1The morning came too soon.

  Yuzuki woke up stiff, her back aching from another night curled up under the same rusted awning of a closed ramen shop. The early morning sun peeked through the cracks of the city, casting a dull glow over the empty sidewalks. The streets were quiet, only a few exhausted sarymen trudging toward the station, their lives dictated by someone else’s schedule.

  Her stomach clenched. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

  But that wasn’t the most pressing thing on her mind.

  She had made a decision st night.

  Despite everything—despite Reina’s disappearance and return, despite Naseru’s detached cynicism, despite the growing weight of doubt pressing against her ribs—she was going to try again.

  She was going to go to an agency.

  2She hadn’t pnned which one.

  She just walked, moving through the city on muscle memory, heading toward the districts she knew were home to idol agencies, production companies, and talent scouts.

  The further she went, the more the scenery changed.

  Neon signs and corporate billboards repced the rundown vending machines and cracked pavement of Okubo Park. The people looked cleaner, sharper—businessmen in crisp suits, polished office workers, and bright-eyed girls heading to rehearsals or auditions.

  It was another world.

  A world she had once believed she belonged to.

  Now, standing on the edge of it, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

  She finally reached one of the buildings, a mid-tier idol agency she had seen online before. Nothing as massive as the ones producing top-tier idols, but still legitimate enough.

  Her pulse quickened.

  She hesitated only for a second before stepping inside.

  3The lobby was colder than she expected.

  Not temperature-wise, but in atmosphere.

  A rge gss desk sat in the center, a sleek, minimalist design that screamed corporate efficiency over warmth. A receptionist, a woman in her te twenties with sharp red lipstick and an expression that made it clear she had seen a thousand girls like Yuzuki before, barely gnced up.

  Yuzuki swallowed. "Excuse me, I wanted to ask about auditions."

  The receptionist finally looked up, giving her a quick once-over.

  Then, just as quickly, dismissed her.

  "How old are you?"

  "Fifteen."

  A pause. A short, unimpressed nod.

  "We’re not taking any open auditions right now."

  Yuzuki’s fingers curled at her sides. "But I saw on the website that—"

  "That information is outdated," the woman interrupted smoothly.

  Yuzuki didn’t believe her.

  She had seen the announcement. There was an open call happening soon.

  But before she could argue, the receptionist was already looking at something else, as if the conversation was over.

  "You should apply online first. If your profile is selected, we’ll contact you."

  Yuzuki clenched her jaw.

  She had heard this before.

  It was an easy way to brush off girls who didn’t have the right connections, the right agency backing, the right ‘look’.

  It wasn’t always about talent.

  It was about who could be marketed, who already had someone behind them, who could be molded into what they wanted.

  And right now?

  Yuzuki was just another nobody off the street.

  4She turned away, but as she did, she noticed something.

  Across the lobby, another girl was walking in.

  She was around Yuzuki’s age but looked different. Well-dressed, hair perfectly styled, wearing a designer bag that Yuzuki had only seen in magazine ads.

  The receptionist’s demeanor changed instantly.

  Her sharp, disinterested expression softened into something polite, almost accommodating.

  "Oh, you must be here for the audition."

  Yuzuki felt her stomach sink.

  So auditions were happening after all.

  She watched as the receptionist handed the girl a form, directing her toward the elevators. No hesitation. No ‘apply online’ dismissal.

  Yuzuki turned and walked out of the building, her fists tight at her sides.

  She wasn’t even given a chance.

  5She wandered the streets after that.

  She didn’t know where she was going—just moving, letting the city swallow her up.

  At some point, she ended up back near the courts.

  And as expected, Naseru was there.

  She spotted him just as his game ended. Another win. Another older man handing him money, a bag of food, another nod of approval.

  She felt something in her tighten.

  Even Naseru, who didn’t even seem to care, could walk into a space and prove himself.

  Meanwhile, she had just been turned away without even trying.

  She waited until he stepped off to the side before approaching.

  "You still haven’t eaten," she said.

  Nasru gnced at her but didn’t respond as Naseru threw the bag the person had given the boy into a nearby trash.

  She frowned. "What are you even doing with the money?"

  Still no answer.

  Finally, he exhaled through his nose. "What about you? You try an agency?"

  Yuzuki hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah."

  Nasru raised an eyebrow.

  "And?"

  "They turned me away."

  He didn’t look surprised. That somehow made it worse.

  "What now?" he asked.

  Yuzuki exhaled, running a hand through her hair.

  "I don’t know."

  Nasru hummed in response. "So you’re just running on hope."

  It was the same thing he had said before.

  But now, it stung more.

  6Yuzuki wasn’t sure why, but she followed Naseru again with nothing else to do the rest of the day.

  She didn’t ask where he was going—she just walked with him, the city moving around them like an unfeeling machine.

  Then she noticed him slipping a few bills out of his pocket.

  He wasn’t using the money for himself.

  He was giving it to Reina.

  Yuzuki’s chest tightened as she watched Reina take it, looking both grateful and guilty at the same time.

  Nasru muttered something under his breath, something Yuzuki couldn’t quite hear, but she saw the way Reina’s expression darkened slightly.

  Then another voice entered the conversation.

  A boy, older than Naseru but not by much, stepping forward.

  "You seen Kaito, right?"

  Naseru’s entire posture stiffened.

  Yuzuki felt her stomach drop again.

  She knew that name now.

  Kaito.

  The boy who had been selling himself.

  The boy who had been just like Reina.

  Just like all of them.

  The air felt heavy.

  "Too many broken things," Reina murmured again, her voice so quiet it almost disappeared. "Not enough people fixing them."

  Yuzuki clenched her fists.

  She was starting to hate those words.

  Because they were true.

  And she didn’t know what to do about it.

  To be continued...