“Soooo~ Emiko, what’s your opinion on the play? Seems kinda interesting for a Hanako Hall original, don’t you agree? I’m not really sure what to think about it though, is it good? You’re better at these things.” He said while absentmindedly flipping through the script.

“Hey, you know I helped write it. It's not professional to comment on your own work.” She replied, her head also tucked down and deep in reading through the script only with a lot more focus.

Emiko was a short thin girl, she had black long hair pulled into pigtails that fell in front of her shoulders while her fringe hung around her face and partially concealed her thick black framed glasses. She appeared to be around the 14-year-old mark in age, but in truth, she was 16, something which annoyed her ever so slightly.

“Now I’m curious. Come on, tell me more about it. At least give me a little bit, pretty please?”

“Seijun, you have the same script as I do. Take the time to read it, and you’ll understand it.” She replied surveying Seijun’s goofy face, easily seeing that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer here.

Emiko folded her script neatly and placed it to one side of the table before her. She cleared her throat, already having decided to give in, and spoke, “Us of I’s core theme is about losing yourself, mainly your identity, and then working through the process to rediscover a new, better you. As you may be aware, most people often tie their status and self-worth to achievements in life, those achievements may not even be their own. For example, the career of your parents may boost your status or the car your friend drives. The point is to take that and boil it down further. Consider this, your name is a big part of who you are, imagine if you lost that, or met someone exactly like you who had the same name and appearance, how would that make you feel? Would you feel inferior? Lesser? That’s the core theme, the idea behind this all, losing everything about yourself, and then having to carry on and find new meanings to justify who you are as a person. Do you understand now?”

“Huh? Yeah, thanks. Loss, sadness, depression, I get it.” He said tuning in for the first time and having clearly not heard a thing.

“What a surprise, I am so shocked that you didn’t listen, Seijun.” Emiko gave a deadpan response.

To which Seijun just giggled, his short brown hair ruffling as he did. He was a lot taller than Emiko and had brown eyes to her green. He was quite attractive, not model level, but he was easy on the eyes which was enough to earn him the odd ‘coo’ from his mother’s middle-aged friends.

“I did listen, kinda… I’ll read the script and then get back to you with anything I don’t understand. That’s a fair trade, right? Yep, that looks like agreement to me.” He commented based on Emiko’s annoyed yet tolerant expression, “Anyways, are you happy with your role? Was the childhood best friend what you wanted? Or did Emiko have her eyes on one of the mains? I’m cast as one of the robot doctors that shows up in the final act, so you better not complain too much.” He added jokingly as he’d gotten the less involved part compared to her.

“No, I’m not suited to play the leads. Yuki fits me fine, honestly, it was a better role than I was expecting. I’m a little worried that Director Ttio gave me this role as thanks for helping him with the script. I hope I don’t mess it up. It’d be embarrassing to screw up the first real job I’ve had since 13.” Emiko whispered with a nervous glance at her fidgeting hands.

“Hmm, the director wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t the best person for the role, y’know?” He said, trying to put her at ease. “You’ll do great, so don’t worry about it.”

Emiko smiled at Seijun before turning to survey the crowd of minging actors and support staff. Her eyes searched before picking out her two targets and falling in to linger on them.

“Speaking of… what do you think about our leads?” She asked carefully, worried about Seijun saying something silly and potentially starting unnecessary drama.

“You’re not talking about Kaede, are you?” He asked, fully aware that it wasn’t her that Emiko was curious about.

Kaede Esumi was considered a veteran among the Hanako Hall acting theatre even though she’s only been here for a little over a year, so her skills were well boasted of even towards a relatively new member such as Emiko. Still, with her confident, mature smile, and shoulder-length chestnut brown hair that shone with the warmth of an autumn’s day, she lit up the room. Her milky hazel eyes positively buzzed with energy, and her every subtle movement was adorned with grace.

She was an actress through and through.

Emiko shook her head, “There’s no chance Kaede’s performance would be subpar. I’m not sure if she could give a bad performance even if she tried.” She concluded, her gaze passing over Kaede and settling over the second lead actress, whom she was truly anxious about.

Bright, wide blue eyes that seemed to reflect the whole room in clarity, each minute detail highlighted in them down to the hair follicle. It gave the impression of an observant owl, watching, perched on high above the rest of the people below her like scattering mice.

She was imposing, that’s the feeling Emiko got from her. But it wasn’t in the way that a harsh boss or army sergeant was imposing. No, she was a ten-foot thick wall towering over them like a wolf over a rabbit, stone-faced and unnegotiable in all ways.

And her clothes further enhanced that feeling, like a fine wine paired expertly with a meal from a 5-star restaurant. It all matched, beauty interwoven with elegant threads. Even a person as poorly versed in fashion as Emiko could tell that her outfit was assembled with thought and precision that’d put a surgeon to shame.

Her hair was nothing else but flawless, travelling down to her lower back, its sand touched blonde demanding attention in a lustre that radiated from out as if it was the sole fire here, greedily gorging on the forced focus it was given.

Pale pearl white skin wrapped tightly around her slim, well-proportioned figure all laced around an hourglass with a pair of breasts large enough to notice, but not enough to steal attention from the true perfection that is her face.

If her eyes were the blue searchlights of a lighthouse, then her facial features were the ocean. Elegance untamed that threatened to pull you in and trap you forever in its depths. It was the type of beauty that could only make sense in a framed art piece housed in a gallery, those sculpted high cheekbones and that planned nose that had to have been painted with a silky hand.

It was all so foreign, unreal, yet the girl before Emiko was distinctly and undeniably real. Perfectly Japanese, perfectly alive.

And yet, it wasn’t just her appearance that grabbed Emiko by the eyes and forced her to stare at her. But her aura… hollow, empty, like the ash left after a nuclear fire has burnt down half the planet.

It reminded Emiko of her grandmother’s funeral. It was on a warm sunny day, and she could remember running up to the coffin as a child, unfamiliar with death and half expecting her grandmother to be sitting there smiling, welcoming her into her embrace like always with a head pat and a tucked away treat.

However, what awaited her was a corpse in an open casket, grey, cold, and lifeless with nothing left to offer to the world.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

That’s the feeling she got from this girl, not the aura of death, but the aura of a green screen, simply waiting to be glossed over with something else. As if she didn’t even care what happened to her, about what she’d become, unbothered no matter how she was victimised.

It was… strange.

Emiko was the only one who’d noticed anything, and even she was still confused and desperately trying to rationalise what she thought she was picking up. On the flip side, Seijun hadn’t spotted a thing. He was usually quite good at reading people, but that understanding came from interacting with them over time, he didn’t have the gut insight that Emiko was currently riding on in uncertainty.

“Soooo, the hot blonde girl? The one who's replacing pretty boy superstar Isamu Nakahara?” He mocked, taking a shot at Isamu who he’d never even met, only heard about from Emiko who rarely had good things to say about him.

“Seina Kanemoto.” She corrected, a little annoyed that Seijun watered down who she was to just her appearance. “The director introduced her literally 5 minutes ago, how have you already forgotten?”

He shrugged with disinterest, “I’ve already got a script to memorise, can’t expect me to remember them both on day one- and don’t you say it!” He cut her off before she could begin, “I already know one name isn’t the same as a whole script, soooo, I promise I won’t forget it from this point on, is that fair?”

She eyed him with suspicion, she’d barely known him for three months, but he hadn’t broken a promise yet, “Fine, I accept.” She conceded.

“Great!” Seijun replied with a dumb smile that’d better suit a delighted school child in a playground rather than a high schooler approaching graduation. “And anyways~ wouldn’t you know more about her? Mrs. Tsukumo is her manager, right? So doesn’t that technically make you two co-workers? Or co-stars? Co… managees? Ah, you get it.” He finished still a little unsure of what to call it.

“I didn’t even know Isamu left to join a talent agency until Director Ttio told us all he’d pulled out last minute. Hatsuko’s a good manager, I wouldn’t be with her if she wasn’t… but I’m usually left in the dark. Not that that’s bad or anything,” She quickly excused Hatsuko’s actions, “She isn’t obligated to tell me anything… it’d just be nice to be kept in the loop a bit.” She finished meekly.

“Have you tried talking to her? It might help… it also might not, but you won’t know till you try.” He offered, a little lost in whether to continue giving advice or simply reassure her.

She straightened her back and turned to Senjin, causing him to startle at the sudden seriousness, “Who? Seina or Hatsuko?”

“Emm… both?” He answered half-unsure about his own answer, “I suppose you’d get the answer no matter which one you asked.” He paused, “Wait, are you still wondering about Seina Kanemoto, or is this about being in the loop? I’m a little confused…”

“A little bit of both?” Emiko responded, also unsure herself.

“Hmm, wellll-” Seijun was cut off by a loud shout that gathered the attention of everyone in the rehearsal room.

“Oi, everyone listen up!” The voice of an older man bellowed throughout the room.

It was Director Ttio. He had a powerful voice for a man in his mid-sixties, but that’s the sort of thing you develop when dealing with rowdy actors and high-strung egos. In his late age, he’d already fully balded, so his original hair colour of brown could only be seen in his eyebrows and the thin moustache that rested upon his top lip.

He was surprisingly skinny for a man of his age, and quite tall compared to most of his peers who had already begun to shrink thanks to the long days and short years. His face was also permanently moulded into a harsh glare, only breaking when one of his many smiles came out. It almost seemed out of character, for a man that looked this annoyed by the world, to so often smile like a newlywed couple holding their first newborn together.

If Emiko were to describe her impression of it, she’d surely say that it was the smile of a proud teacher. The kind they’d have watching their favourite class of students finally graduate together. Except that for the teacher, every class was their favourite class, and for the students, the teacher would have always been their favourite every time.

“I want everyone to gather in small groups, pick your partners however you like em but keep it under 4 people. Once you’ve done that you’re to familiarise yourself with your roles. It doesn’t matter if you’re all playing roles that don’t have lines together, just practise, watch, and start to get things down in your heads. Ok? Good! Now get to it.” He announced to the room, resulting in a mass of movement as everyone began to gather with those they were most familiar with.

Senjin turned to Emiko and asked, “So, who should be our third? We’re working together, right?”

She let out a sigh that made it obvious he’d asked a silly question, “Yes, Senjin. We’re working together.”

“Right, good. That’s what I like to hear.” He confirmed in a jokey manner, trying to make light of his earlier uncertainty. “Sooo… our third?” He asked again.

Emiko was about to go down her list of suggestions when she was interrupted. They were so stuck in conversation that they didn’t notice someone walk right up to them, and the sudden voice caused them to look over in confusion.

“Hello.” The interloper bluntly greeted, prompting total blanket looks of shock and awe to cover their faces.

“Emm, hello?” Seijun offered back.

“Hi?” Emiko returned dumbstruck.

The interloper introduced herself with a slight bow of respect, “Seina Kanemoto. Would you like to work together?”

“We know.” Seijun answered without thinking, causing Emiko to throw him a bewildered glance. “Right, sorry.” He corrected, “I mean we recognise you from when the director introduced you.”

“Yes, I noticed.” Seina replied in total neutrality, clearly eluding that she’d spotted them watching her earlier.

The pair looked at each other in awkwardness, embarrassed at being caught watching her.

Seijun coughed to clear his throat, attempting to dispel the atmosphere that they had created themselves, “Well- I’m Seijun, it's a pleasure to be working with you Seina.”

His merry greeting had no effect on Seina, who simply regarded him with a nod and an emotionless hum of affirmation.

“And I’m Emiko,” She added on before quickly following up with, “Oh we’re also co-workers, Hatsuko is my manager too! So, emmm let's try to get along!” Emiko finished with the most hollow enthusiastic cheer possible.

“Sure.” Seina responded in her trademark monotone voice that really didn’t do any favours for Emiko’s nerves. “What roles are you two playing?” She continued skipping over the small talk.

It was rare for the pair of actors to have a unifying thought between them. But at this moment, that’s exactly what happened. The clothes, the attitude, the appearance. It all added up to create a certain, near unexplainable view of the girl before them.

Perhaps it was some strange version of hindsight, or maybe some twisted cosmic revelation, or possibly another anomaly of an event.

Yet they’d both agree, now and in the future. That the woman that stood before them was an actor.

“My role is B0-7 from the final act, the robot doctor. And Emiko here is playing Yuki, the childhood best friend of Jinko, one of the two leads. Since my role is a little sparse in lines, I’ll mainly just be helping you guys out.” Seijun replied, trying to make himself as helpful as he could be.

It was Emiko's turn to speak next, “And you’ll be playing Eighty-Three, right Miss Kanemoto?”

“Please call me Seina, both of you.” She cut in abruptly, not letting Emiko finish the rest of her sentence.

“Ah, ok. Sorry… you’ll be playing Eighty-Three… Seina?” Emiko corrected her stomach a bundle of anxious nerves at using someone's first name instantly.

“Yes.” She confirmed.

She lied.

Lied. Lied. Lied. Lied. Lied. Lied.

She would not be playing Eighty-Three.

She would be playing Seina Kanemoto.

But then again, is it really a lie?

After all, a perfect person cannot lie.

And what else would Seina be if not perfect?