This was the sixth time they were running through the scene, and Aqua was finally getting sick of it.

  Suppressing his irritation, he once again took on the smug, playful facade he’d been using for the previous run-throughs. Aqua relaxed on a chair and let a smirk take shape over his lips.

  Cobalt was pacing behind him. “I don’t think we can trust her,” he said with an incorrect amount of uncertainty. According to the script, Cobalt’s character was supposed to be more assertive and confident. It was Cobalt’s actual uncertainty on whether he was doing an adequate job or not leaking heavily into his performance. The repetitiveness was getting to him, too.

  “We trust no one,” Aqua reminded him with a sliver of condescension. “That’s a given.”

  “You know what I mean!” Now Cobalt was just yelling, being as loud as he can be. He had done a better job earlier in simply projecting his voice. Then he added, “Pretty ladies are the devil’s sharpest tools,” more as an afterthought instead of recounting a bitter grudge.

  “They’re double-edged blades, brother. Useful for the devil, but also for our pact’s own agenda if we get Epsilon aligned with us.”

  They were holding this audition in one of the rehearsal spaces in Strawberry Production’s office building. There hadn’t been time while on-set for Signal Lost in the Heavens to do it, so Ai had rescheduled for her, Aqua, Cobalt, Director Gotanda, and Yura Katayose to reconvene here. Ruby was also present, given the honorary job of reading out the lines for Katayose’s character. All credit to Ruby, at least she delivered her lines with consistency.

  “I didn’t come here to hurt any of you,” Ruby enunciated with sympathy. She should really think about doing more real acting gigs on the side. She had natural talent and would do well in mentoring Cobalt in live-action acting once she received more hands-on experience for herself. Aqua barely had the time to give much feedback for Cobalt’s voice work in Elemental Orel.

  Cobalt stopped pacing and stood directly behind Aqua. “We should… uh…” The sound of fluttering pages filled Aqua’s ear as Cobalt searched for the right part of the script. “We should just kill her! We’ll be much safer if we do that!”

  An audience could arguably find humor in Cobalt speaking about dark topics in an such a positive tone. Aqua can give his brother that. “You’re bloodthirsty today, Delta!” Aqua noted with intrigue. “Where was that energy when we were crawling through the muck in the countryside?”

  “I’m not bloodthirsty. I’m being practical. Enemies need to be eliminated.”

  Oof, he was way too flat and robotic with this line. Across the room behind a foldable table, Ruby and Katayose winced. Ai and Gotanda were more stoic, the former fixed in her normal smile and the latter wordlessly observing. “Epsilon is now also an enemy of the state,” Aqua reminded his counterpart. “Enemy of my enemy, and so on and so forth.”

  “Zeta, for all we know, she could be a double agent! The pact won’t be happy if we bring her back with us!”

  “Uh, boys,” Ruby cut in, “can I say something in my defense?”

  “No!”

  “Now, now, Delta,” Aqua pacified. “Let’s hear her out, listen to her elevator pitch on how we can trust her.” Still seated, Aqua bowed forward. “Go on, Epsilon. Sell us something good.”

  “... What proof do you want to see?”

  The three of them carried on with the dialogue. Cobalt got in some good reads, even hitting a nice back-and-forth of Delta being overly critical and dismissive of Epsilon’s alleged skills and veteran knowledge of her craft. Aqua as Zeta remained the mediator, throwing in his own jokes to lighten the hostile mood.

  However, Cobalt started losing steam fast, just as he did in the earlier takes. Though the camera and tripod set up nearby wasn’t recording anything, Cobalt was still too self-conscious about it. Every time he tried to discreetly look down at his feet to make sure his erratic motions as Delta wasn’t blocked by Aqua or moved himself out of frame, Cobalt had to take a split-second to remember to say his line. If this were a real film set instead of an audition, the timing of verbal exchanges could likely be fixed during editing, but Aqua could see Ruby feeling the unnatural pacing of lingering mid-sentence pauses, running through her own lines quickly simply so Cobalt could reply back before losing himself again.

  Even Katayose was barely holding back her disappointment. She was still composing herself near Ai. The wide-brimmed hat, the glare in her glasses, and her stylized long hair helped hide Katayose’s face from Ai right next to her. Yet Cobalt could see her clearly, always glancing in her direction throughout these rehearsal runs. He’d grown to like Katayose a lot, certainly the closest person he’s gotten to out of any of Aqua’s or Ai’s co-stars who had the pleasure of speaking with Cobalt. Her crestfallen gaze must also be having a poor effect on him.

  Cobalt’s best takes today were passable for a school play, the same kind he was pulled into by Ruby every now and then. Ever since the third run, the quality was in steady decline.

  Whatever the miracle which had blessed Cobalt to successfully take Aqua’s place as the Sarcastic Child, it clearly wasn’t reproducible for other roles.

  “Well,” Aqua said as their scene came to an end, “do you feel convinced of our fair lady’s word, brother?”

  “For now, I am.”

  Aqua wore a smile that was more tired than teasing. “But don’t you remember our maxim?”

  “Trust no one,” Cobalt repeated. “We’ll do what you say, bring Epsilon in, and she’ll learn in time, I’m sure.”

  A beat passed after Cobalt finished his last line.

  Cobalt stepped forward and bashfully bowed. “Gosh, I’m sorry everyone. I guess I’m really not that good of an actor to do it right a second time.”

  Ruby and Ai were on him in seconds, hugging Cobalt and assuring him that he had done his best. He remained shy and unconvinced. Aqua sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

  Game of Solidarity was a movie script with a more upbeat tone than Signal Lost in the Heavens. Twin boys codenamed Delta (Cobalt) and Zeta (Aqua) were super spy prodigies on the run from the government as members of a larger fugitive group of other ex-spies who had tried to change the system for the better. Katayose’s character, Epsilon, was the female lead and the latest agent to be burned. She was to help expose the government conspiracy and secure full pardons for the wrongly hunted renegades. Dark themes were implied with the morally questionable deeds undertaken by the spies and the corrupt government, but there was nothing as graphic as alien mutilation as in Signal Lost. Game of Solidarity was about family-friendly action intercut with comedic moments; snippets of dark humor overshadowed by the majority of the film being appropriately light.

  The writing was actually not too outside the scope of Elemental Orel’s usual tone. It was only a little more serious than Cobalt’s slice-of-life skits, so after Aqua had read through the scene for this audition, his hopes for Cobalt doing well had actually gone up.

  Zeta was a fairly smooth fit for Aqua, carrying a calm aura with an conceited edge. Delta’s paranoia and cynicism was vaguely similar to the Sarcastic Child, but his emotionally-charged actions drawn from past traumas was something much more viable Cobalt could have poured his own lively behavior into. A compelling chemistry between him, Aqua, and even Ruby as these characters was possible.

  Yet in spite of all the suggestions everyone in the room had given Cobalt after each take, he was unable to capture his audience as he had done so for Signal Lost.

  Cobalt was Ai’s son, but he wasn’t a prodigy. His natural ability to pull people in, inherited from Ai, still needed to be nurtured accordingly. He wasn’t ready to meet the high expectations of esteemed, real thespians like Yura Katayose, let alone the directors and casting agents who will be far more demanding than their current hosts today.

  “Are we done yet?” Aqua asked aloud, checking his phone. “Shin’s going to start his stream within the hour, and I’m sure Katayose would like to spend the rest of her day off doing something more produ–”

  “Aquamarine,” Ai scolded sternly, sending a chill down his spine. It was a long while since she had last used this tone of voice or his full first name against her blunt, arrogant son. “You’re being very rude and presumptuous. Show some respect for Cobalt’s efforts and Yura’s choice to be here with us today.”

  “It’s alright, Ai-senpai,” Katayose tried to placate. “I underestimated how long today’s session would be. I wouldn’t want Clayman’s biggest fan to miss out on one of his streams!”

  Cobalt bowed again at Katayose. “I’m sorry, Miss Yura. Aqua’s a good actor, so he could do a good Delta or Zeta, or even a good Epsilon if she was a boy, but I can’t.”

  “Of course you can, Cobie!” Ruby insisted. “You just need more time memorizing your lines. You played the Sarcastic Child great by being him, without paying attention to the cameras or the crew. Just do that again!”

  “But mom can be other people when she acts, too, and at the same time, she always shows her best side to the camera.”

  Ai was still glaring at Aqua. The child that he was, Aqua shuffled in discomfort. Her gaze still stuck on Aqua, Ai’s next words were directed at his brother. “Cobie, I’m an amazing actress. You’re going to become an amazing actor if you put in the work, but you don’t have to be exactly like me, or Aqua for that matter.”

  “But being like Aqua was what I did the first time.”

  Ruby groaned in annoyance. “Forget about Aqua! He doesn’t believe in you.”

  “I believe Cobalt has potential,” Aqua affirmed, not wanting anyone to misconstrue his poor attitude. “Potential doesn’t mean instantaneous perfection.”

  Director Gotanda finally spoke up. “Aqua’s right,” he said, standing up and once again securing Cobalt’s complete attention by placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “I believe my point about this role being unsuited for Cobalt has been proven. Despite that, you don’t want to end this audition on a sour note. Do you, Cobalt?”

  “No,” Cobalt answered honestly. “I don’t know how to do better, though. Can you give me some more direction, Director Gotanda?”

  “That I can.” Gotanda whispered in Cobalt’s ear.

  As Gotanda reeled back and let him go, Cobalt’s countenance shifted from regret to introspection.

  “What did you tell him?” Ruby fished for details, but Gotanda returned to his spot behind the table and clapped his hands without answering.

  “Seventh time’s the charm. One more take, and then I’ll explain more clearly why Cobalt wasn’t at his best all day.”

  Ai held Ruby back from complaining. “Alright, Director. I expect a good explanation to justify putting Cobalt through so much pressure.” A threatening tone was weaved underneath a false civility. Never would a fan of Ai the Idol have expected to see and hear such an attitude from her. Then again, few fans would have imagined their idol to become a fiercely protective mother to her children.

  Whatever Cobalt was told by Gotanda, the aftereffects came quickly, Cobalt flipping between one of his notebooks and the movie script. He’d done the same when preparing with Ruby for the Sarcastic Child, and the intentful focus Cobalt displayed now matched what he’d looked like back then, too.

  As Cobalt took his position behind his brother, Aqua could even feel how his breathing changed.

  Once more, Aqua assumed the character of Zeta with a patronizing smile. Behind him, Cobalt did not pace back and forth. He firmly stood in one spot beside Aqua.

  “We can’t trust her,” Cobalt said. That wasn’t the right line, but Cobalt said it with conviction.

  “We trust no one. That’s a given.”

  “You know what I mean!” Defensive, Delta knowing he was caught in a moment of hypocrisy, but still stubbornly holding his ground. “Beautiful women are the devil’s sharpest weapons.”

  Another slight deviation from the script. Aqua decided not to give these slips too much attention. Those were the only issues in Cobalt’s performance so far. “They’re double-edged blades, brother. Useful for the devil, but also for our pact’s own agenda if we get Epsilon aligned with us.”

  Ruby gave her first line. “I didn’t come here to hurt any of you.”

  “We should kill her,” Delta said. “No one will find her body, and her handlers will never find us.” He spoke of murder like it was a mundane chore, not pleased to do it but willing to be done out of necessity. Aqua could definitely see someone chortle at the absurdity of a child saying such a line in this way. Others would be creeped out.

  “You’re bloodthirsty today, Delta! Where was that energy when we were crawling through the muck in the countryside?”

  “I’m not bloodthirsty. I’m being practical. Enemies of the pact must be eliminated.”

  Cobalt wasn’t robotic this time. He was straight-faced, pragmatic, stating a practical rule of life they must uphold. Personal preference and selfish desires had nothing to do with this decision. Or at least, that’s what Delta told himself.

  “She is now also an enemy of the state,” Aqua said once more. “Enemy of my enemy, and so on and so forth.”

  Then Delta flipped like a coin, now full of emotion as he leaned on Aqua, grabbed his arms, and shook his entire body. “But Ze-ta!” was Deta’s whining cry, faux tears slipping from his – wait, Cobalt was able to make himself fake-cry like this? “She could be a double agent! What will the pact say if we bring her back?! They’ll be so disappointed in us!”

  Ruby coughed. “Uh, boys, can I say something in my defense?”

  Delta releasing his hold on Aqua mid-shake nearly knocked the older brother out of his chair. While Aqua steadied himself, Delta stared at Ruby dead-on. Ruby met the stare with her own steadfast intensity.

  “Are you a double agent?” Delta asked.

  “I’m not.”

  “Prove it.”

  Aqua scrambled to get something out of his mouth to keep the scene going. “Yes, yes! In your own words, give us your elevator pitch on how we can trust you. I can’t guarantee I can hold my brother back from doing something uncouth if you dilly dally.”

  The dialogue continued in its seventh iteration, but now Aqua was decently immersed. Cobalt’s erratic behavior was entirely in-character now. Serious, but childish. Cold-hearted threats losing their muster with the immature reactions. Delta’s spiteful complaining to Zeta for his jabs at the little brother’s faulty arguments, then Delta’s empathy and insight to Epsilon's struggles.

  Since Cobalt was improvising lines, it was easy to recognize when he was talking total nonsense – body piercings did not intrinsically improve one’s standing as a good partner in a marriage (and Aqua made a mental note to check Cobalt’s internet history to find out where he had gotten that wild idea from) – but Delta believed what he was saying, so the momentum of the conversation was never lost. Ruby and Aqua were compelled to keep it going regardless of the Delta’s illogical attempts at relatability.

  Gotanda was a wall, imperceptible, but Ai and Katayose were all in, watching closely at Cobalt act his part without fail.

  What did Gotanda say to inspire such a performance out of Cobalt?

  Eventually, it was Aqua’s turn to say, “Well, do you feel convinced of our fair lady’s word, brother?”

  Delta crossed his arms, frowning at Ruby. “No, I’m not. But I trust you, so I’ll follow your lead.”

  “But don’t you remember our maxim?”

  Delta blushed – and Cobalt could force just enough heat into his face to portray a natural-looking embarrassed blush, too? – as he faced the floor. “You’re my brother, and I love you,” Delta said, going completely off-script but still staying true to his character. “Love trumps trust. I don’t think Epsilon understands that.” Delta raised his head and peered into Ruby’s – no, into Epsilon's soul. “I doubt you’ve ever loved something so much that you’d give them total faith and your unconditional love. Maybe if we bring you into the pact, you’ll learn how we’ve survived this long, and understand why we stay in this fight.”

  Another beat passed with those final words.

  Cobalt reverted back to Cobalt, and Ai and Ruby crowded him again, this time flooding him with congratulations.

  “DId I do a good job?”

  “Of course you did, Cobie!”

  “That was your absolutest best!”

  Aqua was hit by deja vu; the same shock he had felt when hearing Director Gotanda end Cobalt’s first scene in Signal Lost, and seeing the murderous Sarcastic Child melt away for innocent Cobie’s return.

  “You were amazing, Cobie,” Katayose said once Ai’s and Ruby’s hurrahs leveled out, her eyes transfixed on Cobalt. She’d been put under Cobalt’s spell again, just like the rest of them. “You really were. How did you approach this scene for this run? What did you do differently?”

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  Cobalt laughed. “It was really easy when the Director finally told me what I was doing wrong and what I should be doing to get it right!”

  “And those things would be?”

  “To stop pretending to be something I don’t know much about and to instead be something I do know plenty on.”

  Katayose copied Gotanda’s methodology and got close to Cobalt, hands slamming down on his shoulders. “Explain it to me like I’m stupid.”

  Aqua felt his hand twitch. Ruby’s instincts weren’t nearly as controlled, his little sister swiftly stepping in between Cobalt and Katayose. Katayose hadn’t even directly called Cobalt stupid, and Cobalt clearly wasn’t insulted, but the trigger developed from the heckles of Cobalt’s past bullies didn’t need a ton of pressure to set off.

  Before Ruby could bark back a misguided accusation at Katayose, Gotanda answered in Cobalt’s stead. “I told Cobalt to act like his sister, Ruby.”

  All eyes turned to the Director.

  “What?” Ruby muttered in confusion. Gotanda smirked as he pulled Cobalt out of Ruby’s grasp to present him to everyone. Cobalt gave a happy, unnecessary wave.

  “Cobalt knows how to act and emote well enough. Elemental Orel already proves that. However, Aqua was completely right about Cobalt not being well-suited for on-screen acting. There are still facets of being on a set, being recorded both visually and auditorily while wearing costumes and makeup, and working off of other actors that he just has too much inexperience with. You all saw how his line delivery and mannerisms were off today. Even assuming Cobalt was legitimately auditioning for a role based solely on being able to act as a character without regard to a camera or other actors, directors and producers would judge him as too awkward and inconsistent. The people already pegged to be working on Game of Solidarity would especially dismiss Cobalt outright.”

  “But that’s not true,” said Katayose. “Cobalt was in costume and makeup, and he was able to play the Sarcastic Child perfectly like Aqua.”

  Gotanda shook his head. “For that, I told him to be Aqua. He used everything he knew about acting in perfect sync with his own understanding of his brother. Any indecision holding Cobalt back was erased when all he had to do was act as something – as someone – he’s intimately familiar with.” Gotanda patted Cobalt on the back, getting him a grin and two-fingered V-sign in return. “Objectively, Cobalt knew he was playing the role and speaking the lines of the Sarcastic Child. Emotionally, he was singing one of his favorite songs with perfect pitch. He did the same thing for the seventh take today.”

  Oh.

  Well, Aqua was the one who felt stupid now.

  He’s heard countless times already over the course of Signal Lost’s filming about how the Sarcastic Child was just a more abrasive and reckless version of his real self. Cobalt had been among those parroting the sentiment. Thus, when Cobalt had been charged with acting as the Child, he hadn’t been thinking, “How would Aqua play this character?” He had asked himself, “How would Aqua behave in this situation?” Cobalt had still put on a persona, followed the beats of the script, and still used whatever acting and voice techniques he had picked up from doing Elemental Orel and watching his family act, but those thoughts were secondary to being in the moment and doing his family justice with his performance.

  It was the same today. Cobalt stopped trying to be like whatever Delta was supposed to be. He instead portrayed what he thought Ruby would do if she was put in the character’s position; how Ruby would act if she was stressed, paranoid, cold, or emotionally vulnerable.

  Katayose had difficulty grasping Gotanda’s explanation. “Does Cobalt try to act like Aqua often in his Elemental Orel videos? I can’t name a character who really resembles Aqua.”

  Cobalt hummed. “I do think about what Aqua would say or do, or how he would say or do things, and compare it with my scripts and my descriptions for my characters to see if I can channel a little Aqua in my voice recordings. I do that with everyone I know. Him, Ruby, mom, Clayman, grandpa–”

  Ruby stopped the rambling before it went too far. “Some of our Elemental Orel stories are based on real-life things we experienced,” she said, “but we switch up the details to spice things up creatively. And to not give too many real details about our personal lives through these stories. More people are actually catching on to Elemental Orel being Cobalt Hoshino after we started those behind-the-scenes vlogs, and fans of Aqua and Mama like to theorize on which characters represent them in each video…” Ruby trailed off as she tilted her head at Cobalt. “Wait, so to get into character today, Cobalt was… trying to act like me?”

  Gotanda nodded. “Yup. Unfortunately, this kind of acting for Cobalt has its drawbacks. Directors married to their scripts won’t take to his improvisation too well, regardless of it being in the name of staying in-character. Aqua and Ruby are also only two personality molds with their individual quirks in the sea of people out there. Cobalt can’t just fall on their archetypes all the time if he wants to broaden his horizons. Even in his voiced characters on Elemental Orel, you can tell it’s always Cobalt putting on a funny voice rather than him portraying a distinct character. We still have a lot of work ahead of us if we’re going to get him on TV or in movies in roles that are more than little cameos.”

  Aqua shrugged. “Why bother? Cobalt enjoys writing stories and the physical clay animations more than the acting itself. If he wants to do more acting anyway, he’s better off doing more voice work and harnessing that skill. Voice actors can get their share of fame and opportunities, too.”

  Suddenly, Aqua was ambushed by a despondent Cobalt quivering his lip. “Do you not think I can be a good actor like you or mom, Aqua?”

  “I didn’t say that –”

  “You totally are!” Ruby interrupted. “Haven’t you been paying attention? He can act. We just need to work on it!”

  “Aquamarine,” came the guttural growl from their mother.

  “I don’t want to get Cobalt’s expectations too high,” Aqua said quickly. Aqua had become a good actor only partly out of his own want to do good and be proud of his work. Ultimately, it was a means to an end that he had to fine-tune to achieve his goals as efficiently and painlessly as possible. Cobalt didn’t have that same drive. Maybe his was an obsession in its own right considering his constant pestering of Shin Hoshigami, but Cobalt still needed to keep his hopes at a restrained level, lest he be hit hard by the inevitable rejections as an actor.

  Gotanda sighed… in disappointment, moving a hand over his temple. “I thought you’d have caught on by now, precocious.”

  What?

  “I’m sure all of us are familiar with typecasting,” Gotanda went on, speaking to them all. “It happened to you, Ai. Everyone wanted to see you keep playing the cute, pure, incorruptible idol when you had both the want and the skill to build a more diverse acting resume. On the other hand, there are actors and actresses who seemingly only excel at playing particular types of characters; those who embrace those otherwise repetitive roles because, for better or worse, they’re just too good at it. Wisecrackers who elevate average comedic material with improv, harsh military or political leaders who command authority with their voice and poise, and muscle heads who have the body and the demeanor to win an audience over in brutal but fun action flicks. Some embrace being one-trick ponies, others do try to expand their repertoire with varying degrees of success.

  “Aqua, you’re still caging Cobalt in that corner of ‘only good at voice acting’ or ‘not disciplined enough to be on-camera.’ Granted, it’s natural for you to think that. I’ve already outlined Cobalt’s shortcomings, but going into a performance without any trust in your stage partner is also its own detriment.”

  Aqua raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He played his part as Zeta sufficiently.

  “Cobalt, do you want to be an actor?”

  “Like, all the time?” Cobalt’s previous low spirits were completely forgotten as he considered the question. “As a job? Hmm, I’m not sure. But I do want to keep trying! With just my voice or also on-camera. Maybe on the stage, too, like in plays. Mom and Ruby say my singing is getting better!”

  Gotanda snapped his fingers at Aqua. “Meanwhile, you don’t think he can do it. You aren’t encouraging him to try. You’re warning him not to.”

  The Director was saying Aqua didn’t trust Cobalt.

  And… Gotanda wasn’t wrong, Aqua realized.

  Aqua had been so busy with his personal and private endeavors that he had let slip his faith in Cobalt to accomplish his own dreams.

  It was only last year, sometime after their eleventh birthday, when Aqua had finally struck the correct password to get into one of Ai’s old smart phones. While her more current phones and Strawberry Productions’ records had already provided Aqua a list of names and numbers to cross-reference as potential identities for his father, this phone was the one Ai had used prior to becoming pregnant. There was a non-zero chance of further names hidden even from Ichigo and Miyako that Aqua couldn’t ignore, so he had secretly reclaimed the phone after it had been stored away and replaced.

  After a few years of guessing and failing to input the phone’s password, Aqua had considered again whether to simply ask Ai directly about their father. Again, he rejected the notion. He had seen her happy and content with the current state of affairs for their family, and happy she was to this day. Pulling her back into whatever dark memories or deceptive nostalgia she might have of her former lover would do the Hoshino family no good.

  Destroying the father was Aqua’s cross to bear. That man had caused Gorou Amamiya’s death. That man had nearly orchestrated Ai’s death, and Cobalt’s scar juxtaposed against his bright eyes and cheery smile was a constant reminder to all of them of what could have been lost forever. It was Aqua’s burden to ensure his family never suffered like that again, to disallow them to feel any true despair and pain that they had already suffered. To never feel the pain and dread of being so close to death as Gorou had. They deserved the flourishing, joyous life they were living now Even with complications like the Saitou divorce, it was up to Aqua to make sure the Hoshino family stayed the course and could still, at the end of the day, smile with few regrets.

  So, alone, Aqua had continued to press on his brute force attack on the phone password, in secret and never allowing Ai, his siblings, or the Saitous to ever catch on to his plan for vengeance. After gaining access to the phone’s contact list, he was able to quickly cross out a number of names he’d already eliminated from the pool of known suspects, but there were plenty more Aqua hadn’t gotten to yet, and more further Aqua had not yet met in his career as a child actor. More producers, musicians, and actors which Aqua still needed to get close to if he was to gather enough DNA to test their paternity over Aqua and his siblings.

  However, ensuring the secrecy of his ultimate goal and upholding his other daily responsibilities had taken up more and more of his time. There was only so much he could do in the day without falling into old unhealthy, workaholic habits. Caring, loving Ai did her best to make sure her children practiced balanced schedules of work and relaxation, but as a result of Aqua’s time management, he was spending less time teaching Cobalt and guiding him on how to live a safer life or improving his animation work.

  It was bound to happen at some point. Cobalt, Aqua, and Ruby were triplets, regardless of the dynamic of oldest/middle/youngest they fell into. Aqua couldn’t constantly hold Cobalt's hand. As a consequence, Ruby had become a closer confidant of Cobalt’s since taking a more involved role in Elemental Orel. The two of them were going to catch up to Aqua’s own level of maturity eventually.

  Yet in the back of his mind, throughout all of Aqua’s work, he had continued to picture Cobalt only at the level of “amateur.” There would always be room for growth, was what Aqua always conceded whenever he reviewed an Elemental Orel episode that did little to inspire or make him want to keep watching. But those were concessions, reluctant admissions striving to provide something complimentary. Aqua only gave token compliments for Cobalt’s efforts, nothing genuinely congratulatory for the improvements he made.

  Cobalt was a child had been the mantra Aqua had repeated in his head ever since he and Ruby confirmed Cobalt was not reincarnated, and that mantra had not yet ceased.

  He still was a child, for all practical purposes, but as Aqua was realizing now, that didn’t mean Aqua had to always talk down to him or be so dismissive of his efforts to better himself. A child wasn’t a baby.

  Cobalt could do anything. He had chosen his YouTube animation channel for the foreseeable future, and between that and his family in the entertainment business, it naturally led him to acting in general. Who was Aqua to inhibit his climb to success and self-improvement? To grow and become a superior performer than he was now?

  What kind of brother would Aqua be if he didn’t definitively commit to supporting Cobie? A few words of encouragement wasn’t hard to offer in the slightest. It would be a stain on Gorou’s already faded memory to be so inconsiderate of Ai’s son.

  “Don’t take my words the wrong way,” Gotanda continued, soon finishing his speech. “I do think Cobalt has the capacity to find success as a more versatile actor.”

  Gotanda turned his back to everyone and strolled over to a pile of papers and folders on the nearby table. “But! For now, with the experience and knowledge he does have, the only characters he could confidently and competently play in live-action are members of his family. He needs to do more work if he wants to get more legitimate roles and give genuine performances.

  “In fact…” Gotanda spun around, holding up in clear view a front page with a title that Aqua recognized from editing one of the Director’s documents last month, “I actually have another script for a short film that I believe Aqua and Cobalt could feasibly–”

  “What?!” That was an outcry from Katayose, her presentation as the cheeky and approachable actress finally breaking completely. “Was this whole thing just a play to get Cobie and Aqua primed to act in your own project?”

  The unfitting pout Gotanda wore was answer enough. “Game of Solidarity was never going to take them anyway.”

  Aqua moaned in annoyance to himself. So that was why Gotanda was being so critical of Aqua’s doubts about Cobalt yet also realistically honest on Cobalt’s faults. If Cobalt was to become a better actor, he needed more support from Aqua, and Gotanda had decided to carry out this entire exercise to make both brothers adequately motivated, personally invested in moving forward together.

  Well, Aqua wouldn’t hold it against Gotanda too much. Aqua used him to further his own goals; it was only natural for Gotanda to also find ways to guide Aqua and his family into positions to benefit his own ambitions.

  “They would take Cobie, Aqua, and Ruby because I would’ve vouched for them!” Katayose retorted. “They’re Ai Hoshino’s kids!”

  She continued grilling the Director. Ai and Ruby took her side. Ruby berated Gotanda for trying to solicit work from Cobalt through a roundabout scheme instead of just asking them directly to audition. Ai wasn’t pleased with Gotanda waiting until the seventh take to give Cobalt the direction he needed to give a good performance.

  They were all getting lost in their petty, selfish arguments.

  Aqua needed to make amends for his own close-minded behavior.

  “Hey,” Aqua quietly called out, “Cobalt.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry for making you think I didn’t believe in you. You did really good work when you stepped in for me for Signal Lost,” Aqua finally admitted out loud. “After today, I can definitely see how you can continue to get better if you keep practicing. I’m proud of you.”

  The stars in Cobie’s eyes expressed his gratitude without needing to say anything. He still did, of course. “Thanks, Aqua!”

  As everyone else bickered, Cobalt pulled out his phone and soon had it pressed against his ear.

  “Who are you calling?” Aqua asked.

  “Clayman!” Cobalt was oddly fixated on calling Shin by his YouTube handle all the time. It must be the fanboy in him. Aqua still mentally referred to their mother as Ai, after all. “I need to tell him you said you were proud of me!”

  “… Why?”

  “He sometimes says you’re a stuck-up show-off.” It sounded as if Shin was getting to be more like his father by the day. “But there’s nothing stuck-up or showy about you telling me you’re proud of me! Clayman tells me all about how he's proud of me for gaining more subscribers and views faster than when he started, so he needs to know how you’re in the same boat, except for when you’re complimenting my acting!”

  “… I’m happy you two get along so well,” Aqua decided to say. “I’m sure he'll admire your growing acting ability, as well.”

  “Oh, I hope so!”

  Tonight was the last time Yura would have the chance to personally speak with A-senpai before they’ll have to schedule time outside of work if they wanted to talk again in-person.

  Filming for Signal Lost in the Heavens was finally done, so the cast and crew were holding the wrap party. They were at a high-quality spacious restaurant reserved completely for them as an apology from the producers for the film’s hectic schedule and production delays. Sitting at the bar, Yura rejected an alcoholic glass and went with the soda. She wasn’t a big drinker, and she wanted to be sober for her last work-obligated conversation with Ai.

  Yura looked across the room. Tachibana was in the corner with one of the producers, speaking lowly so that another behind-the-scenes spat didn’t ruin everyone else’s good mood. Murakami was talking up one of the camera operators and downing shots with her. Director Gotanda was gorging on a full plate of food. He looked away when his and Yura’s eyes happened to cross each other. They were mutually keeping their distance after their last argument. She still respected his work and leadership skills, but hijacking her attempt to get more work with Cobie, Aqua, and Ai so they could instead do a job for him still stung.

  Ai’s kids weren’t here, already home at this late hour. At the moment, Ai-senpai was going through the motions of trading small talk and in-jokes with crewmembers, thanking them for all their hard work and being incredibly patient with her rowdy kids. She left behind bundles of excitable, blushing fans in her wake as she slid from clique to clique, person to person.

  Eventually, Ai completed her rounds and took the spot next to Yura at the bar. The bartender gifted her an orange soda with a wink. Apparently the Hoshinos had eaten at this establishment before, so this soda must be another in-joke, probably related to Cobalt’s favorite drink. Yura had really lucked out in striking up a friendship with Ai’s youngest.

  “I really enjoyed our time working together, Ai-senpai,” Yura said, pouring as much appreciation from every fiber of her being into her words.

  Ai-senpai rewarded her with an easygoing grin. “Likewise. Never let anyone tell you that you don’t have a heart of gold, Yura, and real talent to really make it big as an actress.”

  “Thank you, senpai.” Damn, Yura was blushing more strongly than she wanted. She was honestly embarrassed now, showing her more vulnerable side to Ai-senpai again. “Hearing you say that means a lot.”

  “You’re also very smart. You played along with Cobie the most. I could never say no when you joined our lunch meals together.”

  Ai-senpai’s cordial tone never changed, her idyllic face never falling, but Yura has spent enough time around the expert liar and actress Ai Hoshino to know how to read between the lines.

  Yura’s investments in schmoozing Cobie had paid off, but now Ai was now more bluntly pointing it out. “I think we both knew what I was doing,” Yura confessed sincerely. “I apologize if I ever came off as too pushy or weird by joking all the time with Cobalt.”

  “No, no, you were nothing but sweet.”

  Yura still felt guilty. Ai wouldn’t have said something if she didn’t feel the need to draw attention to Yura’s behavior. “To clarify, I was actually serious when I offered to lend my voice in Cobalt’s videos.” It wasn’t even about trying to leech more acting tips off of Ai, or watching Cobalt try to perfectly portray a character. Truthfully, she wouldn’t mind trying something new, whether through Elemental Orel or otherwise. “I do think it’d be fun! I wouldn’t expect to be paid or anything like that.”

  Ai-senpai considered the offer. “Your agency wouldn’t allow you to do non-compensated work, or without a proper contract. Even using an alias wouldn’t fly by them.”

  With a sigh, Yura loosened up a little. “I know, but I’ll let you in on a little secret, Ai-senpai.” Like gossiping school girls, they leaned closer to each other. “Once Signal Lost is out in theaters, my current contract will have run its course. I’ve got other jobs and production companies eyeing me up and vice versa already.”

  Ai tilted her head, as if forming the curve of a question mark. “And Strawberry Productions is one of them?”

  “I haven’t received any offers from Strawberry, but I wouldn’t be opposed to them if you’ll have me.” Yura sipped her soda. “Though, no offense, from the sample contracts Cobie slipped me at the Strawberry office, I’d need a little more wiggle room with my cut of the pay if I’m going to move out of my apartment and into a real house by this time next year.”

  Being near Ai-senpai was addictive, but Yura decided not to try selling herself too hard. Getting into the same agency as Ai Hoshino should be a bonus to other terms in Yura’s next contract. Ai-senpai will know she’s interested and understand that Yura still has to concentrate on her own career path.

  “… You’re old enough to drink, right?” Ai-senpai suddenly asked.

  Confused, Yura said, “I turned twenty earlier this year. I’ve only drank out of obligation during wrap parties like this, for business.”

  “That’s fine. Going out for drinks with peers and potential business partners is the norm in this industry anyway. I ask because there’s someone I know in another agency I think you’ll like, and sharing a drink would be the most convenient way to introduce you.”

  So Ai-senpai was trying to bump Yura onto a different production company? Yura exaggerated a pout. “Someone who will make my heart flutter more than you, Ai-senpai?”

  The warm smile Ai-senpai gave thankfully didn’t make Yura’s heart skip a beat. This was why she was sober for this conversation. “Chances are, he might. But only if he puts in the effort. Over time, he’s honed his skills in studying people, understanding them with complete objectivity. He doesn’t know my babies too well, but he would have spotted Cobie posing as Aqua in two shakes.”

  “Is this another acting senpai you’re referring me to?”

  Ai-senpai nodded. “You know, I honestly ran out of useful acting advice to give you. Regarding Strawberry, if you joined, you’d make a living and get some good savings if you spend your money right, but for someone like you, you won’t be growing or learning as much. We don’t have the widest or biggest connections to get you more high-profile jobs. I’m the best actress we have – I don’t mean that in a bragging way, but I mean realistically. Essentially, you’ve hit the peak with Strawberry. For being so nice to Cobie, I think the last thing I can give you is an in with an actor I know with certainty is better than me.”

  Yura liked Ai-senpai, but if Ai was going to refer Yura to her senpai, what idiot would say no? “You haven’t let me down yet, Ai-senpai. That’ll be another thing I’ll owe you for and be forever grateful for!”

  Ai grasped Yura’s hands, and damn it all, it took all of Yura’s strength not to outright swoon. “As long as you shine and sparkle the world with your acting,” Ai said in her velvety voice, “that will be thanks enough for me. I do think Yura Katayose, with all of her soul, has what it takes to make the world tremble with her performances.”

  “Thank you for your belief in me, Ai. Truly… So, who’s this senpai you’re introducing me to?”

  “I should give him a call beforehand to set things up.” Ai pulled out her phone. “He’s actually a very busy guy. For now, let’s call him… Miki.”