(〃〃)
On the plane, Maki Juri yawned, unfastened her seat belt, and prepared to go wash her face to wake herself up.
But just then, someone suddenly came down the aisle and crouched beside her. "You're Miss Maki Juri, right? I've watched your dramas. I'm a loyal fan—could I have your autograph?"
"..." Maki Juri frowned impatiently. She hated ordinary fans like this, asking for autographs and photos, taking up her time without bringing her any benefit. The words "No. Stop bothering me" were already on the tip of her tongue.
But before she spoke, Maki Juri glanced sideways and noticed that the person asking for her autograph seemed mixed-race and fairly handsome. By a generous stretch, he counted as a foreign friend. Her tone softened slightly. "I didn't bring an autograph board. Next time."
"That's fine, I brought one." Hashimoto Maya had come prepared. With a flick of his hand, he took out the blank autograph board he had prepared earlier.
Maki Juri: "..." Tch.
She took the board, then suddenly remembered something. "I didn't bring a pen."
Hashimoto Maya froze. There was a raised ring beside the autograph board, and he had assumed it came with a signing pen. But looking closely now, he realized the seller didn't have that much conscience. It was only a pen holder; he had needed to bring the pen himself.
As he wondered where to get one, Maki Juri's makeup artist suddenly approached. Her seat was close by, and she had long since heard the commotion.
The makeup artist obediently handed Maki Juri a signing pen. "Please use this."
Maki Juri sneered. "You're really thoughtful." When they got back, she would find an excuse to dock her performance rating.
She impatiently wrote her name on the autograph board. Seeing this, Hashimoto Maya