"Listeners and fans across the nation, hello! Welcome to the twelfth episode of Dark Dream Talk. I'm your regular host, Hidaka Rina, voice of Penelope."
"Long time no see. I'm Takizawa Satoru, voice of Alfredo."
"Unbelievably, we're at episode twelve. The acclaimed first season of the anime wrapped spectacularly. Any thoughts, Takizawa-kun?"
"As a character killed off early, I didn't have Hidaka-san's seamless involvement, but I followed the story. Stunning visuals aside, the interlocking, escalating plot was gripping. I'm pumped for an even wilder second season."
"What's your favorite plot point so far, Takizawa-kun?"
No clue. Never thought about it.
Takizawa paused, having barely watched, relying on boilerplate praise.
"…Personally, episode one. The opening's a budget-burning battle, top-tier animation. It hooked plenty of non-source fans."
"Predictable choice, Takizawa-kun."
"It's where our bond began, Hidaka-san."
"But parted by life and death soon after, Takizawa-kun."
"Yet the feelings got through, Hidaka-san."
Seated inches apart, their eyes wouldn't meet. The polished host seemed off—gaze wandering, tone shaky, lacking her usual bubbly charm, distracted and perfunctory.
Takizawa felt a twinge of disappointment.
Kids don't know real storms. She's coasted on wit and charm, never socially bested. Getting floored by a quick jab was understandable.
Guess I'll carry the load and keep this going.
"By the way, Hidaka-san, it's chilly today," Takizawa said casually.
"Oh… yeah, it rained last night," Hidaka replied, half-dazed.
"Tokyo's rain comes out of nowhere, pattering down. Watching droplets coat the city, I wonder if it's the gods cooling this bustling metropolis. Some folks are so busy, they only pause under a street corner's eaves, waiting for the rain to stop," Takizawa said, smiling. "I love curling up in blankets, listening to rain's rhythm, idling life away, lost in thought. Got a favorite weather, Hidaka-san?"
"Summer heat," She said after a moment.
"That's intense."
"Not like I'm running marathons in it. I love the lazy vibe—cicadas buzzing, chomping iced watermelon."
"True, summer's got unique charms. Festival girls in yukata and clogs, candied apples and takoyaki at fireworks, long student breaks. A season for memories."
"Wow, Takizawa-kun gets it."
"Any long-term observation projects? Catching beetles in the hills?"
"No hills nearby, so I studied ants at my doorstep. Classmates caught bugs back home, though."
"Hoh, a true Tokyo princess," Takizawa teased, arms crossed.
"What's with that rude tone? I'm no princess—just ordinary!" Hidaka huffed.
"'I'm ordinary' only carries weight after years of grind. You're being modest, Hidaka-san."
"What princess can't afford a cab and runs to work?"
"Is that why you were late today?"
"…I apologized already."
"Listeners might not know, but the strict Hidaka-san was nearly forty minutes late, threw a small fit, and just got settled for the broadcast."
Takizawa's tone softened, comforting.
"Life's detours are normal; troubles pile up. Having someone to vent to helps. So, let's hear our listeners' worries and questions. Hidaka-san, pass me the letters."
The host complied dutifully.
"From 'Concrete Jumper.' Greetings, Takizawa-san, Hidaka-san. I started as an office worker two years ago, now in transport. In school, I was a casual otaku—models, manga, gal games. Work's drifted me from those hobbies. I caught Takizawa-san's scumbag rant in episode four, laughed hard, dug up earlier episodes, and got into the source.
"You're both great talkers, fun and in sync, with a drive I envy. My dull job's killed my passion; my band dreams are endlessly shelved. What are your ideals, you witty folks?"
"Proper writing," Hidaka noted.
"Yeah, no weird requests or wild stories, just a hint of worry, all reserved," Takizawa said.
"So, Takizawa-kun's ideal?"
"None," He said instantly.
"Huh? That's blunt," Hidaka blinked.
"Really none."
"No way. Lying's bad. Who doesn't dream? Something embarrassing, like becoming a giant of light?" She pressed.
"I've got my teenage fantasies, but no burning lifestyle or goal," Takizawa said.
"Maybe you hit a milestone and lost direction? You're a student who conquered a top university. A brief lull's normal," Hidaka reasoned.
"I didn't plan on college. Thought I'd grab a high school diploma and scrape by. Getting into a top school and doing voice acting… just fate," Takizawa said, sheepish.
"No college plans?" She asked, surprised.
"I was broke then. My rental was getting demolished, evicted, no steady income, no home. College wasn't on the radar," He said casually.
"…How?" She whispered.
"Family stuff," Takizawa brushed off. "I was figuring out where to sleep—under bridges or in net cafés. Thanks to Matsuoka, I avoided the streets. My middle school principal and counselor promised a scholarship if I got into a top school for glory. So I studied. That cash saved me."
"So you fought to get into Tokyo U?" Her voice was soft, cautious.
"Not fought, just did it," He said honestly.
"And voice acting? A fluke?"
"Sent a resume, passed a test, forgot about it after a nap… Found out I got in, half-pushed into it. I was eyeing delivery driving, online gigs, or illustrating kids' books."
He rubbed his chin.
"Thought about meals with meat, a dry place to sleep—basic stuff. Once the crisis passed, I had no grand ambitions. Ideals? None for now."
"So, a low-desire human. That's nice—easy to satisfy, no cravings, no overspending," Hidaka said, snapping back to work mode. "My ideal? Maybe a world tour."
"World's big, life's short. Missing its sights would be a shame. Start small—tour Japan," Takizawa nodded.
She flashed her usual smile, bantering, warming the mood. He matched her ease, relaxed.
So that was his honest answer.
But why so candid?
This was just a crowd-pleasing radio show, a performance.
Showbiz is a fame-and-fortune game.
Not fishing for pity or hype.
He could tease but skipped fake polish.
Asked earnestly, he bared raw wounds openly.
She pursed her lips, recalling their first meeting.
Such a strange guy.
So warm.
So earnest.
And… so strong.
***
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