Success

"That child was really good. Was it his first play? I've never seen him before"

"Who is he?"

Whispers of praise filled the air, a testament to the audience's captivation. Their accolades, referring to me as a prodigious talent, reverberated like music to my ears, though a subtle sensation stirred within me, a curious tingling at the back of my mind, its origin shrouded in mystery.

I concealed any inkling of my own emotions beneath a composed facade. Their exuberant cheers washed over me, but my expression remained a measured smile, a mark of my commitment.

It was necessary to make everyone understand a professional is still a professional, no matter the age, when on stage.

We inclined our heads in a collective bow of gratitude, the final gesture of our performance, allowing the audience to disperse, bearing the tale of our success beyond these walls.

This would of course compel other people to come and watch this play, even if they were not sure if they should've at first.

Indeed, a triumph held the potential for manifold rewards, both direct and indirect.

"Congratulations on the splendid play... I am the Managing Director's assistant, my name is Hiroto Mai. The Managing Director wishes to have a word with you, could you follow me, please?"

Of course, I had seen him from the crowd after the play had started, his attention a constant undercurrent beneath the performance.

Yet, the notion of a private conversation with a child seemed a touch out of place.

"...Mai-san, Where is my father?"

For the moment, he was my intermediary, my voice, and my advocate. It was a prudent arrangement, as navigating the labyrinthine complexities of an actor's career was not within my purview. Left to my own devices, I would undoubtedly be ensnared in the pitfalls of exploitation.

After all, I did not have the physical time nor excuses to start learning such things...not until the last few days, at least.

My sole ambition revolved around illuminating the stage, but I recognized the necessity of broader preparations, be it in martial prowess or other skills, to guard against potential threats.

I expected that psycho to come for my head sooner or later, and I needed to be ready to avoid having my throat slit all of a sudden.

But these thoughts were fleeting, instantly supplanted by the matter at hand. My focus shifted back to the current situation. My aspiration was for a fair and favorable contract with Lala Lai, a goal that warranted immediate attention.

"Your father has already been notified and will be present with you and the Managing Director." the assistant conveyed, a bridge between my aspirations and this impending rendezvous.

Her gaze seemed to hold suspicion, one that considered my ostensible innocence as a child, masking my acumen beneath, perhaps, an artfully woven façade.

I allowed a subtle shift in demeanor, embracing a fleeting childlike enthusiasm.

"Ah, I hoped to hear his praise for my performance. But, if it's important, then I'll wait..." I replied, imbuing my words with a touch of naive anticipation, an adept play on the expectations one might naturally hold of a child.

I was not on stage, I could be childish now.

This was enough to make all the assistant's doubts vanish like smoke. Well, I am already surprised she wanted to suspect a 7-year-old child, but I did not care.

One more chance to practice my acting a little...

As we traversed the backstage corridors, gratitude flowed freely from my lips to my fellow actors, a modest gesture tinged with appreciation.

I adhered to the code of humility. Receiving too much admiration could sow seeds of discontent among the others, but humility and my act of personally recognizing their efforts first served as a shield against such backlash.

Any criticism was bound to die on its own from this gesture alone.

It's somewhat fun to toy with people. Still, I am only doing it to protect myself in the end, so I don't think I'm doing something wrong.

I am not hurting nor killing anyone, differently from some human trash.

This helped to maintain my reputation. I intended to keep it as high as possible. Influential people could move things around, after all. I also needed as many connections as possible, if I wanted to cleanly get rid of Hikaru when the time came.

With calculated steps, we arrived at a more secluded area, a prelude to the second act in this battle. As the door swung open, Mio, the assistant, tactfully withdrew, conscious of the boundaries of her role.

I offered her my gratitude in the most endearing tone my vocal cords could muster. While her countenance remained impassive, the acceptance of my thanks conveyed a subtle ripple of acknowledgment.

Establishing a favorable impression was crucial, even if my reliance on her assistance was negligible. It was imperative to avoid being reduced to a mere pawn in the machinations of this company.

I could not do much at this point to avoid this, after all.

In the presence of a stranger—my father's associate—I eschewed the exuberance one might expect from a child. Instead, I adopted a poised and decorous demeanor. Seating myself gracefully, I greeted the Managing Director with a neutral voice as I thanked him for watching over my performance.

Such calculated comportment often piqued the satisfaction of the seasoned, reminding them of their stature. The Managing Director was no exception. Despite his age, he undoubtedly relished the sensation of authority.

"...Your child is remarkably well-mannered, Kyouya. My initial assessment was not misguided."

Ah, the delicate art of employing compliments as veiled manipulations. He aimed to claim credit for orchestrating my current position and success, an attempt to weave a tapestry of indebtedness that would likely fall flat with my father.

"...Indeed. Your astute judgment that day was a catalyst for our presence here. Allow me to express my gratitude by offering you a dinner. Please accept, for it is a modest token of appreciation for your influence upon my family."

My father's unwavering resolve emanated from every word, a steadfast defense against the subtle machinations of a superior. The Managing Director, while aware of my father's unyielding stance, ventured to test the waters, an exercise in probing the extent of his leverage.

The interplay between these two figures amused me, a delicate dance of power that would shape my own career. A wry smile played upon my lips as I grasped the undercurrents of their words. Although I possessed the capacity to intervene, my hands were tied. Premature action would arouse suspicion. I was too young.

For now, my trust lay with my father—a disconcerting reliance, yet a more prudent choice than precipitous interference.