Chapter One | Fake Couple Date

♡♡♡

Why did this have to happen to me…?

I, Yutarou Makijima, a member of Koutou University’s soccer club, found myself at my second-ever group date.

But there, by pure chance, I ran into MIZUKI—aka Tsukino Mizuki, a former super-popular idol now working as a singer-songwriter.

Bumping into a celebrity at a group date? That’s gotta be rare, right? Except, for me, this wasn’t even my first time.

I’m already acquainted with Ayane Kiraboshi, a former top idol and national-treasure-level beauty, and guess what? I met her at a group date too.

It’s like I was born under some cursed star that makes me run into idols whenever I go to a group date… No, scratch that, I definitely wasn’t born under any such star!

Until just recently, I was just a soccer-obsessed nobody. Yet, in the span of a single month, I’ve ended up meeting two former top idols that everyone knows. Is this a coincidence? Inevitability? Or maybe… fate?

Whatever it is, I need to sort out the situation in front of me.

she wasn’t recognized, when she suddenly Once it became clear that Mizuki-san was MIZUKI, we slipped out of the group date together. I was walking her through the night streets, taking every precaution to make sure hit me with a totally baffling request.

That request? She wanted me to let her observe me on a date with my supposed girlfriend—for the sake of her songwriting. Since Mizuki-san had saved me from a creepy girl at the group date, I had no choice but to agree to her absurd promise.

“Makijima-kun, when you plan your next date, call this number. Ideally within this week, please. If I don’t pick up, just leave a voicemail with the date and location—that’d be a big help.”

“Uh… sure…”

“Well then, Makijima-kun, I’ll be waiting for your call.”

I parted ways with Mizuki-san in front of a nearby subway station.

A date with my girlfriend…? Except, here’s the thing—I don’t even have a girlfriend!

“Sigh… Seriously, what am I even doing?”

I let out a heavy sigh, my shoulders slumping.

Yeah, that’s right—I don’t have a girlfriend.

This is probably my punishment for telling that lie.

See, at the group date, I got cornered in the restaurant’s bathroom by some creepy girl, and Mizuki-san bailed me out. But as a thank-you, she asked me to go on a date with her.

She’s a stunning black-haired beauty. Normally, I’d agree in a heartbeat.

But she’s a full-fledged celebrity. If some gossip rag got wind of this and plastered my name all over the tabloids with half-truths, my life would be over.

If some gossip rag wrote all sorts of nonsense about me, my life would be over.

Fearing that, I blurted out that I already had a girlfriend as an excuse to turn down her request.

And because of that, Mizuki-san ended up saying she wanted to observe me on a date with my so-called girlfriend, turning it into my way of thanking her for saving me.

A date with a girlfriend who doesn’t even exist? This is beyond messed up.

Seriously, what am I supposed to do?

As I walked home from the station to my apartment, the night breeze did little to ease my troubled mind.

At this point, should I just ask Azaki for help and find someone—anyone—to play my girlfriend?

No… if I did that, I’d be no better than Azaki, who hooks up with girls he doesn’t even like—a total sleaze.

I absolutely refuse to become like Azaki.

Then, should I just come clean and apologize to Mizuki-san?

But if I apologize, I’ll definitely end up having to go on a date with her…

“At this point… do I just have to bite the bullet and go for it?”

I really didn’t want it to come to this, but it looks like I have no choice but to pull out my last resort.

I took out my smartphone and opened Lime.

If it’s come to this, I’ll have to ask someone to play the role of my girlfriend.

The one person I trust most right now.

There’s only one person who fits that bill.

“Please… help me out, Sasaki.”

                       ♣♣♣

After getting out of the bath, I slipped into light pink pajamas and headed to the living room. To cool off my warm body, I opened the window.

A cool breeze flowed in, and riding that breeze, a single butterfly that had been in the room fluttered gently around.

“Hey, little butterfly, you’re not leaving anytime soon, huh?”

It was a relatively small swallowtail butterfly.

Petite and adorable, but with wings so splendidly patterned that I couldn’t help but stare in awe.

That Makijima guy—I sent him a photo of this beautiful butterfly as a little slice of my daily life, and he totally ignored it after reading it.

Next time we meet, I’ll have to give him a proper scolding as his big sister.

“Come on, little butterfly, time to fly out.”

The butterfly clung to the window’s crescent lock, its wings swaying in the breeze.

The sight was so poetic, I could’ve watched it forever.

This little one… kinda reminds me of the old me.

Stepping into an unfamiliar world, dancing recklessly with abandon…

This butterfly’s dancing so beautifully… but me…

A strong night breeze blew through the open window, carrying the butterfly out into the night.

“…Little butterfly, don’t ever come back to such a cramped world like this.”

You shouldn’t end up like me…

As I watched the butterfly go, my phone’s ringtone chimed from the pocket of my pajamas.

Wait, this ringtone… Makijima⁉

Startled by the sudden call, I gave a quick cough to clear my throat, did a little vocal warm-up, and answered.

“M-Makijima?”

“Sasaki… you got a minute right now?”

Maybe because it was nighttime, Makijima’s voice sounded unusually calm.

“W-What’s up? You calling me out of the blue? That’s rare! Did you miss talking to me or something~?”

“…”

I meant it as a playful tease, but Makijima went completely silent.

Oh no, was that the wrong thing to tease him about…?

“Makijima?”

When I called out, a bit worried, he started talking after a brief pause.

“So… you free this weekend?”

“This weekend? Yeah, I don’t have any plans… Wait, are you asking me out on a date or something~?”

“…Yeah, wanna go out together?”

“Huh…?”

I’d said it as a joke, but his reply was dead serious.

“You’re actually asking me out on a date?”

“Is that a problem?”

Makijima’s asking me out on a date⁉

Has he finally… gone full dare⁉

Heh, all that talk, and deep down, Makijima’s dying to hang out with me, isn’t he?

“Of course it’s fine! Let’s go out together!”

“Really⁉ T-Then! How about this Saturday⁉”

He’s getting this excited? Does he really want to hang out with me that badly?

“Got it. Saturday it is, then?”

“Y-Yeah! Alright…!”

Getting so hyped just because we made plans to go out together.

This is so unlike the usual Makijima… Is this what they call tsundere?

He’s always treating me like a kid, but now he’s the one getting all excited… Honestly, what a child.

After that, I kept talking on the phone, grinning ear to ear the whole time.

♡♡♡

The Date Day

I slip on the jacket I “borrowed” from Azaki (and never returned) and head out of my apartment toward the meeting spot at the station. A date with Sasaki… huh. It’s been a while since we went to watch a soccer match at the stadium together. But today’s different. For one, I have to make sure MIZUKI doesn’t figure out that we’re not actually dating. And I can’t let Sasaki know about MIZUKI either. Today, I’ve got to keep both of those things in mind while pulling off this date.

Thinking about all this makes me more nervous than a soccer match. Calm down, Yusaku. Just act normal, and it’ll be fine. Overthinking it will only dig my own grave.

“Come on, Yusaku, you got this!” I mutter, psyching myself up as I arrive at the station.

MIZUKI said she’d observe from a distance, didn’t she? Is she already here? The day after we set the date, I told her the plan and schedule, and she said she’d stay far enough not to interfere. Good thing, too—Sasaki and MIZUKI probably have some bad blood, so keeping them apart is for the best. Plus, they’re both disguised, so even if they cross paths, they probably won’t recognize each other… hopefully. All I need to do is relax and act natural with Sasaki.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” A familiar voice calls from behind, and a delicate hand tugs at my sleeve.

It’s Sasaki, wearing her usual black mask to avoid being recognized. She’s dressed in a gray off-shoulder sweatshirt and a black denim skirt, her bare shoulders catching the morning light. She’s in an unusually chipper mood, teasing me right off the bat. “Morning, Makijima-kun! So excited for our date you called me in the middle of the night, huh?”

“S-Sasaki…” I stammer. Her playful jab feels so familiar it’s almost comforting.

“What’s up? Staring at me like that,” she says, tilting her head.

“N-Nothing!” No, no, no. Focus, Yusaku. Today, Sasaki’s my “girlfriend.” If I get too comfortable with our usual banter, MIZUKI will see right through us. She’s watching somewhere. I need to act like a couple.

“Um, Sasaki,” I start, avoiding her eyes, and hold out my right hand. “How about… we hold hands today?”

“Huh?” She blinks. “What did you just say?”

“I-I mean, like, holding hands… or something,” I mumble, my face burning.

Sasaki lets out a dumbfounded “Haa?” her eyes wide. “So… you wanna hold hands with me?” She glances at my hand, then back at me.

Yeah, okay, I get it. Suggesting this out of nowhere is weird. I only said it to sell the couple act, but maybe it’s too much.

“F-Forget it! Just a joke! You’re always teasing me, so I thought I’d tease you back!” I start to pull my hand away, but Sasaki grabs it.

“M-Makijima,” she says softly.

“W-What?”

“Holding hands… might be a bit embarrassing,” she admits, her voice quieter than usual.

“No, I said it was a joke!”

“But… maybe just pinkies is okay,” she says, gently wrapping her left hand around my right pinky.

The warmth of her palm against my pinky… wait, what?! “H-Hey, what are you doing?!”

Sasaki grins, holding my pinky tightly with a mischievous look. “Hehe.”

“Why are you smirking like that?!”

“No reason! Just making sure you don’t wander off today. I’m keeping this pinky locked down,” she says smugly, pulling me along. “Come on, let’s go!”

Sasaki’s always so carefree, her emotions as clear as a kid’s. Seeing her laugh so innocently, I realize how stupid I’ve been, worrying about acting like a couple or watching MIZUKI’s reaction. Overthinking this will only stress Sasaki out. Alright, I’ll just be myself.

☆☆

Saturday morning, 10 a.m., in front of Koto University Station.

I’m perched on the saddle of a bike at the station’s bike rack, squinting. “There’s Makijima-kun,” I mutter to myself. His vague claim about having a girlfriend sounded fishy, and I half-expected him to ghost me after that mixer. But he actually showed up with a girl. I wasn’t sure whether to believe him, but taking the day off to come here was worth it.

As the masked girl approaches Makijima-kun and they start walking, hand in hand, I pull out my notebook and pencil, keeping my distance while tailing them. Observing a couple’s date up close isn’t something I get to do often. I don’t have friends with juicy love stories, and my women’s university doesn’t exactly make it easy to find a boyfriend. That’s why I crashed that mixer to find a guy to “date” for inspiration. Well, watching a taken guy’s date is close enough—result’s the same. Better than stalking without permission and looking like a creep.

They hop between cafés, browse a trinket shop for accessories, and pick out headbands. Their conversation never stops, even on the street, and they walk so close together. What’s with the pinky-holding? Some kind of couple ritual? There’s this vibe between them that keeps everyone else at a distance. Are they long-time lovers?

The girl’s super clingy—sneaky about closing the gap—and Makijima-kun handles it like he’s used to her. Probably high school sweethearts. They seem perfect together, but something bugs me. The more I watch them flirt, the less it adds up. If Makijima-kun has a girlfriend this close, why was he at that mixer? If she found out, she’d be heartbroken. And he doesn’t seem like the type to do that casually—he turned down my date offer because of her, after all. There’s too many contradictions. I’ll have to ask him later.

From a café across from the trinket shop, I sip my coffee and watch them. They’ve picked a headband, and Makijima-kun puts it on her as they leave. She’s adorable, even with that mask—probably for bad allergies, like he said. But I bet she’s stunning without it. As an entertainer, I wear masks to avoid recognition, but a regular girl would want her boyfriend to see her face on a date. It must be tough, hiding like that. I feel for her.

I jot down my thoughts in my notebook: “Wanting to show yourself but hiding instead. All to protect…” Heh, that could be a song lyric.

As they leave the shop, I finish my coffee, pay, and follow, keeping my distance and my disguise intact. Watching them, I notice something about the girl. Her posture—back straight, always fixing her bangs, checking her reflection in every mirror she passes. Most girls would relax when their boyfriend’s not looking, but she’s always on, like an idol hyper-aware of cameras. Her medium-short hair, her height (boosted by platform shoes)… she’s about the same as that girl.

“No way…” I mutter. Rumor had it she left for overseas, chasing some guy. Going abroad for a man? I couldn’t imagine it. If that’s true, she wouldn’t be here, let alone return to Japan where her fans are. She wouldn’t… come back.

But then, a memory flashes—the dazzling smile of that girl, bright as the sun. She made Genesistars shine. Her radiance gave each member a “shadow,” a presence. Because of the Sun, the Moon could exist… and yet.

“I don’t want to be a traitor like you, Mizuki-san.” Her voice echoes in my mind. All I did was offer her a path to survive together, but she refused. And so—she died. She had everything—status, popularity—but threw it away for a guy. I survived; she didn’t. Who made the right choice?

☆☆

Sasaki and I stop by a new trinket shop near the university. She picks out a headband, and I cover the cost. She’s been without one since giving hers to a fan at the stadium. “Thanks for buying it!” she chirps, slipping on the sky-blue headband—a calm contrast to her usual loud (annoying) vibe.

“Just don’t give this one away,” I tease.

“Of course! I’ll treasure it forever!” she says, touching it happily. Forever, huh? Well, it wasn’t cheap.

“Write your name on it, just in case you lose it,” I add.

“What? Don’t treat me like a kid! I’m old enough not to lose stuff!” she huffs.

“…That’s a jinx if I ever heard one.”

“I won’t lose it!” she snaps, squeezing my pinky with her infamous grip strength.

“Ow, ow, ow! Okay, my bad! Spare my pinky!” I beg, and she finally eases up, reverting to her gentle hold.

“Next time you treat me like a kid, I’m showing Aihara-san that sneaky photo of you sleeping,” she says, flashing her phone with my embarrassing sleep face.

“Why’d you even take that?!” I yell.

“To have leverage over you,” she grins.

“Delete it!”

“Nope!”

Ugh, cute face, but she’s practically a blackmailer. Two can play that game. “Fine, don’t delete it, and I’ll spread your sleeping photos around.”

I’m bluffing, but she freezes, then looks away. “Lying’s bad, Makijima. You don’t have any.”

“How do you know that?” I press.

“When you were sleeping, I checked your phone…” She trails off, clamming up.

“What? You were saying something.”

“Nothing! Anyway, where to next? I want more pancakes!” she says, dodging.

“You’ve hit five cafés already, and you want more?”

“I want matcha brûlée pancakes at that Japanese-style café!”

Matcha now? I’m getting whipped cream overload, but Sasaki’s unfazed. Girls’ stomachs are unreal.

☆☆

It’s been hours since the date started, and now they’re heading to a Japanese-style café? Another café?! They’ve already hit five, and they’re still going? Even I, clueless about normal dates, know that’s excessive. Makijima-kun’s an athlete, so maybe he can handle it, but that girl’s stomach is a mystery.

No choice—I follow to the sixth café of the day. I want to see them eat for song inspiration, but every place so far has been private rooms, so I haven’t caught a glimpse. I confirm they’re seated, then enter. “Welcome! Table for one?” the staff asks.

“Yes,” I reply, and they lead me to a room diagonally behind theirs—perfect.

“Here’s the menu,” the staff says, dressed in traditional attire.

These two are so lovey-dovey, always picking private rooms. Are they… doing something scandalous in there? Was Makijima-kun pretending to be innocent when he’s really a player?

“Ma’am, your order?” the staff interrupts.

“Milkshake,” I say, glancing at the menu.

As the staff leaves, I’m alone in the room. I’ve never café-hopped this much, but for research, I’ll stick with their date. Soon, the staff wheels a cart with pancakes to their room. Pancakes… they remind me of her. Back in Genesistars, before our first dome concert, I met with each member as the leader. She dragged me to a small café in a Tokyo suburb, her eyes sparkling at their soufflé pancakes. In her childish, excited voice—

“Yay, brûlée pancakes!” a voice squeals from their room.

That voice. My memory? A hallucination? Cold sweat trickles down my cheek.

“Ma’am, your milkshake! Are you okay?” the staff asks, concerned.

“Show me the menu,” I say, ignoring her worry. My eyes land on “Matcha Brûlée Pancakes.” That voice… was it really Kiraboshi Ayane?

“Did the guests in the room across order brûlée pancakes?” I ask.

“That’s private information, ma’am.”

“Then bring another plate of brûlée pancakes to their room. Bill it to me.”

The staff looks baffled but complies. “No way…” I whisper. I thought I’d never see her again. If she’s here, and they’re choosing private rooms for that reason, it’s too much of a coincidence.

The cart stops at their room. Pretending to head to the restroom, I eavesdrop. “We didn’t order two,” Makijima-kun says.

“Huh? You said you didn’t want sweets, but now you’re eating?” she teases.

“I didn’t order it!” he protests.

That voice. I suspected it, but now I’m sure. I return to my room as the staff brings a new receipt. “If you know them, would you like to join—”

“No need,” I cut her off. “Just… an old friend.”

☆☆

Exhausted from pancakes and stress, I walk Sasaki to the station. “Thanks for today, Makijima! It was super fun, and the pancakes were delicious!”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” I say. Honestly, all I remember is pancakes.

“See ya!” she waves, heading off.

I’m about to head home when my phone rings—MIZUKI. “Hello, Makijima speaking.”

“Meet me at the plaza by the clock tower,” she says curtly. “I’m on the bench.”

“What about the song? Was it helpful?”

“Forget that. I need to talk.”

She hangs up. Her tone sounded angry. Did she figure out Sasaki and I aren’t dating? With her sharp eyes, she probably did. Bracing for a lecture, I head to the plaza and sit on the bench. Moments later, someone sits one space away, the scent of her perfume unmistakable—MIZUKI.

“Hey, MIZUKI-san,” I say, avoiding her gaze.

“Did you lie to me?” she asks, her voice icy.

I knew it. She saw through us. We didn’t act couple-y enough. “I’m sorry,” I say, bowing deeply under the sunset sky. “I lied.”

“You did… but it’s more like you were hiding something,” she says.

“Hiding something?”

“Why’d you do it?”

Taking a deep breath, I spill the truth. “I was… scared. If I dated you and the tabloids caught us, I’d lose everything—soccer. That’s what terrified me.”

She trembles, but is it anger? “You’re serious?”

“I’m sorry!”

“No need to apologize. But if you’re that scared of tabloids, you should break up with her. Why haven’t you?”

“Break up?” I blink. She knows we’re not dating, so why say that?

“You’re cautious about me, but you’re fine dating her? Your actions don’t match your words.”

“What are you talking about? I told you, we’re not dating. It was all a lie.”

“A lie? Not dating? What do you mean?”

“Huh?”

We stare, confused. Didn’t she see through the act? “What’s this about a lie?” she demands.

“I’m saying we’re not a couple. We met a few weeks ago—”

“What?!” Her cool facade cracks, eyes wide with shock. “You’re not dating? And you only met weeks ago?!”

 

♣♣♣

“Holding hands?” MIZUKI asks, her voice sharp.

“Technically, just pinkies,” I reply.

“Talking nonstop?”

“That’s just her being chatty.”

“And you’re not dating?”

“Nope.”

MIZUKI rubs her temples, frowning. “Am I the one who’s crazy here?”

“Uh, isn’t the issue that I lied about having a girlfriend?”

“No…” She turns, eyes narrowing. “It’s about her.”

Her? Sasaki?

“She’s Kiraboshi Ayane, isn’t she?”

The air freezes. The worst-case scenario—MIZUKI figuring out Sasaki’s identity—was exactly what I wanted to avoid.

“You knew?!” I blurt.

“At first, I thought she just seemed familiar. But after two years of sharing highs and lows… how could I not know?” MIZUKI gazes into the distance, as if recalling their glory days.

Makes sense. She was the leader, Sasaki the center. The two who defined an era—they’d know each other anywhere.

“If you want to keep playing soccer… living a normal life, let me warn you,” she says.

“Warn me?”

“Kiraboshi Ayane is dead. But people always glorify the dead, and her legend lives on. That means the paparazzi will never stop chasing her scandals. It’s endless.”

“You’re saying Sasaki will be hunted forever?”

“Of course. If a scoop about Kiraboshi Ayane, who vanished after graduation, surfaces, it’ll be top news. Fans still want her to return as an actress or celebrity.”

“That’s not fair! She’s finally free—”

“It’s not about fair. Her fame cost her privacy. Thinking she can just live normally now? Impossible.” MIZUKI’s words hit hard. Sasaki always hides behind a mask and glasses, silencing her talkative nature in crowds. She might not even have the right to live freely anymore.

“Were you a Kiraboshi Ayane fan? Lucky you, meeting your idol,” MIZUKI says, almost mocking.

“No.”

“Then why cling to her? Getting involved with her is dangerous.”

“Dangerous? You’re telling me to cut her off?”

“Exactly. She chose to leave showbiz—she has to fight loneliness alone. She knew that and accepted it. But she’s leaning on your kindness, your goodwill.”

“That’s not true! Sasaki—”

“If a regular guy like you stays close to her, you’ll share her fate. Do you understand the weight of that?”

“The weight?”

“If your relationship or personal info leaks, you’ll get dragged through the mud. This isn’t me being cruel—it’s a genuine warning.”

She’s right. If this gets out, my info will spread, and Kiraboshi’s fans will tear me apart. But cutting ties with Sasaki over that? “Sasaki wouldn’t be in this mess if she hadn’t fought with you! Don’t you feel any responsibility?!”

“None,” MIZUKI says coldly.

I flinch. “I thought you cared about her. You gave her a way to survive, but she chose a guy over her career. That’s it, right?”

“A guy? Who?”

“No idea. But she said she’d quit showbiz to ‘support’ someone instead of being the one supported.”

“Support someone…” I recall Sasaki’s late-night confession at my place—her first love. Was that who she meant?

“You know something, don’t you?” MIZUKI presses.

“Yeah, but it’s private—something she told me alone.”

“Fine. We’re done anyway. I don’t care.” She shrugs, but her eyes linger.

“That photo you mentioned—when was that rumor going around?”

“About three years ago, I think.”

Three years… Sasaki would’ve been in her second year of high school.

“Why ask? I warned you to stay away—”

“She’s looking for that guy,” I interrupt.

“What?”

“You’re right—she’s living a tough life, even after quitting. But that’s unfair. She became an idol to inspire people, yet she can’t be happy? That’s wrong. I want to find that guy so she can be happy.”

MIZUKI adjusts her sunglasses, softening. “You’re really kind. If I’d had your kindness back then, maybe things would’ve been different.”

“But you still think I tricked you, right?”

She smirks, standing from the bench. “Yeah, you did.”

I wince. “I… yeah.”

“Liars struggle in life. We’re taught as kids that ‘lying is bad,’ but in the real world, the best liars win.” Her gaze pierces me. “Look at Japan—politicians preaching honesty get roasted, companies hide scandals. Success belongs to liars.”

She’s not wrong, but…

“It’s the same for idols,” she continues. “We sell purity but get caught in dating scandals. We deceive fans expertly.”

“Deceive?”

“You heard Ayane’s first love story, right? Even idols, forbidden from love, fall for someone in secret. They’re just human—liars, like you.”

I don’t know how to respond. “I think… not lying at all is best.”

MIZUKI raises an eyebrow. “You said you’ve never been in love, right? As an idol, you stayed true to your fans. That’s not lying.”

“That’s… true, but we’re talking about idols, not me.”

“You were an idol! I don’t get why you’d mock them. Didn’t you do your job without lying?”

She falls silent.

“I don’t know much about idols, but Sasaki, even if she was in love, hid it to do her job, right? She wanted to meet her first love but kept it secret. That’s not lying—it’s professionalism. Comparing that to shady politicians or companies is unfair!” I’m getting heated, probably contradicting myself, but I can’t stand her dismissing Sasaki.

MIZUKI chuckles. “What’s so funny?!”

“You’re… interesting.” She tilts my chin up, like that time in the restroom, her sharp eyes locking onto mine. “Sorry for upsetting you about Ayane. I got carried away.”

“N-No, I got carried away too,” I mumble, freed from her grip.

“You free after this?”

“Uh, yeah, no plans…”

She grabs my hand, pulling gently. “MIZUKI-san?!”

“You showed me something good today. Let me treat you to a drink as thanks for the thanks.”

“A drink? I’m only 18—”

“Something non-alcoholic, like cider. Just humor me.”

Her “treat” sounds more like a demand.

☆☆

MIZUKI drags me to a moody underground bar in the entertainment district. Jazz flows through the air, and the dim lighting creates a sophisticated vibe. We walk past rows of liquor bottles to the counter. “Been a while, Master. No other customers today?” MIZUKI says.

“Plenty of room to drink,” the white-bearded bartender replies.

“I’m counting on it. I’ll have my usual. He can’t drink, so… a Summer Delight mocktail.”

The bartender nods silently. I sit on a black leather stool, fidgeting in the bar’s atmosphere. MIZUKI seems chummy with the bartender—does she come here often?

“Makijima-kun,” she calls.

“Y-Yes!” I yelp.

“First time in a bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Really? I figured you’d be used to places like this, with how comfortable you seemed at the mixer.”

“Comfortable? I’ve only been to two mixers!”

“Hmm, so you met Ayane at your first one?” she teases.

I freeze. She’s half-joking, but it’s true.

“What’s with that reaction?”

“It’s… true.”

“What?! Ayane at a mixer? Stop lying.”

“I’m not! I met Sasaki at my first mixer.”

“So every mixer you go to, you meet a former idol? Including me?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Like a novel… no, truth is stranger than fiction. That’s unreal.”

A blue cocktail is set before MIZUKI. She holds it up. “Grab your glass.”

I pick up my red mocktail. “Cheers,” she says.

“What’s that?”

“It means ‘cheers’—a toast.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Cool? Are you really a Koto University student?”

“Sorry, I’m a sports scholarship kid. Studying’s not my thing.”

“I see. You’re clever enough to trick me, but not for school?”

“Trick’s an overstatement! English tests destroy me, and my best subject’s Japan History—75 deviation score.”

“Insanely high for one subject… but Koto University? Doubtful.”

This feels like a convo I had with Sasaki. “Anyway, cheers? To a long day, liar Makijima-kun?”

“S-Sorry for everything…” Our glasses clink.

“You’re at Koto on a sports scholarship, so you’re confident in soccer, right?”

“Eh, average? I was a nobody in high school, never called to the youth national team.”

“You’re confident in nothing, huh?” Her words sting.

“I know it’s a bad habit!”

“You’re blunt, good or bad,” I retort.

“Compliment?”

“Maybe that’s what caused your fight with Sasaki?”

She winces, sipping her cocktail. “That hits a nerve.”

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“It’s fine. It’s true.” She downs her drink and signals for another. “You said I didn’t lie as an idol, but that’s wrong. I’ve never been in love, but I lied plenty.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Ayane and I both did. Some people can’t survive without lying.”

“Like who?”

“Idols. The smiles we flash, the flattery for fans—it’s all fake for popularity. Idols are ‘idols’—a pile of lies. Offstage, our faces darken, eyes sharpen.”

“You too?”

She strokes her glass, murmuring, “Yes. I was bad at showing emotions. I came to Tokyo to sing, failed auditions, but got into Genesistars. Early on, I was bashed for being cold, ranked dead last in popularity.”

“Last? You, who rivaled Sasaki?”

“Yep. I decided to play a role for popularity—fake it ‘til you make it. I forced smiles, and fans ate up the ‘gap’ between my cold side and warmth. So easy.”

She snorts, but her words would crush her fans. Was Sasaki like this too? I don’t want to believe it, but maybe that’s the idol reality.

“Even after hearing this, you still dream about idol Sasaki?” she asks.

“Dream? We’re not like that.”

“Are you sure?”

She’s still suspicious. “Are you worried about me? All this idol-bashing to keep me away from her?”

“No. I’m just… annoyed she seems so happy.”

MIZUKI downs another cocktail, signaling for a refill. Jealousy, huh?

“What happened between you and Sasaki?”

“Want to know?”

“Is this a bad place to talk?”

“It’s fine. The Master knows everything—including about me.” She gestures to the bartender, who bows slightly.

“Since you know Ayane, I’ll tell you. But you’re on her side, so you’ll probably hate me.”

“Her side? Was it that bad?”

“If you’re ready to hate me, I’ll talk. Do you want to?”

“That’s a mean question. Nobody wants to hate someone.”

“Nobody wants to hate…” She pauses, then smiles. “You’re interesting. Fine, I’ll tell you.”

She downs another cocktail and starts. “When Genesistars was at its peak, I made Ayane an offer.”

“An offer?”

“To go solo.”

“What?!” Like MIZUKI now—leaving the group to go independent.

“Why offer that? At your peak, staying together makes more sense.”

“Maybe for us. But what about the group’s future?”

The future… If stars like Sasaki and MIZUKI dominated, the group would be seen as just them, stifling others.

“That could hurt the group,” I admit.

“Exactly. When top members hog the spotlight, new or lower members can’t rise. The group stagnates and fades.”

“Genesistars needed someone bigger than Kiraboshi Ayane.”

“So you offered her a solo deal? Why not wait until your popularity cooled?”

“Would an agency back a has-been for a solo debut? You have to strike while you’re hot, or no one wins.”

“That’s harsh.”

“It’s reality. The agency pushed me to convince Ayane, but she refused.”

“She did?”

“She wanted to keep shining to lift the group. We argued, and we haven’t spoken since.”

If MIZUKI left alone, that’d make sense, but Sasaki quit too. “If she refused, why did she retire? Even without you, she could’ve stayed.”

MIZUKI grimaces. “That’s a sore spot.”

She chugs another cocktail. “Somehow, our argument leaked to the group.”

“Someone overheard?!”

“Probably by accident. I pitched it in the lesson studio’s changing room—careless. We were both so busy, it was the only time.”

“Then what?”

“The agency president found out. He thought both of us were talking to other agencies. He was a hothead—said it’d ruin the group’s vibe and forced us both to graduate.”

I’m stunned, my mocktail untouched. Sasaki’s vague “I fought with a member” hid this mess. MIZUKI chose the group’s future, passing the torch. Sasaki wanted to stay and shine. Both loved Genesistars, but their paths clashed.

“So, Makijima-kun, hate me yet?”

“I… can’t.” I’m not involved enough to judge, and Sasaki probably feels the same. MIZUKI’s offer caused the fallout, but her intent wasn’t malicious.

“It’s in the past. No point regretting it,” MIZUKI says. “No interest in making up with her?”

“You’re not just leader and center. There’s more to it than that!”

She downs another drink. “I’m getting tipsy.”

Tipsy? She’s had, like, six cocktails while I’ve barely sipped mine.

“I’m sleepy…” She slumps face-down.

Is she drunk?! “Master, she’s out!”

“Yep,” he says calmly.

“That’s it?! She’s not even strong with alcohol?!”

“She never is. Drinks six cocktails in a row, though.”

“Why not stop her?!”

“She threatens to post online that we’re a ‘bar that won’t let you drink.’ It’s a hassle.”

He chuckles, stroking his beard. Some regular she is—a total nuisance.

“Why let her in?”

“She’s been venting here since becoming a singer-songwriter. She’s a VIP, but I don’t spill her secrets. Forty years in this business, you know.”

“Wow…”

“She’s tough but fragile. Bold women like her hurt the most.”

His words carry weight, his experience shining through.

“Usually, I let her sleep it off, but since you’re here, can you take her home?”

“Me?! We’re not like that!”

“No charge for the drinks.”

“That’s not the issue! She drank pricey cocktails!”

“This bar’s owned by her agency’s president. I’m just a hired bartender.”

So her “treat” was on her boss’s dime. This isn’t her hangout—it’s her agency’s bar.

“A taxi’s coming. Take her home or to a hotel.”

“I’m not doing anything weird, okay?”

He smirks. Annoying old man…

“Tell the driver her address!”

“That’s private.”

“Fine, I’ll ask her!” I sling MIZUKI’s arm over my shoulder and head to the taxi outside. “MIZUKI-san, what’s your address?”

“My address? Dunno…” she slurs.

“Dunno?!”

“Dunno… hic.”

She’s wasted. So much for her cool image.

“MIZUKI-san, address, please?”

“Okay~”

I grab water from a nearby vending machine, return, and make her drink. She chokes but blinks awake. “Makijima… kun?”

“Your address.”

“Address…” She sobers slightly, telling the driver herself.

Finally. Why didn’t the Master just give her water? Unless he wanted her drunk. Shady old man.

“Makijima-kun, let’s go,” she says, clearer now.

“Huh?”

“I’ll have the driver drop you off after me. I’ll pay.”

“My place is close—I don’t need a taxi.”

“Just get in!”

“Fine…”

She’s acting all mature again, but I was carrying her a minute ago. She’s got that same try-hard vibe as Sasaki—mature but clumsy.

“Thanks for today,” she says.

“No, thank you for the mocktail… and your boss, I guess.”

“It’s nothing. But…” She blushes. “Promise you won’t tell Ayane you met me.”

“I wasn’t gonna, but why ask?”

“Just making sure.”

“Do I seem that loose-lipped?”

“And one more thing—I want to know how you feel.”

“My feelings?”

“I told you the truth about her. As the one who spilled it, I need to know what you’ll do. Will you stay away? Or…”

I hadn’t thought deeply about it, but her question forces me to. Knowing why Sasaki quit doesn’t change how I see her—it’s so her. “I want to keep things as they are with Sasaki,” I say.

“As they are?”

“Watching soccer together, going to cafés, attending lectures. As her only friend who knows her past, I want to help her live normally. If she’s searching for her first love, I’ll help.”

“You’re too kind,” she says, finishing the water I gave her. “Thanks to you, I know she’s back in Japan. Now that I know, I’ll probably have to talk to her soon.”

“To pull her back into showbiz?”

“Maybe. Or maybe just to apologize.”

I think she wants to drag Sasaki back. Her feelings aren’t hatred—there’s something deeper.

“Stop here,” MIZUKI tells the driver, stepping out gracefully.

“Wait, this isn’t your place!”

“It’s a short walk. I’m fine.”

She shoves a 10,000-yen bill at me and starts walking. “Goodbye, Makijima-kun. If we meet again… you owe me a drink.”

“No thanks.”

She glares.

“I-I mean, I’d love to!”

Her stare wins, and I bow repeatedly. Scary.

“And one more thing,” she says.

“Another drink?”

“No!” She pauses. “Make Ayane… happy.”

Sasaki…

“That’s all.” She walks away.

She really cares about Sasaki.

“Hey, man, can’t stay parked forever. Where to?” the driver calls.

“Oh, sorry!” I give him my address, and the taxi heads to my apartment.