1. “A-chan”

The featureless building blended in with all the rest. Modern, clean office buildings, in a typical commercial district of the city, that could have been any one of hundreds more just like it. Some of the buildings disappeared into the sky, though this one was a little more modest. Most, had a clean and inviting entrance. Clear glass facades with a view to a smiling receptionist within, huge decals of the corporate logo proudly claiming their position as a prosperous business, in an area with exorbitant rental costs. The only thing that made this particular one stand out was the dark shaded glass, obscuring a view within completely, and lack of proud corporate display whatsoever. It didn’t want to invite visitors, and was just fine privately doing its business without you, thank you very much. I would have been completely intimidated from approaching it, but thankfully I was expected. If it was indeed the correct place.
“112. Cover.” said a clean brushed metal plaque by the door. That was all it said. Not even a “Corp.”, not an “Inc.” nor a “Ltd.” to go with it. If the intention was to not invite attention or show off their presence here at all, I’d say they were succeeding so far. I knew however, from prior knowledge and my own research, it was a privately owned Corporation, backed by venture capital.
There was a button, one assumed to buzz the receptionist inside, a grill that probably housed a microphone/speaker system, and a small slot I could guess read the RF chips in a security keycard to let staff in.
I pressed the button.
Nothing happened. The button clicked smoothly, I was sure I activated it, but I didn’t hear any kind of buzz, nor saw any kind of LED light up. I took a few paces back, and surveyed the entrance again. The same featureless, black-tinted glass looked back all the same, with absolute disregard for my presence. I was barely reflected in it. Yup. Wasn’t exactly sure what I was expecting. I did this time however notice a neatly potted plant at the foot of the small set of three steps leading to the entrance; Hydrangea I think, pale blue and white flowers.
The large door suddenly clicked, and opened inward slightly. The small face of a woman peered out, much lower down than I was expecting, though it was very hard to gauge perspective with so few features. She had a sharp bob haircut that fell to about her shoulders, a powder blue ribbon tied neatly at the back, and black rimmed glasses. A lanyard swung from her neck.
“Y-yes? Are you expected?” she said, a hint of exasperation in her voice, as if my being here hadn’t already been meticulously planned in advance, which I assure you it had. If this was indeed the right building.
Almost comically so, she was the picture of a stereotypical Japanese receptionist, at least in my mind. Well groomed, professional looking. She was plain and not overly made-up, though I could certainly say she was attractive. Very pretty, in fact. The only thing that completely threw off this stereotype; her polite greeting could really use some work.
“Sorry, yes, well, I’m-” I stammered back at her, stuffing my hands into my pockets and remembering to retrieve the letter containing details about my business here. A stupid mistake not to have it at the ready, but this whole experience had already messed with my expectations of a typical ‘first day on the job’. No bright and inviting reception area, no plush leather sofa to wait on, coffee brought to me, “Right this way, sir” and all that. At least she looked the part.
“Ohh, I think I recall…” she said, before taking the letter and carefully looking it through. “You’ll have to excuse me, worked off my feet right now, and we don’t really have HR here” she continued, going over the letter without looking up, the sun glinting off her glasses. “Yes, yes, I was told about this. Please”. She opened up the door and gestured me inside with the slightest bow. I bowed ever so slightly back before continuing in - When in Rome.

Her shoes clicked across a cream tiled floor ahead of me. Plain black flats. Slim blue jeans hugged her slight figure tightly and stopped just above the ankles, and she wore a thin black blazer jacket, the arms scrunched up to her elbows, over a pale blue blouse. Smart enough, yet certainly much more casual than the full suit & tie brigade that made up this prosperous district of Tokyo.
“Your postman must hate you guys”, I ventured in jest as we approached a reception desk. She looked back at me quizzically. “I was lucky to find this place”. Come to think of it, I don’t even remember a letterbox at the entrance. She smiled.
“Ah, Ms. Yuujin, by the way. You can just call me A-chan”. She leaned casually over the reception desk and started gathering up a clipboard and some papers from it.
There was a computer setup, a messy desk full of papers. A lamp, and another small pot of the same flowers as the entrance here. I think I eyed a small DAB radio. Though no one manned it to greet us with the practised grace of a corporate receptionist, at this time. This area was fairly large, as you’d expect, similarly plain and unassuming as the outside, it was also quiet. No bustle of people hurriedly going to and fro on assuredly very important business, no constant wail of telephone rings or clatter of keyboards typing. Off to the side I saw a sofa, though it looked a little shabby, more like something someone had brought from home, than a corporate show-piece. It looked out of place here. Beyond, down the corridors, I saw a few glass doored offices, the silhouettes of a few people working inside occasionally moved past like shadows.

Though my experience so far had been slightly atypical to say the least, I suppose it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise. Cover Corp. was a talent agency for “virtual idols” after all. Internet streamers, singers, entertainers - protected behind the privacy of their virtual avatars. Whilst the corporate buildings around me were all absorbed no doubt in such abjectly boring activities like “property development”, “insurance broking'', and “financial advice”, all alien and vague terms to me, something much more interesting was happening here. The building here housed a variety of activities suited for this unique line of work. Among them was a little office work of course, the usual admin duties and corporate departments required from any large business, taken up by people like Ms. Yuujin, I supposed. Whilst the talents could do most of their job from home, they would also be called in here often for recordings, for creative meetings, and planning. That meant recording studios and meeting rooms for the talent and creative teams. The company rented a full VR recording stage offsite elsewhere, and had relationships with professional music studios in the city (where in fact I had been hooked up with contacts for this job), but simple voice recording work could be done right here in the offices. Due to this place having a variety of talent coming and going, it explained the lack of a public face, and the amount of privacy required on site. I had taken up the position for an I.T & Studio Technician here. I had experience as a sound engineer, working in recording studios as well as live events, but also a background in computer hardware. Most modern studios were all digital and ran through computers these days, so my mix of skills were perfectly suited. I would be a general I.T dogsbody, fixing gremlins in office computers as well as sound recording equipment, and helping with the technical aspects of recordings. That suited me just fine. Playing with racks of compressors and EQs, fixing audio chains, setting up mixing boards, that was a fun day of work if you ask me.

“Nodoka-chan, perfect, just a moment” A-chan called out. She had noticed another young woman rushing through reception behind me. Another smart-but-not-too-so woman came over, also holding onto a clipboard. She was slightly fuller-figured compared to A-chan, and her large chest heaved wonderfully through a light green cardigan. She also wore a lanyard, hers cutely decorated with a little cartoon frog keychain. Lanyards were ‘in’, at Cover Corp. offices, I see. “Now, this…” A-chan began reorganising the papers on Nodoka’s clipboard, pulling ones from the back and putting them at the top. Underlining some things with a blue ballpoint pen, whilst putting a line through others. “If you could take care of those first instead, thanks, Nodoka-chan. I have to show around our new Tech-guy”, she presented me proudly. Nodoka smiled warmly and let out a hand to shake mine.
“Of course, I’ll take care of it. And welcome to you, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Nodoka.” Her voice was gentle, an air of reserved shyness. She seemed nice, a reliable helping hand for A-chan.

2. “Yamato”

“So, that’s most of the boring stuff.” A-chan said as she had finished showing me around the main offices on the ground floor, now leading me back towards reception “but if you ever get called down to fix a computer in ‘4A’ or ‘5A’ and so on, thats all down here”.
So far in our little tour, I realised just how attractive A-chan’s accent and manner of speaking were. She was reserved and professional, but her innocent, girlish charm and excitement slipped out whenever the subject moved on to speaking about the actual talent and entertainment side of her work. More pertinently though, how clearly she was an earnest and hard-worker, completely respected and relied upon by everyone here. It was an alluring mix. In my short time here so far, it seemed A-chan ran the place. We couldn’t pass a single office without some office worker or another flagging her down to request assistance.
“Not now”, she would tell them “I promise I’ll get to it, or if you see Nodoka…”
Back at reception, we made our way to an elevator in a corner I hadn’t noticed before. “Now we can get to the good stuff” she told me with a small laugh, her voice lighting up with that charming excitement again.
Inside the elevator, things were typical for the building so far, unnervingly plain and featureless. Brushed metal. Plain fittings. Of course, the big reveal of A-chan’s excitement was waiting at the other end of this elevator ride, not inside of it. The board of numbers in the elevator were slightly odd, I noticed buttons printed for ‘1, 2’, but then the rest were blank until you got to ‘6’. A-chan punched us in to head to floor 6; I didn’t ask where the rest of them were.
She let out a sigh, and brushed her hair back, adjusting the ribbon on her head slightly. She seemed to relax a little now, away from the “boring” part of the building.
“When I’m on an all nighter here, I make my home at that desk down at reception, that’s where you’ll find me. But I wish I could stay up here where the fun stuff happens”.
“Are the flowers yours too? Hydrangea, was it?”
“That’s right!” she beamed.

The elevator pinged, and opened up to our destination. Up here, it certainly was another world. The colour hit me, in stark contrast to the plainness downstairs. The walls were blue, everywhere well lit. The walls and many shelves completely strewn with merch from ‘Hololive’, the actual talent arm of Cover Corp. Cute anime girls, plushies, chibi animal mascots smiled at me from every direction. The desks with computers set up were all open plan, a couple of offices were separated but only by clear glass, there were large beanbags on the floor in designated “chill out” areas, a flashy coffee machine. It looked the picture of a young hip tech company office, what you might see in a movie for Google or Facebook. There were many young men and women here, mostly women, all dressed pretty casually, not like office workers. They talked loudly in groups, showing each other scripts and ideas, laughing together, waiting their turn to work the recording booths. The heart and soul of the building was really up here - well hidden, away from prying eyes. Beyond, I saw familiar heavy soundproof doors, labelled “Studio A”, “Studio B”, with the big red ‘Recording’ lights above them. That would be where I would work most of the time.
A young girl hopped up from the beanbags when she saw me enter with A-chan. She had a baggy grey hoody, a scruffy baseball cap with frayed stitching, and clutched tightly to a satchel bag held in front of her.
“Ah, um, Ms. Yuujin. I think I’m done for today. But Ms. Nodoka said to wait for her.” She talked nervously, with her eyes fixed on the floor, like a schoolgirl in trouble with her teachers. And honestly, looked like a teenager who had ran away from home. A-chan ticked something from her clipboard and gave the girl a warm touch on the shoulder.
“No no, you’re done. Thank you so much for your work today. I’ll text you tonight if we need you again tomorrow anyway.”
The girl shuffled a wide, awkward circle around us, eyeing me nervously, and disappeared into the elevator.
“Minato Aqua”, A-chan told me “Lovely girl really, very talented”.

A-chan and I worked the floor, making introductions, everyone seemed pleased to see her. I tried to stay focussed and professional, surrounded by all these charming and talented girls. Many of them were Hololive talent, others were script writers and similar creative types. I understood the etiquette of working behind the scenes in the entertainment industry, working at recording studios, so I kept mostly out of the way. Eventually we made it over to the recording studios.

“Yamato?” A-chan called out to a man, his back to us, hunched over some audio equipment.
“Eeh?” He barely stirred in response.
Faded check shirt, ripped black jeans, and wild black wire-y hair shot out from under a black baseball cap.
“Yamato-san, you’ll be pleased to know your new tech has arrived.”
He bit the lid off a marker pen and spat it aside, now labelling some cables .
“Mhm. Stick it over there.” he mumbled, waving a hand back at us non-chanently. “The MXR-15 crapped out this morning. And someone almost blew the preamps, tell those kids out there the mixing desk is not a toy. Oh! And tell those idiots downstairs to order in some more XLR cables. Good ones, not the cheap shit.”
“Ahem, I meant your new assistant, Yamato.” A-chan reasserted. Though she scribbled his requests down all the same.
“Oh shit!” he let out, finally swinging around in his chair, “Yo!”.

The rest of my morning was spent with Yamato, in the studio. A Bento lunch was even brought to us, by Nodoka. Pretty good too; tamago sushi, salad, and plenty of coffee. I got on just fine with him. He spoke coarsely, no-nonsense. More of a punk attitude, than a corporate professional, which suited me just fine. Recording studios were full of this type. If he ever told me how he used to be in a rock band that totally, almost, made it big, I’d have to feign surprise. We talked shop, going over the audio equipment (most of it familiar enough to me), music (“You gotta check out Chouchou Merged Syrups” he told me, in turn I recommended ‘Tricot’), and generally got the rundown of the studio. Into the afternoon, things would pick up and he’d be busy assisting recordings in Studio A. We decided it best if I was left to get to grips with Studio B, which would be unused today.
“Fix things up if you want, it’s a bit of a mess in here.”
It was, all told, a complete mess. Cables strewn over the floor, labels on the mixing desk were worn and illegible, microphones left out of place. I decided to get to work and put this place in order. ‘Organised chaos’ can work just fine for a one man operation, they understand how to navigate the spaghetti of bad cable management they created. But when you introduce a third-party, the absurdity becomes apparent. The hours disappeared to this task, I had no idea what the time was now. But this place I could now proudly present to Marie Kondo herself.
The door eventually swung open.
“Yo, you can get out of here now, it’s late.” Yamato told me, “see you tomorrow”. I waited a moment for the praise of my excellent clean-up operation. Yamato peered around momentarily. “Shure case? You seen it?”
“Cupboard” I pointed over, “put all the mic cases in there.”
He pulled out one of the plastic cases from the cupboard, and left. Oh well.

Back in the offices, it was darker, and mostly cleared out of people. Out of the windows the sun had just fell, and the sparkles of lights from neighbouring office buildings made like artificial stars. A-chan rose from a desk to greet me, holding up a card, which was held in a blue lanyard like hers.
“All done? Got your staff card here. I’m heading down myself, anyway”.
Another young woman smiled politely at us and waved a short ‘goodbye’ to A-chan before going back to tik-taking at her keyboard, as we headed for the elevator. "Don't stay here all night, Omaru" A-chan told her.
I checked my smartphone, it was 6PM already. We made the ride down in silence. A-chan looked tired, and now I realised just how exhausted I felt. It had been a long first day. In the lobby, I slowly began towards the door, but A-chan instead took a seat at the reception desk.
“Well. Really great to have you aboard. Yamato-san says you know your stuff, he’s pleased.”
“You not getting out of here yourself?”
“Oh, I have a few bits to finish up.” A-chan said with a small sigh, laying out the papers from her clipboard on to the desk, and moving her attention to the computer monitor.
“Do you ever sleep, A-chan?”
She motioned towards the shabby sofa off to the side of the lobby.
Talk about dedication. I made my way home.

3. “Late Nights”

There was more activity around the entrance to the building this morning, since I was arriving at the same time as other staff. It didn’t seem quite so intimidating as yesterday, with other workers sipping their morning coffee and filing inside. A few recognized me from yesterday and met me with a sharp polite nod, at the very least. Mostly the well dressed and rather anonymous-looking staff that made up the downstairs offices. Creative types tended not to be early birds. But I figured I’d get in early today, before recordings started, and work my ‘Marie Kondo’ magic in Studio A this time, as I did with Studio B yesterday.
I recognized Nodoka first, she was chasing people around the lobby, handing out papers from her ever-dutiful clipboard. I caught phrases like “marketing materials”, “publishing deadlines”; business speak beyond my remit. Today I noticed her in a black or perhaps dark navy pencil skirt, showing off slender legs in dark tights. Next, I saw A-chan, already at the reception desk, deep in work. I probably could have headed straight up, but I was drawn to go and greet her first. I’d found myself already looking forward to speaking to her again. The way she handled herself, hard working to a fault yet without losing a certain gentle, feminine aura. Her soft laugh, the large ribbon in her hair that bounced as she walked. The rounded ‘l’s and ‘r’s caused by her accent. It gave the slight impression that she had a toffee in her mouth when speaking, but it was marvellously cute, to me.
“Please tell me you went home last night?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Hmm?” She looked up, the serious look breaking into a smile, “Oh, good morning! Don’t worry, I got a few hours sleep at home. Actually, whilst you’re here…” she stood up suddenly. Today she was just in a loose fitting navy pinstripe blouse, with no jacket, and beige slacks. The large ribbon still bounced with her movements, holding back the longer lengths of her glossy hair. “Help me with something?”

We made our way through to the back of the building, past the downstairs offices, to a rear service entrance. Outside, I noticed her glossy dark hair had an almost purple hue to the highlights when hit by the sun. She was an incredibly petite woman, much shorter than me. The low, scooped neckline of her blouse showed off visible, defined collarbones and slender shoulders, whilst her small breasts barely made an impression underneath the loose fabric. Though her hips did fill her tight slacks and show, delightfully, every curve down to her thighs before loosening off past the knees, they were not particularly wide. Her skin was pale, and very smooth - At a guess I would put her in late 20’s to early 30’s, though I was never a very good judge of that. I noticed a subtle amount of red blusher on her cheekbones, but could not say if she wore much more make-up than that. Women’s cosmetics were not my forté. I could forgive most men if it had been Nodoka that caught their eye. Her meek way of talking, her larger bust. You might even describe A-chan as boyish, too skinny and plain. But everything about her, not just physically, exuded some intangible sexiness, in my estimation.
“Now this one…” she picked up a smaller package that sat atop a larger box by the door outside “I think is for you boys in the studio. But this bigger one needs to go upstairs too.” She looked at me expectantly. The faintest hint of puppy-dog eyes, the look of a woman that needed the help of a man. I bent down and tested the weight. It was large, the size made it awkward, but by no means unmanageable. “I could go grab…” she started, but I heaved it up.
“Get the door then.” I puffed.
“Oh great! Me and Nodoka could barely– Right, let's go!”

A-chan hugged the smaller package to her chest as we rode the elevator, the larger box at our feet. She smiled, as though pleased with herself.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue. Yamato isn’t in ‘till a bit later, so.”
“Oh it’s no problem, call on me anytime. I gotta impress my new boss” I said.
“Your boss?”
“Well, you run the place right A-chan?”
“No, I’m not really anyone’s boss.” she laughed. “I’m… a manager? I do a bit of everything really, and try to keep all the departments on the same page.”
“Seems you really do a wonderful job at it, too.” I told her, earnestly.

Upstairs was much quieter than yesterday, with only a few others milling about, thus far. I dropped the box off where she asked, and in turn she handed me the smaller package.
“Probably something or other for the studio - cables?”
Next, she sat me down at a desk and slid me some papers. They looked to be timetables, with slots for organising who would be using the studio and when, though these ones were blank. “You can get an outline on the schedule from me or Nodoka in the morning, and Yamato will fill you in with changes during the day. It’s not always set in stone, so feel free to make notes and shuffle things around, thats how he usually does it. Just be aware what talent are being called in on that big whiteboard over there, so we can make best use of their time. You’re early today, so it’s not filled in yet”
“Right, yeah, I was gonna give the studio a sort out today before people came in, should keep me busy.” I explained.
“Actually - I was hoping you would work with me, whilst you have some time?” A-chan said. I met her eyes, she’d caught me a bit off guard.
“Uhh. Don’t think I’m up to management duties, just yet.”
“No, not that. Did you know, you’re speaking to the hostess of HoloFM?” she said triumphantly, that same girlish enthusiasm returning to her voice, as it did yesterday whenever she got to talk about the talent and Hololive, rather than the mundane administrative duties.
She explained to me how she had a gig on the official Hololive Youtube channel, talk-show style. Presenting the latest events and big news from the girls. Was there no end to this woman’s work?
“I do the show live myself, afterhours. Just a simple stream setup. But I’d love to get some prerecorded bits, for special promotions and such. That’d really jazz the show up, don’t you think? Like a real radio show.”
“Yeah, I mean, that sounds cool actually, I’d love to help you with that.” I said. Marie Kondo would have to wait.

We got to work in the studio. A-chan was a little nervous at first, and reading the lines was awkward. That’s perfectly natural, when a new person is monitoring you, but I soon lightened her up. I showed her the effects and edits I was able to do, processing her mic through ‘infinite reverb’, ‘ping-pong delay’, and such, which delighted her. You didn’t usually get to bust out these kinds of toys for simple voice recording sessions, so I enjoyed myself too. She wasn’t exactly about to become the next Megumi Hayashibara, or any other legendary seiyuu in Japan, but she had a lot of naive charm in her work. She’d certainly charmed me.
We managed to put together a nice little package of audio for her to use this week, promoting ticket sales for an upcoming virtual show and such, and both agreed we’d like to do it again some time. She already buzzed with ideas, even playing with the idea of doing an official jingle.
“These sound amazing. Keep this up and I’ll have to start crediting you as a HoloFM co-producer!” she beamed.
“Really, no need for that, I’m happy to help.” I told her. “Got me a good handle on the gear in here, too”.

It was already around midday by now, with the upstairs office filling up again, and the day of work had to start proper. I was able to leave things mostly in the charge of Yamato-san today, playing mostly an observer role. I didn’t want to interrupt the flow of things, and again, people could get nervous recording around someone new - even professionals. I watched how things were usually done and just got people used to my presence. Making them feel comfortable, adjusting the boom-arms of microphones for them, headset volumes, even bringing them water. I was never too proud a person for those simple tasks; whatever helped the talent get the job done. I was particularly impressed by the performer who went by ‘Omaru Polka’, whom I’d briefly seen in the office last night - a woman that bounced around, recording lines joyously with frenetic energy. Yamato also showed me how to use the FTP system and get the audio files uploaded where they needed to go for each department on the network. I uploaded A-chan’s work to her folder whilst we were at it. Nodoka brought in lunch again; cucumber and cheese sandwiches, they went down perfectly with black coffee. All in all, an easy day’s work. Despite the heavy lifting.

The day ended with what I could guess would be a familiar sight; A-chan working at her desk in the lobby, whilst the building was now mostly empty.
“Good work today, A-chan” I called over, cheerfully. She stood as she heard me. But then paused awkwardly, she seemed to surprise herself for standing up.
“Y-you too. Ah. I mean. I wanted to say again, really, thank you so much for today.” She seemed a little flustered, but I played it off without drawing attention to it.
“Aw it was fun - Let me guess, late night here again?”
“Well. Yes.” she composed herself, looking slightly sullen, and retook her seat. I decided to stop by her desk before leaving.
“Maybe it’d be easier to ask - is there ever a night you’re not working late?”
“It’s not every night”, she shook her head, looking down at the desk “it’s just a really busy period, there’s a lot going on. I like to have everything here in order before I can switch off… And the company has really grown lately. Which is good, it’s just… So much to do.” She forced a smile at this statement. “And technically I don’t work weekends, so I’m not in here as much then.”
‘As much’.
“But you’re doing OK?” I asked. I’d heard of the Japanese corporate work ethic, it never really sat that comfortably with me.
“I’m OK”. She smiled, a little more genuinely this time. It seemed to help just to have someone ask.
“Alright, hey listen-” I started. It might have been a little bold of me, but we really did seem to have some good chemistry going, even just as mutual workmates “Any time you want, we could go to a quiet bar or something, relax with a few drinks? Yamato tells me there’s a good little yakiniku place here, says the staff sometimes drop in to take the edge off a hard day.”
Her shoulders tightened inwardly, and she fidgeted with her hands locked together between her thighs. I couldn’t really read her body language, perhaps I’d made her uncomfortable.
“I really can’t right now”, her voice almost a whisper.
“I understand. Sorry, just tell me to back off if that made you uncomfortable. Just figured we had lots of planning to do. You know, I’m trying for a position as HoloFM co-producer.” I said, lightening the mood.
“It’s not that. I do. I do want to, that sounds good. Sorry, I meant not tonight”. She was blushing by now. “We should do that sometime, when I’m less busy.”
“Yeah, sure. Maybe let Nodoka know? Anyone else in mind who could do with winding down?”
“Just the two of us”, she managed in a small voice.

I made my way to the door.
“Me, You, & Yakiniku” I shot her. She grinned and waved me out.