The King of Tokyo Freeloaders [19]

“Now that we’ve talked about your public image, let’s move on to the actual roadmap. Do you know what it takes to become a voice actress?”

The black-haired girl shook her head.

At her age, most high school girls hadn’t even decided what university to apply to, let alone what career to pursue.

Even though Japan had something called “career path surveys,” the truth was that students who actually knew what they wanted to do were rare.

Most were still focused on club activities, figuring out what songs to sing at karaoke after school, or where to grab snacks on the way home.

They were enjoying the full bloom of youth—carefree, unburdened, and utterly unprepared for the future.

Which made Kuroba Akira, with his clear goals and precise methods, the odd one out among students.

“I’ll explain it for you. Normally, if you want to become a seiyuu, you start by attending a specialized school or a seiyuu training academy. Then you apply to a talent agency and, if you’re lucky, get signed. From there, you begin with minor or background roles, use those to showcase your style, build up experience, and slowly work your way toward more important parts—eventually becoming a well-known name in the industry. That’s the standard career path.”

“Okay,” she said, listening intently, starting to form a mental picture of her possible future.

“There’s also a second route. You join a theater troupe, build your acting and vocal skills through live stage performances, and then transition into voice work. Thanks to that stage experience, it’s easier to adapt to voice acting. And having a theater background gives you connections that can fast-track you into better roles.”

“Mm.”

“In short, if you’re an outsider, it’s absolutely impossible to break in quickly.”

“…Huh?”

She’d been paying close attention—until his last line hit her. Outsider—wasn’t that her?

“And on top of that, you don’t want to show your face. That takes what should be your greatest asset and turns it into a disadvantage—a massive roadblock to becoming a seiyuu.”

“Why?!”

“Because sponsors want attractive seiyuu to help sell their shows and merchandise. If you refuse to appear in public, talent agencies will think you’re being wasteful—or worse, difficult to work with.”

“……”

She fell silent. Her stubbornness might end up derailing her career before it even began. Once again, this face of hers felt like a curse.

But now that she’d already committed to building a future with him, she realized—she’d have to let go of her naïveté.

Just as she was about to say she was willing to show her face, Akira cut in.

“But it’s fine. I already have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Of course. This is our third option. After all, both the school and theater routes cost money—money we don’t have.”

He held his palms up, as if to say, see?

A runaway girl and a couch-surfing boy. Between them, they didn’t even have a single yen.

And besides, those conventional paths took time—something Akira wasn’t willing to waste.

“So, you’re going to teach yourself. Self-study is the key.”

“We’re really going with self-study…?”

“Yup. It’s our only option. Tons of people who switched into the voice acting industry from unrelated jobs—those so-called ‘dream chasers’—started out by teaching themselves.”

“…I see.”

Sure, the cost was zero—but was it realistic?

If self-study alone could turn you into a voice actress, then wouldn’t everyone be doing it?

The real problem was that people didn’t know where to start, or how to learn. That’s why they needed guidance.

But somehow, this boy was overflowing with confidence. He even gave her a thumbs-up as he said:

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you exactly what to train and how to train. As long as you stick with it, you’ll be a star in no time!”

Akira had never been a seiyuu himself, but back in his last life, he’d worked at a game company and had experience as a voice-over supervisor. He’d selected voice actors, attended recordings, and given feedback on how to adjust performance to match character.

In other words, he had a precise sense for what kind of voice fits what kind of role.

As someone who’d been on the “client side”—the one hiring and critiquing talent—he knew exactly what agencies were looking for.

So he had no doubt he could train this girl into a top-tier voice actress.

“Once you’re ready, we’ll record a sample reel. Then we’ll submit it to the agencies we’ve targeted. We’ll use your voice to win them over first. Once they’ve heard you, your looks won’t even be a factor anymore. It’s that simple.”

“……”

So he’d already thought that far ahead…

He was serious. He really did want her to become a voice actress.

“So from here on, things are going to get crazy. Like, cat’s-paw-level busy.”

That was a Japanese idiom—so busy you’d borrow a cat’s paw.

Akira tried to grab Blacktail’s paw for effect, but the cat swatted at him twice. Totally uncooperative.

After smacking him, Blacktail trotted over to the girl’s feet and meowed—still begging for milk.

She knelt down, opened the bottle cap, poured some into the lid, and set it in front of the cat.

Akira blinked in surprise. Wait—wasn’t that milk for herself?

She traded half her life for a bottle of milk… just to feed a cat?

Then again, trading milk for a lifetime of dreams was absurd in the first place.

Maybe this was her way of burning the bridge behind her—of cutting off all retreat.

“…I should thank you properly.”

“Meow~”

Blacktail purred contentedly as she lapped up the milk.

“What’s her name?”

“Blacktail.”

“Mm… thank you, Blacktail.”

Thank you for finding me.

And thank you for bringing him to me.

Life could pivot on the smallest coincidences.

If she hadn’t met him tonight, she might really have ended up as one of those kami-machi shōjo girls—waiting on a god who’d never come. Or worse… selling her body on the street.

“And what about you?” she asked.

“Oh, right. We never introduced ourselves…”

They’d talked for so long—hell, they’d already made a contract—yet neither of them knew the other’s name. It was absurd.

Akira shook his head with a laugh and placed his hands on his hips.

“I’m Kuroba Akira. Just your average male high school student.”

“Kuroba… Akira… Akira…”

She repeated it a few times like she wanted to etch it into her memory. Eventually, she said naturally:

“Can I call you Aki-kun?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

In Japan, it was unusual to use someone’s given name unless you were close. Most people went by surnames with honorifics, like the class rep calling him Kuroba-kun or Kuroba-san.

But Akira didn’t care much. Back in his game company days, everyone used nicknames anyway.

“Well, I told you mine—now it’s your turn.”

“I’m Shiginomiya Shion. But you can call me by my name—Shion.”

“…Oho.”

That name reminded Akira of a certain sadistic silver-haired maid—basically the opposite of this black-haired ice queen.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I think your name is perfect. Just hearing it, I know you’ll be a star. Shion—shining, radiant… so purple it’s nearly black.”

“…That’s a weird way to put it.”

It was actually a pun—“Shion” and “shikuro” being a play on “deep purple to black.” But it didn’t quite work in Japanese.

So Akira switched to a more direct line:

“What I mean is, you don’t need to be some god-waiting girl anymore. I’ll make you your own god.”

—

T/N: THAT ACADEMIC ABILITY A IS PUTTING IN WORK? WHY IS HE SUCH A CHARMER :SOB: ID FALL

This is a fan translation of 东京软饭王 by 夜幕下的鬼 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!