Eroge Voice Actress Interviews

The source is the book Bishoujo Game Seiyuu no Oshigoto. My Japanese is half-baked so I can’t read it, obviously—this is a translation by 克雷多 on Douban.

I finally installed a Japanese input method recently so I can type Japanese without romaji. Over New Year I did some more Japanese study and discovered my Gal-reading speed has gotten slower. Before I could listen once and get the gist; now I have OCD and look up every single word…

I really need to set aside time for systematic study…

Both pieces are reposts. Only two actresses were translated: Aoyama Yukari and Hokuto Minami. Reading them taught me a lot about what goes on behind the scenes in Gal.

Normally I don’t repost other people’s stuff, but this seems rare online—I only found it on Douban. If it ever goes down and disappears, that’d be a shame… Treat it as an archive.

Aoyama Yukari

Aoyama Yukari (TL note 1) interview

At the very end of this book is Aoyama Yukari—to anyone familiar with visual novel voice actresses, she’s a powerhouse widely known as the “god of tsundere.” But that’s only one facet of her acting. What does she think about her work? She also talks about what she considers the foundation of an actor.

Was she about to quit right before she debuted? Her encounter with visual novels

—First, please tell us how you came to appear in visual novels.

When I quit the voice agency I was with at the time, I had the thought “maybe I should stop being a voice actress…” Right then a friend invited me: “You’re freelance now, right? There’s this kind of work—want to try it?” That was the trigger. “I don’t really get it, but having work is great, I’ll do it!” That’s what I apparently thought. Come to think of it, I didn’t even know visual novels existed back then. It’s been almost ten years since… long, huh (laughs).

—What was your impression of visual novels when you first started?

I had zero immunity at first, so when I saw character portraits and CGs I’d scream “Waaaaah (blush).” These days… well (laughs). At first I often played minor roles, and the script didn’t have as many lines as now—if my voice portion was about ten percent of the whole game, that was good. I approached my performance entirely as one part of the overall production. That attitude hasn’t changed. As a voice actress, if you don’t keep recording, you regress. So in the sense of maintaining my skill level, this work plays a big role. The thing is, game recording is often just one person, which is basically talking to yourself, so after working like that for a while it can get hard to match someone else’s mannerisms. So I always remind myself not to end up like that. Also, I feel that once I’m away from the job I can’t maintain a character’s speech patterns well. If I can improve on that, I think it’d be a big step forward.

—Acting alone has its downsides. By the way, how do you polish your performance?

Now I only read the script once. In the old days I could read it two or three times. But now scripts are two or three thousand words (TL note 2), and if several of those come in at once, physically I can’t read them all. So first I extract the character’s speech patterns, personality, behavior from the script, build the image in my head, and think about what voice to use. Then, since I’m the type who reads silently, fine-tuning happens at the recording studio—you have to let the production side and the sound director hear it. If my performance is stiff and they point out a mistake, I panic like “Ehhh?” Then I blend the producer’s requests with my own ideas into shape. Something like that. Of course, I often pass the first test.

—Even when you ask for feedback, most people just say “don’t be too stiff.”

Being too stiff and failing to express what the producer wants is putting the cart before the horse. But one thing is certain: in that single read-through, I can properly check kanji, typos and omissions, the flow of emotion, and make sure there are no mistaken expressions, all on the first day of recording. Some people only check their own parts, but I’m the type who reads everything I’m given from start to finish. There are plenty of things you can’t understand unless you read it all—like “Wait! This kid was dead?!” That kind of thing. There are also cases where your character’s foreshadowing appears in another heroine’s route.

—Indeed. Speaking of visual novels, many have tons of foreshadowing and complex settings. And scripts keep getting thicker.

I once saw one that was nominally 4000 words, but a single line ran seven rows, so it was actually about 6000 words. In that case, if you don’t check the volume you’re given beforehand and record at that pace, you have no idea how badly you’ll wreck your throat. I’ve occasionally seen works over ten thousand words. Too many words affects speed, I think. In the old days even a thousand words felt like too much.

—You can’t underestimate game volume these days. If you get a sample of a game you’re in and it’s a thousand words, fine, but ten thousand and you probably can’t even finish it.

More people are playing huge games and only going for the heroine they like. So maybe fewer people clear everything. Also, I think some people skip through to the choice branches because the volume is so large. Having something I performed specially get skipped over makes me feel a bit lonely as a voice actress. And sometimes I worry whether players are satisfied when I perform too by-the-book. Also, no matter how you look at it, making games takes way more effort now than before. Our lines increased and the scripts got bigger, right? So the number of scene CGs they have to prepare goes up too, and the visual quality has to improve compared to before. It’s really something.

The Aoyama quality, backed by trust and track record

—Next, please tell us about roles that left an impression on you or became turning points.

For memorable ones, the GOL～奪還～ series. We recorded that in Hokkaido! Normally games are recorded separately, right? For this one all the voice actresses gathered and recorded it like a drama CD! I made a lot of friends in Hokkaido through that, and the recording format was rare, so I have very happy memories. Then Mikoto (Arima) from Tsuki Kagura. That’s because for a while I got lots of instructions like “please act like Mikoto,” so it left a strong impression. For script content, Serina. For recent works… Mishi (Yutenji) from Kamikaze Explorer! (TL note 3). Also, I quite like Shumon Yuu’s scripts. I was specifically requested for his recent Tenshi no Hane wo Fumanaide. Getting named by a producer or writer I’ve worked with before is really nice.

—That’s what they call stable acting—the trust of “if it’s Aoyama, she’s got it!”

If that’s how it is, I’m happy. Funny thing is, a producer I’ve only worked with once will go “Ah! You’re the one from back then” when we work together again. I’ve been a voice actress for ten years now, and this happens more lately. Being requested by the same production team can be taken as “recognition of my previous work,” and that encourages me and fires me up—nothing makes me happier. So I really have to thank production teams like AXL! Something like that (laughs). We even put out two CDs.

—By the way, what type of character do you yourself strongly associate with?

Tsundere, definitely. The representative one is Otome (Tetsu) from Tsuyokiss. I have all kinds of memories from that work, and the series is still going even now, so it’s memorable. Otome is serious and stern, so I tried performing with a low voice. Playing that kind of role was a valuable experience and I was happy—I told the writer Takahiro that. “That’s exactly the impression I had of this character,” he said. I was actually a bit surprised, so I remembered it. I think the number of low-voiced roles I’ve done is small overall. But low-voiced roles often have tricky tongue-twisters, so I have to be careful. Sure enough, after Otome, my tsundere roles increased.

—But even if you lump them together as tsundere, there are cool types like Otome and characters with a huge gap when they turn sweet. Has that wide range become your strength?

Everyone thinks being well-balanced is better, right? For tsundere. But I’m happy—there’s even the saying “tsundere means Aoyama Yukari!” I’m honored to be recognized like that. As an actor, things like “this is my weapon” are hard to discover on your own. And many people, players especially, gave me all sorts of feedback. Thanks to them I can go “Ah, I see” and notice my strengths—I’m grateful. And conversely, when I play non-tsundere roles I get “she can do these too!” which moves me.

Aoyama Yukari’s work style

—Now please tell us some recording secrets that can finally be revealed.

AXL’s Kimi no Koe ga Kikoeru—we were still recording the day before MASTER UP (TL note 4)! I’d already recorded nearly two thousand words in two days, but I’d decided to go on a trip the next day, so I recorded until eight at night! After that the director called and said “Thanks to you, Aoyama, we MASTER UP’d today!” That game got a remake released in May—please play it! The reason it was such intense recording was the tight schedule (laughs). Looking back now, AXL games have short individual lines, so recording them is actually hard work! But Shikishima Sakura, who I played, was pretty popular, so it’s memorable in many ways.

—Whoa!!! Recording that much in two days is amazing!!! And you actually made it… Anything else?

I’ve seen some outrageous scripts! Not only was it horizontal writing (TL note 5), there was no line spacing at all—tiny letters crammed into the whole page!

—Even a layman would have to complain about that.

Horizontal writing is hard enough to read, and with tiny crammed letters it’s hard to find your lines and notes. So I raised the issue, hoping it’d improve in the future. After that I’d often get asked “Is this line spacing and font size okay?” and I’d answer “I think it’s fine, it’s much easier to read now” (laughs). The production side wants to hear these requests from voice actresses beforehand too. Honestly, if they don’t, I don’t think we can perform as well. Even if the text is too small or lines aren’t numbered… everyone will still work hard. But if you’re going to do it, you should do it as well as possible, so I made the request. I want to work with sincerity.

—I hope the production side is sincere too.

That way both sides can do their best, right? I think we could make good works that way, but sometimes it doesn’t happen. Also, I want to deliver good work to players—getting feedback like “a character who wasn’t my favorite before starting the game became my favorite after clearing it” makes me happiest. That’s because, not to mention the creators’ efforts, my performance, even a little, moved the player and got their recognition. If you put it that way, the value of the work changes, doesn’t it.

The foundation of an actor

—Let’s change the subject. Are there character types or story types you want to try in the future?

Lots and lots… from older to younger types. So, to avoid being locked into a specific character frame, I want to play a wider range. With that in mind, I have the thought “I want producers with a strong spirit of challenge!” I once also played an obsessive mother role—I’d like to throw that kind of curveball again. Another experience: my main role had 4000 words, and the dog I also played had a considerable number of lines too.

—Was that a talking dog or a normal dog?

A normal dog that goes “Woof woof!” It was in Harukoi＊Otome. The staff gave it a big “So cute~” review. Since you can’t tell who’s playing that kind of role, I thought “there’ll be more dog roles in the future, I guess?” (laughs). The script clearly noted the dog’s emotions, which was a big help.

—Finally, please tell us your outlook as voice actress Aoyama Yukari.

I want to keep playing all kinds of roles, pouring my heart into each one. People often say I did well in older works, which makes me happy as an actor. Is that recognition of how desperately I acted…? Those are things I’ll never forget, and I hope to keep them in my memory.

—I’m sure they’re in your memory.

I hope so… I often feel I lack confidence. Come to think of it, the foundation of an actor is leaving an impression in the audience’s memory. Yeah, when you think “what will I create,” that’s basically creating your own reason to exist, or your reason to live. Of course, that’s also a joy. Luckily I get many such opportunities, and I want to keep at it humbly and steadily! And anyway, I want to appear in works that try new things. Visual novels—I feel like stories and worldviews have been pretty much exhausted, so I want to try new recording methods. For example, using stereo recording (TL note 6) so you can feel where the other person is—that’d be fun. Though I bet that kind of recording would be unexpectedly laborious (laughs).

—Doing that would definitely leave an impression too (laughs). Thank you for your valuable words!

TL note 1: The Chinese wiki translation.
TL note 2: Game recording is paid by word count, and the concept of a "word" is vague—sometimes a whole page of "mmm" doesn't count for much.
TL note 3: The book was published April 30, 2012.
TL note 4: The master disc that holds game data and is used to produce game discs is called the MASTER disc. MASTER UP basically means the game is complete; next comes production, distribution, and sales.
TL note 5: Japanese formal publications are vertically written; Japanese people are used to reading top to bottom.
TL note 6: This technology was already implemented in the *Muv-Luv* series.

Hokuto Minami

Hokuto Minami is one of the voice actresses who has been active since the dawn of voice in visual novels. Because of that, she has tons of anecdotes. From them, you can see how recording work changed over more than a decade.

At first everyone recorded together?

—First, please tell us how you debuted. It was when I was “technically at an agency, but not a full employee.” One day the receptionist said, “There’s work on ’that kind’ of game—what do you think?” But at the time neither of us knew much about visual novels, and all I was told was “it has H scenes.” I replied “I don’t know what it’s like since I’ve never done this work, but I want something to do, so no problem!” and it felt like I had a job. Yeah, it was way more intense than I expected.

—That was also when games started having voices. What did you find so intense? Back then, first of all, the script only had your own character’s lines. So you had no idea who else was in it, under what circumstances, or what lines they’d say. You can’t do that now, but it was OK then. The very first work I was in, we recorded with everyone gathered together like in anime. I wasn’t used to it and was nervous, couldn’t open my mouth, and caused trouble for everyone. On top of that, it was my first time seeing a script, and all I could think was “I don’t want to read such long text…” (laughs)

—So that recording method existed. But seeing the script for the first time at the recording… For about the first two years, that’s how we recorded. Games weren’t fully voiced like now—they were partially voiced, and even “those” scenes were recorded with everyone together. But I really pushed myself to act in “those” scenes. Why? It’s fine if the producer and sound engineer are listening, but having fellow actors listening is incredibly embarrassing. So I couldn’t even say normal lines.

—Yeah, having people in the same booth listening is embarrassing. Right. Also, I’ve always loved games—I used to play Dragon Quest while dubbing it~~ So no matter what kind of game, the thought of games having voices made me happy! But back then I didn’t have a PC, so I couldn’t play those voiced games (laughs). Not long after entering the industry, I went with a voice actress friend who was in the same work to check out a game store—since only women were going, we dragged a guy along (laughs). I remember putting my own game in front of the display shelf and getting scolded by the clerk. Fun times~~ And being able to confirm your own work is in the store.

Script changes = improved recording conditions

—So you made the clerk angry (laughs). For the male customers too, a woman entering what’s practically a sacred ground must have surprised them. By the way, did recording change over those ten-plus years? First, the number of lines increased. Sometimes so much that even just reading them felt awful (laughs). Eventually it became physically painful. At first, a whole game was about 500 words (TL note 1). We recorded together, so it took two or three days. Later, with solo recording, it shortened to one day. Gradually the volume grew to take several days to a week, roughly like that. Then the script. As I mentioned, at first the lines were extracted separately, so you couldn’t understand the situation at all. When the word count was small it wasn’t a big problem, but by the time a work had 2000–3000 words, I finally thought “I can’t act because I don’t understand the emotions or the scene.” And the script was horizontal writing. Horizontal writing is really hard to read (TL note 2).

—I’ve never seen horizontal writing (laughs). But with 2000–3000 words, there’s a lot of drama, and on top of that, a lot of psychological description, right? So I asked the producer, “Please at least tell me the context.” Instead I got shut down with “Nobody has ever said that before!” (laughs). Even so, I didn’t give up, and in the end I got the full script. For example, some scenes only have a single “mm” line—who is that “mm” directed at? If you only look at the extracted line, you can’t understand at all! Obviously, if you can’t grasp the whole conversation, you can’t control the character. So I argued that to convey emotions better to the players, we absolutely needed to read the full script. After that, I raised various opinions from the actor’s perspective. I think I wasn’t the only one doing that.

—What other proposals did you have? For example, the script. Before, all the text, including your own lines, was the same size. For works with few words it didn’t matter, but with thousands of words, just finding your own lines took considerable effort, and no matter how careful you were, you’d miss some. So now those parts are marked with larger, bolder font. Also, lines used to have no numbers, so if you missed one or two, you couldn’t notice at the time, and in the end you’d have to re-record, costing studio fees. I don’t like leaving problems alone, so I made suggestions and they were resolved. Thanks to that, we now have a pleasant, comfortable recording environment. Well, sometimes other characters’ lines get bolded by mistake, so we still have to check (laughs).

Recording secrets too wild to tell—now I can

—When the word count reaches the thousands, no matter how carefully you check, you’ll miss typos and omissions. Yeah, you can’t be too demanding about that, so on the recording day I check just in case. Uh, lately I feel the production side’s awareness has changed. Before, there were quite a few producers who just thought “as long as there’s voice.” So they didn’t ask much of the voice actresses’ acting, and there was a subtle attitude of treating voice actresses like disposable goods.

—But that would lower motivation and affect game quality. Exactly! I really hate that. The voice actresses appearing also want to make a good work, understand the story’s development and build the character, and contribute to sales—I really want the production side to understand all the efforts voice actresses make for that. So I’d read scripts without sleep and respond to unreasonable demands… like working from ten in the morning to ten at night.

—Twelve hours straight sounds like an excessive burden. That’s why it’s impossible now! In those days I couldn’t help protesting, and got the reply “It’s just moving your mouth.” I couldn’t stand it—I remember saying something like “I can’t do this! I’m going to die!” Probably everyone who debuted around the same time as me went through similar efforts. During recording, getting a fax with a huge amount of additional script making the line count absurdly increase wasn’t rare either. So now really is a great era. Recording conditions have improved in various ways, and we truly feel respected as voice actresses. Everyone really benefits—work is easier and recording is more fun. Precisely because the production side helps us so much, we can keep striving to improve ourselves and make the best work we can. In other words, it’s a relationship of growing together.

—It’s thanks to the painful efforts of voice actresses including you that recording conditions improved. Before and now, game production—with writers and artists at the lead—everyone on the production side does their best to make a hit. But regarding sound, there were a lot of things that were, well, questionable. Back then there was no specialized knowledge or technology for visual novel recording, and in fact sound was outside the production side’s expertise. From that perspective, many of today’s producers and voice actresses are in this profession out of love, so I think things are really good now.

—So does that sincere attitude connect to your profession? Is that a thing? No way. I used to find work annoying (laughs).

A big-name voice actress’s tale of hardship

—Come to think of it, I remember you appeared in a hell of a lot of titles in the early 2000s, Hokuto-san. Didn’t that wreck your throat? My throat’s pretty tough, so at the time I figured it’d be fine. But there was still a stretch where I couldn’t work. Around 2003–2004, I think — my health was bad, I’d push through recording during the day, then at night my voice would just die, and by the next morning all I could manage was a raspy hiss, literally just air leaking out of my mouth! Explaining that to people was hard, and I had no idea what to do, so I rushed to the hospital, and sure enough the diagnosis was vocal overuse. To recover as fast as possible, the doctor told me to stay as quiet as I could. Basically a life where I couldn’t stand noise and couldn’t even watch TV. That was because sound coming in through the ears makes the vocal cords vibrate too, apparently — but at the time all I could think was, “How the hell am I supposed to survive this?” And no matter how much I pushed the work back, I could only get less than a month off. I really had to rest up properly and get through it!

—Recovering in a month is impressive… Also, my first bout of hay fever hit around then too. So for a while I had a nasal voice, and before recording I’d ask, “If possible, could we do this the day after tomorrow instead?” And even then, that day I still recorded about a thousand words. “You’ve still got a nasal voice, haven’t you — I look forward to you being better the day after tomorrow,” the producer said. Then two days later it turned out that part had to be redone. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” I thought. (laughs)

—Even though you’d warned them before recording. (laughs) Seriously! Oh, and around 2002–2003, I often had to record voice actress chats for game clear bonuses and magazine supplements, and my record was saying “Come buy it♡” in six different games in one day. Honestly, it was painful. I remember thinking, “This job is brutal!!” (laughs)

—That’s just cruel. (laughs) By the way, is your house already buried in scripts just from work? It is! Speaking of scripts, a lot of the time they’re too bulky to carry around, so I’d box them up and ship them home. I checked scripts at the dining table at home, and when things were busy I didn’t even have room to eat. As for what to do with the scripts after recording — since everything has to stay secret until the game ships, you have to shred them. So I went out and bought a shredder, but the sheer volume of paper actually broke it. (laughs) And lately the scripts have gotten longer, so of course checking takes longer. Which means sometimes I’ll pick up a different script to clear my head — and end up making myself dizzy.

Script-checking is a thorny road?

—Speaking of checking scripts, what about the actual acting? In games, the characters are basically just still images, so I go back over my lines again and again and build the emotion and the scene in my head. Some of it comes out really well. Of course, at the audition I first read the lines the way I picture them for the producer and the sound director, and after that we hash it out together. Lately I get a lot of freedom, and there are more times when I don’t check the script all that carefully.

—That’s impressive too. So you read the lines and project the most fitting image as you go? That’s exactly why not being careful leads to a lot of mistakes. For example, when I’m playing the heroine, her lines are surrounded by a ton of the male lead’s dialogue, so while checking I’ll sometimes slip into the male lead’s perspective without noticing. “Wait, this isn’t my character!” (laughs)

—Quick question — has anything changed about how you check scripts? Early on I’d read every line out loud, but these days the volume just keeps shooting up! It’s about the length of several novels. So if I read the whole thing aloud the day before, I won’t have a voice the next day. Lately I only read the important parts aloud. Basically, I want recording to go smoothly, so I confirm how to read the kanji and get a grasp of the plot beforehand. Making the producer wait because I delayed recording would be a nuisance. If anything I want to record early. So I take good notes at the pre-recording meeting. Only once did I fail to check the script beforehand and ended up reading it cold during recording. I wasn’t feeling well, and I just meant to rest my eyes for a bit that night — next thing I knew it was morning. I thought I was completely screwed, but I just had to power through. And even then, the recording moved the writer to tears. It was the first time I’d made someone cry, but man, it still hurt. (laughs) After that I started taking better care of myself and I’ve got a little more room to check scripts now.

—With the amount of script you have to confirm in advance growing, this kind of thing happens easily. But no matter how carefully you prepare, there are still days when pages get added on the spot. If you annotate the script right there, you can still keep up. Speaking of which, here’s a funny one. There were 1,000 words total, and I was told the part that wasn’t in the script would be handed to me on the day of recording. When I checked the script, it looked like only about 100 words, so I figured they’d mixed up 100 and 1,000. Turns out there were 900 extra words on recording day. (laughs) You only get the studio for a little while, and time is precious, so taking it slow to check… isn’t happening. In the end I read it one line at a time.

So it’s possession-style line polishing?

—Once the script check is done, it’s finally time to polish the performance. How do you get into a character, Hokuto-san? I’m the type who has all sorts of ideas at first, but once recording starts I just pour in the emotion. (laughs) So the hardest for me are characters with wild emotional swings — for example, the energetic types I play a lot, in scenes where they speak in a flat, subdued tone. It clashes with their usual personality and really throws me off. Well, if I just ride the momentum I can get through it. (laughs) I think about things like, would this character talk like this at this age? After that kind of prep, I rarely get told my performance doesn’t match the character.

—I’ve heard that for some people, getting too deep into the role makes it hard to adjust the performance. That does seem to be true. It’s really tough. In my case, I line up the candidate voices I’ve decided on in my head, and then the audition goes through so fast that I never get to show the other approaches before we’re recording for real. (laughs) Really, the most fun part is when everyone’s going “hmm, hmm” at the audition deciding how the character should be played. Everyone’s tried all sorts of things, and here’s a funny story. There was this game with two heroines, and I was playing one of them. Well, “two heroines,” but mine wasn’t the main one. Anyway, after the audition the producer pulled me aside for some reason. What he said was basically, “You’re playing her cuter than the main heroine, and that’s a problem for us — please tone it down.” I just felt completely drained. (laughs)

—That’s the first time I’ve heard an instruction like that! For a game you need a certain balance between characters, so there’s nothing to be done about it. By then I’d been in the business several years, so I could handle it with a different approach.

—As expected of a veteran. On the flip side, are there any attributes you struggle with? More than attributes, it’s situations. I have no resistance to ghost stories. Horror stuff — thriller movies, that kind. There used to be tons of that style of work, and just reading the script made me uncomfortable, thinking, “Can I make it to the end of recording…?” (laughs) I seem to have a more vivid imagination than most people, so when I’m acting out something gross, I imagine the fictional scene as if it were real. Lately I don’t do that kind of work much, though.

—So then, depending on the situation, a yandere character wouldn’t be hard? I did one recently — Francisca in BLOODY RONDO. She’s a loli character, but a terrifying kid who can kill people casually while smiling. But to her there’s no guilt in killing, so I had no problem playing her.

—So as long as it’s from the perpetrator’s side, it’s fine? Ah, that’s right! I can’t do victims — the kind who take a hit and scream “Aaaah it hurts it hurts aaah.” (laughs)

Crying along with the emotion during recording?

—Next, please tell us about a role or work that left an impression. Reconquista, I think. I played Kuriha, one of the heroines, the male lead’s daughter Momiji, and the male lead’s mother-in-law Momiji — three generations, all me. So it left a deep impression, and I’m in it the whole way through. Another one with multiple roles… in Soukou Akki Muramasa I played about 18 people, though 8 of them were kids. (laughs) But they were all around the same age. My first reaction was of course “I can’t do this!” but even so the voice director encouraged me, “It’s fine, you can do it!” And after recording he pumped me up with “See? You could do it!”

—Is that being pumped up or just recklessness? (laughs) For serious works like Soukou Akki Muramasa, the recording studio is often surprisingly cheerful. The first series I ever did was Tori×Tori Ecchi Shite Kunnai to Itazura Shichau Zo?, and that was my first time playing a Kansai-dialect character. Another one was Kiss to Maou to Koucha, my first time playing a so-called otokonoko, and that left an impression. At the meeting before recording I suggested to the producer, “I’d like to play him like a boy,” but I got “No no, if possible please play him as a girl! A normal, cute girl.” So I gave it a try, and the character turned out to be pretty popular, which surprised me. And then there’s Kisa Hinata in Subarashiki Hibi. When I read the script I cried so hard it hurt. It was so sad and so frightening that I closed the book and stopped reading for a while. Hinata starts out giving off a don’t-come-near-me vibe, with a low voice, but in front of the savior-like protagonist she changes a great deal, and in the end reaches an unimaginable conclusion. At that development I thought, “Am I going to be okay mentally…” but I also felt my heart turning a little sick. Like that, I poured my emotions into Hinata, and after recording I felt incredibly refreshed — how should I put it… a strong sense of accomplishment. Like “I did it!” Muv-Luv was the same. In that one, the Tamase Miki I played leaves a letter at the end, right? But that letter is obviously a will! So I was already sobbing at the script-check stage. If I stayed that sad the whole time I wouldn’t be able to perform the next day. On recording day I told the producer, “I cried at this scene… I’m not sure I can get through it without crying.” “No problem, I believe in you!” he said. I told myself it was fine and psyched myself up to record. (laughs) Even so, I cried anyway. (laughs) But I knew that wasn’t good, and I absolutely had to keep the performance intact, so it went OK in one take.

—So you cry easily because you’re easily swept up in the character’s emotions? That’s right, I cry easily. A senior once taught me, “If you really cry in a touching scene, you can’t act anymore, so you mustn’t actually cry.” When I’m checking the script I cry as much as I want, but during the actual recording, once I’m immersed in the character’s emotions, I end up crying anyway. Compared to before, though, I can look at characters more objectively now, and the times I cry excessively have decreased. The first five years in the business were rough.

—Using tears to build up momentum is a first for me. (laughs) Any other characters? Kuudere are fun~~ Like Ayami in Natsu Shoujo (translator’s note 3), Primula in SHUFFLE!, and so on. At first I thought a lot about how to build the character, and performing with a flat, uninflected tone gradually becomes interesting. The process of that kind of character growing closer to the protagonist and gradually showing emotion is fascinating. From my side too, watching that happen is fun. Later the producer would instruct, “She’s developed feelings now, so please play her as a normal girl,” and after that I’d play her more cheerfully. In that sense, seeing a calm, honest character change just a little is also fun. I love that point where the tone and inflection shift.

—I get that! It’s fun from the performer’s side too. And then, as I’ve said before, no matter what kind of character it is — a villain, or a so-called antagonist who bullies the protagonist — if she’s a girl, she definitely has something cute about her. So I take those cute bits flickering in and out and think, “Let’s add a ♡ here♪” while checking the script, and if I get an NG during recording I think, “Tch, went too far,” and dial it back. (laughs) If it’s OK, I cheer quietly. In that sense, adding cuteness to characters the producer calls “this one isn’t cute at all” is genuinely fun. The character designs are so good, after all.

Veterans get reckless too — the challenges ahead.

—I see. So is there a role where you felt, “I changed after playing this!”? Honestly, I don’t think I’m good at playing OO, and I still struggle with those scenes. If anything, I used to have a higher voice and more energy, so maybe I looked like I was doing better? The thing I mentioned earlier requires pushing your voice up high, so it can’t last long. That part I basically just get through on sheer voice technique. (laughs) At some point I told a sound production company, “I’d rather play supporting roles than leads!” Every company puts care into their supporting characters, and they’re full of personality, so they’re a blast to play. So at first I did both leads and supporting roles, and gradually it became just supporting roles. Around then, on one production, the producer confided, “Ahh~~ this time I was really torn about which role to give you, Hokuto-san~~” There were six characters in the game, so I said, surprised, “Huh? What do you mean?” “Because you can play any of them, so I just need you to take whatever’s left.”

—That’s more than enough to spare! (laughs) “Whaaat~! Hold on~!” was all I could think. (laughs) I said, “Then where’s my necessity?” and got “See, I told you, you can play all of them!” I remember snapping back, “That’s just ‘jack of all trades, master of none’!”

—Since your necessity as someone who “can play anything” is so highly valued, you should just accept it with good grace. (laughs) I can accept it now. (laughs) Speaking of which, there’s also the reverse pattern: “At the script-writing stage, it was already decided that Hokuto-san would play this one!” Which is probably why the any-role-is-fine situation happens. Every once in a while I do get anxious about whether my performance really fits the character. Well, having a role tailor-made for you is really rare, and I’ve thought it’d be nice if it were always like that. (laughs) Really, doing this work for so long, all these fun things happen — it’s a joy.

—Any other anecdotes? There was a period when I kept playing really low-voiced characters. Aoba in Kazoku Keikaku, Youme in Nee, Chanto Shiyou Yo!, and so on. All seductive roles. But at the time I didn’t really get what those characters were, so it took a lot of effort. (laughs) Yeah, for a while I played more high-voiced characters, and it felt like an acting test. Thanks to that, I now have an image for every energetic and cheerful character. Having all these varied performing experiences is genuinely rare, but there really are too many, and sure enough I’ll think “this is just like OO.” I don’t like that, so I try to change something every time. But man… it’s hard. Still, as an actor, these are definitely worthwhile things to do.

—Then finally, please tell us your goals for the future. Building characters is the most fun, of course. Overconfidence is a big no-no, but my throat really is tough. I’ll do what I can and keep at this work. At least another five years… hey, isn’t that too short! (laughs) Actually I want to keep doing it forever. But honestly, when I perform in a cute voice going “eheh♡,” sometimes I feel incredibly embarrassed, like “Waaah! I can’t do this!” Well, if I said that out loud I’d be finished. (laughs) And then, I’d like to try properly playing a normal boy. Also Kansai dialect — I can speak it, rare as that is (translator’s note 4), so I want to put it to use in my work. What else… soft, fluffy, round, dopey characters (translator’s note 5), which I haven’t played much. Mr. Producer, I’m begging you for a role like that! — that kind of feeling.

—Producers reading this book, we await your requests! Thank you very much, Hokuto Minami, for joining us today!

Translator's notes
1. Game recording is paid by word count, and the concept of a "word" is vague — sometimes a whole page of "nnn" doesn't count for much.
2. I feel like adding a note here is redundant, but Japanese print books are written vertically.
3. The text says this, but the official site lists her as Azuma Ayami (東 絢水).
4. Hokuto Minami is from Osaka Prefecture.
5. The original says "honnyaka shita character," which I couldn't find a meaning for; according to one seasoned player, "Oh, that's the kind of girl with a really soft voice who's a bit dopey and round."