The announcement came quietly this time.
"Introducing our newest girl group — debuting soon."
When the news broke, OG didn't react the way they once might have. There was no panic, no fear of replacement—just a brief pause, a shared look between the five of them.
"So it's happening again," Yuki said lightly.
Hana shrugged. "Every company does this."
But the change was noticeable.
OG's promotions slowly thinned. Fewer interviews. Shorter schedules. Their comeback stages were reduced, their content uploaded less frequently. Stylists and managers who once hovered constantly were suddenly busy elsewhere.
"They're shifting focus," Kairi said one evening, stating the obvious.
Still, OG remained on top.
Their fashion campaigns continued. Their photoshoots sold out magazines. Their performances—though fewer—pulled strong numbers. Even without heavy promotion, their name stayed relevant, their presence steady.
The newly debuted group, on the other hand, struggled from the start.
The debut song failed to chart. Views stagnated. Fan reactions were lukewarm at best.
"They're not bad," Aiko said gently after watching a stage. "But… they don't feel ready."
Online, comparisons were inevitable—and cruel.
"Why push them when OG exists?"
"OG carries the company anyway."
"This debut feels rushed."
The company tried harder—more promotions, louder marketing—but nothing stuck. The public didn't connect. The momentum never came.
Meanwhile, OG thrived quietly.
They walked fashion weeks while others fought for attention. They were invited, not pushed. Wanted, not forced. Their success felt natural now—untouched by desperation.
At a small event, a reporter asked Sakura, "Does it bother you that the company is focusing on a new group?"
Sakura smiled calmly. "Not really. Everyone deserves a chance. We're just grateful to still be here."
What she didn't say was this:
They had already survived being forgotten.
Nothing scared them anymore.
Back at the dorm, the girls ate together, laughing over takeout.
"Funny," Yuki said between bites. "They tried to replace us once."
"And failed," Kairi added.
Hana smiled softly. "Because OG isn't just a group."
"It's history," Aiko finished.
Sakura looked around at them—stronger, calmer, unshaken.
Outside, the industry moved as it always did—fast, ruthless, impatient.
But OG stood firm.
Promoted less. Expected less.
Yet still on top.
And somewhere behind the scenes, someone watched the company's mistake unfold with quiet satisfaction—because some stars, once proven unbreakable, could never be replaced.