Photo of an Honest Talk

The manager told me to knock before entering.

I did.

“Come in,” a soft voice called back.

The room was smaller than I expected — a vanity, a rack of costumes, a half-open bento box she probably hadn’t touched. Rin sat in front of the mirror, still in light rehearsal clothes, her reflection meeting mine before her actual eyes did.

“Ah… Mikazuki-san,” she said, polite smile in place. “You’re here to discuss the documentary shots?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, holding my notepad. “They said I should, uh… get to know you a little better. For the ‘authentic atmosphere’ thing.”

“Of course.” Her voice was calm, professional, perfectly measured. “Please ask anything you need to.”

I sat across from her and cleared my throat. For a moment there was only the sound of air conditioning.

I flipped the page open.

“Alright so first question…”

What do I even ask her? I didn’t rehearse this! I’ll just go with the safe options.

“What’s something you enjoy doing offstage? Like a hobby.”

She didn’t even blink.

“Reading. Watching films. Spending time with friends.”

The answers came out smooth, clean — probably the same ones she’d said in a hundred interviews. Did she even have time to spend outside work? I doubt it.

“Right,” I murmured, jotting it down anyway. “So… favorite food?”

“Strawberry parfaits.”

Generic.

“Favorite color?”

“Lavender.”

“Uh-huh…” I nodded, “Why did you… become an idol, Rin-san?”

“To make people smile through my music.”

I stopped writing. She wasn’t lying — but she wasn’t there, either.

It was like watching a press release read itself. I hesitated, then shut the notebook.

Her brows raised.

“Is something the matter, Mikazuki-san?”

I exhaled. No, everything was perfect. But that was the problem. An authentic angle meant honesty. And… she wasn’t honest with me. After all how could she?

She had probably worked all her life to create and portray this mask of perfection.

How could I get her to be honest with me?

I guess I should start by being honest myself.

I flipped closed my notepad and cleared my throat. Rin watched me with curiosity, yet without breaking face.

“So uh…” I braced myself, “I need to say sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Rin blinked. She probably wasn’t expecting that.

“Sometimes when I hold a camera I tend to blurt things out without a filter. It’s a bad habit.”

Rin shook her head.

“It’s okay. It didn’t really bother me.”

“Really?” I scratched my cheek, “It can’t have been pleasant. I mean a nobody like me criticising something you’ve probably built your whole life around…”

“It’s okay, Mikazuki-san really.” Rin smiled just a tad brighter, “I don’t think anybody’s ever insulted me like that before so… it was fun. That’s why I laughed.”

She laughed… because nobody has insulted her before…?

“Wow… that’s a weird statement…” I exhaled, making her giggle just a little. It wasn’t a fake rehearsed one either. It was nice and crisp.

Wow. Her laugh really sounded beautiful.

“You did it again.” She said.

“Did what?”

“Being funny.”

“I swear I’m not trying.”

She giggled again.

It seemed the tension between us had eased a bit. She wasn’t stuck up or a diva like some people might think. Sure she didn’t let her guard down easy but deep down you could see…

She was just a girl trying her best.

“Look, you should know I’m not really good at pretending.” I smiled wryly, “To be honest I haven’t done this before. Not even close. And I’m not gonna try and act like I belong somewhere I don’t.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You haven’t?”

“Not even close,” I said with a weak laugh. “Yesterday I was holding light reflectors and trying not to sneeze. Today I’m supposed to be the guy in charge of capturing the ‘essence of an idol.’ I don’t even know what that means.”

That earned another. small giggle from her.

“But what I want to say is…” I took a deep breath and tried to smile the most genuine I could.

“I really want to work with you. Make this project work. But I’m not someone important. So no need to tiptoe around me.”

Rin paused for a moment, like she was debating whether to believe me or not. Her nod however was a positive one.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

“You’re strange, Mikazuki-san,” she said softly. “Most people try so hard to impress me. You’re the only one who tells me you have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, well,” I shrugged, “Honesty’s all I’ve got. The rest’s a work in progress.”

Her reflection met mine again, but this time her eyes softened — less guarded, more curious.

📸

The train rattled softly beneath me, the city lights flashing by the window like slow-moving constellations.

I leaned my head against the glass, my camera resting on my lap.

Through the window I saw people, cars, billboards. Others going to work, others returning, people running, working…

It’s strange. I used to think photography was just about skill — timing, composition, lighting, all that technical stuff. But the more I shoot, the more I realize that the best photos… are the ones nobody was meant to take.

The kind you snap when someone forgets there’s a camera in front of them. When they stop posing. When the truth slips out for just a second.

That’s what I always loved about it. Those tiny, fragile moments that vanish if you blink.

Maybe that’s why this industry feels so… backwards to me.

Everything here is built to hide the truth. To polish it, repackage it, sell it back to people like a dream they’ll never reach.

And then there’s Tsukishiro Rin. The epitome of perfection to the public eye.

Yet today, when I looked at her… I saw something crack through that perfection.

Behind all the lights and rehearsed smiles, there was a girl who just wanted to breathe.

In a suffocating industry, I found a moment I always longed to capture and didn’t know it.

Until now.

For the first time, I knew what I wanted to capture.

Not “Rin Tsukishiro, Japan’s number one idol.”

Just Rin.

The real her.

The honest her.

The girl beyond the lens.

If I can show the world even a glimpse of that — maybe I’ll finally take the photo I’ve been chasing all along.

Could I really do that, though?

It remained to be seen.

The train hissed to a stop. I grabbed my bag and stepped onto the platform.

The city air hit my face — warm, heavy, and full of noise.

I scrolled through my contacts, thumb hovering over a name. This morning, I couldn’t even bring myself to write the email.

But now…

I pressed call.

“Matsuda-sensei, hello.”

“Hello? Mikazuki? What is it—did something happen with the internship?”

I laughed a little as I took a deep breath.

“You’re probably not gonna believe what I’m about to tell you but…”

Maybe I didn’t plan for any of this. Maybe I still had no idea what I was doing.

But still, I was gonna take the shot.