Crimson petals shiver in the cold night air,
Whispers of loss tangled in the roots of despair.
A heart, once bright, now withers unseen,
Its shadowed sorrow drifts where it had once been.
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The station clock blinked at 11:47 p.m.
Tokyo's late-summer heat should have been stifling, yet the night carried an out-of-season chill that sliced through the neon haze.
She stood beneath the railway bridge, one hand clutching the strap of a bag that suddenly felt too light.
Inside were the last fragments of a career: a cracked compact mirror, an unsigned contract, and a phone that hadn't buzzed in weeks.
The agency's words still looped in her head, thin and polished like the glass door that had closed behind her hours ago.
"Thank you for your hard work. We'll be moving in a new direction."
The woman laid her hand on the wall, eyes gazing down.
It's only been a few hours since she lost her idol life. But hey, look at the bright side: no more strict diets, no more excruciating training, and no more...
She took out her phone, checking her balance.
80,000 Yen.
She fell silent once more. 80,000 yen wouldn't be enough to survive the month.
There's rent, essential needs, and several bills she needs to pay.
"Damn it..." She muttered, exiting the station as she slipped into Kabukicho.
Kabukicho, notorious. The woman gulped as she passed through its alleyways.
This is stupid. She thought, trodding deeper into the murky streets as the faint neon glow of its infamous "amenities" reached her eyes.
Signs upon signs upon signs, everywhere you'd look, there would be advertisements for host clubs, a love hotel or two near said clubs.
There were even women like her who roamed these streets, though they're already far gone.
Painted faces, excessive makeup, lipstick red as blood. Any man desperate enough would go here to enjoy guilty pleasures.
To be fair, both parties benefit, though only one bears the shame of this exchange.
As she stepped on Kabukicho's puddled paths, a soft crunch came from her heel. She raised her foot, a dead cigarette bud.
"..."
She could almost smell the air just from the sight of it. Cigarette smoke, alcoholic breath, and the usual nose killer of piss coming from the back alleys.
After a few minutes of wandering, the woman found herself in front of the glass doors of a bar club. Faint lights of red and purple shone from the other side as she opened.
The smell was much more intense compared to the outside, which was already horrible on its own. To the side was a man with golden chains, two women on each arm. His goons were right by his side, drinking to their heart's content.
To her left were two souls, already gone, having at each other. Every noise, every moan, she quickly walked towards the counter as the music intensified.
"What would it be, miss?" The bartender said, eyes focused on his phone.
The woman said nothing, only laying her head on the counter.
The bartender sighed, taking out a bottle of sake as he poured her a glass.
"Rough day?" He put a bud into his mouth, lighting it.
She nodded, gulping down the glass. A thud sound formed as she put it down.
It took at least three more shots to lift her sorrows away.
By that point, she had already left the club, hammered, feeling her stomach twinge as she ran towards a back alley.
It was when she heard the footsteps behind her that everything turned black.
Grunts, small chuckles, then a loud thud against what seemed to be a van.
All she remembered was her own screams.
Useless cries for help like "Stop!", pointless attempts to force her way out, hopeless jabs as she heard the sound of her clothes ripping.
Then nothing.
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August 12, 2033
Recent police reports show that former idol...
A new scene began. I was seated in the backseat of Elise's car as Shibuya passed me by. Minami was right beside me, playing with her phone. Fortunately, we were wearing the same uniform; I have to thank Kanae for that.
My earbuds were hung on as I scrolled through the headlines, the news playing in the background.
She was found deceased in her apartment in what was likely a suici—
I cut the news off, sighing while looking through the window.
An idol's suicide.
These weren't rare in the entertainment industry. People who hit rock bottom and are forced to dig even deeper sometimes don't come back.
But in the world of stardom, you don't even need to reach the bottom. Sometimes the fall is enough.
I just hope her soul rests in peace somewhere. What a horrible fate.
I have to stay positive for now; it isn't my problem anyway.
Outside the window, Shibuya blurred into a stream of vehicles and buildings as we arrived on a bridge.
I leaned into my seat. "Hey, Minami."
The sounds from her game stopped. "What?"
"How sure are you about entering the industry?"
"Very!" Minami grinned. "I have Mom's looks, and probably her talent. I'll be even better than her in no time."
I stared blankly at her. "You sure sound confident for someone who barely passed the entrance exams."
"At least I passed!" She leaned closer, puffing.
Elise spoke up as the car began to slow down. Minato High's gates were right in front of us.
"Be quiet. We're here."
Minami sat up. "Yes, ma'am!"
I rolled my eyes, holding my bag as the car came to a stop.
We stepped out, feeling the breeze as Minato High's campus stood in front of us.
The main gates rose wide and sturdy, painted in a muted gray that matched the surrounding walls. Beyond them stretched a courtyard lined with neatly trimmed hedges and a row of cherry trees, their leaves falling faintly in the late-summer wind.
Students were already trickling in through the gates, most in the same navy blazers and white shirts, their chatter mixing with the hum of the traffic behind us.
The main building loomed at the center—four stories of pale concrete and glass, its lines decorated with several banners of black, white, and blue.
Everything about this place was beyond what I imagined.
A place for the elites, huh.
We waved goodbye to Elise as we strode through the pathway beside the parking lot.
"This place is amazing!" Minami said, starry-eyed as she sped past me.
"Slow down. It's still half an hour till eight."
She ignored me; obviously, I had to walk faster to catch up.
There were already several students staring at us.
Thanks, Minami. Look at what you did.
We managed to arrive near the gymnasium without garnering any more attention. I held Minami by the back of her collar as we strode through the shaded walkways.
"Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?"
"What? Me? Who are you talking about?" Minami crossed her arms. I could see the pout on her face.
I ignored her, letting go of her collar as we walked side by side. There were several students walking about, chatting, and making friends. Being first-year students here meant we had to make a good first impression.
This gremlin beside me almost ruined that.
I sighed, turning my gaze to my right.
To my surprise, there was someone here just like me.
Her hair was platinum blonde, long and curled at the tips, catching the light like it had been styled for a magazine cover—which I suspect. Her eyes were a sharp amber, unblinking. She wore the same uniform, but her badge gleamed with gold instead of silver, blinking with every second.
She held her bag in front, both hands holding the sling.
The way she walked spoke of regality as well. Her back was straight, chest upfront, and her stride was calm and composed.
And while the other students whispered and parted around her, she was side-eyeing me.
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The opening ceremony passed by in seconds. There wasn't much interesting going on, just the usual principal's to the student council president's speech. Surprisingly, Minami stayed quiet and sat through most of it.
Although I couldn't help but feel watched.
Was it that girl again?
Everyone was already leaving their seats as the ceremony concluded. Minami was stretching her arms, yawning—I guess that must be why she's been so quiet.
I turned around.
Nothing.
Huh, must be my imagination.
We left the gymnasium, wandering through the halls until we found a large clumped group of students surrounding a notice board.
The class assignments must be posted there.
As we walked closer, Minami immediately jabbed at my arm.
"Come o—!"
I covered her mouth for a brief moment.
"What?"
"We aren't in the same class." She said in a low voice, pointing at the board.
I checked the notice board, but it was quite hard since everyone in the cluster was shoving each other around.
And there it was.
Class C - 1
...
Shizuka Minami
Expected, she barely passed, after all.
I read a blog online beforehand that said they assign classes based on performance, which meant that one class would have the "elite" group, the other would be in the weaker group; all classes between must be middling.
I checked once more.
Class A - 1
...
Shizuka Miyamura
I patted Minami on the back as we separated from the crowd.
"The good news, at least, is that I won't have to spend eight hours with you."
"Hey!" She elbowed me. "Aren't you supposed to be worried for me?"
"Why should I?" I replied. "You have mom's looks, right? You said so yourself, didn't you?"
The truth is that first impressions are largely based on your appearance. Both Minami and I fit into the Goldilocks zone of this spectrum purely because of genetics—thanks, Mom.
Worrying for Minami in terms of her social status is comparable to worrying about whether people wouldn't like receiving an all-expenses-paid vacation trip all around the world.
In conclusion, there's absolutely no need.
She split ways with me soon enough as we entered our respective classrooms.
As I arrived, what met me was... nothing.
I must be the first one here.
The classroom was clean, unusually clean. All 25 chairs were lined up, the teacher's desk was polished, and only the sound of the wind blowing from the open windows filled the silence.
I took my seat, there, at around two seats from the back of the 5th row, and had my name labeled on it.
As I dropped my bag, the door creaked behind me.
"Shizuka..." The voice, slightly deep and feminine, called.
I looked up, and the girl from before was standing there by the open door.
"Yes?"
"Ah, it's nothing." She smiled, stepping towards my seat. "I take it that you're related to Minami Shizuka?"
How does she know who—
"How do I know?" She chuckled, taking the seat beside me. "A friend of mine told me about the 'unbelievably cute' girl she tutored; she even said that the girl was planning on entering the same high school as me."
She must know who Kanae is.
"What about you?" I asked. "What's your name?"
"Suzune Amamiya." She offered a hand.
I shook it, showing her a smile. "You said your friend told you about Minami, right?"
She hummed, opening her bag.
"That friend wouldn't happen to be Kanae Sugimori, would it?"
"She happens to be."
"How do you know her?" I let go of her hand, crossing my arms over my desk.
"That?" Amamiya said, placing a finger on her chin. "We're part of the same agency, Kanae told me she transferred through your help, Shizuka."
Same agency... Is this girl a model? Like Kanae?
"Oh?" I gave a small laugh. "I never knew. How is she doing?"
"She's doing well. I've shared a few jobs with her, too. Oh," She looked straight at me, smile still intact, "and you can drop the act, we both know who you really are."
My fingers stiffened on the desk. I felt a jolt run through my body,
What?
Suzune's smile thinned into something sharper as she tapped at her phone. She held the screen out for me to see, her amber eyes steady, voice cool.
"Consider this as recognition," she said, her tone stripped of its earlier warmth.
"From one liar to another."
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I was back in my room, lying on the bed, my mind still processing what had happened hours earlier.
The blinds had already been closed, the clock was ticking, and the air conditioner was emitting its continuous hum.
I held my phone above my face, her contact information glowing from the screen.
Just who are you really, Amamiya? I asked myself.
The sudden buzz caught me by surprise.
Suzune Amamiya calling...
At this hour?
I looked at the clock. It was almost midnight.
Deep breaths, Miyato. I answered the call, putting my phone against my ear.
"Good evening~" She greeted, voice akin to sing-song.
"I thought you said to drop the act, Amamiya."
"Sorry," She replied, the cold tone returning, "muscle memory. You don't know how many times I have to do this in front of people, it's quite exhausting."
Amamiya continued. "You can call me Suzune, you know? We're both liars, aren't we?"
"Fine, Suzune." I sat up on the bed. "So, why did you call me? If you're here for small talk, I'm hanging up."
"I know you won't. You're too curious, after all." She said bluntly. "I know because we both have the same thought process."
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Suzune lay on her bed, front facing down as she flipped a page of a book. Her elbow rested on the soft sheets as she held her phone up.
"Just tell me why you're calling this late," Miyato said from the other side.
"I want to ask you for a favor." She said, flipping another page.
"What favor?"
Suzune smirked, closing the book before sitting upright, legs crossed.
"I'm sure you've heard about it, right?"
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"The idol suicide?" Said Suzune.
The suicide. The one from that news blog.
"Yeah, is your favor related to that?"
A soft hum came.
"Miyu Tachibana.
22 years old
Suicide
The police ruled it as that, but the body tells a different story."
My eyes widened, standing up from my bed as I made my way towards the desk, turning on the lamp, and sitting down in the chair.
"How do you know all this?"
"Connections."
I took out a notebook and pen, placing my phone on the side. "You can't just talk about someone's death and say 'connections'."
A brief moment of silence followed as I heard a flick sound coming from her side.
"You want to protect Minami, don't you?"
I didn't answer.
"Based on your interactions with Kanae, you must have quite the knowledge about the entertainment industry." She said. "Your sister wants to enter that same industry, whether you like it or not, which is why I'm asking this of you."
Suzune Amamiya. I wrote the name down in my notebook.
So far, she's shown that she knows a lot about my life, my motives, and what I'm willing to do to protect my sister. This could be through Kanae, but I'm sure I haven't disclosed any important information during those five months prior.
I began writing again. Deductive reasoning?
Because she's been so insightful, that would be a possibility.
She's also a part of the entertainment industry. I don't know what her specific job is, but it's likely that she's a model.
However, her pushing this fact about Minami could mean that it's related to her. Whether it's to coerce me into accepting this deal is up to assumptions, though there is a non-zero chance that this might affect Minami as well.
Kanae connection
Knows about Minami
Claims to be a "liar"
Puts on the same mask as I do
...
Has knowledge about the idol suicide
I encircled that last fact.
The body tells a different story? If so, it could mean that something must've happened before Miyu Tachibana committed suicide.
Something that involved her body.
That was when it hit me.
I picked my phone up. "Why me, exactly?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Another blunt comment.
"Oh?" I grinned. "Tell me, why are you asking for my help?"
I continued. "Yes, this could affect Minami, but there's also a possibility that it can't."
"What if I tell you that it will?"
My grin faded as I leaned into my phone. "How?"
"Minami Shizuka was scouted by Starveil Productions eight months ago. Do you know what this means, Miyato?"
"That agency that got taken down after getting exposed?"
Suzune sighed.
"Do you know what happened after that?"
"No?"
"Starveil's fall wasn't the end. Its vultures scattered, selling scraps to anyone willing to pay. Your sister's name was among them."
My blood ran cold.
"What it means is that your sister is now known within the entertainment industry.