Wanderers of Sorceria 

Producer-san's Work Log 1

The producer of Moonlight Prism records his daily activities with the members of Moonlight Prism.

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## Work Log – Producer's Limousine Announcement

Today, I walked into the lounge at Prism Studios-- the usual hangout of the Moonlight Prism kids. Same scene as always: Hana and Riko tucked together on one couch like inseparable bookends, Itsuki sprawled out across from them with Kaede sitting properly beside him, and Astra perched at the bar on her little stool, head down, scrolling endlessly on her phone.

I cleared my throat, and in my best "important announcement" voice, I said: "Everyone, I've got news. Starting this week, the company is giving us regular access to a limousine. For official local travel, we're going to use it instead of trains or rental buses."

Itsuki's face lit up like fireworks. "A limo? Now that's what I'm talking about. Rolling in style at last!"

Kaede, however, just sighed and shook his head. "A limousine isn't going to fit my drum kit."

I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. "It's not for hauling equipment, Kaede. We have a truck for that."

But of course, he wouldn't let it go. "My kit's valuable. I don't like it out of my sight."

Before I could reply, Riko leaned forward with that mischievous grin of hers. "Then why don't you ride in the truck with it? I'm sure there's room back there for both you and your precious drums."

Kaede muttered something under his breath. I sighed again, longer this time. "Look, the limousine isn't for tours. It's for interviews, TV appearances, important press events... that kind of thing."

Hana nodded thoughtfully. "That does sound convenient. But... is that all we can use it for?"

I didn't even have to think twice. I could already see where her mind was going. "No. Not dates with Kaede. It's company expenses only."

The look on her face confirmed it. Right on target.

Feeling my grip on the room slipping, I turned toward the bar. "Astra. You've been quiet. Any thoughts?"

She didn't even lift her eyes from her phone. Just muttered in that flat tone of hers: "Yeah. You can buy groceries for me. Count it as an official expense."

That was the breaking point. I threw up my arms. "Why do I even bother?"

And I walked out, leaving them to chatter excitedly about the limo as if I hadn't said a single word.

End of log.

----

## Work Log – Riko's Dating Life

End of the day, and I thought I could finally wind things down. But on my way past the dressing rooms, I spotted Riko sitting in front of the mirror, carefully doing her makeup. She wasn't in her usual stage getup, either; she had on what I can only describe as "dating clothes." You know, the outfit meant to look casual, but carefully chosen to look *just right.*

I leaned against the doorway. "Another date?"

She caught my eyes in the mirror and grinned. "Yep. Got a good feeling about this one, so I'm gonna look my best."

I had to sigh at that. She says the same thing every time. I've watched her cycle through dating apps these past months, each one ending in some kind of disappointment. More than once she's come back furious because she had to pick up the dinner tab, because her date was leeching off her money for a 'free meal' or something. Other times it was worse: the guys couldn't handle how close she is with Hana, and they'd bail out fast, claiming they didn't want to 'compete with another girl.' One or two even accused her of being a lesbian stringing them along.

And yet, for all that, I know Riko's got a good heart. She really is trying.

So I offered the same encouragement I always do. "Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time it'll work out."

She laughed, shaking her head. "It'll 'work out' when I actually get a second date. Tonight, I'm just hoping for a nice dinner-- which I'll end up paying for again-- and maybe the guy will tell a funny story or two for once."

Then her tone shifted, and I knew the sweet talk was coming before she even opened her mouth. "So, Producer-san... how about giving me a ride in the limousine? Just this once. Drop me off nice and fancy."

I groaned. "That limo is for official functions, Riko. Not dates."

"Oh, come on! You could make an excuse. Just drop me off on the way to... uh, wherever you're going. Doesn't have to count, right?"

She had me cornered, and we both knew it. I rolled my eyes. "At least do me the courtesy of addressing me by name."

She spun in her chair and smirked. "What's the point? So does every other Taro Tanaka in Tokyo!"

End of log.

----

## Work Log – Offering Astra a Cake

Late evening. The studio was quiet, the others already gone for the day. When I walked into the lounge, I found Astra sitting alone at the bar. Usual stool, usual posture-- glass of water in front of her, phone face down on the counter. She looked... bored. The kind of still, heavy silence that only Astra can produce.

I thought I'd try lightening the mood. "Hey, there's a fruit cake in the refrigerator. It's calling your name."

She flicked her eyes sideways at me, then back to her glass. Her expression didn't change. Still bored, and most certainly was not taking the bait.

I should have let it go. But no; I doubled down. "Seriously, it came in this morning. It won't last forever. I'll even share it with you."

That was a mistake.

She turned her head toward me slowly, and there it was: that infamous Astra "death glare." Eyes sharp enough to cut glass, the kind of look that could kill a lesser man outright. In that flat voice of hers, she said: "I'd rather die than share a cake with you."

Then, just like that, she turned back to her water and phone, as if I had ceased to exist.

I'll admit it-- I flinched. Astra is scary when she does that. She never really warmed up to me the way she did with Hana or Kaede. I think it's because they're quiet, and she likes quiet. Riko and Itsuki she complains about constantly; "noisy" is her word for them.

I don't think I'm noisy. Still, she doesn't put me in the "quiet" camp, either. Which means I'm somewhere in the middle... or worse, maybe she's ranked me *below* the noisy ones.

I've been Moonlight Prism's producer for many months now and she still doesn't gice me the time of day, and it drives me nuts.

End of log.

----

## Work Log – Hana, the 'Center' of Moonlight Prism

This afternoon I took Hana out in the limousine-- official capacity, of course. The destination was the set of 'Sprinkle Sparkle Bake Time!', the children's baking show hosted by "Lily," stage name for Yuri, a teenage host who happens to be a self-professed Moonlight Prism fan. A fan of Hana in particular.

Hana sat beside me during the ride, as quiet as ever. She didn't say anything, but I know the reason she keeps appearing on that show. Over time, she's built a friendly rapport with Yuri. The two genuinely get along, not just in front of the cameras. And thanks to that friendship, Yuri ends up promoting Moonlight Prism on her program completely free. The result: our band now has an unusually large following of younger children.

From a business perspective, I should be overjoyed. It's long-term insurance for the group's relevance. A new generation of fans, hooked early. But I can't help wondering: is Moonlight Prism's music really what children should be listening to? It's not really edgy, but the subject material is frequently rather adult themes and problems, something the youths of Japan and even abroad latched onto, but something children don't need to concern themselves with in their formative years.

Then again, when I remember who stands at the front of this group: Hana, the classically trained violinist, not Riko the lead singer, I realize the image projected isn't wild or dangerous. Instead, it's warm, wholesome, and charming. And it all radiates from Hana herself. Even without saying much, she defines the group's aura just by being there.

That's when I catch myself. I'm putting Hana on a pedestal, like an idol. I know she'd object to that treatment. She's too shy, too modest, too genuinely sweet to ever accept that kind of fawning. But it's exactly because of those qualities that I can't shake the feeling of wanting to protect her.

Truth be told, Moonlight Prism isn't a product of careful branding or marketing campaigns. It's a product of Hana's genuine personality, quiet as it is. She sets the tone. The others shine in their own ways, but Hana is the heart.

End of log.

----

## Work Log – Itsuki's Crisis

Morning. I'd barely gotten my coffee when Itsuki walked up to me. Normally he's all spark and flair, flamboyant to the core, but today... nothing. He looked downright somber.

I asked him straight: "What's up? Trouble with your father?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Me and the old man are square. This is about... Riko."

That caught me off guard.

Apparently, Kaede had heard it from Hana, he told Itsuki, and now Itsuki was passing it to me: Riko managed to secure a *second date* with some guy. I nearly spilled my coffee. Riko... on a second date? She's never gotten that far before.

Itsuki nodded gravely. "Exactly. Which means it's serious. She finally found a guy who'll accept her as she is."

I wanted to celebrate for her, but Itsuki didn't look happy at all.

He took a breath. "Producer-san, you remember I've always called myself Riko's 'little brother,' right?"

Of course I remembered. I reminded him he's actually older than Riko.

He waved it off. "Details, details. Point is, I put that wall there, for her sake. She's had enough chaos in her life-- I didn't want to add to it. But..." He hesitated. "...if I'm honest, the wall was for me too. Because there was always the chance I might find her... attractive."

I asked the obvious question: "So you do have feelings for her?"

Itsuki grimaced. "Jealous feelings. Worry. Fear. The idea that Riko could drift away... it's... scary. It feels like she should be with me."

So I asked another obvious one: "Then why not just make a move?"

He flared up at that. "How could I? After years of saying we're siblings? That'd make me a hypocrite. And it'd make her mad."

I pressed. "She's already mad, Itsuki. Mad that you put up the sibling wall in the first place. She already likes you as you are. You're the one being difficult. Honestly, if you'd been honest from the start, maybe Riko wouldn't have had to go through that endless parade of first dates at all."

Itsuki fell quiet. He couldn't think of a comeback. I could see it in his eyes-- he'd been *exposed.* Not by Hana, not by Kaede, not by Riko... but by someone as ordinary as me.

I don't know if that was the right thing to say, and I'm no relationship guru, but I've watched my kids for months and it's clear that there is something between Riko and Itsuki, but nobody wanted to put voice to it. And in my haste I actually said the quiet part out-loud. 

Finally he muttered, "I need time to think."

I told him he's welcome to bounce his thoughts off me whenever he's ready.

End of log.

----

## Work Log – Kaede's Private Meeting

This afternoon I gave Kaede a limousine ride. Officially it was to pick up some supplies for cleaning his drum kits. But once we were on the road, it became clear he wasn't all that interested in the supplies. What he really wanted was a private meeting-- just me and him, no other Prism members around.

He started with a sigh. "Producer-san... I've been thinking about the dating lives of this band."

That set the tone. He ticked them off one by one.

First, Itsuki was still fretting about whether to finally talk to Riko. No surprise there.

Next came Astra. According to Kaede, she's... "having a thing" with actress Tsukiko Kisaragi. But Kaede admitted he wasn't sure how serious it was. Astra doesn't come across as the type who wants a relationship. It was clear that Tsukiko meant something to Astra, but it was not something Kaede himself understood. And frankly, I'm not sure I completely understand, either, and Astra did not see it fit to explain the details to me.

And finally, himself and Hana. That's where he hesitated. He confided that Hana, for all her quiet appearances, has this unwavering admiration for actress and supermodel Shizuka Minazuki. Hana watches every movie she's in and talks about her constantly. Kaede doesn't really care for movies either way, but he admitted it feels a little obsessive.

I told him straight: "Kaede, you're struggling with relationship parsing. That's just part of working with people. Back when you were a session drummer, you could show up, play, and disappear. Now you're stuck with the same group day in and day out. It's messy, but it's human. And Hana's admiration for Shizuka is normal. People latch onto idols, actors, heroes. Doesn't mean you have to compete with them."

He nodded, though I could tell he was still chewing on it.

As for Astra and Tsukiko, I reassured him there too. I've seen Astra's songwriting pile up these past months-- lyrics full of questions, doubts, and sparks of longing. But recently she and Tsukiko seem to have reached a quiet, steady balance. Whatever they worked out, it's comfortable enough for them.

That left Itsuki and Riko. "Still a work in progress," I told him. "We'll just have to see what Itsuki decides and back him up when he does."

Kaede frowned. "Itsuki can be unpredictable. We'll need to make sure it's... within reason."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, we'll do that too."

End of log.

----

## Work Log – A Date With Destiny

Evening. I thought the building had quieted down for the night, but when I passed the dressing rooms, there she was again: Riko.

She was leaning into the mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. I stopped in my tracks when I saw what she was wearing.

A deep crimson cocktail dress, sleeveless, with a plunging neckline that dipped just far enough to demand attention. The hem hugged mid-thigh, showing off her legs, and the fabric shimmered faintly whenever she moved, catching the light like sparks. She'd paired it with strappy heels and just enough jewelry to complete the look. To put it bluntly-- she looked *smoking hot.*

I swallowed, tugging at my collar. "Uh... Riko, is that really appropriate for a second date?"

She flashed me a grin in the mirror. "Why not? I'm excited. It's my first second date, ever. I want to make a real impression this time."

I knew exactly why she came here to get ready. Unlike her apartment, here at Prism Productions she had access to the studio's makeup kits, and more importantly, the wardrobe racks where her nicer dresses hung in waiting. In other words, she was using company resources to prepare for her personal date. And she knew exactly what she was doing.

I sighed, already knowing where this was heading. "Fine. How about I give you a ride in the limousine?"

Her grin widened. She swiveled in her chair and teased: "Producer-san, you read my mind."

And just like that, I knew I'd been played. Again.

I also knew the ride was going to be... very difficult. Because sitting in the back of a limousine with *this* version of Riko-- smoking hot, radiant with excitement, practically glowing-- was not what I'd call an easy assignment.

End of log.

----

When I returned to Prism Productions after dropping Riko off for her second date, I thought the building would be empty. But in the lounge, I caught sight of what I thought was Hana.

Only, it wasn't.

It was Itsuki.

In drag.

He had on a silver wig styled like Hana's bob, eerily accurate. His outfit was equally convincing: a soft cream blouse tucked into a pleated grey skirt that brushed the knees, paired with sheer stockings and a pair of low-heeled shoes. He even added a delicate silver pendant at the neckline. For the final touch, he'd worked makeup around his eyes and lips just enough to blur the line between parody and frightening accuracy.

I froze. "Itsuki... what are you doing dressed like Hana? Why?"

He sighed, clearly frustrated. "I heard Riko went out on her second date tonight. I wanted to catch her before she left."

I told him the truth: "You're too late. I just dropped her off a little while ago."

His shoulders sagged, but then his eyes lit up again. "Then you've got to take me there! Please, Producer-san... take me to where she is."

I was skeptical. Very skeptical. "You're cosplaying as Hana. You can't just walk into her date like that."

He waved me off. "Don't worry about it. It's part of the plan."

That did not make me feel any better. Whatever this "plan" was, it reeked of desperation. Still, I could see how hurt he looked. Riko really was slipping away from him-- or at least he felt she was-- and this was his way of clinging on. Somehow. I'm sure this made sense in Itsuki logic, but it did not make any sense to me.

So I weighed my options. If I refused, he'd probably run around the city dressed as "Hana," frantically searching for Riko like some tragic romantic comedy gone wrong. If I agreed, he'd crash Riko's second date dressed as Hana and embarrass her. Either way, this situation would end in disaster.

But at least one outcome would be *controlled.*

So I gave in. "Fine. I'll take you. But I'm expecting to ride back in this limousine with both you and Riko after the chaos unfolds. Deal?"

He nodded firmly. "Deal."

I'm not sure what I've just signed myself up for.

----

The limousine ride out was uncomfortable, but what followed at the restaurant was worse.

We arrived at a quiet Italian place, candlelight on the tables, couples leaning close across their plates. I stayed back, pretending to be no more than a bystander while Itsuki-- still in his very convincing "Hana" getup-- strode right in.

Riko was radiant, dressed to kill in her cocktail dress, sitting across from a perfectly respectable young man. For about three seconds, it looked normal. Then "Hana" pulled out a chair.

From where I stood, I couldn't catch every word. Maybe that was a blessing. I was already cringing hard enough to fold into myself. But I saw Riko's face drop in horror, and her date's eyes widen in delight-- he *bought it.*

Then came the speech. Itsuki, as Hana, launched into a torrent of words, impassioned and trembling, about how he'd been wrong. How he'd built a wall between them by calling her a sister, too afraid of what the truth would mean for both of them. The whole restaurant turned to listen.

To Riko's dismay, it looked exactly like *Hana* was confessing to her. Her date was not impressed. By the time the tirade wound down, the poor guy grabbed his coat, muttered something sharp, and stormed out.

Riko-- red with embarrassment but unwilling to cause more of a scene-- let Itsuki sit back down. They "finished" the dinner in silence.

I waited outside. Eventually, the two of them walked out together. Riko looked like she was holding in an earthquake.

The limousine ride back was hell.

The moment the doors shut, she exploded:

"You ruined my date!"

"You dressed as Hana!"

"You confessed to me in front of everyone-- and in front of Producer-san!"

She was livid. Itsuki, to my shock, didn't fold. He fought back-- not defensively, but like he had been bracing for this very outburst. He laid it all out. Why he did it. Why the disguise.

Because, he explained, public perception has always been that Riko and Hana are inseparable-- that their bond is stronger than romance. Any guy who got close to Riko would feel like he was competing with Hana. That night proved it; her date left because he believed Hana had feelings for her.

So, Itsuki reasoned, the only way to make himself "unthreatening" to her world was to face that barrier head-on.

Volatile as it was, it *was* a plan. I had thought for months that Itsuki did not take anything seriously, that he was coasting by as much as he could while trying to leave his past behind, but it was clear that Itsuki had thought long and hard about what he was doing, and this was not a random whim or fancy.

Riko's anger cracked. Confusion took over. Tears welled up, and soon she broke down entirely, sobbing into Itsuki's arms. And Itsuki, without hesitation, wrapped her up and assured her that he understood her, that he always would.

I sat across from them, pretending not to exist, watching as the rawest mix of feelings filled the back of the limousine.

I don't know if this was the right move. I don't know if it'll lead where Itsuki hopes. But sitting there, I couldn't deny it-- somewhere in Riko's tears, in the way she clung to him... she probably wanted this, too.

End of supplementary log.

----

## Work Log - The Morning After

The morning after last night's mess was strangely quiet. I sat in the lounge, nursing a cup of coffee and going over my notes, when Hana slipped in. She greeted me softly, then asked where Riko was.

I hesitated for a moment, but I told her the truth: she was with Itsuki.

Hana blinked at me, her expression shifting between surprise and a quiet kind of knowing. She tilted her head and said she'd noticed Itsuki being anxious about Riko's "second date" yesterday, so it wasn't hard to guess that "something happened." She concluded, in her soft voice, that they must be "working it out."

I admitted that was exactly the case. Riko and Itsuki were having a long talk, though I didn't know where it would lead.

Not long after, Kaede came through the door. First thing out of his mouth: "How's Itsuki doing?" That caught me off guard-- he was too precise with his wording. I asked how he knew, and Kaede, with his usual calm shrug, admitted that Itsuki had told him what he was planning beforehand.

"By the fact that nothing really blew up, things must have worked out, right?" Kaede asked.

I sighed and told him it was still very much "a work in progress."

Then Astra walked in. She listened in silence while I explained, as evenly as I could, that Riko and Itsuki were "working things out." Astra just blinked at me, muttered a short "About time," and then went straight to her bar stool to sit down and pretend none of us existed.

I didn't know whether to be impressed or frustrated by her bluntness.

As I sat back, I couldn't shake the thought that last night's theatrics might have ended up in the gossip pages. I half expected headlines about Riko's second date going up in flames. But nothing happened; it didn't even register. Likely because the public already has their fixed perception of Riko, and it blunted the impact of the scene.

I should feel relieved, but instead I find myself annoyed. That lingering perception-- Riko's closeness to Hana, the idea that it overshadows her personal life-- won't ever fully disappear. Even if Hana and Kaede were to marry tomorrow, the shadow of that public story would remain.

It's the kind of weight I wish I could shield them from, but some things never wash away once they stick in the public consciousness.

End of log.

---- 

I have to note something unusual for the log. Riko and Itsuki didn't go home last night. I can't say I approved entirely-- it's not exactly standard practice-- but I understood why: Riko didn't want to go home, and Itsuki couldn't just leave her alone. So they stayed together at Prism Studios.

I had no idea what happened overnight. I didn't pry, and they didn't offer. But when I saw them again this morning, I noticed a few things immediately. Riko had cleaned up and was wearing the same outfit she had on yesterday before her date. Itsuki had abandoned the Hana cosplay entirely; he looked like himself, calm but with a quiet attentiveness I hadn't seen before.

They clearly had a rough night emotionally, but they weren't apart. Far from it. They were together, and judging by their manner, spending more time with each other than they ever had before. That, more than anything, seemed like a quiet victory.

By lunchtime, the lounge gave me an even clearer picture of the aftermath. Hana and Kaede were sharing one couch, Riko and Itsuki were sharing another, and Astra, predictably, sat on her bar stool, phone in hand, acting as if none of the past day's chaos had happened. I looked around and almost thought everything had returned to normal. But this wasn't the same normal.

The seating arrangement said everything: Hana and Riko weren't sharing a couch anymore. The shift was subtle, but significant: their close bond, once physically manifest, was now giving way to space with their respective significant others. Hana with Kaede, Riko with... well, whatever Itsuki is becoming in her life. At this point, all signs point toward "boyfriend," and judging by how naturally they occupied their shared space together, it's working.

I don't know the specifics of their conversation last night, but I'm hopeful. Judging from their demeanor and this quiet reordering of bonds in the lounge, whatever they worked through seems to have had a positive outcome.

It's a new phase for the group, and for Riko and Itsuki in particular. Subtle, stable, and, finally, mutually acknowledged. I'll be keeping a close eye on it, but for now, this is as good a sign as I could hope for.

End of supplementary log.

----

## Work Log - En Route to Hana's Photoshoot

This morning I was once again alone in the limousine with Hana, taking her to a scheduled photoshoot session. At first, it seemed like the usual quiet ride-- Hana looking out the window, hands folded neatly in her lap. But I noticed the anxious look in her eyes. Not the nerves of stage fright, but something more personal, more pressing.

Then, all of a sudden, she turned to me and asked about *Itsuki's impression of her*.

I felt my chest tighten. *Uh oh.*

Apparently, Riko had told her about Itsuki's appearance at the restaurant the other night-- dressed in a silver wig, acting out a scene as if he *were* Hana herself. I tried to keep my face calm and neutral as I asked what, exactly, Hana wanted to know.

Fidgeting shyly, cheeks already tinged pink, she asked me-- since I had actually *seen* Itsuki in the getup-- how *convincing* he had been.

I stammered. I admit it. Then I carefully answered: at first glance, yes, I thought it was Hana sitting there. But once I got a good look, of course, I could tell the difference.

By then, Hana's entire face had gone crimson. She tugged at the hem of her skirt nervously and then whispered another question: how had Itsuki *acted* as her?

Now it was my turn to squirm. I admitted I hadn't gotten close enough to witness all the mannerisms, but from what I saw-- and from the reports afterward-- it was "good enough" to convince *everyone* that Hana was the one standing in that restaurant.

That's when Hana sank into her seat, squirming, face completely red. She confessed that Riko had told her the worst of it: Itsuki had made an impassioned love confession in front of the restaurant, so earnest that Riko's date was completely fooled into thinking *she* had said it.

Then Hana's eyes met mine directly. Wide, shining, searching.

"Do you think I sound like that?" she asked.

I froze. My heart actually skipped. The truth is, Hana is naturally charming, effortlessly sweet, able to win people over without even trying. She *does* sound like that, and that's exactly what makes her so captivating-- not just on stage, but in life. But how could I tell her that, without causing even more embarrassment?

So I dodged, gently. I deflected. I told her instead about her own merits-- that she has a way of capturing the attention of the room just by being herself. That Itsuki, in his own misguided way, was tapping into that energy. That what made his impression "work" was simply that he recognized what made Hana so special in the first place.

Her face was redder than ever. She fidgeted the entire rest of the ride. I don't know if I really eased her mind or just made her even more self-conscious. But before we arrived, I added one more quiet reassurance.

"Hana," I said, "you're not an idol, but I'll protect your smile no matter what."

She blinked at me, stunned into silence, and turned back to the window. Her hands didn't fidget anymore, though.

End of log.

---- 

## Work Log - Astra's Collaborator

After dropping off Hana I picked up actress Tsukiko Kisaragi from Moon River Talent Agency. Destination: Prism Productions, where she was scheduled to collaborate with Astra on a track.

When she settled into the back of the limousine, she smiled politely and admitted she was surprised when I offered to give her a ride myself. I explained that Prism Productions had only recently acquired the limousine, and since she was directly working with Astra on a project, this counted as a valid company expense.

She laughed softly and remarked, "You must get good use out of it, then."

I chuckled along with her, but inwardly, I held back the truth. If only she knew how many times this car had been used for things *questionably* related to company work. Personal errands, comfort runs, ferrying band members after late-night dramas, and even Itsuki's "Hana impression" fiasco at the Italian restaurant. Strictly speaking, Tsukiko wasn't even part of Prism Productions-- using the limo for her was a stretch. But the way I justified it, this trip was in Astra's interest, and Astra certainly wasn't about to hop into the limousine with me anytime soon, so it balanced out.

Still, as we rode along, my thoughts turned to Tsukiko herself. She struck me as a sweet, well-mannered young actress-- the kind who speaks softly and puts everyone at ease. And yet, somehow, she'd managed to form a bond with Astra, who was as standoffish and aloof as they come. How a girl like her could get along with someone like Astra was a mystery worth filing away for later.

And there was another matter: Tsukiko was the protege of Shizuka Minazuki. That name alone carries weight; Shizuka Minazuki is the actress Hana idolizes, and from what I understand, Tsukiko has been studying and modeling her craft after her. That meant-- among other things-- that Tsukiko has been learning her methods, her quiet but powerful acting presence... and even *taking cream pies to the face.*

I couldn't wrap my head around that one. Why this sweet, delicate-looking girl in front of me would willingly participate in something so odd, so slapstick, was beyond me. Then again, I'd never paid proper attention to Shizuka Minazuki's work, either, and she's undeniably popular. Clearly, there was some artistic merit in what they were doing, even if I couldn't see it myself.

But perhaps that was just it. Maybe the Tsukiko sitting across from me wasn't quite the whole picture. Maybe the demure, polite exterior was just the surface, and beneath it was a young woman brave enough to step into outlandish, humbling roles. Brave enough to win over Astra. Brave enough to follow Shizuka Minazuki down such an unusual path.

Of course, that wasn't something I was going to figure out in a short limousine ride filled with pleasantries and polite laughter. Still, I made a mental note: I should find time to learn more about Tsukiko Kisaragi. There is certainly more to her than the sweet image she projects-- and if she's working with Astra, I need to understand what makes her tick.

End of log.

----

## Work Log - Relationship Advice In the Back of the Limousine

Kaede asked me to sit with him in the back of the limousine this afternoon. The car wasn't going anywhere-- engine off, parked right outside the building. In my head, I was already grumbling: I have an office for these kinds of private talks, with chairs, a desk, and a coffee pot. But Kaede wanted the limousine. He said it felt more "private." I humored him.

It didn't take long to realize this wasn't about errands or rehearsals. Kaede leaned forward, serious expression, and asked me, man-to-man, when is the right time to propose to Hana.

I'll admit, I froze. I don't even *have* a girlfriend, much less a fiancee. Relationship advice is way out of my wheelhouse. I told him as much, but he insisted. He said that since I must've known married couples, I surely knew more than he did.

That gave me pause. Kaede's met hundreds of people in his career as a session musician and now with Moonlight Prism, but almost all of them were work-related connections. He doesn't have many close friends, and the few he does aren't married. So when it comes to personal things like this, he's stuck. Guys like Itsuki are still fumbling through their own feelings, so Kaede doesn't really have a peer to lean on.

So, reluctantly, I pulled from memory. I told him about one friend who dated for over a year before proposing. Kaede latched onto that immediately: "So a year is sufficient time, then?"

I shook my head. No. Another friend of mine proposed after just two months-- and they're still happily together. The truth is, there's no timetable. Sometimes couples click fast, sometimes they need longer to understand each other's quirks before deciding it's right.

So I turned the question back to him: "Do you feel it's the right time?"

Kaede sat there for a moment, thinking. He admitted that, yes, he's in a solid place in his life, and Hana seems to be as well. He's certain he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. But then came the hesitation-- he isn't sure if *Hana* is ready yet.

And that was my answer. If he isn't sure about her readiness, then it's too early to pull the trigger.

I told him so. I also gave him my honest advice: Hana isn't the type of woman you spring a fairytale proposal on. She's not someone to be coddled or protected, no matter how much I myself want to shield her sometimes. Hana makes big decisions on her own-- financial, professional, personal. That's who she is.

So I told Kaede: don't surprise her. Don't set up some big spectacle. Instead, talk to her. Ask her to start thinking about marriage. When she feels ready, the two of them can go buy a ring together. It may not be the stuff of movies, but Hana isn't a fairytale girl.

Kaede sat back, folded his arms, and nodded slowly. He said I was right, that Hana is used to making big decisions. So rather than drop it on her, he'll ask her outright to consider it, and go from there.

I can only hope my advice steers him in the right direction.

End of log.

----

## Work Log - Introspective Dating

Later in the afternoon, Itsuki came to see me in my office. Unlike Kaede with his preference for hijacking the limousine, Itsuki actually respected the furniture I already own.

But the surprising part wasn’t that he came to me-- it was *how* he came in. There was no big flourish, no dramatic entrance, no guitar miming or flamboyant quip. He was... quiet. Not moody like the time he fretted over Riko’s second date, but subdued in a different way.

I thought I had an idea what was on his mind, but I wanted to hear it from him.

Itsuki admitted he’s trying to meet Riko on "her level" instead of making a big spectacle. But, as he pointed out, he’s always been the guy who goes big on everything-- onstage, backstage, even in his personal life. That’s just his mode. And then he reminded me how badly that blew up with his father. (They’ve only recently reconciled, and it wasn’t easy.) He said he doesn’t want to repeat the same mistake with Riko.

That got my attention. For all his dramatics, Itsuki sounded serious.

I told him that the fact he came to me first-- before rushing headlong into some over-the-top romantic gesture-- was already an improvement. If he’s thinking before acting, he’s making progress.

I suggested something simple. Coffee. Just coffee. A quiet chat, no fireworks.

He tilted his head and asked if I meant from the pot here, or a shop. My first instinct was to say "shop," but I caught myself. Maybe a big public outing isn’t what Riko wants right now. Maybe staying in the studio, with familiar walls and less pressure, is better. So I told him: "Here’s fine. Doesn’t have to be coffee, either. Just something simple."

Itsuki nodded, muttering "coffee" under his breath like he was testing the word out. Then, before he left, he paused at the door, looked back at me, and said, "You’d make a good father someday."

I brushed it off-- told him I wouldn’t go that far, but admitted that all the Moonlight Prism members are basically my kids. Even though I’m barely older than Kaede.

Itsuki grinned at that, gave me a thumbs up, and said, "That’s a good way to look at it, Tanaka-P."

And then he left.

Now, I’m sitting here rolling the nickname around in my head. *Tanaka-P.* Doesn’t quite sound right when I say it out-loud. Awkward, even. But I guess if Itsuki’s smiling, I’ll let it slide.

End of log.

----

## Work Log - Telepathic Collaboration

I sat in on Astra and Tsukiko’s songwriting session today. Or rather, I sat in the room while something *wordless* happened between them.

They weren’t talking. Not once.

Instead, Astra would scribble something down, slide the notebook across the table. Tsukiko would scan it, pause, then add her own line and slide it back. Repeat. No commentary, no debate, no wasted breath. Just the sound of pen scratching against paper.

On one hand, this is textbook Astra-- she’s never been the type to chatter her way through collaboration. She does better in silence, with walls up and words cut down to the bone. But what surprised me was Tsukiko. This girl is an actress trained under Shizuka Minazuki herself, a professional used to reading people and embodying roles. Yet here, she wasn’t *acting*-- she was simply syncing with Astra’s silence like she’d always been there.

It was uncanny. Almost telepathic.

I found myself hesitating to say anything, even to clear my throat. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d break the circuit between them. I didn’t even peek too much at what was on the page-- it felt like spying on something private. I couldn’t tell if Astra was writing for Tsukiko to sing, or if Tsukiko was feeding lines back for Astra to carry. Maybe they’ll do it together. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Whatever it is, it’s *theirs.*

I wouldn’t go so far as to say they’re a couple. Their first collaboration-- decidedly sapphic in tone-- already led to Tsukiko gently admitting to Astra that she was straight, even as she sang it with full conviction. But still... what I saw today was no less intimate than any couple I’ve ever met. A friendship forged on a level most people never touch.

It reminded me a little of Hana and Riko’s bond, though not as extreme. Still, the quiet intensity, the trust in silence-- it’s cut from the same cloth.

Whatever Astra and Tsukiko are building, it works. And it’s probably stronger than anyone on the outside will ever realize.

End of log.

----

## Work Log - A Ride With Riko

Normally, Riko and Hana head out together. They’ve been roommates for years now, and their synchronized exits from the studio have almost become a ritual. Tonight was different. Hana was off to dinner with Kaede, Astra and Tsukiko were still deep in their late-night writing groove, and Itsuki-- well, he slipped away home by himself. That left me with Riko, quiet and alone in the back of the limo.

I don’t often get Riko to myself like this. She’s usually a ball of fire, teasing everyone in her orbit. Tonight, though, she looked... tired. Thoughtful. Not bad, not upset-- just introspective in a way I don’t see often.

I asked her how she was feeling after everything.

She looked me dead in the eye and said she had a lot on her mind. Then, in that husky, matter-of-fact voice of hers, she laid it all out.

She admitted that she’ll never shake the public perception that she and Hana are "an item." No matter how many times they clarify, it won’t go away. And she knows the way the world sees her friendship with Hana-- wildly mischaracterized though it may be-- will always color her relationships. She said she realized, in hindsight, that her last "second date," the one she bragged about so much, wasn’t real. That guy wasn’t actually okay with Hana being in her life the way she is. He was just pretending.

Then she surprised me. She said that in his loud, flamboyant way, Itsuki might have saved her from herself. She admitted she was so desperate to score that mythical "second date" that she ignored the red flags. And Itsuki, as clumsy as he was, forced her to face the truth she was avoiding.

Of course, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. She brought up how humiliating it was for him to confess his love *while dressed as Hana.* "Like I wouldn’t notice," she scoffed. She said she’s willing to give him a chance, but he’s going to have to pay for that embarrassment one way or another.

She started talking about how much she and Itsuki have in common-- messy parents, growing up without the right guidance, having to make choices too young. She said flat out: "We’re both messed up. So fine-- we can be messed up together. For now."

I told her that sounded like a mature way to look at things.

She immediately shot that down. "No. It’s just because he’s such a loudmouth I had to put my foot down. He’s still paying me back for that dinner."

I couldn’t help but laugh. "He really has it coming."

Riko grinned, sharp and mischievous, and agreed. Then, just when I thought she was done, she turned those silver eyes back on me and said: "And don’t think you’re off the hook, either, Producer-san. You’re just as guilty in all this. So I’m never gonna stop calling you that."

I rolled my eyes. I reminded her, for what feels like the thousandth time, that *I have a name.*

She just smirked, leaned back into the seat, and closed her eyes, satisfied.

End of log.




===========================================================================

This story is written with heavy AI assistance.

Essentially a series of gag vignettes based on the conceit that Producer-san of Moonlight Prism is dealing with the personalities of the five-member band.

The main 'plot' thread here is Riko and Itsuki's relationship. While it seems cliche for band members to pair off as they did, realistically Riko and Itsuki were already interested in each other, with the only major obstacle was Itsuki's 'sibling' wall he put between them because he didn't want to form that kind of relationship at the time. But prompted by Riko's eventual dating success Itsuki has to face the reality that he doesn't want Riko to date anyone else; the 'second date' in essence was a 'threat' to what he was comfortable with and how his 'all the time in the world' with Riko was coming to an end. Hence why he pulled his stunt at the restaurant, leveraging his previously revealed 'ability' to 'cosplay' as Hana several stories ago. In essence I've been baking this for a while and when I couldn't bring myself to write it straight, I decided to add it in relation to a third party observing what was going on-- in this case, Producer-san.

Since Producer-san is a 'third party' to the Moonlight Prism drama it also addresses somthing Hana and Riko themselves would never talk about: that Hana is very likely 'moe' to her fans. The 'moe' concept is roughly that this person elicits feelings of wanting to protect her and shield her from harm, which is exaclty the thing Producer-san feels when he's alone with Hana, but he also recognizes that Hana is a grown-up and perhaps the most adult of the band members, and she would balk at being treated that way.

This also explicitly confirms that 'Lily' is a stage name. But that she's still hosting 'Sprinkle Sparkle Bake Time!' even at this point means she's getting pretty old, but I'm not entirely certain how old she is (I *think* she should be seventeen as of the timeline of this story).



~ Razorclaw X