Chapter 4.

I head to the auditorium for the theater club’s weekly meeting, with Tsuneo on my heels like a nervous puppy. His big eyes look at me with a mix of excitement and anxiety while his hands twist the hem of his shirt over and over again.

“Don’t be so tense, you’ll do fine. The club is very welcoming to newcomers,” I say in a reassuring tone.

Tsuneo nods, swallowing hard. I can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he follows me into the auditorium.

The space is lit by the last orange rays of the setting sun filtering through the windows. The old crimson curtain gently waves with the breeze, giving the stage a mystical air. A scent of varnished wood, dusty books, and waxed floors fills the atmosphere.

I see that most of the club members are already here. I recognize Sato and Himari, a pair of third-year students who have been in the club since its inception. They chat animatedly while arranging and sweeping the stage, preparing it for our practice.

Sato is tall and sturdy, with an athletic build. His jet-black hair is neatly combed back, framing his piercing gray eyes that contrast with his tanned complexion. Himari is petite and delicate, with long lilac hair and fine features that give her an ethereal look. Both wear the school uniform, but Sato has taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms as he lifts heavy prop boxes.

At the other end of the auditorium, I spot the restless Kazuo and Mirai. They’re a pair of noisy first-years who joined the club this semester. Kazuo is short and chubby, with cheerful hazel eyes and messy brown hair. Mirai is slender and “graceful,” with long jet-black hair tied in two ponytails that bounce joyfully as she chases after Kazuo.

Their laughter echoes among the empty seats as he tries to petrify her with his magical blessing and she responds by throwing electric sparks from her hands. Their powers are still unskilled, but show great potential.

“Guys, be careful! We don’t want the principal to cancel us for damages again,” I call them to order before the sparks set the curtain on fire.

They stop immediately and look at me sheepishly. With a gesture, I indicate for them to help Sato and Himari with the scenery. They obey diligently and hurry to pick up some of the mess they have caused.

In all the commotion, I barely notice the petite figure who approaches timidly down the side aisle. It’s Emi, the quiet second-year member who specializes in visual effects. Her thick black-framed glasses hide her extraordinary violet eyes, contrasting with her sleek, jet-black hair tied in a low ponytail.

“Hi Makoto, I have the scripts and storyboards you asked for,” she says with her soft voice, holding out a stack of scribbled papers.

“Excellent, thank you Emi! I knew I could count on you,” I give her another one of my beaming smiles, the kind that never fails to make the recipient blush.

Emi looks down, blushing. She mumbles a “you’re welcome” and quickly scurries away to help the others.

Meanwhile, Tsuneo watches everything with wide eyes at my side, trying to absorb every little detail. I beckon him over and introduce him formally.

“Guys, this is the new member I told you about. Tsuneo, these are Sato, Himari, Kazuo, Mirai, and Emi,” I point to each as I say their names. “Welcome to the family.”

Tsuneo blinks, clearly overwhelmed by the avalanche of new names and faces. But as I predicted, they welcome him with great enthusiasm. Sato shakes his hand vigorously, nearly crushing it. Himari gives him a warm smile and whispers a “we hope you feel comfortable with us.” Even the rowdy Kazuo and Mirai interrupt their mischief to greet him effusively, patting him on the back so hard he nearly falls over. Even the reclusive Emi makes an effort to look him in the eyes and welcome him.

Tsuneo seems overwhelmed but excited by the warm reception. Exactly the effect I wanted to create by bringing him. To make him feel part of something, to have a sense of belonging to this group... with me.

We start reading and rehearsing some scenes from the new play we’re preparing for the school festival. It’s a cheesy and predictable romantic drama, but very popular with the student audience.

I read my part perfectly, injecting just the right dose of passion and dramatic intensity. The rest of the cast follows me awkwardly, especially the newcomers. But I know that under my expert direction, I will polish them into shining actors. That’s my gift.

While we act, I distribute discreet looks and gestures to direct each one, like an experienced orchestra conductor. I know the abilities and weaknesses of each member and assign roles accordingly.

Of course, I reserve the lead role for myself. No one else could do justice to such a complex and intense character. Tsuneo, on the other hand, will play a simple supporting role. He’s still too inexperienced and insecure for a major part. He’ll be the typical loyal and reliable friend of the protagonist, easily disposable.

After a couple of hours of monotonous script readings and rather mediocre initial rehearsals, we stop to take a short break. Tsuneo has quickly hit it off with the energetic Kazuo and Mirai, who have adopted him as a pet. In a way, that’s what he is, a small and pathetic pet. An anxious dog eager to please his master.

Stolen story; please report.

While they’re distracted, I take the opportunity to slip away stealthily among the dusty shelves backstage, looking for a moment of peace away from their prying eyes. Here among the shadows, surrounded by old sets and forgotten props, I can take a deep breath and momentarily let down the mask of kindness.

I massage my face, tired from the effort of maintaining appearances all day. But my relief is short-lived, interrupted by the creaking of the door and soft footsteps approaching. I quickly recompose my neutral expression just before Himari peeks her face out of the darkness, looking at me with her big violet eyes filled with innocent concern.

“Here you are... we were looking for you,” she whispers, nervously playing with a strand of her characteristic lilac hair. “Is everything okay, Makoto?”

I nod naturally, flashing one of my captivating smiles as we step back into the stage light.

“Yeah, I just needed a moment alone to focus on the character. You know how perfectionist I am with acting,” I explain with a conspiratorial wink.

She blushes and giggles foolishly, pleased with our little “secret”. She’s so predictable. Since she joined the club last year, Himari has shown a clear crush on me. A minor distraction, but potentially useful if manipulated correctly.

We return just as Tsuneo is recounting some ridiculous childhood anecdote, making the others laugh uproariously with his exaggerated gestures and voices. I watch him laugh softly, giving him false pats on the back for integrating so well with the naive club members.

He gives me a beaming smile. The pawn celebrates the little victories that I, the king, benevolently allow him. We continue rehearsing and joking until dusk. Finally, it’s time to wrap up. I give some final instructions about the next practice before declaring the session over. Tsuneo approaches me timidly while the others pack their things.

“Makoto, thank you so much for letting me be here. It’s been an incredible experience,” he says, his eyes shining with admiration.

I give him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and the poor boy seems about to burst with happiness from that small gesture of approval.

“I’m glad you’re having fun. You have a lot of potential; with the right practice, you’ll be an excellent actor,” I encourage him.

He blushes intensely at my words of encouragement.

“I promise to give it my all!” he exclaims, bowing deeply.

Inside, I feel a slight weariness at his childish enthusiasm. But I don’t let that sentiment reach my eyes. To Tsuneo and the rest, I am still simply the student council president and theater club leader: charismatic, talented, and always willing to guide our dear members.

Finally, we say our goodbyes. Tsuneo leaves chatting animatedly with his new friends. I stay until the end, helping Himari to put away the costumes. She hums a tune as she folds the fabrics.

“Tsuneo is very nice, it was a good decision to recruit him,” she comments absentmindedly. “I think he likes Mirai; they spent the whole rehearsal talking and laughing.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s good to see him integrate so quickly,” I respond naturally.

In reality, that could be a problem. If Tsuneo starts a relationship, his loyalty and focus will shift from our bond. That’s unacceptable. I must find a way to keep him socially and emotionally isolated, dependent only on me and my teachings.

I was astute enough to allow his self-esteem and confidence to grow momentarily, to earn more easily his admiration and attachment as a benevolent mentor. But I cannot let that sense of self-worth take root too deep in him. He must not become too secure and independent, must not believe he has a bright future without my constant guidance and supervision. He’s just learning to crawl; I can’t let him think he can run on his own.

I start to meticulously plot a plan to sabotage any potential romantic approach between Tsuneo and Mirai. I will spread harmful rumors about Mirai, whisper venomous comments about how fickle she is in love. I’ll plant small doubts in Tsuneo’s mind about whether he can really trust her.

I’ll be as insidious as a serpent whispering in his ear, slowly poisoning his perception. Just enough to cool any romantic illusions before they ignite. Tsuneo is too naive and malleable still, fresh clay to be shaped according to my designs.

With the right manipulation, I can subtly twist his thoughts and behavior as I wish. I just need to wisely dose carrots and sticks. Give him glimpses of acceptance and validation, make him feel special and appreciated. Then suddenly deny them, reminding him how inadequate and inferior he really is.

I’ll be like a capricious god, granting and withholding my favors as it suits me to keep him on his knees. Poor Tsuneo will be like an addict, desperately craving his next dose of my attention. Thus, he will value every crumb of approval from me as the sweetest of nectars. He’ll need me more than the air to breathe.

“You have a gift for seeing potential in people,” says Himari, looking at me entranced. “You’re amazing, Makoto.”

I return an intense look that makes her hold her breath. I slowly move closer, touching a purple lock of her bangs.

“You have a lot of potential too, Himari... you could achieve great things if you set your mind to it,” I whisper seductively.

She melts at my words, confirming her utility as a manipulable pawn. Pretending romantic interest is distasteful, but sometimes necessary.

After a few more flattering words, I say goodbye, claiming tiredness, and quickly leave before she tries to follow me. I walk toward the dorms still with the mask of kindness in place, when I notice footsteps following me. I turn around to find Fumiko leaning provocatively against the wall, watching me eagerly.

“Great rehearsal today, Mr. Director,” she purrs, in a pathetic attempt to be seductive.

I contain my instinctive gesture of repulsion and force a tense smile.

“Fumiko, what a surprise. I thought you had already gone home,” I say as calmly as I can.

She playfully toys with her hair, looking at me with hungry puppy eyes.

“I decided to wait for you so you wouldn’t have to walk back to the dorms alone. A boy as handsome as you shouldn’t walk without company,” she declares, approaching closer.

I clench my fist hard before relaxing it, taking deep breaths to calm myself. Fumiko’s ridiculous obstinacy is starting to become problematic. I have to find a way to get this leech off me.

“You’re very thoughtful, but I wouldn’t want to delay you. Surely you have assignments or plans with your friends,” I reply politely.

My subtle rejection doesn’t seem to have an effect. Fumiko peels herself off the wall and approaches, swaying her hips.

“Nothing that can’t wait. Come on, I’ll walk you,” she says, confidently taking my arm.

I contain my exasperation and let her accompany me, to avoid any undesirable scenes from her. But I have to think of a permanent solution to this issue as soon as possible. This whimsical girl is turning into a real headache.

We walk together in silence as Fumiko clings to my arm like an octopus, humming an annoying pop song. I contain my annoyance as best as I can until we reach the dormitories.

“Well, here’s where I say goodnight. Sleep well, Fumiko,” I say, gently pulling away from her grip.

She pouts in disappointment but doesn’t persist.

“Alright, have a good night, Makoto. See you!” she says, winking flirtatiously before turning around.

I watch her silhouette sway exaggeratedly as she walks away. No doubt she’s attractive to any hormonal teenager. But her obsession with me is starting to cloud her judgment. I must act quickly before she becomes a real nuisance.