chsdbacks Page 125
Page 125
It is this voice that has conquered the entire industry over the past five years.
Nanami Aoyama.
This name is now undoubtedly a top superstar in the voice acting industry.
Years of experience have given her eyes a sense of maturity and depth, and her every move exudes confidence and composure in commanding the room.
Starting with the Newcomer of the Year award, she won almost every voice acting award she could get, becoming the role model for countless junior voice actors.
As I stepped out of the recording studio, my manager, Ms. Yamamoto, immediately greeted me, offering me warm water and a schedule.
"Nanami, you've worked hard. You're in great shape today." Yamamoto's face was beaming with pride.
"At 3 PM, I have a cover shoot and interview for Animedia; at 5 PM, I'm going to the launch event for SKI Games' new title; and in the evening, there's a dinner hosted by the game's production company..."
"Hmm." Nanami took the water glass and listened calmly.
Her life has long been filled with such an airtight schedule.
Behind the glamour lies an enormous workload and immense mental pressure.
"Oh, right." Yamamoto suddenly remembered something, took out a document from his bag, and his tone became somewhat excited.
"This is an endorsement offer from Kinosaki Products. They want you to be the spokesperson for their latest chocolate in Asia, and the endorsement fee is nine figures."
"They specifically requested you, saying your cool and intellectual temperament perfectly matches their product positioning."
It's yet another job unrelated to voice acting itself, but with astonishing commercial value.
In recent years, as her fame has grown, she has received more and more such invitations.
The agency was naturally pleased with this, believing it to be the maximization of her commercial value.
Nanami flipped through the proposal; her photo and various fancy promotional slogans were printed on the beautifully printed pages.
She didn't agree immediately, but simply said, "Let me think about it first, and I'll give you an answer later."
Yamamoto was somewhat surprised, but still nodded. "Okay, but they're in a bit of a rush, so they hope we can get it done as soon as possible..."
"I understand," Nanami interrupted her.
Back in the van, Nanami leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.
The noise was shut out of the car window, and a feeling of exhaustion washed over me like a tide.
She has been feeling numb lately, especially after completing some routine tasks.
The high-intensity, high-exposure work made her feel like a precisely programmed puppet, switching between different masks in different situations.
She began to worry that one day, with frequent commercial activities and interviews, she might lose her most genuine sensitivity to her voice and her ability to imbue characters with soul.
Just then, her phone vibrated in her pocket; it was a schedule reminder.
"Yoto-kun, another year has passed."
Upon seeing this note that only she could understand, Nanami's previously tense face instantly softened.
She opened her eyes and said to the driver, "Please don't go to the photography studio first, go to the cemetery in the port area instead."
Yamamoto paused for a moment, "Nanami? Is it the afternoon's filming..."
“There’s still time.” Nanami’s tone left no room for argument.
Forty minutes later, the car stopped outside the cemetery.
Nanami changed into an elegant black dress and went inside alone.
Passing through rows of solemn tombstones, she found herself at a secluded corner.
A clean tombstone stood there quietly, engraved with the name "Wuhe Youdou".
In front of the monument, there is a bunch of freshly planted white lilies.
It must have been Yuto's relatives who came by.
As Nanami thought to herself, she gently put down the other bunch of baby's breath she had brought.
She didn't disturb the bouquet of lilies, but simply placed the two bouquets together.
She knelt down and gently wiped away the non-existent dust from the tombstone with a handkerchief.
"Yuto-kun, I'm here." Her voice was soft. "Sorry I'm a little late this year too. I've been a bit busy lately."
She sat down against the tombstone and, as if chatting with an old friend, began to recount the events of the past year.
“Last month, Director Takahashi’s new theatrical film was released and did very well at the box office. I voiced a very talkative robot character in it, which was completely different from the roles he had given me before, and it was very interesting.”
"He's still the same as ever, he doesn't hold back when he yells at people in the recording studio, but I know it's because he has high expectations of me."
"By the way, I won the Best Actress in a Voice Actress award again this year. At the awards ceremony, I said the same thing again, thanking that 'Mr. X'."
“Now the industry is almost treating ‘Mr. X’ as a legend, and people are even writing fan fiction. Isn’t that hilarious?” A bitter smile appeared on her lips.
"They don't know that the omnipotent 'Mr. X' is actually just a gentle fool who likes to read, likes quiet, and will lend a hand when I need it most."
She paused, took out a small player from her bag, plugged in the earphones, and gently placed one of the earbuds against the cold tombstone.
"This is a radio drama I recently recorded, called 'The Monologue of the Wind,' which tells the story of a traveler."
"I think you'll like it. Listen to my standard pronunciation. Isn't it a little more standard than it was in high school?"
The wind rustled through the cemetery, the leaves whispering as if someone were responding softly.
Nanami closed her eyes and listened quietly to her own voice and the sound of the wind in the player.
At that moment, she felt as if she had briefly broken free from the glamorous shell of "top voice actress Nanami Aoyama" and returned to being the simple girl who was striving for her dream.
She quietly told him about her work troubles, the encroachment of commercialization, and the creative block she was facing.
It's as if simply speaking out here will bring comfort and answers.
“They all say I’m the most successful voice actor, but sometimes I feel lost, Yuto-kun.”
"I don't know if the path I'm on now is the same path you hoped I would take." She leaned against the tombstone, her voice somewhat fragile.
“I’m afraid I’ll become a voice that’s all skill and no soul.”
She took out the chocolate endorsement contract and placed it in front of the tombstone.
“Nine figures, that’s a lot of money. It could get you into the best hospitals in the world and hire the best doctors, but… it’s no use now.” Her voice choked with emotion.
"If I had to choose, I'd rather not have any of these things. All I want is for you... to sit across from me and listen to me."
The sunlight shines through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled shadows.
Nanami sat there quietly until the sun set.
As she left, she bowed deeply to the tombstone.
"Yuto-kun, thank you. I know what to do now."
Back in her car, she immediately dialed Yamamoto's number.
"Ms. Yamamoto, please help me cancel my endorsement deal with the Kinosaki Products (一〨」) 〆零?妻8俬?崎（四）巫溜".
Yamamoto's shocked voice came from the other end of the phone: "What? Nanami, are you crazy? This is..."
"Turn it down." Nanami's tone was calm and firm. "Also, in principle, I will no longer accept any purely commercial endorsements that are unrelated to voice acting work."
"Also, please keep an eye out for me, as I'm thinking of setting up a personal studio."
"A studio?!" Yamamoto's voice rose eight octaves. "Why? Is the company treating you badly? Are you going solo?"
"It's not about going solo, I just want to be more focused." Nanami looked out the window at the rapidly receding street scene, her eyes unusually clear.
“I want to help some people in my own way, just like…someone helped me before.”
She thought this was the best way to repay Yuto.
It's not about standing in the spotlight and receiving cheers from the crowd.
Instead, she wanted to pass on the kindness and hope he gave her, so that more young people like her could have the opportunity to pursue their own "voice of the star".
……
The news of her refusing a nine-figure endorsement deal and announcing the establishment of her own studio caused a huge uproar within the agency.
In the conference room, several senior executives of the company took turns to persuade Aoyama Nanami from various angles, including business value, career planning, and industry risks.
Mr. Tanaka, who predicted she would regret it back then, has now been promoted to a senior executive and is now looking at her with great regret.
"Nanami, you're at the pinnacle of the industry now, and you have to be extremely careful with every step you take! Setting up your own studio? Do you know what that means?"
"You'll have to bear all the risks yourself, and you'll have to deal with the most tedious tax and legal issues. You won't have time to focus on voice acting!"
"And those endorsements, they're symbols of your popularity! They're the foundation of your commercial value! If you reject Kinosaki, the next brand will hesitate to take your place—it's a chain reaction!"
Faced with these barrage of questions, Nanami simply listened quietly.
If it were five years ago, when she had just rejected idolization, she might still feel nervous and pressured.
But now, her heart is as calm as still water.
After everyone had finished speaking, she slowly said, "I appreciate everyone's kindness, but my mind is made up."
She stood up, looked around at everyone in the conference room, and gave a slight bow.
“I am not terminating my contract with the company. After the studio is established, my agency contract will remain with the company, and I will still be a member of the company.”
"However, I hope that in the future I will have absolute autonomy in choosing my work content, especially non-voice-over work."
"As for the studio, its purpose is not to make a profit, nor is it to go solo. I've already thought of its name: 'Voice of the Stars'."
"Voice of a Star?" Tanaka frowned.
“Yes.” Nanami looked out the window. “I want to use this studio to help newcomers like I was back then, who have talent and dreams, but are struggling at the bottom because of a lack of resources and opportunities.”
“I will personally serve as an instructor to provide them with professional training, and use my existing network to secure audition opportunities for them.”
Her words stunned everyone present.
They considered countless possibilities, but none of them imagined that she would forgo the enormous profits that were within her grasp to do this thankless "charity."
"This...this is too idealistic!" someone couldn't help but say.
"Perhaps." Nanami smiled, a smile that held a sense of relief and determination that they couldn't understand.
"But my life started with the most unrealistic dream, and I just want to pass on the kindness I received back then."
Ultimately, the company compromised due to Nanami's insistence.
They cannot afford to lose this cash cow, and they dare not completely break ties with a top voice actor who has a huge influence and voice in the industry.
They agreed to her proposal on the condition that the operation of the studio would not affect her basic work as an artist under the company.
This matter quickly reached Shinsuke Takahashi's ears.
After a recording session ended, Takahashi called out to Nanami, who was about to leave.
"Hey, Aoyama." He handed over a can of coffee, his expression as cold and hard as ever.
"Director Takahashi." Nanami took the coffee, somewhat surprised.
"I heard you turned down the order from Kinosaki and started something called 'Voices of a Distant Star'?" Takahashi leaned against the wall and pulled the tab on his coffee can.
“…Yes.” Nanami was a little nervous, unsure of what he wanted to say.
Takahashi took a sip of coffee and nodded in agreement, saying, "You haven't been blinded by money and fame."
He paused, looked at Nanami, and a rare hint of approval flashed in his sharp eyes.
"In this industry, the higher you climb, the more temptations you face, and very few can stay true to themselves."
"Your studio sounds like a losing proposition."
“I didn’t expect it to make money,” Qi Hai said softly.
"Yes." Takahashi nodded. "Have you chosen the address?"
"Still looking at it."
“I own a place that used to be a rehearsal space for a small theater troupe. The soundproofing is still there, and it’s a quiet place. If you’re looking for somewhere to go, you can take a look.” He took out a business card from his pocket and handed it to Qi Hai.
"The rent... let's calculate it based on the standard you use to pay new employees."
Nanami was stunned, staring at the business card in his hand, speechless for a moment.
This most demanding and unapproachable sound supervisor in the industry was actually supporting her seemingly whimsical decision in his own way.