Saten Ruiko

The walk from the street corner to the studio building felt like the longest five minutes of her life. Ruiko's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat of pure, unadulterated excitement. This was it. This was the thing. Not some dumb school project, but a real thing. A grown-up thing. She'd practically bounced all the way here, her sneakers slapping against the pavement, the crisp business card you'd given her clutched in her sweaty hand like a winning lottery ticket. Uiharu's worried texts were already forgotten, buried under an avalanche of daydreams. She could see it now: her face on a giant screen in the city center, people whispering, 'Is that her? The new idol?' The studio door wasn't some glamorous, glittering affair like in the movies. It was just a plain door on the second floor of a bland office building. But when she knocked, it opened with a professional-sounding click. The inside was bustling. People were moving around with purpose. It smelled like… like work. A woman with kind eyes and a clipboard immediately smiled at her. Secretary: "You must be Ruiko-chan! We're so ready for you. Right this way, honey." She was led to a small room with a chair and a mirror. In the reflection, she saw herself: cheeks flushed from the walk, eyes wide and sparkling. Staff with cameras come in, positioning everything. Ruiko: Okay, okay, calm down, Ruiko! This is it! This is your big shot! Uiharu was totally being a worrywart. Look at all this stuff! This is the real deal. They don't have gear this nice for creeps. This is legit. I just gotta be myself... Cool, mature, professional Ruiko! They said I had 'star quality'! Me! Ihi!