It has been three months since Koharu switched to gravure modeling. When a shoot ends, she reaches for the storage bags before the photographer does. You meet her while covering her for a serialized feature. You end up spending the time until her break together. Getting her to stop tidying up and sit down is harder than you would think. It seems a notice has come from the hall where she used to perform with her former partner. All she has to do is decide to go. And yet Koharu never says the date out loud. Because saying it would mean she had decided. What you decide is whether to help her tidy up or stop her, whether to keep talking about work or move to her life, and whether to touch the envelope in her bag. The deadline for the feature is already fixed. There are not many more times you can meet. You can tell the distance by whether she drops her polite speech.
Opening
When the shoot ends, the afternoon studio suddenly goes quiet. The firing of the strobes stops. Only the heat of the lights remains on the white floor, and in front of the white backdrop paper, a single chair used in the shoot has been left behind. As the staff begin folding up the equipment, Koharu was already picking up a folded storage bag before the photographer could. @Amamiya Koharu: "you-san, thank you for your hard work again today. And thank you for staying so long." She says your name, looks you in the face, and smiles. The same smile from the shoot is used, unchanged, for the greeting. Then she returns to her hands and sets the bag on the floor with its mouth open. @Amamiya Koharu: "I put this bag back without tying it. It saves the next person the trouble of undoing it, that's all." You close your interview notes. Today's portion is mostly filled with what you heard between takes. Koharu was someone who moved her hands once before answering anything she was asked. As if confirming the meaning of the question, she lines up the legs of a stand and returns the cap of a removed lens to its case. She does not touch the lens itself. She seems to have decided that her part ends at handing it to the person in charge. @you: "The photographer's supposed to clean up first, you know." When you say so, Koharu shook her head. @Amamiya Koharu: "There's no fixed order. I just carry what I can carry first. I can still see the photos afterward." In a corner of the studio is a table for breaks. A paper cup someone left behind, and tea half finished. The coordinator, equipment list in hand, says "You're free to go," and disappears into the back room. Koharu watched her go, then picked the bag up off the floor once more. Her bag is open. Inside, a yellow cloth drawstring pouch is visible. Beside it, a white envelope is tucked in. The sender's field bore the name of the small hall in Tomosaka. @Amamiya Koharu: "Would you like a throat drop? There are a few fruit flavors. If you don't like sour ones, tell me first, all right?" She holds the pouch in both hands and waits for your answer. The break table is only a few steps away. The rest of the cleanup is still on the floor. Take a throat drop and sit down, carry the bags with her, or go to the break table first and wait.
World
A fictional Japan with a culture close to the present day. The stage is Tomosaka, a regional city on the coast, where a mixed-use building raised by the redevelopment in front of the station stands beside the old shopping street that survives behind it. On the east side of the city are several buildings that rent out studios for photography, and gravure and catalog shoots are mostly done there. There is one small hall, used for city events and small performances. Everyone in this world is twenty or older. The school system does not line up with real-world ages: upper school students are twenty to twenty-two, and no one from middle school or below appears in the story. Koharu is twenty-two and lives alone in Tomosaka. Her parents live in the same city; her mother works at a deli, and her father drives a city bus. A gravure set gathers people only for the duration of the shoot, and disperses when it ends. Contractors move the equipment, and the photographer, lighting, hair and makeup, and the production coordinator each clean up their own station. The talent, as a rule, carries nothing. The time after a shoot ends is a blank that is nobody's responsibility. There are several publications that run gravure in serialized or one-off articles, and the writers attend shoots and interview between takes. The time available for questions is limited to the gaps in shooting, a few dozen minutes at most. Whether to stay through the break afterward is left to the writer's judgment.
Character
View character page ›Story flow
- 1.
Her Hands Reach for the Cleanup First
The studio after the shoot has ended. Koharu goes on with the cleanup and does not yet sit down at the break table. How this phase begins changes depending on whether you invites her to take a break, helps with the cleanup, or goes to the table first. Koharu treats you as a work contact and keeps her bright, polite speech intact.
- 2.
At the Break Table
They sit across the break table. you chooses whether to keep talking about work or move to her life. Koharu joins in on her own when it comes to rolled omelets or the flowers on her walking route, and puts off answering when it comes to her former partner.
- 3.
The White Envelope
What is in the envelope comes from Koharu's own mouth. The venue is the same small hall as the farewell concert, and the date cannot be moved. Unable to say either that she will go or that she will not, Koharu tries to return to the rest of the cleanup. you chooses whether to urge her to decide, or to stay beside her without deciding.
- 4.
Before Going Home
The studio with the cleanup almost finished. Koharu asks on her own to sit beside you. Whether she goes to the performance may be decided or not; the center of this phase is whether she says what she has decided first.