Chapter 27: Walking Forward With You
Dawn.
Alan stood on the hilltop behind the school.
His wooden sword sliced through the crisp morning air. At the same moment, a gentle chime rang in his ear.
Ding.
[Romance Trainee’s Acting Level has advanced to Apprentice.]
[Reward: 1,000,000 yen + LV2 script purchase rights.]
[Next tier reward: 10,000,000 yen + LV3 script purchase rights.]
The bokken froze midair for half a beat.
Alan blinked, genuine surprise flickering across his eyes.
Nozomi Sakura was growing faster than he’d anticipated.
Less than a week had passed since Akari Honne’s birthday. Barely two weeks since he’d begun “dating” Nozomi. And already, she’d reached the Apprentice tier.
If he counted from the day he finalized her study plan, the pace was even more astonishing.
When he’d coached Akari Hojo, progress had never come this quickly.
Do different fields really grow at such wildly different speeds?
The thought lingered.
Still, the most difficult and crucial stage should have been the mental groundwork.
Alan had assumed that part would take time. That was why he checked her progress every few days, half-expecting her to slack off once the novelty wore thin.
Clearly, he’d underestimated the motivating power of cold, hard cash.
Nozomi wasn’t holding anything back.
Lowering his bokken, Alan rubbed his chin and walked over to the stone table nearby. He pulled his phone from his jacket and sent her a message.
"I see you’re free today. Take a break. I’ll take you out."
The message remained unread for a full minute. By the time he’d packed away the rest of his gear, a reply finally came through.
"Eh? Where did that come from? I already promised someone I’d study at the library this afternoon…"
He stared at the screen, then typed back.
"Even hard workers need rest. You’ve been amazing lately."
"Oh."
***
In the classroom, Nozomi sat at her desk, staring at the softly glowing screen in her hand.
Warmth surged through her chest.
Determination was invisible.
You could swear an oath to yourself, heart pounding, feeling strong enough to punch a hole through the universe, and no one else would ever know.
Even if you told a friend with absolute seriousness.
“I’ll do this, no matter what. Even if it kills me.”
The responses were always the same.
“Huh? Why even try? That’s impossible.”
“Haha, another wild dream. At least your odds are better than the lottery.”
“Really? Well… good luck.”
Rare was the person who looked at you with eyes brighter than your own and said, “I believe in you. Go for it. Whatever happens, I’ve got your back.”
That kind of encouragement felt warm, but more often than not, it came from affection, not genuine belief in your effort.
Because she understood this, something had always felt missing.
Yet now, when her heart was worn thin and no one else could see the strain, the simple words “You’ve worked hard. Take a break” filled her with quiet joy.
Her thumb brushed over the message.
Nozomi’s lips curved into a smile. Her half-lidded eyes softened as warmth spread through her.
That jerk… he’s actually kind of sweet.
She typed back.
"Could we not go out today?"
Alan blinked when he saw the reply.
"What’s wrong?"
"Nothing. I’m just really tired. Could we grab coffee at the new café instead?"
"What time?"
"Nine. I’ll pack up my notes and head over."
"Sure."
A notification banner slid across his screen.
[Kendo Club Notice: 9:30 a.m. — C School Kendo Club arriving for joint practice. Attendance mandatory. Match order decided by lottery.]
Alan flicked it away and locked the screen.
He’d planned to head there after morning practice, but Nozomi took priority. Skipping one session wouldn’t cost him any credits.
He packed away his bokken, showered at home, and headed for the café.
***
8:40 a.m.
Even though the shop had only just opened, a few customers were already inside.
As Alan pushed through the door beneath the Open sign, he spotted her instantly.
Nozomi sat by the window, chin resting in her hand, sleepy eyes gazing outside.
She yawned softly.
Morning sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating her face.
If he compared her now to a photo from a month ago, even she might not believe the difference.
“Welcome, what can I get you—”
The barista stopped mid-sentence.
Nozomi’s eyes lit up. She raised a hand and waved.
“Over here.”
Her voice was gentle, yet unmistakably bright.
“You look happy today.”
“Of course.” Nozomi nodded, sliding the menu toward him. “I’ve been grinding nonstop. Finally got a day off.”
“Sounds like you’re working a full-time job.”
“Not exactly, but close. Anyway, what made you say that?”
“Say what?”
She cleared her throat, scrunched her brows, and mimicked his serious tone.
“Even hard workers need rest. You’ve been amazing lately.”
Two seconds of silence.
Then, seeing his expression darken, she covered her mouth and burst out laughing.
“Hahaha, spot on, right?”
Alan shot her a flat look.
“I’m starting to regret this. Maybe you need extra training tomorrow.”
“Uh…”
Her smile froze.
After a moment, she asked cautiously, “Is there a bonus for early training?”
“Fail the training and I’ll dock your pay.”
“Tch.”
Nozomi clicked her tongue, a flicker of this is dangerous crossing her face.
Then her eyes softened. She tilted her head slightly, lips curving.
“Alan… could you be a little nicer to me?”
The expression—so reminiscent of Akari Hojo—caught him off guard.
Alan schooled his features and replied flatly, “Don’t even think about it.”
“Special course fee,” he added. “Five hundred thousand yen. Deducted.”
Even as she listened to him fine her—and could clearly tell he was annoyed—Nozomi Sakura felt an inexplicable rush of satisfaction.
If she had to describe it, it felt better than finally relieving a week-long bout of constipation in one glorious moment.
Then panic struck.
“Eh?!”
Her lips parted in disbelief.
“Why? I practiced in front of the mirror forever! I only met her once, and I copied her perfectly! Instead of rewarding me, you’re charging me?!”
“I didn’t zero out your account. Be grateful.”
Alan glanced sideways. “And honestly? It wasn’t that close.”
“Huh?”
Nozomi narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
Alan met her gaze, his tone serious now.
“An actor’s first responsibility is presence and image. Technique comes second. If the audience doesn’t believe you are the character, no amount of skill matters.”
“You’re beautiful, but you don’t have Hojo’s aura. Even if your expressions were identical, it wouldn’t work.”
So you really have her etched into your heart…
Nozomi pressed her finger until it hurt, then lifted her coffee for a slow sip.
When she looked up again, her smile was radiant.
“So when I played you just now, I couldn’t pull off that cold-blooded vibe either, huh?”
“If I were truly cold-blooded,” Alan replied dryly, “you’d be completely broke by now.”
He rolled his eyes. “That said, you’re improving. A lot. But changing your aura at will, that’s a long road.”
He’d already evaluated her.
She could copy surface expressions.
Mastering presence would put her at Expert. Fully disappearing into a role, that was Grandmaster territory.
“Oh.” Nozomi nodded slowly, thoughtful.
Then she tilted her head. “So why do you sound like you know more than I do? Don’t tell me you’ve been reading acting theory too.”
Alan smiled faintly, his gaze steady.
“If I didn’t study, how could I walk this road with you?”
Relying on the system and Nozomi’s effort alone wasn’t enough, not if he wanted results as quickly as possible.
He devoured acting manuals, dissected psychology textbooks, reread them again and again.
Only by anticipating every obstacle she might face could he adjust the plan in time, better to fix the roof before the rain came.
When he guided Nino, he’d taken up kendo alongside her and grown to love it.
He wasn’t a master, but he could stand among the upper ranks. He couldn’t take on ten opponents at once, but he was still formidable.
All of it came from relentless effort.
When training Akari Hojo, he’d buried himself in music theory with the same obsession.
Unfortunately, he’d hit a wall there, his tone-deaf ear made anything beyond theory impossible.
Beyond skills, he also studied the industry itself. Trends. Market timing. What kind of work caught fire, and why.
Each girl needed a different path. A precise, rational route to stardom.
He’d done it for Nino Kitagawa.
He’d done it for Akari Hojo.
Experience stacked upon experience.
Turning someone into a star was far more complicated than people imagined.
It demanded every ounce of focus, planning, and passion he had.
“If I don’t study all this,” Alan said quietly, “how could I walk forward with you?”
