“Fishing again?” A woman called out. Her appearance placed her in her late thirties, though on a bad day, someone might mistake her for being in her early forties. She was slender and far taller than other women of her age; and her eyes held a fire within them, pairing naturally with the mellow red that was her hair.

The man she called out to stirred but soon settled as he recognized the voice. He was a lean man with a bucket hat covering his bald head. Old was a word that could easily describe him, his skinny face and thin brown moustache further adding to that.

He lifted his arms, pulling back the fishing rod in his shaky hands and cast it into the small river ahead of him before lowering his frail back to rest on his chair once more.

It was a damp Sunday midafternoon, neither of them knew the exact time, it had escaped them during this busy day, but it had little relevance at this moment.

“It helps me destress.” The old man replied, his voice steady, rough, and disciplined, yet it wasn’t unkind.

And as if sensing this, an orange cat seemed to appear from nowhere, sneaking out of the nearby brush and approaching the man with little caution a stray might otherwise have.

The river before the two was small; it was his usual spot, and yet the man couldn’t remember its name. That was nothing unusual. Tokyo was home to around one hundred rivers of varying sizes that both slipped through neighbourhoods and dissected entire wards in two; however, that number fluctuated every so often as smaller rivers were filled in and hidden under the tarmac of roads, and the more tenacious of them reappeared whenever the weather turned.

He chose this spot because of its proximity to Hanako Hall, only a quick ten-minute walk that ends in a path through some greenery, down a tight concrete staircase topped with overhead branches and out onto a serene pier rarely visited by none other than himself.

“Have you caught anything yet?” She asked, her voice veering close to uninterested, but there was still a slither of curiosity there. The rivers that slipped in between Tokyo’s streets weren’t the most lustrous of places; sparse gatherings of fish were unlikely on the luckiest of days, so she doubted whether he had caught a thing.

“I have.” Came his reply, neutral, simple, spoken as a peer to another peer. No need to wonder what her next words would be; he was familiar enough with her that he knew this script by heart, “A horse mackerel.” He clarified.

He nudged the bag below his seat to highlight the horse mackerel’s location, but the orange cat took this as a sign to headbutt the man’s foot, viewing the small movement of the boot as an excellent place to rub their cheek up against.

“Are you happy with the catch?” She continued her unfamiliarity with fishing on full display. The man thought little of it, but he found the question funny in its own sort of way. This was not the first time they had met up here, it was never planned, but she knew he came here to ponder whatever problems remained unsettled within his head.

So this script was well rehearsed, all that the two had said, had been said before, this was merely the introduction, the Act 1 to this conversation that served as the prelude to the items that they truly wanted to discuss. Which is why he found it funny, he had only ever caught horse mackerel, and even when these questions and answers should have been remembered down to the letter, she still forgot them; though it would probably be more accurate to say she discarded them.

“I am.” He stated, and then as she did not follow up with another question, he decided to speak a little more, “It is a small fish, good for eating if smoked. And Hatsuko, though its name suggests otherwise, it is not a mackerel. I always found that quite funny.”

These words and sentences spoken were merely her build-up. She would forget them all in time. This polite joust of phrases was a shield to her worries. Even if small, she needed this collected time to compose herself, to think through the issues she would raise today, ever reflecting on if her actions brought her closer to her dream, or pushed her further away, for this all only had one goal.

Reputation; To mean something in this loud world.

“The play…” Hatsuko began as Ttio raised an eyebrow and leaned his head back against the chair, his stare still overlooking this small river of glistening water, “How is it going?”

A silly question. They both thought the same, but Hatsuko did not know how else to word it. She wanted his opinion on the actors, how they were performing, if they would be able to showcase something truly amazing, and if they could bring this world that should only reside in the pages of a book or the rolling screen of a movie out into this reality separate from a stage.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“Kenji is inspired by his role. It matches him well.” Director Ttio began, his hand reaching down to find the head of that little orange cat, “He’s a father, but his daughter lives with his ex-wife. They don’t see each other as often as he would like. It’s cruel, but that longing is what allows him to relate to Dr. Akamine. It’s why his performance is better than it has been. He understands his character.”

However, above all of that, there was one piece of information she wanted the most. It was the question with the greatest importance, that one concern that was clutched ever-so-closely to the core of her being.

“Seijun is about what I expected.” He sailed further down this evaluating thought as it shook from port to starboard like a ship in a storm, his peripheral remained calm as his focus narrowed in on those atop the deck, “His role is minor for a reason, he has not decided whether this will be his profession. The choice scares him; it harms his performance, but the play does not rely on him. I do not think he will decide his future before the opening day, but I hope he does it soon. It is not a good thing to approach adulthood with no destination to guide you.”

Has the gamble paid off? The lies and deceit, the backroom deals and trades of talent that only the two of them know of. This trust in ability that has rippled below the surface, the knowledge that the other’s intuition rarely fails, and thus the risk taken is barely a risk at all.

“Miss Esumi is flawless as always.” Director Ttio confirmed, his praises fervent yet calmly glossed over by Hatsuko, “She came to me the other day, our conversation was short, but she sounded more at ease. I later found out that she had performed a scene with her co-lead that day.”

“Seina?” Hatsuko jumped in, partially cutting him off, but neither of them paid it any bother.

“Yes, it was Seina. Miss Esumi must have been satisfied with her acting to be so… tranquil.” He relayed before stopping his tongue and taking a moment to think his next words through, “She’s hid it well, but Miss Esumi has been nervous since rehearsals began. I believe it is a fear of failure, more than someone would usually have in her position, though I am not sure why.”

Nevertheless, barely a risk is still a risk. And for Hatsuko to place Seina atop that stage is to hinge the entire play of Us of I on a single question.

“Emiko is in a similar state to Seijun.” He moved to discuss the next actor with a cogent precision of mind, “She is so focused on acting that she cannot see any other path. Her performance as Yuki is nothing special, it will not hold the play back, but her management has been essential. Without her, we would all be worse off.”

“Have you asked Emiko the question yet?” Hatsuko chimed in, a thoughtful glint in her eyes as she spoke, however Ttio appeared stone faced as he listened.

“I have not.”

“Why not? I transferred all the paperwork over. It's just a matter of getting her signature.”

“It is not so simple. She is set in her ways. Acting has been her dream since she was a child. If I choose the wrong time, she may dig her heels in and refuse any offer.” Director Ttio concluded. His answer managed to somewhat satisfy Hatsuko’s inquisitiveness, though that was more on the part of her not caring too much in the first place.

After all, her care is fixated in its abundance on that single question. It’s the question that this gamble was placed on, the one that decides the fate of this play, and the one that her goal depends on…

Is Seina an actress?

“Is that so…” Hatsuko’s voice came out with total neutrality, but the brief look of doubt could not be understated. “And what about Seina?”

“Seina…” Ttio began, his hand now rubbing the side of the orange cat’s cheek, eliciting a loud purr from it as it collapsed to the ground and rolled onto its back in glee, “She’s had issues. Emotions were her biggest at first, then it was staying in character, she disregards the script as it suits her. Her face can be too rigid at times, she seems absentminded when on stage, and she makes too many amateurish mistakes-”

“Ttio, be blunt with me.” She cut him off, her eyes were laced with a hint of annoyance, but it mixed in with her nervousness, that ever-expanding feeling that she had chosen wrong.

Or just another waste of time.

The cat startled and jumped back up on its feet, its head whipped around towards Hatsuko, and as it did, it seemed to notice the one horse mackerel sitting in the bag beside Ttio’s feet. It made its decision in an instant, if it had to run, it would not leave empty-handed.

Its head dipped into the bag, its mouth picked up the comparatively large horse mackerel, and it quickly began to trot away. The thickness of the fish caused its cheeks to be pushed upwards, making them appear chubby and transforming the slim orange cat from a sleek and nimble-looking cat to an empty-headed goofball of a feline spouting a merry smile.

Ttio gave the cat no thought as it left his view. He never took the fishes home anyway, the strays had far more use for them than he ever could. Instead, he coughed into his hand, and his eyes moved as if he was sighing out the word fine before he answered as Hatsuko requested, “If I had to describe her with one word, I would say she’s rather…”

Entertaining.

The gamble had been won.