Boy with Orange-flavored toothpaste, huh!
This was the first time Kitagawa Ryo had been called that. Before he could even react, the girl—whose name he vaguely remembered as Hoshino Ai—stepped closer.
Perhaps feeling that the height difference made her towering over him awkward, Ai quickly crouched down in front of Ryo. But she was only twelve herself, and now she ended up shorter than him.
However, Hoshino Ai didn't seem to notice this at all. She earnestly pulled out her phone, deftly entered the password "45510," and then thrust it toward Ryo with an overwhelming enthusiasm:
"Can I take a photo with you? I've always liked… uh, Kitagawa… senpai!"
It was as if she had suddenly forgotten his name, and you could almost feel her biting her tongue. Ryo found it somewhat amusing and crouched down slightly to meet her eye level.
"It's Kitagawa Ryo."
"As for the photo, class is about to start. Let's do it after, okay?"
After saying this, Ryo stood back up. Seeing Hoshino Ai up close, he realized she was even more beautiful than in photos, especially her eyes, which seemed to carry a faint, almost magical allure.
Toshirou Kindaichi, who had been walking behind Ryo, caught up and glanced at Ai, who was still crouching thoughtfully. He then said:
"Come on in."
"Today's WorkShop will be taught by Ryo himself."
Hoshino Ai followed Kindaichi, her gaze bypassing the influential figure in the theater troupe and firmly fixed on Kitagawa Ryo.
The look in his eyes just now was strikingly similar to the one she saw in the mirror.
The face was the same as the one she saw daily on billboards, bathed in bright orange hues, yet it felt like an entirely different person.
From this perspective, it seemed like he was the ultimate version of what she aspired to become.
Hoshino Ai curled her lips into a smile and swiftly sent a message to the president:
"Finally met Kitagawa Ryo today! ＾ω＾!"
After doing this, Ai followed the group into the practice room, which erupted into applause the moment Ryo entered.
For just a fleeting moment, she felt a sense of disorientation.
But the girl quickly immersed herself in the wave of cheers and excitement, naturally joining in.
This was one of the small achievements she had gained over the past two months.
About two months ago, Hoshino Ai had been taken by President Ichigo Saitou to a place called the LALALAI Theater.
On the way, Ai curiously asked:
"Huh? Aren't I supposed to be an idol? Why are we going to a theater?"
"Because right now, all you have is cuteness, and you can't even express that properly."
Saitou, sitting in the passenger seat, clicked his tongue and rubbed his forehead in frustration.
"That modeling job Takamine got you for the fashion magazine—you actually showed up in that outfit… No wonder they thought you were some country bumpkin."
"I didn't have any other clothes!"
Ai energetically raised her hand to protest.
"You could've just come to me, and I'd have rented you something suitable… But whatever, at least it wasn't a total loss. You caught the eye of Producer Kaburagi. He's new to the industry, but he used to be part of the LALALAI Theater during college and has some connections with their stage director, Toshirou Kindaichi."
(Note: "P" is short for "producer.")
At this point, Saitou's expression brightened, and his voice unconsciously rose a few notches:
"I was planning to enroll you in an acting class anyway. Even though Kaburagi probably just made a casual investment, we can use this connection to get you into the LALALAI Theater's training program. Tsk tsk, what a stroke of luck… No, no, it's clearly because he saw your potential. I'm sure you'll make it big."
"So I'm supposed to join this theater thing and learn acting? I thought idols just had to sing and dance."
"Hmph, it's not that simple. You'll have to learn posture, lines, positioning… It'll take a while. I'm not planning to churn out some factory-made idol."
Saitou pointed at himself and declared confidently:
"One day, I'll take B-Komachi to the Tokyo Dome!"
Although Ai had no idea what the Tokyo Dome was—her mind conjuring images of a giant egg—she still clapped enthusiastically and cheered softly, "Ohh!"
"Anyway, Ai, focus on learning here. Once you've got the basics down, I'll start preparing your debut live."
"As for finances, if you run into any trouble, you can borrow against your future salary. If there's anything you don't feel comfortable telling me, just call Miyako. She's just sitting at home watching TV all day anyway."
Saitou gave his instructions like a doting father, adding one last piece of advice:
"It's unlikely, but if you happen to run into Kitagawa Ryo at the theater, try to get a photo with him. It'll be useful for promotions and hype later."
"Kitagawa? Who's that, President Saitou?"
Ai tilted her head, confused.
"The kid on the bus stop ad you pass six times a day! How can you not remember? And… my last name is Saitou."
Saitou rubbed his temples, suddenly feeling that his wife, who spent her days glued to the TV cheering for Kitagawa Ryo, had a point. Raising a son like Ryo would've been much easier than raising a daughter.
Though she did follow up with some strange comments about dressing Ryo in girls' clothes.
"Oh, the one with the orange-flavored toothpaste! If it weren't so expensive, I'd buy some for myself."
Ai swung her legs back and forth in the back seat:
"That kid is everywhere."
"He's the hottest child star right now. Child stars are so convenient for hype—no need to worry about public opinion. Last month, several idols named him as their top choice for 'most desired co-star.' They can say they like him without any issues since he's just a kid."
"Got it! If I see that Kitahara guy, I'll get a photo with him."
"His last name is Kitagawa…"
Although Saitou had always wanted to fix Ai's habit of forgetting names, he wasn't too worried. After all, Ai wasn't actually lacking in memory or intelligence. If she couldn't remember names or faces, they could just spin it as part of her airhead persona.
He glanced at Ai in the rearview mirror. She was happily playing with the new phone he had bought her for work.
Seemingly having found something interesting, the girl occasionally flashed a bright smile. While her features still carried a childlike innocence, there were moments when a womanly charm shone through.
This blend of maturity and naivety was like a half-ripe apple, one of the selling points of a middle school idol.
That's why Saitou had directly invited Ai to become an idol.
He saw in her the qualities of a "star"—the kind of talent that turns everyone else into supporting characters and draws all eyes to herself.
"By the way, does the theater provide lunch? If they do, can I take some home?"
Ai suddenly asked, her down-to-earth question snapping Saitou out of his Tokyo Dome fantasies. He could only reply helplessly:
"They do provide lunch, but don't expect much. It's probably just a standard boxed meal—one meat dish, two sides, and rice. You'll have to make do. As for taking it home… I think everyone gets a fixed portion."
"That's still good! I thought they wouldn't provide anything."
Ai nodded thoughtfully, her fingers swiping across her phone screen while her eyes drifted to the window, her expression distant.
"What, not used to it?"
Saitou had seen actors from well-off families in the industry who refused to eat the boxed meals provided by sets or workplaces, opting instead to have their assistants bring homemade lunches or even bringing their own chefs.
"Our agency isn't that well-off."
"It's not that."
Ai waved her hand:
"I've just never had a boxed meal before, so I'm curious what it's like."
"I'll definitely finish every last bite!"