I was Thrown into an Unfamiliar Manga

Clunk—

When I opened my eyes at the feeling of the vehicle stopping, the scenery outside the window, which had previously been smack in the middle of the city, had completely changed.
A mountain slope somewhere in the suburbs.
It looked like we had arrived at the drama set.

As I rolled my stiff shoulders and looked around, the other passengers were already busily preparing to get off.
Since I had come empty-handed to begin with, there wasn’t really anything to prepare or fuss over, so I was the first to get off the bus while everyone else was still bustling.
“Whew—”

Fresh air, something you’d never feel in the middle of Tokyo, seeped deep into my lungs.
It was a night-and-day difference from the stuffy air inside the bus.
“Uh… young man? We need to get off too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”
At the voice I heard from behind, I hurriedly stepped aside.
The older woman who had been standing by the bus steps slightly bowed her head toward me and hurried off toward the prefab buildings in quick little steps.

It was the same for the others—none of them even made eye contact with me as they rushed past toward the set.
In the end, left alone, I discreetly followed them in the direction of the filming site.
***

The Blue Academy Youth Apocalypse.
That was the name of the drama I’d be appearing in today as an extra.
After hearing from Rika that it was based on an original work, I looked it up once I got home, and it turned out to be a wildly popular series from about ten years ago.

Of course, since it existed only within the world of Scramble Love, it made perfect sense that I’d never heard of it.
Naturally, it had also been made into an anime. I watched a few episodes online and retained just the most basic info in my head.
They’d said it was a role so minor that I’d be lucky to even get one line, so it probably wouldn’t be of much use anyway.
As I followed the people who had been on the same vague shuttle bus into the waiting room tucked in a corner of the set, I heard a familiar voice from far away.

“Ah! Senpai! Over here!”
Minato Naoya, the very person who had scouted me for this extra gig, was waving her hands enthusiastically with a delighted expression.
Thanks to that, all attention in the area instantly turned toward me.

I mean, how many people on set could there be for the nation’s little sister actress to call “senpai”?
Extras and bit-part actors walking ahead of me all looked at me like it was something remarkable, but I, the person in question, just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Still, since she greeted me first, I couldn’t exactly ignore her, so I strode over to her side.

“Ah, is this the upperclassman Miss Minato mentioned?”
“Yes! This is Kim Yu-seong-senpai, Director!”
As she said that, Minato suddenly wrapped herself around my left arm.

Caught off guard by her unexpected move, I tried to subtly pull my body away, but the man who had been called Director let out a hearty laugh a beat faster and clapped me on the shoulder.
“Bwahaha! The photo didn’t do you justice! I like it! As expected of Miss Minato—she always scratches the itch just right!”
Not understanding what was happening, I glanced down at Minato, who stuck her tongue out slightly and said,

“There was originally someone else cast for the role you’re playing today, but I guess they didn’t really match the image the director had in mind. So when I happened to think of you, I showed him your photo, and he begged me to get you cast.”
…So there was a story like that behind this.
With a dazed expression, I looked back and forth between Minato and the director’s faces, then asked something that just came to mind.

“Does the role I’m playing today have any lines? I’ve never done any acting before…”
But the director confidently waved it off.
“You just need to sit down and say one line. In fact, it’s better if it comes off awkward—that’ll make the atmosphere more tense.”

“Ah, okay.”
Well, if he’s saying that much, I guess I’ll be fine.
I decided not to overthink it.

I had already greeted the two of them, so I was about to head toward the extras’ waiting area when the director suddenly called me.
“Wait a moment.”
“…?”

Wondering what it was, I turned around, and the director looked me up and down with a thoughtful hum.
“You wear that cap surprisingly well. The original character wasn’t supposed to wear one, but I think it’ll be fine if you do.”
Saying that, he called over a passing staff member and pointed at me, telling them to bring a gakuran.

“There’s still some time before we shoot your scene, so if you’d like, feel free to look around the set. Just say the director gave you permission, and the staff will be fine with it.”
“Ah, thank you.”
I gave a sincere thank-you for the director’s unexpected kindness.

I’d heard that when filming dramas, extras usually spent long hours waiting around.
So if he was offering me something to do during that time, there couldn’t be anything better.
Honestly, how many chances does a normal person get to visit a drama set in their life?

If I was getting paid 50,000 yen per day and got to tour the set, it was clearly a win-win situation.
“But you know that filming is prohibited, right? I’m assuming you won’t cause any trouble since you’re Miss Minato’s senpai, but still, do be mindful of set security.”
“Yes.”

“Then I’ll see you later, senpai~”
With the two of them seeing me off, I headed toward the waiting area the extras had gone to earlier.
***

The extras’ waiting room was a container.
Unlike main cast actors, most of them were hired individually, so everyone was busy putting on makeup to match their assigned roles.
Normally, a crowd like this would be noisy, but the inside of the container was dead silent.

Because of that, it felt awkward to strike up a conversation with anyone, so I sat alone in a corner and idly played with my smartphone. Then the container door opened and someone came in.
“Who’s playing the role of the delinquent gang leader today—Kim Yu-seong?”
“That would be me.”

Creak—
As I replied and stood up, all eyes in the container turned toward me.
Was the chair really that loud? I wondered, but I steeled my face and walked toward the staff member standing by the door.

The staffer, looking up at me in confusion, held out a uniform and cap and said,
“You’ll be wearing this outfit today. …But are you really a high school student?”
I nodded and took the offered costume.

“Do you want to see my student ID?”
“Ah, no. That’s okay.”
Shaking their head rapidly, the staffer told me to change and be ready since I could be called at any time.

I said okay and went into a small changing booth inside the container to get dressed.
When they said gakuran, I «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» thought of a normal one, but it turned out to be a long-coat type of modified gakuran straight out of a manga from the 1980s.
And once I put on the school cap too, I would literally look like I’d just jumped out of a comic.

It felt more like cosplay than a drama costume, and I wondered if it was really okay, but then I remembered—this was a Japanese drama based on a manga.
In Japanese live-action adaptations, no matter how awkward it looks, they always go with it in the name of staying faithful to the original.
At least I wasn’t wearing a wig, so maybe I should be thankful for that.

Looking into the full-length mirror that only showed up to my neck, I adjusted the modified gakuran I was wearing for the first time, then carefully stepped out of the booth.
The container was still dead silent.
While I’d been in the changing booth, I thought I’d heard people talking, but now it was completely quiet again.

It was probably because of me, so I decided to give them space.
I’d gone out of my way to get permission from the director to tour the filming site—it would be boring to just sit here and wait.
***

Yamada, now in his third year as a bit-part actor, had his own pride and dreams as an aspiring performer.
Even though he was just another nameless newbie now, he held a bold ambition in his heart—to someday stand at the pinnacle of the entertainment world!
With that passion, he worked hard day by day, bouncing from studio to studio.

But one day, a friend who had also been working as a bit-part actor was suddenly removed from his role.
Shocked, Yamada called to ask what had happened, and it turned out the director had simply replaced him, saying they’d found a better actor.
It was a blatant abuse of power, and Yamada wanted to speak up about it, but in the face of harsh reality, there was nothing he could do.

If he made a wrong move, he could lose his own role too.
So he decided to see just how amazing this newcomer parachuted into the role really was.
If the guy turned out to be nothing special, Yamada planned to teach him a bitter lesson as his senior.

But on the day of filming, when Yamada boarded the shuttle bus with firm resolve, he was met with something massive.
Normally, it would be full of familiar faces and noisy chatter, but today, the bus was eerily quiet.
All because of one man sitting silently in the front seat with his eyes closed.

A truly overwhelming presence.
It was as if he were of an entirely different species—a man who exuded the dignity of a king, his baseball cap pulled low as he napped.
The moment he saw that, Yamada understood.

His friend hadn’t been pushed out unjustly.
The role had simply gone to someone far more fitting.
“Hey! Yamada! Sit down already! You’ll wake him up!”

“Ah! Yes!”
Whatever resolve he’d had when first boarding the bus, Yamada now entered the pen like a docile lamb.