CHAPTER 4
Kiyomi barely slept. His mind was a chaotic loop of the previous day—the heat of Miyu's room, the restrictive sting of the rubber band, and the way he had cried out Takumi's name while pinned beneath his own friend.
"How does it feel?"
"You kept saying Takkun even though I'm right here in front of you."
Miyu's voice haunted his ears.
(What if Takkun finds out?)
Ding.
The screen of his phone illuminated the dark room. It was a message from Mirai Talent. Kiyomi froze for a second.
[Inferno Talent]
Hello, Sakura!
Thank you for sending your audition videos! Your energy and charm really caught our attention.
We'd like to invite you to a face-to-face interview at our agency office. Please come on [date & time].
Address: [Inferno Talent Office Address]
Bring your audition outfit and be ready to show your stage presence!
— Inferno Talent
Kiyomi's hands trembled.Disbelief fought with a sudden, sharp jolt of adrenaline.
(I… I actually got in? What about Miyu?)
Ding.
His phone buzzed again. A new message from Miyu.
Miyu: Did you get accepted as well?
Kiyomi: Yes, I just read it a minute ago.
Miyu: Oh, you're awake… Morning, Kiyomi-chan.
Kiyomi: Morning.
Kiyomi: About the next interview on Sunday next week…
Miyu: Don't worry. Miyu's got you covered.
Miyu: I've memorized almost every idol dance imaginable.
Miyu: What about you, Kiyomi-chan?
Kiyomi: I only memorized Inori's dances.
Miyu: Got it. We'll practice her dances after class every day then.
Miyu: See you~
Kiyomi set the phone down, a small, dizzy smile creeping onto his face. Despite the shame of the night before, a flutter of genuine excitement filled his chest.
After lectures, Kiyomi went to the clubroom with Takumi. The room was quiet, just the two of them. He learned that Takumi was more of an idol anime fan, and his favorite series was Idolmistress. The anime was popular, with multiple gacha games tied to it.
Takumi proudly showed Kiyomi his waifu collections across all the gacha games. Hundreds of characters, every scene and outfit unlocked over the years.
Kiyomi giggled, watching Takumi's excitement.
The door slammed open.
"Good afternoon, my people!" Miyu barged in, radiating a chaotic energy.
(Miyu! Dammit!)
"Oho~ what are you two doing?" Miyu asked, his tone teasing.
"I just showed Kiki my waifu collection," Takumi answered.
"I see," Miyu said, taking a seat beside Takumi.
His expression turned smug as he draped an arm over Takumi's broad shoulders, his eyes locking onto Kiyomi with a smug glint.
(Grrrr… let go of Takumi…)
"Yo… Takkun," Miyu cooed.
"Miyu, why are you calling me that? That's weird, bro," Takumi grunted, though he didn't pull away.
(That's right, Takkun… it's weird when someone else calls you that!)
"We're literally cousins," Miyu continued.
"Whatever."
"Mhm… Say, Takkun… what if your friend is an idol?" Miyu asked, his gaze fixed on Kiyomi.
Takumi didn't answer immediately. He took a moment to think, then finally said:
"I would be her lucky friend, I guess."
Kiyomi felt a mix of relief and disappointment.
(He said "her." Maybe I don't stand a chance… But I would still be his idol.)
Miyu tapped Takumi lightly and released him, his own expression revealing a trace of disappointment.
"I see…"
The three of them spent the next while discussing their favorite idols, games, and anime. Eventually, Takumi left for training, leaving Kiyomi alone with Miyu.
"It's time for our own training," Miyu said, pulling a tracksuit from his bag.
They changed together in the same room, though Kiyomi felt a bit uneasy.
(Why hasn't Miyu done anything yet? Is this a trap?)
Despite his tension, they finished changing without any tricks or teasing from Miyu.
They headed to the rooftop where rarely any student ever visited. This afternoon there were only two of them.
"I want to do this song," Kiyomi suggested.
"Love bloom through screens by Inori? Okay~"
They started dancing and singing. Miyu's movements were perfect choreography, practiced and efficient as if meant for a crowd of thousands. Kiyomi's were smooth, flowing naturally—as if the dance was meant for one person.
A flicker of memory hit him.
(I did this choreography first… for Inori's debut song. Every spin, every hand motion… I planned it all. I imagined her on stage, her energy matching mine.)
"Inori-chan, here, do it like me."
"You're so good at this, Kiyomi-kun."
He smiled at the memory, a quiet pride warming his chest. Now, performing it here with Miyu, it felt like the dance had grown beyond just him—it was alive, shared.
They rehearsed repeatedly until the sun began to set. Finally, Miyu called it a day. They'd be sharper tomorrow, he said.
"Same time tomorrow?" Kiyomi asked.
Miyu nodded.
"And yes, I know. Keep this secret from Takumi."
After that, each day after lectures, they practiced together. In a short time, their performance began to mimic the charisma and charm of actual idols on stage.
Even more thrilling for them was how their vocals sounded—like real girls singing. Kiyomi's voice was a little weaker, while Miyu's had the polish of someone with years of experience.
"Personal training since I was a kid finally paying off," Miyu declared.
"We've got this!" Kiyomi hyped himself up.
Soon, the day of the interview arrived. They were already prepared, wearing matching dark idol outfits with dog-ear headbands perched atop their wigs. Kiyomi's was pink; Miyu's was blue.
Following the address on their phones, they arrived at the Inferno Talent office near Fujimori Station.
Inside, many girls were waiting for their chance to become idols. Each of them had striking visuals, and their outfits looked polished and professional. Yet Kiyomi and Miyu remained confident.
All the candidates were gathered in a large room where they could watch others perform and be interviewed in front of a panel of judges. The atmosphere felt heavy—every smile carefully rehearsed, every gesture measured.
"Remember, act cute. Most importantly—act like girls at all times," Miyu reminded Kiyomi quietly as they waited for their turn.
Then it was Miyu's turn. His movements were smooth, just as they had practiced. His voice almost mirrored Inori's, clear and controlled. He didn't just capture the judges' attention—he drew in the other candidates as well.
One judge in particular caught Kiyomi's attention.
(That judge isn't just evaluating skill… He's watching who can hold the audience's eyes.)
Kiyomi felt something click inside him.
A plan began forming—one that, in his mind, could secure his position.
When it was Kiyomi's turn, he stepped forward and introduced himself as usual. He began the performance exactly as they had rehearsed. Every move was controlled, every expression measured.
Then, at the final swing, he intentionally let his footing slip.
He fell.
The sudden drop drew gasps from the room. Murmurs spread among the candidates. Out of the three judges, one smirked slightly. He understood.
"Let me redo it again, Mr. Producer," Kiyomi pleaded, looking up with wide, earnest eyes.
One of the judges responded coolly:
"Everyone gets only one chance. Why should we treat you differently for not being prepared?"
"Bau bau~" Kiyomi added softly, leaning into the charm he had practiced.
A few candidates stifled laughs. The judge Kiyomi had been watching finally spoke.
"Let's give her one more chance, shall we?"
Kiyomi quickly rose and bowed.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Producer."
Without wasting a second, he gestured toward Miyu, who was seated among the other candidates. Miyu stood immediately. No hesitation.
The solo became a duo.
They moved together like a near-polished unit—Kiyomi at the center as the main idol, Miyu supporting seamlessly beside him. Most of their transitions were improvised, yet their synchronization made it look intentional, as if every turn and step had been choreographed beforehand.
There were small mistakes, slight missteps—but the energy never dropped.
They chose entertainment over perfection.
By the end, the entire room—candidates and judges alike—was clapping. It no longer felt like an audition. It felt like a stage.
"The chemistry between you two is interesting."
"You complement each other well."
"Thank you for your performance."
Kiyomi kept his head bowed, but inside, his heart pounded with a different kind of thrill.
After the audition, they decided to grab something to eat at WackRonald. They sat across from each other, trays between them.
"Ugh, I'm exhausted."
Miyu flopped forward, arms stretched across the table, cheek pressed against the surface.
"We did good, didn't we, Miyu-chan?"
Miyu lifted his head and grinned.
"You did that intentionally, didn't you?"
"Eh?... Did what?"
Miyu leaned back against his chair, arms folding, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Mhmm… that fall. It was clever."
"Really?"
"It was kind of cheating," Miyu said, shrugging. "But you did what you had to do to stand out."
(Thank God… I thought Miyu would be mad.)
"No, I wouldn't be mad," Miyu replied casually.
(Eh? What?)
"In fact, I'm proud of you. You're already an idol at heart," Miyu said with a smile.
(I'd agree with you… but if I do, we'd both be wrong.)
"Kiyomi-chan~"
"Yes, Miyu-chan?"
"You've got something on your mind?"
"No… I don't."
"Go on. Spill it."
Kiyomi inhaled deeply, then let it out.
"You know… about that time we…" He swallowed. "When we did that…"
Miyu nodded while taking another bite of his burger.
"Mhm… what about it?"
"You didn't talk about it the day after. Like it didn't matter."
"It did matter."
"Then—"
"We were busy practicing to become idols, weren't we?" Miyu said calmly. "I choose to separate my private life from my idol life."
"So you mean—"
Before Kiyomi could finish, Miyu leaned forward and gently pulled him closer across the table. Their lips met—soft, warm, and certain.
To Kiyomi, the kiss felt like an answer.
Not a denial. Just quiet reassurance that what they shared had never been meaningless.