socalfunplaces Page 126
Page 126
“…Thank you, Director Takahashi.” Her eyes welled up with tears.
"No need to thank me." Takahashi awkwardly turned his head away.
"I just don't want to see a promising talent turn into a product that can only smile foolishly at the camera. Get out of here, don't keep me from getting off work."
After saying that, he left without looking back.
……
The sign for the "Voice of a Star" studio was personally hung up by Nanami Aoyama.
It was a piece of walnut wood with "Studio Seishin"—the Romanized name for "The Voice of the Stars"—carved on it in simple lettering.
The studio is located in that "shabby place in Suginami Ward" that Shinsuke Takahashi mentioned.
In fact, this place is far from dilapidated.
It is hidden in a quiet alley and was originally a rehearsal space for a small theater troupe.
Takahashi practically rented it out to Nanami, giving it away for free.
The old soundproof walls were renovated and equipped with top-of-the-line recording equipment, while the other half of the space was transformed into a bright lecture hall and rest area.
During the months of preparation, the manager, Ms. Yamamoto, never relaxed her eyebrows.
Every day, she calculates the costs of those expensive equipment and renovations, and then compares them with the sky-high endorsement deals that Nanami turned down, feeling as if her own flesh has been cut off.
"Nanami, I'm saying this one last time," Nanami finally couldn't hold back as she handed the first batch of admission brochures to Yamamoto.
“Are we really going to do something so thankless? This money is enough to buy you a villa with a private beach in Hawaii.”
"Ms. Yamamoto." Nanami was wiping a brand new mixing console without looking up. "I prefer the smell of dust here to the beach."
"...What a quirk." Yamamoto muttered under his breath, but resignedly took the brochure and began contacting channels to publish it.
The release of the admission brochure sent shockwaves through the entire industry.
Top voice actress Nanami Aoyama, at the peak of her career, idly opened a studio aimed at nurturing new talent.
The news spread like wildfire, and the studio's registration email address was flooded with messages almost instantly.
However, the first round of auditions dealt Nanami a heavy blow.
The interview took place in the studio's lecture hall.
Nanami sat behind the long table, next to Yamamoto, who had a serious expression.
Across the long table, one young person after another walked in and out.
"Mr. Aoyama! I'm your biggest fan! I've loved you ever since 'Beyond the Stars'!" a stylishly dressed girl exclaimed excitedly, then recited her lines in an imitation of "Ella's" tone.
Nanami's comment was: "Thank you for your appreciation, but 'Isla' doesn't talk like that. Next."
"Nanami-senpai, I... I've watched all your interviews. You said the most important thing for a voice actor is the soul! I feel my soul is ready!" A passionate young man puffed out his chest and then performed a monologue in an exaggerated theatrical style.
Nanami's assessment was: "The soul isn't something you shout out. Next."
The situation remained largely the same for the next few days.
Of the people who come, 90% are her die-hard fans, while the remaining 10% see this place as a shortcut to entering the entertainment industry.
They imitated her, speculated about her, and tried to please her by using her past roles, but no one truly showed their own voice.
Yamamoto watched from the side, his face growing increasingly grim.
She lowered her voice: "Nanami, is this the 'talented newcomer' you wanted? I think they just want to use you as a stepping stone."
Nanami didn't say anything, but simply picked up her water glass and took a sip.
A hint of disappointment, which she herself was unaware of, flashed across her eyes.
She believed that there would always be someone like herself back then, who came purely out of passion.
For three consecutive days, I interviewed nearly 300 people, but I didn't get any offers.
Yamamoto has already begun drafting a plan to transform the studio into a fan club.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, the last interviewee walked in.
He was a somewhat rustic-looking boy, wearing a faded school uniform, thin and wiry, nervously clutching the hem of his clothes.
His voice was thick with a Northeastern accent as soon as he opened his mouth.
"Hello, teacher, my name is Sato Kaito... I, I come from Aomori Prefecture."
His voice was low and trembling slightly with nervousness.
Yamamoto frowned, glanced at his watch subconsciously, and was already preparing to end this meaningless day early.
"Sato-kun," Nanami's voice was calm, "Don't be nervous, have some water. Are you ready?"
"Yes!" The boy nodded heavily, took a deep breath, and began to read the script in his hand.
It was a very simple narration describing the forest at dawn.
His standard Mandarin pronunciation was very awkward, with a very obvious accent, and he even cracked a few words due to nervousness.
Yamamoto had already impatiently drawn an X on the form.
However, Nanami stopped him.
"Sato-kun."
"Yes!" The boy was startled, thinking he was about to be kicked out, and his face turned bright red.
Nanami didn't look at the script, but looked into his eyes and asked a completely unrelated question: "Have you ever seen a forest at four in the morning?"
The young man was stunned.
Yamamoto was also stunned.
This problem... seems familiar.
Back then, in Shinsuke Takahashi's recording studio, Nanami was asked a similar question.
The boy didn't answer immediately; he lowered his head, as if recalling something.
After a while, he raised his head, his eyes no longer filled with tension, but with a distant and serene look.
"I've met you." His voice still had an accent, but it no longer trembled.
"It was still dark, but I could smell the dew and the earth. It was very cold, and the sound of the wind blowing through the leaves was different from that during the day."
"The birds haven't woken up yet, and occasionally you can hear insects chirping in the distance. As the sky gradually brightens, you'll feel... the whole world is yours."
He spoke slowly, as if describing a painting.
The classroom was completely silent.
Looking at the boy, Yamamoto suddenly felt that the rustic air about him had disappeared.
His voice has an unpolished quality, a vivid imagery derived from real life.
“Alright.” Nanami nodded and pushed the script forward. “Now, forget the standard language, forget the pronunciation, and use the feeling you had just experienced to ‘say’ this passage to me again.”
The boy picked up the script again.
This time, he closed his eyes.
When he spoke again, his voice seemed to carry the crisp, misty air of a forest at dawn.
His accent is still there, but it is no longer a flaw; rather, it is like a unique mark that gives the words the most simple and genuine vitality.
The sound carried the wind, the dew, and the unique tranquility and anticipation before dawn.
Yamamoto's pen stopped in mid-air.
She looked at the boy in front of her, then at Nanami beside her.
On Nanami's face, she saw a complex expression she hadn't seen in a long time—a mixture of relief, excitement, and even a hint of nostalgia.
She seemed to see a Kansai girl from many years ago who failed the audition due to nervousness, but then unleashed amazing potential at the crucial moment.
After the performance, the boy looked at Nanami nervously.
Nanami stood up, walked up to him, and extended her hand to him.
"Welcome to 'Voices of a Star,' Sato Kaito."
The boy's eyes instantly reddened. He bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle and shouted with all his might, "Yes! Thank you, teacher!"
After the boy left excitedly, Yamamoto came to her senses. She looked at Nanami and said in a complicated tone, "You... you've just decided? A country boy with such a heavy accent? The cost of training him is too high."
“Miss Yamamoto.” Nanami walked to the window, looked at the quiet alley outside, and said softly.
"Back then, some people thought that raising a stubborn girl with an incorrigible Kansai accent was too costly."
"But he did it anyway."
Yamamoto fell silent.
She knew who "he" Nanami was referring to.
"Don't worry," Nanami turned around, her face beaming with a clear smile, "The first student of 'Voice of the Stars' won't let you down."
……
Volume 1: Chapter 129: "The Sickly Boy and the Girl Chasing Her Dreams" (End)
The training courses at "Voice of a Star" are unlike any other talent show in the industry.
There are no courses here on how to build a persona, how to deal with the media, or how to interact with fans on social networks.
Nanami's classes consist of only the purest and most tedious voice training.
“Sato, your breathing is unstable. Your voice is floating in the air, without any foundation. Go back and practice short, explosive sounds against the wall a thousand times to find the feeling of generating power from your dantian.”
"Suzuki, your emotions are so fake. You're 'acting' sadness, not 'feeling' it."
"Go sit in the convenience store downstairs for an hour and observe the people who come to buy things late at night. See what kind of fatigue they look like. Submit an observation report to me next week."
“Takahashi… no, Takada-kun, your problem is that you have too much technique and too little emotion.”
"Don't always think about how to use fancy vibrato to embellish sentences. Try to use the most plain voice to say a sentence that touches people's hearts."
Nanami's teaching style is a combination of Shinsuke Takahashi and herself.
She possesses the same sharp eye and uncompromising strictness as Takahashi, always able to pinpoint the most fundamental problems of her students.
But her words also contained a patience and guidance that Takahashi lacked.
She doesn't give direct answers, but rather, like "Mr. X" did in his emails back then, she poses a question or a direction, allowing students to think, experience, and find their own answers.
Sato Kaito was the most hardworking of all, but also the one who got the worst scolding.
His accent was the biggest obstacle, and Nanami devised a standard language correction training program for him that was practically hellish.
Every morning, before Tokyo has fully awakened, Sato is already on the terrace of his studio, reciting tongue twisters over and over again.
He was discouraged by his slow progress and at one point wanted to give up.
That night, he hid alone in the recording studio, feeling depressed.
Nanami found him, but instead of giving him any grand pronouncements, she simply handed him an old MP3 player.
"Listen to this."
Sato put on his headphones, and a girl's voice came through them.
The voice, thick with Kansai dialect, was struggling to practice the standard Mandarin lines, over and over again, filled with an indomitable stubbornness.
“This is…” Sato looked up in surprise.
“This is a recording from my high school days.” Nanami leaned against the door, her voice soft. “Back then, everyone thought it was impossible for me to change my Kansai accent, and I was almost ready to give up myself.”
"So... how did the teacher persevere?"
“Because someone told me that dialect is not a defect, but your root. When you truly understand and master your ‘root,’ you can more accurately control the ‘branches and leaves’ you want to express.” Nanami looked at Sato with gentle eyes.
"He told me not to 'eliminate' my accent, but to 'understand' the fundamental differences between it and standard language in terms of pronunciation and muscle use. When you can switch between them freely, you have truly mastered the language."
These words were almost a direct copy of the original words from "Mr. X's" email back then.
Sato listened in a daze, as if illuminated by a ray of light.
Looking at the radiant, top-tier voice actress before him, he realized for the first time that she, too, had a past as wretched as his own.