Yin Ze flipped through the script in under twenty seconds, skimming just enough to know where to find it later if needed. Once stored, he didn't give it another glance.
After exchanging a few polite words with him, Rina Hidaka returned her focus to the worksheet in front of her.
Honestly, being able to settle your mind and concentrate in any environment was a rare and enviable talent. It usually came from years of disciplined living—and it was practically the hallmark of a successful go-getter.
Yin Ze, by comparison, couldn't even comfortably watch a girl group performance if the seat cushion was too firm—let alone study.
He sneaked a glance at the real, live schoolgirl across the table.
There was once a saying: "Live in an American house, hire a British butler, eat Chinese food, marry a Japanese woman, and fight like a French soldier."
Where it came from, nobody knew. But the ideal of the *yamato nadeshiko*—the perfect Japanese housewife—had lodged itself deep in the collective male imagination. Early to rise and late to bed, graceful and demure, warm and thoughtful. Always ready with a lunchbox and a "Be safe out there," and waiting at home with a hot meal and a perfectly drawn bath.
Elegant. Gentle. Loyal. The embodiment of traditional feminine virtues.
Of course, with the rise of global information sharing, most people had long since realized it was a fantasy—just like the idea that leggy Ukrainian blondes were lining up to date hardworking men from the Flower Kingdom.
Still, even beyond the *yamato nadeshiko*, there was another kind of Japanese woman idealized in fiction: the high school girl.
Unlike the classic anime protagonist—some window-seat loner who could slay gods with a finger—high school girls represented fleeting, untouchable youth. They were sacred, dreamy, fragile. A projection of romance, innocence, and nostalgia, all wrapped in a school uniform.
They were the pure love in *Snow Country*.
The melancholy beauty in *The Tale of Genji*.
The quiet yearning in *The Pillow Book*.
The bittersweet regret of a childhood friend left behind.
Yin Ze had fantasized about them too. I mean, who *doesn't* fall for a cute girl in a crisp white uniform?
And now, here was the real thing.
Actually, he'd already met quite a few—schoolgirls sipping bubble tea on the street, even his coworker Sakura—but they lacked that soft, feminine charm. Sakura, for instance, was shy around strangers but acted more like a tomboy in private.
No good. Not good at all. She lacked that idealized femininity, too far from the literary archetypes.
But Rina Hidaka—despite being younger than him—was different. She was, without a doubt, the most convincing person he'd ever seen in a sailor uniform.
Utterly natural.
Perfect.
As Yin Ze sank deeper into the world of high school romance novels, feeling like he'd finally checked off some lifelong dream, the girl across from him started to fidget.
She could feel his gaze.
Having grown up in the spotlight, Rina was used to being watched. But being stared at by a man in such close quarters still made her uncomfortable.
Kind of rude, actually.
She put down her pen, flashing that polite, rehearsed smile. "Um… am I distracting you? You look… very focused."
It was a subtle reminder—and a boundary.
"Not at all. Just… a bit nostalgic." Yin Ze's voice was clear, his smile gentle. "You look so peaceful when you study. It brought back memories."
The big-brother tone caught her off guard. It was unexpectedly respectful, like moonlight—bright and sincere.
She paused for a moment, then glanced at the time and started packing up her books and practice sheets.
"You done?" Yin Ze asked.
"We're about to start recording. Let's go over the vibe and structure of the radio segment," she said with a small cough. "Do you have any experience with this kind of work, Takizawa-san?"
"None. First time."
"Do you know what our broadcasts are usually about?"
"Promotion, brand growth, boosting IP visibility?"
"Think you'll come back again? Like for another *Dark Rebirth Fantasy* recording?"
"If I'm invited and I'm free, sure."
"Any personal preferences or requests?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"Just want it to be fun. Relaxed."
"Have you prepared anything for being the guest on our first episode? Think you'll do okay?"
"I'm a team player. Loyal and eager to contribute… Wait, why does this feel like a job interview?" Yin Ze scratched his head.
"Honestly, the format's pretty simple," she said, adjusting her gray-rimmed glasses. "Intro chatter, Q\&A, behind-the-scenes stories, a mini skit, and then some promotional ads. Any questions?"
"Nope." He was easygoing about it.
"Well, I'm the regular host, so if we can get the tone right today, it sets the template for the future," Rina said seriously.
"I'm good with anything."
"The Q\&A and behind-the-scenes are the only unscripted parts. Want to do a quick practice run?"
"Sure. You start."
She paused, thinking.
Listener mail? None—it was their first show.
Behind-the-scenes stories? None yet—they were only halfway through recording Episode 2, and the guy in front of her had only done Episode 1.
For a moment, she had nothing.
Yin Ze waited to play along… and realized the "project manager" looked stuck. His inner office worker instincts kicked in.
"You're still in school but already landing lead roles. That's impressive, Hidaka-san."
She blinked, then smoothly picked up the cue. "I did some child acting, but switching to voice work is still new for me."
"That must be exhausting. Juggling everything like that."
"It is. And I've started to wonder if acting is really for me." Her voice dipped.
"Adults envy young people most when they see someone so young already chasing a goal. You're amazing," Yin Ze sighed.
"Ah… thank you." Rina tilted her head. "But you're not that old either, are you, Takizawa-san?"
"Still, the saying goes 'Anyone more capable is your teacher.' You've got a lot I can learn from."
"My skills aren't that great. Still so much to improve. You, on the other hand, handled your debut with such ease. That's impressive," she replied modestly.
"Someone else did all the hard work," he said softly. "By the way, how do you balance school and voice acting?"
"Hmm… make the most of each day, I guess."
"Studying seriously is no easier than work," Yin Ze muttered, thinking of the mountain of textbooks he once had to memorize.
"Right? Arts have too much memorization, sciences are just hard," Rina added with a pout.
"You looked really frustrated earlier. Do you go to cram school too?"
"Every other week. I usually collect questions I couldn't solve on my own and ask the teachers. Like that one earlier—I saved it to ask later."
"Oh? Mind if I take a look?"
"Takizawa-san, you're in college, right?"
"First year."
"Then you should be fine." She handed over the worksheet.
"Oh, one of these." Yin Ze took thirty seconds to read the question.
"Can you do it?" she asked.
"You just have to plug in this formula, find the missing condition first, and it gets easier from there." He muttered as he started scribbling on the sheet.
Ten minutes later.
The producer, having finalized a few last details, headed for the studio to call them in.
These two were considered rising stars by industry insiders. Their agency was fully behind them. Both were clearly hardworking. As strong contenders for future top-tier voice talent, everything should be ready.
The producer strode in confidently, opened the door—
—and saw the guest reclining with one leg crossed over the other, calmly reading from an English vocabulary book, while the diligent host sat beside him, busy with a spelling quiz.