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It’s not that Mistuo thinks Iketeru is incapable. Quite the opposite, actually.
It takes immense willpower to remain in character with some of the shenanigans that happen on the set of ‘Together With Maman’, especially regarding some of Uramichi’s… interesting costumes. All of them have developed an immunity to his ridiculous clothes, but sometimes they’re so outlandish that laughter is bound to erupt.
Iketeru manages, again and again, to excel at his role as a children’s show host. He’s all bright smiles and fun auras, the kind of thing that kids flock to. Out of everyone he works with, Mitsuo thinks that he is the most prepared for his role.
So no, there is no doubt about his capability.
Mitsuo watches as Iketeru talks with one of the mothers of a child who was on the show today, smiling widely with laughter in his voice. A few parents are still milling about, so Mitsuo is resigned to keep the bear hat on, even through the scalding summer heat. Usahara appears to be having a similar problem, with the futile, frantic fanning of his face when he thinks no one is looking.
“I just find the work you do so admirable.” The mother gushes, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as her son tugs harshly at her arm. “It must be hard, having to entertain so many kids all day.”
Iketeru laughs lightly. “Oh, it’s not so bad. I really like meeting all the kids!” He turns his million-watt grin to the son, who pauses in his tugging and giggles in return.
“Still,” she continues, taking a step forward, “I find it a shame that such a handsome face has to hide behind a screen all day.”
Mitsuo thinks he knows where this is headed, and a small frown makes its way onto his face. Iketeru seems to have realised as well, as he freezes for a moment to mull that statement over. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Mitsuo turns back to waving at the kids. Iketeru is more than capable to deal with such a situation if he realises what’s happening.
He is quickly proven wrong when Iketeru says, “I’m not hiding behind anything! That’s just what my job is.”
The mother takes another step forward, ignorant of her son’s resistance as she invades Iketeru’s personal space more fully. “Well, I would rather see that face in person. What would you say to meeting-”
“Iketeru Oniisan!” Mistuo calls, walking quickly up to him. He is loath to go much faster; he might actually melt into a puddle if he tries. “Your fellow Oniisan and Oneesan need you.”
“Oh.” Iketeru’s eyes widen, and he promptly bids farewell to the mother to walk up to him. Mitsuo is certain that she is glaring daggers into his back, but he can’t bring himself to care all that much.
“What am I needed for?” He asks, curious gaze drilling into the soft fabric of the Kumao mask. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Mitsuo answers shortly. The two continue to walk in silence, not at all in the direction of Utano and Uramichi, but rather towards the doors of the studio.
A few more beats pass, but eventually Mitsuo has to ask. “Did you know what that lady was trying to do?”
It’s a fair question. Normally, Iketeru would have no clue, but today it appeared as if he had an inkling of an idea scrabbling at the back of his mind. It would certainly help if Iketeru was able to recognise when he’s being hit on, to make it easier to deal with the many admirers he has gained over the years.
Iketeru does not reply. Mitsuo waits a few more seconds, then gently knocks him with his elbow.
“Huh?” He asks, blinking rapidly and looking at Mitsuo blankly. “Did you say something?”
Holding back a sigh, Mitsuo shakes his head. Today isn’t the day that Iketeru learns to fend off his admirers.
As they walk through the delightfully air conditioned hallways, Mitsuo picks back up his earlier train of thought. Iketeru is in no way incapable.
He’s just not the most socially ept.
*
One of the first things Mitsuo realises about him is that he has a hard time saying no.
Unless the situation is life-threatening, pulls him away from Sayuri or will impact someone he cares about, Iketeru has a tendency to say yes to everything and go with the flow. Sometimes Mitsuo envies the ease at which he can appease people and be liked by everyone around him.
But that’s only sometimes. Most of the time, the trait is his downfall.
Derekida had managed to force the cast of ‘Together With Maman’ into some relatively fancy cocktail party, causing Mitsuo to forlornly adorn a suit once more. He thought he’d abandoned such a thing when he got a role wearing a bear suit, but apparently even he can’t outrun corporate events.
He’s lucky that his face is mostly unrecognisable, as most people there avoid him in favour of talking to some of the bigger names. He’s thankful for this reprieve in the otherwise hellish atmosphere.
He finds himself at Iketeru’s side an hour into the event, going where he goes. It’s not that he feels awkward, he just… doesn’t know what to do with himself. He can’t very well leave, because then Derekida will be onto him about being antisocial and will force him to stay longer.
At least he can stop Iketeru from drinking and hanging from the toilet for the rest of the night. Already, Mitsuo has drained four separate flutes of champagne, much to his distaste. Champagne isn’t his favourite, but Iketeru likes it even less.
“Kumatani?” Iketeru questions, after the next lot of fawning company staff has left them. “Are you alright?”
Mitsuo furrows his brow. “Yes. Do I look ill?”
“No, but you’ve drunk a lot of champagne.” He points at the empty champagne flute Mitsuo is spinning idly in his hands.
Truthfully, Mitsuo didn’t think Iketeru had noticed. He’s not known for being the most observant person, and has missed many times before when his drink had been drained in a few seconds. Then again, it has happened four times in the last hour.
“I’m alright.” Mitsuo answers. He remains quiet for another beat, before asking, “How is Sayuri?”
Iketeru’s attention is quickly swayed by his favourite topic, and he begins to ramble about the walk he took her on the other day. His hands gesticulate wildly as he talks, fully invested in the story. At one point he cuts himself off completely, however when Mitsuo glances at him he looks perfectly happy, no doubt daydreaming about Sayuri.
Mitsuo’s eyes dart around the room, eventually fixing on Usahara. Said man raises an eyebrow at him, to which Mitsuo quickly copies. Looking slightly smug, Usahara points at Iketeru and lifts his other eyebrow.
Mitsuo blinks slowly at him, before turning back to Iketeru. Usahara doesn’t know what he’s talking about anyway.