother… Kuroha Akira even felt like calling her 'Mom' for a brief, irrational moment.
Even if Akiko was a national maternal voice actress, was she really this motherly in her daily life too? Could anyone maintain that level of maternal warmth off the clock?
Although she was indeed Takanashi Mirai's mother, Kuroha Akira always felt it was a bit too 'deliberate'—like a performance that never ended. Because he couldn't find any elements in her other than 'mother'; he couldn't see any 'Takanashi Akiko' personality underneath the role. She was mother, and nothing else.
And this was also what Takanashi Mirai had told him—about her mother's second weakness, or rather, strangeness.
"Mom has always been obsessed with becoming an 'ideal mother.' I used to think she was influenced by her work, but later I realized that she genuinely intended to carry out this idea to the end. It's not just a phase—it's her life's mission."
"However, logically speaking, Mom shouldn't only have a motherly side, right? She's my mother, but in front of other people, she should just be 'Takanashi Akiko.' For example, if I really had a father, she should also have a wife's side, right?"
"However, I've never seen any other side of her. It's as if… she's just playing the role of 'mother'… Of course, it's also possible I'm just overthinking it."
"But every time I see her showing the same maternal love to other children, I feel a little uncomfortable…"
"She's very good to you too, right? After all, she's the 'ideal mother'…"
So, Kuroha Akira realized, Takanashi Mirai had actually felt her mother was a bit strange for a long time.
It wasn't a sudden suspicion—it was a slowly growing unease that had been building for years. It was only after that mean-mouthed classmate had pointed it out so cruelly that she could no longer pretend not to know anything. The illusion had shattered.
She needed the truth.
Kuroha Akira needed it too.
So, during breakfast, Kuroha Akira began a new round of verbal offense. He couldn't afford to be subtle anymore—direct confrontation was the only way forward.
"Actually… I apologize to you!"
Kuroha Akira leaned on the table with both hands, lowering his head in a gesture of guilt and self-reproach. It was a performance, but a convincing one.
"Huh?" Takanashi Akiko opened her mouth in surprise. Kuroha Akira's sudden apology caught her completely off guard.
"Because Mirai suddenly became a shut-in, I bear some responsibility."
"Oh?" Her brow furrowed with concern. "Is it related to you too, Kuroha-kun?"
"Yes, actually, I have a friend who is aspiring to become a voice actress." Kuroha Akira's voice was heavy with 'regret.' "In pursuit of her career, she chose to drop out of school. Mirai heard about this, which is why she decided not to go to school anymore. She was inspired—or rather, influenced—by my friend's example."
"Ah…"
That was indeed the truth, although Takanashi Mirai had only been inspired by Shion, not directly influenced. Still, the core of it was accurate.
"Is that so…" Takanashi Akiko's expression grew distant. "That child, Mirai… she still hasn't given up on becoming a voice actress, has she…?"
"Give up?" Kuroha Akira seized the opportunity, leaning forward. "So you do have a reason for not wanting her to be a voice actress?"
And Takanashi Akiko finally couldn't hold it in anymore. The dam broke. Treating Kuroha Akira as an outlet—someone safe to confide in—she poured everything out to him, her voice trembling with years of suppressed anxiety.
"…Mirai has a fatal flaw as a voice actress." She set down her spoon, her hands clasped tightly together. "She has difficulty controlling her vocal pitch well, which leads to very poor singing skills. She struggles to stay on key when singing. It's a fundamental weakness."
Simply put, Kuroha Akira translated, she's tone-deaf.
Although she played instruments, it seemed she wasn't very good at singing—hence her choice to become a P-producer and use virtual singers as her medium. That made sense.
But just because she lacked talent, did that mean she shouldn't be a voice actress at all? No! There had to be other reasons!
"Well, mastering vocal pitch and singing skills can be compensated for with effort, right?" Kuroha Akira pressed. "Practice makes perfect, doesn't it?"
"It can be compensated for with effort…"
Takanashi Akiko admitted this point reluctantly. But then she immediately showed a very serious expression, her usually narrowed eyes opening wide with intensity.
"But, you can't become a voice actress just by working hard."
On this point, she had the most right to speak. Because Takanashi Akiko's journey was the most accurate portrayal of that brutal truth.
"Moreover, Kuroha-kun, do you think becoming a voice actress is the finish line?" Her voice was sharp, cutting. "Becoming a voice actress is merely standing at the starting line. The real race hasn't even begun."
"Currently, there are approximately over 1,400 voice actors across Japan, plus new trainees at agencies, totaling around 2,500 people." She recited the numbers like a veteran recounting battlefield casualties. "It doesn't sound like many, does it?"
"However, an episode of anime typically requires 5 to 10 voice actors, and the CV lineup for a series doesn't change until it concludes. A season has about 30 anime series, and some voice actors participate in multiple anime, so the spots are even fewer… Even if we disregard this factor, only a mere three hundred voice actors genuinely get regular roles."
She paused, letting the numbers sink in.
"In other words, less than one-fifth of voice actors can truly support themselves through voice acting alone. The remaining voice actors—unable to get enough work—can only find other jobs to supplement their living expenses. They work part-time, they take on odd jobs, they struggle to survive."
"Many voice actors have to struggle for many years before getting important roles, and some may even remain obscure until the very end…" Her voice cracked slightly. "Kuroha-kun, do you honestly think all of this can be overcome by 'effort' alone? That dedication can overcome such overwhelming odds?"
Kuroha Akira was speechless upon hearing this. The cold, hard reality of the industry was laid bare before him. Finally, he could only sigh.
"You really understand the voice actor industry…"
"These are all things someone once told me." Takanashi Akiko's smile was bittersweet. "I'm just repeating what I've learned. The lessons were hard-won."
Had someone really told her such realistic things? Kuroha Akira wondered. Saying this—wasn't it advising the other party not to be delusional and to give up on unrealistic dreams early? It seemed cruel.
However, Akiko ultimately achieved the status of a national voice actress, which was a harsh slap in the face to that person, wasn't it? She had proven them wrong.
"But I heard that you, Akiko, are already an incredible voice actress—reaching a household name level." Kuroha Akira leaned forward. "I believe you weren't famous from the very beginning. But since you could reach this height, couldn't you guide Mirai… your own daughter? Give her the mentorship you never had?"
"…"
At this moment, Takanashi Akiko showed a very sorrowful smile. She looked like she was smiling, but she also looked like she was crying—a heartbreaking blend of emotions that cut through the morning light.
Kuroha Akira instinctively felt that this was most likely the root of all the mysteries! The key that would unlock everything.
And after a period of heavy silence, Takanashi Akiko suddenly asked a strange question that seemed completely unrelated to the current topic—like a non-sequitur from a cryptic oracle.
"Kuroha-kun… do you think talent exists?"
"It should exist." He answered without hesitation.
After all, he could 'personally' see the word 'talent' inscribed on his own right hand. It was a reality he lived with every day.
"I'm like you," Akiko continued. "I believe talent exists. And I am someone who hasn't been blessed by talent…"
"No, no, no—how could you not have talent…?" Kuroha Akira's mind raced. She was already a national voice actress. Shouldn't that at least be an S-rank?
Saying this, Kuroha Akira instinctively looked at Takanashi Akiko's right hand—the hand that was holding a spoon…
Wait. It seemed there really weren't any words visible. The back of her hand was blank, ordinary.
Huh?
Kuroha Akira was so startled that he stood up directly, his chair scraping against the floor. Without a word, he grabbed Takanashi Akiko's hand and pulled it in front of him, his eyes searching desperately for the familiar script.
Takanashi Akiko, still immersed in her sadness, was suddenly grabbed by a young boy decades younger than her. Like a young girl experiencing her first crush, she blushed and stammered nervously, completely thrown off by the sudden physical contact.
"Eh eh? Um, Kuroha-kun, this is a bit…"
But Kuroha Akira had no mind to care about Takanashi Akiko's reaction. Because the moment he held her hand, he saw an astonishing change.
Words appeared on her right hand—as if materializing from nothingness.
[ Motherly Voice Actor EX ]
EX?
If it meant Extreme, then did it mean her talent had reached its peak? The highest possible tier?
But what was a Motherly Voice Actor? Was there even such a talent category? That seemed far too specific, like a character class from a niche RPG. Kuroha Akira was completely bewildered by this never-before-seen type of talent.
He wondered: can a voice actor even be a talent?
At this moment, Kuroha Akira remembered that Takanashi Mirai's S-rank talent was also [ Online Streamer ], which now seemed equally strange. Her other two A-rank talents were e-sports and editing—which were clearly 'abilities'—but online streamer was a 'profession.'
Generally speaking, one needed certain abilities to become a professional. Talent should refer to those underlying abilities, right? Just like Shion's three S-rank talents were all abilities—not corresponding to a specific profession, although it was easy to think of some professions just by looking at those talents.
However, for this mother-daughter pair from the Takanashi family, what was inscribed on their right hands were 'professions' themselves. It was like reading a job title instead of a skills list.
This completely subverted Kuroha Akira's understanding. The rules he thought he knew were being rewritten before his eyes.
However, the right hand being talent and the left hand being proficiency was just a conclusion Kuroha Akira had drawn after his own observations. The lack of a system explanation made this difficult—he couldn't verify if his guesses were correct without a manual.
And why was Takanashi Akiko's right hand initially blank, only appearing after he grasped it?
Immediately, Kuroha Akira saw a further change, a transformation that made his blood run cold.
He personally witnessed the words [ Motherly Voice Actor EX ] slowly 'decompose' before his eyes—breaking down like sand through an hourglass—into something else entirely.
[ Voice Acting D ]
"Wha…what?!" His voice cracked.
It actually changed!
No—can the words on the right hand even change at all?!
What on earth is going on?!