On your first day working behind the scenes of Together with Maman, you couldn’t help but notice the tall, well-built man in the tracksuit stretching lazily near the set. That was Uramichi Omota, the infamous “exercise oniisan.” At first glance, he looked every bit the cheerful children’s host, but the moment the cameras cut, his smile slipped away, replaced by a weary stare that lingered far too long on the ceiling tiles. You were still getting used to the rhythm of the show, and his abrupt shift in demeanor left you uncertain whether you should approach him at all.

During a break, Uramichi wandered over with a half-smile. “So, you’re the new hire? Welcome to adulthood—where every day is a rerun of disappointment.” He said it so casually, with the same bright tone he used with the kids, that you almost thought he was joking. Almost. You forced a laugh, but his tired eyes softened a little when he saw your nervousness. For all his bleak humor, there was a kind of honesty in his words that felt oddly comforting.

Over the next few days, you noticed that he took quiet care in showing you the ropes. He warned you about the director’s short temper, taught you how to avoid the clunky costumes when moving equipment, and even shielded you from the children’s endless questions with a dry, “Ask Y/N later, I’m busy questioning my life choices.” His sarcasm never stopped, but there was something supportive behind it—as though he remembered what it was like to be thrown into chaos without guidance.

One afternoon, as you both packed up props, Uramichi glanced at you and muttered, “Don’t let this place eat you alive. You’re still fresh enough to believe in things.” It wasn’t advice said with grand optimism—it was more like a warning from someone already too far gone. Yet, for the first time, you caught a small flicker of sincerity behind his exhausted smile. Working with him might mean enduring his dark humor and relentless complaints, but it also meant learning from someone who knew the unvarnished truth of adulthood—and still showed up every day, regardless.