Let me explain the situation.

Right now, I’m in the same private cafeteria room I used last time when talking with Frill.

Sitting in front of me is the number one young talent—Shiranui Frill. Being alone with a nationally famous actress in a private room is quite an honor, but the problem is that Frill is in an extremely bad mood.

Today, Frill did something strange—she only came to school for the last homeroom before leaving at noon, but the moment it ended, she came straight to me and dragged me here without letting me refuse. She acted normal in the classroom, but ever since we entered this room, she’s been in a bad mood the whole time.

"So, what did you need?"

"What do you think?"

I’d like to say don’t answer a question with a question, but that would obviously make her mood worse, so I hold back.

"What could it be… maybe the magazine from before is finished?"

"That’s done. There were no issues."

'I didn’t get any confirmation though… but it seems that’s not it.'

"...Then I don’t have any other guesses."

"Really? Haven’t you been doing any work lately?"

'Work? The only thing that comes to mind is the dating reality show. But that shouldn’t have much to do with Frill.'

"Thankfully, I’ve gotten a few modeling jobs. Other than that, just the dating reality show."

It seems the photographer from before recommended me around, so I ended up getting several modeling offers.

"That one."

Frill, who had been listening silently, finally spoke.

So the reason she’s in a bad mood is the dating reality show.

But I can’t think of why that would upset her.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"Why would I? I didn’t think there was any need…"

'What is she even angry about?’

"Hmm, so you’re going to use the techniques you stole from me to entertain other girls. I see."

She said it deliberately.

"Sorry, but… I’m not actually going there to fall in love. And this was decided before I even enrolled."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

She stared at me for a while, then—"...I see. Then it’s fine."

Her expression softened again.

She took out a magazine from her bag.

"Here. They asked me to have you check it."

It was the magazine we shot before.

"Thanks."

I put it in my bag.

Seems my guess wasn’t entirely off.

"You came to school just for this?"

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"Don’t worry. I did it because I wanted to."

With that, she left, apparently heading to work.

* * *

Inside the car—the girl thought happily.

'So he’s not going there to fall in love. I knew that, but… it’s still reassuring. I got to hand him the magazine myself too. Today was perfect. If I remember right, the first episode of LoveForReal airs tonight… I hope I can watch it between work.'

Seeing her like that, Kirishima thought, 'I’d prefer not to be used for something like this… but she looks happy, so I guess it’s fine.'

* * *

That night—during travel time between jobs, Frill opened the first episode that had just aired.

The participants were high schoolers currently starting to gain recognition as promising young talents.

That said, from the general public’s perspective, they were mostly unknown.

As consideration for both viewers and participants, the first episode mainly introduced their profiles.

Then came the one-minute appeal segment.

For Sumi Yuki—it was fashion and makeup.

With each step down the runway, her outfit and makeup changed, creating a rapid transformation.

She finished with a final pose, her outfit fluttering.

For Kumano Nobuyuki—it was dance.

A dynamic yet delicate break-style performance.

For Kurokawa Akane—it was a solo etude.

She portrayed a beautiful girl lost in nature during a solo trip.

For Morimoto Kengo—it was a guitar solo.

A high-speed rock performance, ending with him throwing the pick into the air.

For Memcho—it was a CG-enhanced idol performance.

Cute, flashy and polished—very much like a YouTuber.

And for Hoshino Ruri—he simply stood outside, letting the wind blow past him.

No large movements.

No clear expression.

And yet—somehow, your eyes are drawn to him.

The same atmosphere control using instability as in that modeling shoot.

Everyone watching was captivated.

Time seemed to pass in an instant.

But this time, it didn’t end there.

At the very end, he turned his gaze to the camera—something he hadn’t done until now—and smiled softly.

This wasn’t instability.

It was calculated beauty.

Frill’s specialty.

Combined with his looks, it created a fleeting beauty that seemed like it could disappear at any moment.

That final smile snapped every viewer back to reality.

Hoshino Ruri completely controlled the atmosphere in just one minute.

"As expected."

Frill muttered in admiration.

Her manager was surprised.

'She’s analyzing calmly instead of freaking out… maybe I underestimated her.'

But that thought was proven wrong seconds later.

After the appeal segment, the show shifted into free talk.

The participants shared their impressions.

[So cool! That one minute felt so short. I got totally drawn in.]

[Memcho’s dance was great too. Getting praised by a cute girl is kind of embarrassing.]

"Huh? Die…"

Frill muttered coldly, then immediately continued—"I’ve never even been called cute. And what’s with that persona? You’re not just going for the fragile pretty boy now, you’re adding pure boy too? That’s not who you are. You’re always expressionless when you’re with me. Or what, being with me isn’t fun? And also—"

Once she started, she didn’t stop.

Frill unleashed a barrage of complaints at Ruri through the screen.

Kirishima quickly intervened.

"Frill, calm down. I get it—it’s annoying seeing someone you know act all lovey-dovey, but he’s an actor. He’s playing a likable character. That’s the correct way to gain popularity. You understand that, right?"

But logic doesn’t stop emotions.

"I understand. But this is too much. That persona is overdone. He’s always completely expressionless, and now this? I could tolerate the fragile pretty boy, but this is too much. He’s clearly targeting female fans. He doesn’t need that—he’d become popular anyway. It’s obvious he’s aiming for a shortcut. If you had told me earlier, I could’ve stopped this. Even a week earlier, I could’ve arranged a replacement or something. Maybe I should still—"

Seeing her reach for her phone, Kirishima panicked and stopped her.

"No. It’s too late. And he said he’s not there for romance, right? Don’t you trust him?"

Frill remembered his words, took a deep breath and reluctantly returned her gaze to the screen.

Kirishima sighed in relief.

'Please don’t provoke her any further…'

* * *

I actively approached both men and women, building connections.

Because this time, I wanted to act as a mediator.

If couples start forming, I’ll connect them naturally and involve others as well.

That way, even without falling in love myself, I’ll get more screen time.

Lastly… Yuki.

As I searched for her, I sensed someone behind me—but ignored it on purpose.

"Ruri-kun, good work."

Yuki pressed a cold bottle against my neck from behind.

I acted surprised and responded.

…

"I’m timid, I can’t step forward. I’m not good at talking… I’ll probably just fade away."

"Then why join a talk-focused show?"

At my question, she lowered her voice.

"...The top talent at my agency never refuses jobs. They take everything, so I’m always left with nothing… I just wanted to try something. Then Kaburagi offered this… and I’ve never been in love before, so I thought it might be a good chance."

I showed mild surprise.

"No way. You seem popular."

"Not at all. Being a talent doesn’t mean you’re dating all the time."

"I see."

"You don’t believe me, do you?"

She responded playfully.

I lowered my voice and answered seriously.

"I believe you. And honestly, you don’t seem hopeless at all. You’re trying to change your situation. In the end, the ones who act are the ones who win. So you’ll be fine."

She replied after a pause.

"...As expected of an actor. Smooth talker. If I’m not careful, I might fall for you. With that face and those words, how many girls have you made cry?"

"I don’t even have a girlfriend. Besides, it’d be weird if I did in a place like this."

She laughed lightly.

"So you’re not interested in love?"

"Of course I am. I’m a guy. But I’ve been too busy to deal with it."

"I see. Then we both have to overcome that hurdle—first love."

"Feels like a middle school conversation."

She nodded, then leaned in.

"Did you know? Last season’s couple kissed at the end."

"Yeah. Pretty standard."

"...I was worried if there’d be anyone good here…"

She leaned against me and whispered—"I think I could kiss you."

A slight chill ran down my spine.

Still smiling, I replied jokingly—"So you’ll teach me love?"

She looked slightly surprised that I didn’t lose composure.

I had already noticed the camera behind us.

This scene would definitely be used.

* * *

Frill had been quietly watching the screen, occasionally muttering under her breath.

"I see… so you want to act as a mediator. Which means you really don’t intend to fall in love."

She murmured to herself.

And then—the moment Kirishima let her guard down, thinking this week would somehow end peacefully, was probably the trigger.

The whispering scene between Ruri and Yuki played.

The fact that she managed to watch it until the end was practically a miracle.

After finishing it somehow, Frill turned off her phone and took a breath—

Then her frustration exploded.

"So what is that pure-boy act? ‘Will you teach me love’? That sounds like you’re completely ready to fall in love. And the ending felt way too good. Yuki definitely likes you. You could probably confess right now and she’d say yes. I can tell. Her eyes say it. And honestly, if my manager had told me earlier—"

Once she started, she couldn’t stop.

Kirishima only managed to calm her down three minutes before they arrived at the next location.

* * *

From that day on, filming for ‘LoveForReal’ progressed without major issues.

As planned, I stuck to the mediator role and kept things running smoothly.

Currently, the main focus of the show was the love triangle between Yuki, Nobu and Kengo.

Centering on that, they filmed typical high school activities like karaoke and TikTok.

Naturally, Memcho stood out during the TikTok segments.

Everything proceeded smoothly—until the end of the program.

"...I think I want to quit 'LoveForReal'."

"What!?"

Yuki muttered with tears in her eyes.

Everyone reacted in shock.

I stepped back slightly.

This wasn’t my moment to stand out—so I adjusted positioning to highlight Nobu instead.

"In the middle of everything!?"

"Why would you say that!?"

"Recently… the boys at school have been teasing me. Asking if this is the kind of guy I like. Showing everyone your feelings… I didn’t realize it would be this scary…"

"...Mem also gets it… I act dumb on my channel… everyone thinks I’m stupid… I mean, I am…"

"A-Are you really quitting?"

"Don’t say that! I’ll always listen to you! If you quit, I’ll quit too! It might be tough, but let’s keep going together!"

"...I—"

The camera cut.

The final shot showed Nobu and Yuki.

The intent of the production was obvious.

"Okay, that’s a wrap! Great work!"

Everyone relaxed.

After the broadcast, online articles appeared.

Sumi Yuki—dropping out of reality show?

Social media filled with comments.

"Yuki might actually quit."
"She seems mentally fragile."
"Nobu was so cool."

Reactions varied, but were generally positive.

"Look! It’s already an article! Did I help attract viewers?"

"Probably."

The tears from before were gone—Yuki excitedly showed me her phone.

"You don’t seem that interested."

"Yeah, yeah. Where did that pure boy from earlier go?"

Yuki puffed her lips, and Memcho joined in.

"It’s not that I’m not interested… but if things get too heated, it becomes harder to control."

"Wow, you’re cold."

Memcho glared at me.

Ignoring it, I asked Yuki—"So, are you quitting?"

"Eh, I can’t quit. I still have a contract."

"Figures."

"Oh, realistic."

"Wait, so that was acting!?"

"No, no. I’m not an actress like Kurokawa. I can’t act."

She did well enough.

They say women are born actresses.

"Just exaggerating my feelings a bit. I really was upset, and I did think about quitting."

"I see. Not lying—just exaggeration."

"...That’s acceptable in talk shows too."

Kurokawa Akane took notes in her notebook.

A serious girl—almost too serious.

The type who overthinks and struggles to act.

As I thought that, someone suddenly put an arm around my shoulder.

"Ruri, let’s go eat! We’re done for today, right?"

"Sure. Where?"

Nobu smirked.

"Mem-san said she’d treat us to yakiniku."

"I never said that!?"

Mem denied it, but Yuki piled on—"I know you’ve been making good money lately. Your agency only takes 50%, right?"

"50%!? Seriously!?"

The bigger the agency, the larger their cut.

Some agencies don’t even disclose it.

Ichigo Production is one of those.

"You?"

"No idea. They don’t tell us. But since the president is basically family, I doubt there’s anything shady."

"And you, Akane?"

"...80-20. I only get 20… not that I’m doing this for money… but still…"

Without cameras, the reality of money came out.

And the atmosphere turned into envy.

Memcho, being kind-hearted, couldn’t resist that pressure.

So—"Fine! Order the premium platter!"

That was inevitable.

We thanked her and enjoyed free yakiniku.

The conversation ranged from the show to work to school life.

Then Akane, who had been quietly grilling meat, asked seriously—"Ruri, can I ask something?"

"If I can answer."

"What does the show need going forward?"

She hadn’t made an impact yet.

She was desperate.

Everyone turned to me.

I thought for a moment.

"We’ve already built enough relationships. Now viewers will want something more intense. That’s the appeal of this show."

"I see…"

She wrote it down.

"But there’s a limit. You need to calculate risk and stay within safe bounds. Don’t overdo it."

Everyone started thinking about their roles.

After a while, dinner ended.

I took a taxi, then walked home.

We have a rule—family dinner on Sundays.

I’ve been missing it because of filming.

As I walked at night, I thought—'I might’ve said too much today. I can already guess what Akane will do. She’ll position herself as Yuki’s rival. With me as mediator and Memcho as mascot, that’s the only role left. But it doesn’t suit her. She’s not built for this kind of show.

I can already see how this ends. I don’t mind if she fails—but if this continues, it could affect her career. She’s talented. The young ace of Lalalai Theater. Losing Kurokawa Akane here would be a waste. But protecting her directly won’t help. So what can I do…'

His eyes, walking through the night, held deep darkness.