Nagae Estate – Riku's Studio
July 19, 2021 – Monday – 11:00 P.M.
Third POV
A day had passed since the preparations began, and CiRCLE's second live loomed just over the horizon. The city outside slept under a veil of summer haze, but within the walls of the Nagae Estate, the rhythm of music and determination carried on.
Riku had made one thing clear earlier that morning—everyone who was set to perform would take the day off. Marina made sure the invited groups rested and conserved their energy, while Leo/need remained behind with her to put the final touches on the upcoming setlist. Tomorrow would be chaos; tonight was for refinement.
As for Riku himself, he had locked himself in his personal studio—a sprawling space of polished oak floors, soundproof walls, and glowing consoles—joined by Homura and the members of Roselia. The girls were preparing for the upcoming BLAST Asia Rookie Tour, and Rinko had personally requested Riku's presence to watch over their practice.
Roselia arrived at the estate around nine in the morning, their van gliding past the gates like a royal procession. Thirty minutes later, practice began. Yukina had been the first to speak to Riku, grateful yet visibly tense. His opinion carried weight; it wasn't just about approval—it was about affirmation from someone whose artistry they deeply respected.
Normally, Roselia would have practiced in the estate's rehearsal studio, but Riku had something else in mind. He opened his private studio for them—a place filled with state-of-the-art equipment, the kind of environment where every sound could be measured, sculpted, and perfected.
Yukina had written several new songs for Roselia's future performances, and she wanted Riku's critique on each. The rules for the Rookie Tour allowed any selection, original or cover, so she'd gone bold—choosing tracks that demanded both precision and fire. Two in particular stood out among their setlist: My Dearest and Red Fraction.
Hours slipped by in a blur of sound and sweat until the final echoes of Red Fraction faded into silence. Roselia's members turned toward Riku, breaths shallow, eyes searching for his verdict.
Yukina broke the silence first. "Riku-san, how did we do?"
He leaned back against the mixing console, thoughtful, arms crossed. "Aside from Ako-chan fumbling a bit near the end, I'd say you did good."
Ako froze, her eyes wide. "Eh?! I fumbled at the end?!"
Riku chuckled softly. "Your drumstick hit the edge of the snare instead of the center. Threw off the beat slightly—and you used too much arm strength while you were at it."
Ako's shoulders slumped. "Guh..."
He softened his tone. "I know you've got plenty of energy, Ako-chan, but you need to control it. Remember, you're a pro now. In a best-of-five series, if you burn yourself out too fast, you'll end up being a liability."
The little drummer clenched her fists, frustration flickering into resolve. "I'll do my best to improve, Riku-nii!"
Riku nodded with approval. His eyes then shifted subtly toward Sayo, who sat quietly, cradling her right hand in her lap. There was tension in the way she held it—tight, protective. He decided to bring it up later. For now, his attention turned back to Yukina.
"Hm," he began, "I want to ask you something, Yukina."
She tilted her head slightly. "To me?"
"Yeah." He paused, studying her expression. "Have you ever thought about playing the guitar?"
The question drew a chorus of confused glances. Even Yukina blinked, caught off guard by the suddenness of it. "I haven't thought about it," she admitted. "Why ask that out of nowhere?"
Riku's gaze was calm but serious. "No offense, but after listening to your practice, I felt something was missing. If you played the guitar alongside Sayo, I think Roselia could reach another level—more depth, more harmony in your sound."
Yukina's brow furrowed. "And you think a rhythm guitar is what Roselia lacks? I think we're fine as we are."
Sayo crossed her arms, ready to back her up. "Minato-san's right. We've already got it under contro—OW! OW! Riku-san, my hand!!"
Riku had already moved before she could finish. He grabbed her wrist gently but firmly, rolling up her sleeve. Sayo's face twisted in pain, and the others reacted in alarm.
"Riku!" Lisa rushed forward, panic flooding her voice. "What are you doing?!"
Ako stood frozen. "Sayo-san!!"
Rinko, recognizing the situation, gasped. "Oh no..."
The sleeve fell back, revealing the ugly truth beneath—Sayo's wrist was swollen red, angry and tender.
Yukina's composure cracked. "Sayo... when did this happen?"
The guitarist stayed silent, shame flickering across her face. Riku's expression darkened, not with anger, but concern. He knelt and lightly touched her wrist, testing the tension. Even that faint contact made Sayo wince sharply.
"Damn it..." he muttered, low enough that only Rinko caught it.
Riku released Sayo's wrist with a quiet exhale. He pulled out his phone and began typing, his brow furrowed in irritation that felt equal parts worry.
"Her wrist's swollen too much," he muttered under his breath as he typed a message to Eirin. "Judging by the color and how the swelling's spread, this has been going on for at least a week or two."
Lisa blinked in disbelief. "That long? But how didn't we notice it?"
Riku didn't look up. "Because she's been taking the kind of painkillers athletes use to numb the swelling. They keep you going... until they don't." He sent the message, then set the phone down on the nearby table with a soft clack. "And looking at it now, they've stopped working."
Ako tilted her head, curious. "How did you even know that, Riku-nii?"
Riku gave a faint, humorless smile. "Trust me. If Sayo's stubborn enough to let her wrist end up like that, then pros like us are even worse. Most of us go through this kind of swelling sooner or later. The only reason we bounce back faster is because we've got medical staff breathing down our necks about it."
Silence lingered for a moment—only the hum of the amplifiers filled the room. Yukina's gaze lingered on Sayo, disappointment flickering across her usually composed face.
"Why?" she asked softly. "Why push yourself to this extreme?"
Sayo's lips quivered. "I... I just don't want to let you down."
Lisa stepped closer, confusion laced with concern. "Why would Yukina think that? Did something happen between you and Hina-chan again?"
Sayo shook her head. "No, it's not about Hina. I just... I want to do more. With the tournament coming up, I have to practice harder. I have to be better."
Riku's tone sharpened—not angry, but firm. "Sayo, I love your dedication to Roselia. But what you're doing right now isn't helping. It's holding the band back."
"But I—"
"No buts." His voice left no room for argument. "I already messaged Eirin-san and set an appointment. She's expecting you as soon as possible."
Yukina folded her arms, taking a deep breath. "Then we'll have to put our practices on hold."
Riku nodded. "Good. Sayo's well-being comes first. Lisa, I sent you the address where Eirin-san's staying. Show them the message and they'll let you in. Rinko, call Kazehana—she'll drive you girls there."
"Alright," Rinko said quickly, already pulling out her phone. "I'll call Kazehana-san right now."
Ako's hand shot up immediately. "I'll come too!"
Before anyone could object, Ako was already hurrying out the door with Rinko in tow, their footsteps fading down the hall as they searched for Kazehana.
Riku turned back to Sayo, noticing how she was still wincing slightly, trying to hide the pain. He sighed, then walked to a cabinet near the wall. Inside was a compact medicine box, neatly arranged. He pulled out a small bottle of cooling spray and returned to her side.
"Hold still."
The faint hiss of the spray filled the air as the medicine misted across her wrist. Sayo's expression softened, relief washing over her face. "It... it doesn't hurt anymore."
Riku capped the spray and placed it aside. "That's temporary. Don't get used to it." His tone softened slightly as he added, "Goodness, who would've thought you'd be this hard-headed when it comes to Roselia."
Sayo lowered her gaze. "I just wanted to help. And... I wanted to make Hina proud."
Lisa blinked. "You want to make Hina-chan proud?"
Sayo nodded slowly. "When she heard Roselia got invited to BLAST, it was the first time she cried out of joy for me. I've always been the strict one, the one she couldn't read. Seeing her so happy because of me... it made me realize I want to give her something to be proud of. Not just as her sister—but as her equal."
Yukina listened quietly before speaking. "So that's why you've been pushing yourself." Her voice softened, stripped of its usual frost. "I may not have a sibling, but I understand what it means to chase someone's pride. Still, you have to know your limits, Sayo."
Lisa nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yukina's right. Remember when she kept performing even with a cough?"
Sayo let out a faint laugh. "Yeah... that."
Riku crossed his arms. "Now you know where that road leads. Learn from it." He paused as his phone buzzed again—Rinko had messaged him. "The car's ready. Homura, take the girls to the garage."
"Woof!"
The loyal wolfhound barked once, padding toward the door.
Lisa blinked. "You're not coming with us?"
Riku shook his head. "I'd love to, but I've got things to handle here."
"I see." Lisa hesitated, then glanced around. "What about our instruments? Should we take them along?"
"It's better to leave them here," Riku replied. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, and I forgot to mention—after CiRCLE's second live tomorrow, the place'll be closed for two months."
"Eh?" Yukina and Sayo said in unison.
Lisa blinked rapidly. "Wait—CiRCLE's closing? Why?"
"I got a message earlier," Riku explained, picking up his phone again. "CiRCLE and the other live houses chosen for The International are going through renovations. Two of the four are already underway."
Sayo frowned. "Is it really necessary? CiRCLE's in great shape. It's good enough to host the tournament as it is."
Riku gave a light chuckle, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I thought so too... until they told me the government was footing the entire bill."
That earned him three deadpan stares.
Lisa sighed. "You actually fell for that, huh?"
"Hey," Riku said, half-smirking, "at least I'm not spending a single cent from my own account. Can't say no to free renovations."
Yukina shook her head with a small sigh, but the corner of her lips lifted faintly.
Riku continued, his tone returning to normal. "Anyway, since CiRCLE's closed for a while, you're welcome to use this place to practice. Everything you need's here."
Yukina inclined her head. "Thank you, Riku-san. We'll take you up on that."
"It's nothing," he replied, waving a hand. "Now move along. Eirin-san's waiting."
Lisa and Yukina helped Sayo to her feet, careful not to strain her wrist, while Homura waited patiently by the door. The three followed the wolf down the hall toward the garage, their footsteps soft against the polished floors.
Riku stood there for a moment, watching them leave. The studio fell quiet again, the lingering scent of antiseptic spray and the faint echo of music still hanging in the air.
He looked down at his phone—Eirin's reply had already come through. "Understood. Bring her right away. I'll prepare what's needed."
Riku exhaled through his nose, setting the device aside. "Guess some lessons just need to hurt a little first," he muttered.
And with that, he turned back toward the console, his fingers brushing the controls. The screen flickered to life, lighting his face in shades of blue. Work waited, as always.
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Nagae Estate – Riku's Room
9:00 P.M.
Riku's POV
Hours had passed since Sayo's injury came to light. The estate had quieted down, the only sounds left being the faint hum of cicadas outside and the tapping of my pen against the paper. I was in my room, finishing the last verse of a song I'd been piecing together during what little free time I had.
Sayo's condition, thankfully, wasn't as bad as it looked. Rinko called earlier to give me the update—Eirin-san said the swelling was manageable. Two weeks of rest and careful following of instructions, and she'd be back to normal. If they'd gone to a regular doctor, they'd probably have been told to stop all activity for a month or two. That kind of timeline would've destroyed Roselia's momentum. Eirin, though... she worked miracles quietly.
Setting the pen aside, I exhaled and leaned back in my chair. The melody was still looping in my head, but something else kept drawing my attention—a blank music file on my phone's home screen. It wasn't something I downloaded. It was something my grandfather, Kyoya, had given me.
A memory from two days ago came to mind, still sharp and clear.
Flashback – Two Days Ago
After showing Moon Riverie to Grandfather, he gave a slow nod of approval before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. His expression was unreadable, but there was something weighed down behind his eyes—something that had been there for years.
"Riku," he said quietly, "give me your phone for a moment."
"Uh... yeah, sure."
I handed it to him without question. He tapped through his screen, transferring a file over through a direct link. When he handed my phone back, I noticed it immediately: a new icon sitting at the center of my home screen—a blank music file. No name, no metadata, nothing.
"Uh, Grandfather," I asked, "what is this?"
He exhaled, the kind of breath that carried history. "It's something I intended to give you a long time ago. But I couldn't. Not while I was still grieving... your mother's loss."
I felt a small knot form in my chest. "Ha... I see. So what is it?"
"That," he said, looking at me with an oddly proud but distant gaze, "is the prototype of the SEKAI your mother created."
I blinked. "Wait—what? I thought there were only five SEKAI systems."
"There are," he said, "but this one is different. It's the very first—her foundation. Every other SEKAI was built from this one."
I stared at the phone, the weight of his words sinking in. "So... this is the first SEKAI? The original?"
Kyoya nodded. "Yes. And I'm giving it to you now because it might help you once you're back in the competitive scene. Your mother planned to give it to you on your eighteenth birthday."
A faint, sad smile ghosted over his lips. "I know it's late. But... I think it's time I let go of what she left behind."
I looked down at the phone again, the nameless icon reflecting faintly in my eyes. "She really meant to give me this..."
"Indeed," Kyoya said. "But as for how you use it—that's entirely up to you. She left no instructions, no restrictions."
End of Flashback
The silence in my room deepened as I stared at that same icon. Something about it felt alive—like a sleeping presence waiting to be acknowledged. The first SEKAI... my mother's work.
I hesitated, thumb hovering just above the screen. Everyone else had turned in for the night, so if I was going to test it, now was the time.
But before I could tap it, a light tap-tap came from my window.
I looked up.
It was Kuroka.
She was perched on the sill, her golden eyes gleaming faintly against the night sky. I got up and opened the window, stepping aside as she slipped inside with the grace of a shadow.
"Well," I said, crossing my arms, "that took you long enough. I thought you'd be back by dinner."
Kuroka groaned softly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yukari-san kinda... detained me. She got curious about the Evil Pieces, and I had to sit through an hour of questions."
"Did you at least ask what she plans to do with that information?"
"I'd rather not," she said flatly. "One look at her and I can tell she's more cunning than half the devils in my world combined."
I couldn't help but chuckle. "That's Yukari-san for you. Manipulative, sharp, but always acting for the sake of balance. She's dangerous—but never without purpose."
Kuroka tilted her head. "Uh-huh... well, what are you doing now?"
"About to try something," I said, glancing at the phone on my desk. "But you have to promise not to freak out, okay?"
Her ears twitched nervously. "O-okay? But what are you gonna do?"
"This."
I picked up my phone and looked at the blank file again. "If I remember what mother said... yeah, that's right."
Kuroka blinked. "Riku?"
I smiled faintly. "Into the SEKAI."
The moment the words left my mouth and I tapped the icon, the room seemed to warp. My body started to glow faintly, outlines fading like mist caught in light.
"Riku?!" Kuroka's eyes widened as she reached out instinctively.
Her hand passed right through me. The shock on her face twisted into panic. "Riku! What's happening?!"
"I think... it's starting," I said, my voice already fading. "Tell the others I'll be fine."
"Riku!"
But her shout broke into silence as the world around me dissolved completely.
The last thing I saw before vanishing was Kuroka's face—fear and confusion carved into her eyes—as the glow consumed everything. Then there was nothing.
Only light.
And a pull, deep and magnetic, dragging me somewhere between sound and silence.
Blank SEKAI
When my vision steadied, I found myself standing in a place that felt both endless and empty. There was no sky, no ground, only an ocean of white stretching infinitely in every direction. No sound. No scent. Just silence.
"So this is what a blank SEKAI looks like..." I murmured, my voice echoing faintly, as if the world itself was listening.
Then, a familiar voice broke through the quiet. "So you finally made it, Riku."
I turned, and there she was—Miku. Her steps were light, but her expression carried something heavy, something she'd been holding for far too long. She came close without a word and wrapped her arms around me. I froze for a second before I returned the hug, realizing she was trembling. Tears soaked into my shoulder.
She had always been composed, cheerful, even playful. But right now, she was simply a person mourning someone we both lost. My mother's death had left wounds deeper than time could heal. So I said nothing, just held her until the quiet settled again.
When she finally stepped back, her eyes were red, but there was a faint smile returning to her lips.
"You good now?" I asked softly.
She nodded. "I'm good. Welcome to the SEKAI, Riku. But this one... it's unlike the others."
I raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"
"In this SEKAI, whatever you imagine will take form. It's a place shaped by your mind. But once the world manifests, you can't change it again."
"So it's a one-time creation."
"Exactly. So, I'd suggest imagining somewhere that feels like home."
I took a slow breath and closed my eyes. The white faded from my thoughts, replaced by color and memory. I pictured the OG Sunflower Mansion in Lisbon—the recording studio gleaming with chrome, walls lined with soundproof glass, the faint scent of coffee and cables, laughter from the band echoing through the halls. Every corner of that place had a piece of my past embedded in it.
When I opened my eyes, the transformation was complete. I was standing in the mansion's production studio, everything replicated perfectly down to the smallest detail. Even the air felt the same—thick with music and the faint hum of creativity. I glanced at my reflection on a nearby mirror and noticed the familiar black suit I used to wear during OG's world tours.
A quiet smile tugged at my lips. "So this is my SEKAI..."
I walked through the studio, each step taking me deeper into nostalgia. The mixing desk, the mic stands, the guitars—everything was just as I remembered. A piece of the past rebuilt in the present.
"How do you like your SEKAI?"
The voice came from my left. I turned and saw Miku seated casually on a chair, dressed differently this time. She wore a black OG tour shirt like mine, paired with a short skirt, white socks, and a clean pair of Adidas. Her teal twin tails reached only to her hips now, a bit shorter, giving her a sharp yet familiar look. Draped over her shoulders was an OG jacket with her name embroidered on the back and the number 39 stitched beneath it.
I chuckled lightly. "You look good in that."
She crossed one leg over the other, smiling. "Of course. A manager has to look the part."
"Manager?" I asked, amused.
"In every SEKAI, the Virtual Singers take on roles suited to the person who enters. Here, I'm your manager."
I tilted my head. "Not bad. So, what else is in this world?"
"There's something important you should see," she said, standing up. "Follow me."
We made our way through the familiar hallways until we reached what used to be Johan's office back in Lisbon. But inside this SEKAI, it had been transformed. A massive screen covered one wall, connected to a console brimming with buttons, symbols, and flowing data.
"This," Miku said, gesturing to the screen, "is the SEKAI Administrator Room. From here, you can observe the five existing SEKAI worlds and monitor their progress."
I blinked. "You mean I can see what Mafuyu and the others are doing?"
"Exactly. But your authority is still low for now. You can only observe, not interact. The more time you spend in this SEKAI, the more that authority will grow."
"So eventually, I could visit their SEKAI?"
She nodded. "Once your access level is high enough, yes. That's how the system was designed by your mother."
The mention of my mother made me fall quiet for a moment. Even now, hearing that she had built all of this—had left it for me—felt surreal.
After a short silence, I asked, "Are there any limits to who I can bring here?"
"Since this is the first SEKAI, no. You can bring as many people as you trust. Unlike the others, which cap at four. But remember—trust is the only rule here."
I nodded slowly. "Understood. Thanks for the warning."
She smiled faintly. "No problem." Then her gaze shifted, softening with a hint of sadness. "It looks like your time is almost up."
I looked down and noticed the edges of my hand flickering, fading like sand caught in the wind.
"What's happening?"
Miku folded her arms, half amused. "Two ways to leave a SEKAI: either you will yourself out, or your phone's battery dies. Judging by the look on your face, I'm guessing it's the second one."
I sighed. "Ah. Right. Forgot to charge it again."
"Well," she said, her tone lightening, "we'll meet again soon. And next time, I'll bring the others too."
I grinned faintly, already feeling the pull of reality dragging me back. "I'll hold you to that. See you soon, Miku."
She nodded, her smile soft but sure. "See you later, Riku."
The light around me fractured, scattering like shards of glass. The studio, the warmth, even Miku's figure—all of it dissolved into white. The last thing I saw was her standing in the empty room, hands clasped behind her back, watching me disappear with that quiet, unbreakable smile.
And then—darkness.
Now Back to the Real World
Nagae Estate – Riku's Room
10:00 P.M.
The moment I opened my eyes, the white void was gone. My ceiling had returned—the familiar lines, the soft hum of the air conditioner, the faint scent of cedar from the old floors. I blinked a few times and spotted my phone lying on the desk, screen dark, battery completely drained.
Before I could even reach for it, something slammed into my back. Hard. I hit the floor with a thud and a groan.
When I turned around, three faces hovered above me—Rinko, Miyu, and Eli—each one tear-streaked and panicked.
"Riku!" Rinko's voice trembled as she wrapped her arms around me. "You're finally back..."
Miyu sniffed, brushing at her eyes. "Kuroka-san said you vanished—like, literally vanished! My heart stopped!"
Eli, though keeping a straighter face, still had the faintest crack in her tone. "Don't you ever do that again without telling us first. Are we clear, dear?"
Her calling me "dear" made both Rinko and Miyu whip their heads toward her with wide eyes. I didn't even have the energy to react—just pulled them close and let the panic settle.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly, my voice muffled against Rinko's shoulder. "I won't do it again. Promise."
Eli drew back, still holding my hand. "Then tell us—what happened to you, dear?"
Before I could answer, another voice joined in—cool, even, but tinged with restrained shock. Mafuyu had been standing at the doorway the entire time, eyes fixed on me.
"Nii-san," she said, "how did you get your own SEKAI?"
Rinko blinked. "SEKAI? What's that?" She turned to me, brows furrowed. "Riku, what is she talking about?"
"It's... something my mother made," I replied, still catching my breath. "As for how I got it, Grandfather gave it to me. It was supposed to be a birthday gift—my eighteenth, to be exact—but..."
The sentence faded. They knew how that story ended.
Rinko helped me up while Miyu brushed off my back. I picked up my dead phone and plugged it into the charger. After a minute or two, the screen lit up again. Once it had enough power, I opened the interface and showed Mafuyu the blank music file.
She leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "Hm. That's definitely not one of the five active SEKAI systems."
"Grandfather said this one was the prototype—the foundation of the five," I explained. "Miku told me I can use it to oversee the others. Though right now, my authority's too low to interact. I can only observe."
Mafuyu folded her arms, her tone softening but still thoughtful. "So that means... you could eventually enter our SEKAI? The 25-ji one?"
"Yeah. But not yet. It'll take time."
She nodded slowly, as if weighing the information. "Should I tell the others?"
"Please do," I said. "They'll want to know."
"Very well," she replied, already turning toward the door. "Good night, nii-san. And... try not to stay in the SEKAI too long. That's advice from your senpai."
When she left, the room fell quiet again. The air was still heavy from all their earlier worry. Rinko, Miyu, and Eli were still trying to make sense of everything.
"Um... Riku-san," Miyu began carefully, "what was that conversation about? You and Mafuyu sounded like you were talking in code."
I gave a faint chuckle. "It's nothing dangerous. Just... complicated."
Eli crossed her arms. "Nothing to worry about, huh? You vanished into thin air, Riku. How does that not qualify as worrying?"
She wasn't wrong. I thought for a moment, trying to find a way to explain without it sounding insane. Then, a memory of Miku's words resurfaced—the rule that this SEKAI could bring in others I trusted.
A small idea formed.
"Alright," I said, straightening. "You three, give me your phones."
They exchanged glances but didn't question it. One by one, they handed them over. I connected them to my device and copied the SEKAI file. When I gave their phones back, a small icon—a blank music note—had appeared on each of their screens.
Rinko tilted her head. "What is this?"
"Just trust me," I said. "Follow what I do."
Their trust in me was absolute. They nodded without hesitation. My phone had already charged to sixty-two percent. That would be enough.
I took a deep breath, then whispered the same words that had sent me there before.
"Well then... Into the SEKAI."
Light began to bloom around me, swallowing the edges of my vision. My body shimmered, fading into the same rhythm of disintegration I'd felt earlier.
"Riku!" Rinko gasped, but I caught her gaze and smiled, calm and steady.
"It's okay," I said, my voice already echoing. "Just follow me."
The glow enveloped me, and the room dissolved into white.
For a moment, there was silence—until the three of them, with perfect synchrony, echoed my words:
"Into the SEKAI."
One by one, they vanished in a soft cascade of light, following after me without hesitation.
And just like that, the room was empty. The faint hum of the charger was the only thing left behind.
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Live House CiRCLE – Riku's Office
July 20, 2021 – Tuesday – 10:00 A.M.
Third POV
The night before had been nothing short of surreal. When Riku showed the girls the SEKAI, their eyes widened in awe, taking in the endless expanse of the blank world that pulsed faintly with light. It was both alive and still, a place that hummed with possibility. When Miku appeared before them, their astonishment only deepened—seeing the virtual idol materialize in front of them was one thing, but what followed left them speechless.
Rin, Len, and Luka joined her soon after, their vibrant presence lighting up the otherwise quiet SEKAI. The moment Luka saw Riku, she wasted no time pulling him into a deep embrace, pressing his face against her chest as if she'd been waiting an eternity to see him again. Rinko, Eli, and Miyu watched in stunned silence, a mix of disbelief and jealousy flickering across their faces.
Miku only smiled knowingly and explained that Luka had always been affectionate toward Riku—after all, he had been the one who designed her. That revelation left the three women silent for a different reason. To know their fiancé had literally created one of the most beloved virtual idols on the planet left them momentarily speechless.
When Riku asked Miku about MEIKO and KAITO, she merely smiled faintly and told him there would come a time when he would meet them again. For now, they were elsewhere—busy fulfilling their own roles within the fabric of the SEKAI.
The Kagamine twins, eager to please, offered to guide Rinko, Eli, and Miyu through the digital realm. The girls followed them through dreamlike landscapes while Riku stayed behind to speak privately with Luka and Miku. They explained the structure of the world: the Virtual Singers served as the caretakers of the SEKAI, each with a specific role. Luka oversaw medical support, Rin and Len handled maintenance and calibration, MEIKO served as the chef, and KAITO took the role of psychiatrist—guardians and keepers of this emotional world his family had built.
When the twins finished the tour, however, a sudden shimmer caught their attention. Eli's form flickered—and before anyone could react, she vanished in a flash of light. Rinko gasped, clutching Miyu's arm. Miku immediately explained that Eli's phone battery had drained, forcibly ejecting her from the SEKAI. Once the shock faded, they decided it was best to leave as well. CiRCLE's second live performance was only hours away, and reality was calling them back.
When they returned to the real world, Riku made them promise to keep everything secret. Only those he trusted completely—his fiancées—could access the SEKAI through the connection he had granted them. They agreed, still dazed by what they had witnessed. Before heading to bed, Riku wished Eli luck on her performance.
Now, the morning light poured softly through the blinds of Riku's office at Live House CiRCLE. He stretched his arms, the faint ache in his muscles reminding him of last night's strange beauty. His desk was neat, his focus sharp. Today wasn't just another rehearsal day—he had plans for μ's before their warm-up began.
A knock interrupted the quiet.
"Who is it?" he called out.
"It's me, boss," Hatate's voice came from the other side. "And I brought μ's along with Aichi."
"Bring them in."
The door opened, and the lively group entered, their usual energy filling the room. Aichi followed behind, calm and observant as always. Hatate offered a small nod before slipping back out to continue her duties.
Riku leaned casually against his desk, eyes scanning the group. "There's a reason I called you here before your warm-up," he said, tone calm but deliberate. "And it's important."
Umi tilted her head. "Is this about our signing with OG?"
He shook his head. "No. That will come later." His gaze shifted. "Nico, Nozomi. Step forward."
The two exchanged a glance, half curious and half wary, before stepping closer. Nozomi folded her arms lightly. "You needed something from us, Rikucchi?"
Nico crossed hers. "Yeah. You called me and Nozomi specifically. What gives?"
"I want to give you both something," Riku replied, reaching into a drawer. "And trust me—it'll help you in the long run."
He pulled out a plain folder and handed it to Nozomi. She opened it, expecting documents, but froze when her eyes caught the neatly printed lyrics inside. Her breath hitched. "This is... a lyric sheet."
Nico leaned over and snatched it from her, scanning the lines quickly. "Give me that." Her crimson eyes darted between the paper and Riku. Something about the words felt too intentional, too perfectly tuned to her and Nozomi's dynamic. "What's the catch?" she asked flatly.
Riku raised a brow. "Hm?"
"I said, what's the damn catch?" she pressed, her tone sharp but not hostile. "You don't just hand out songs you've written for free. You've got something in mind, right?"
A faint smirk curved his lips. "You're sharper than most. But no—there's no trick here. This song was made with both of you in mind. You're the perfect fit for it."
Nozomi blinked. "Me and Nicocchi? A perfect fit for your song?"
"I'm sure," Riku said with quiet certainty. "Consider it a gift—for joining OG. But I'd recommend you perform it in September."
Rin, who had been sitting cross-legged on the couch, tilted her head curiously. "Is there a reason Nico-chan and Nozomi-chan have to perform it that month, nya?"
Riku shrugged lightly. "You can perform it anytime, really—"
Before he could finish, Aichi, who had been silent until then, stepped closer. "But if it's tied to a specific date..." He looked at Nico. "Let me see the folder."
Nico hesitated for a moment, then handed it over. Aichi flipped through the pages carefully, his expression unreadable as he studied the notations and the faint margin notes written in Riku's precise handwriting. His brows furrowed slightly, the faint hum of realization settling in his tone as he said quietly, "I think I know why."
"Moonlit Festival..." he murmured, gaze lifting toward Riku. "You wrote this for Kaguya, didn't you?"
The room fell silent. The girls of μ's turned sharply to Riku, eyes wide, waiting for confirmation.
Riku leaned back against his desk, a faint, wistful smile touching his lips. "Yeah. Moonlit Festival was written about Kaguya—and not just her. Udongein plays a part too. I wrote the lyrics, and Shinobu composed the music."
Honoka tilted her head in surprise. "Wait—you didn't compose it yourself?"
Riku chuckled softly. "Not this time. I asked Shinobu from Peakey P-Key—or rather, OG.P-key—to handle the composition. In exchange, I agreed to host the Sunset Stage event. You all saw that one, right?"
Umi nodded. "We did. And I'll admit—if you weren't a musician, you'd make a great host. You had the crowd fired up from start to finish."
"Why, thank you," he said, tone half teasing but appreciative. "Anyway, this song I'm giving you—it's not an ordinary one. It's from the Lost Word Project."
Hanayo blinked. "Lost Word Project?"
Riku folded his arms, his expression growing more serious. "It's a special project I've been building quietly for years. Each song from it carries a deeper resonance—a kind of emotional frequency that interacts with the performer. The moment you sing it, you'll understand. The effects are powerful, so use it wisely."
Nozomi's usual grin softened into something more contemplative. "Then we'll save it until the time feels right." She turned to Nico. "Nicocchi, how about we practice it after the live ends?"
Nico's lips curled into a smirk. "I like your style. Let's do it."
Riku held up a hand. "About that... I'm afraid I have to cut your plans short."
Nico frowned. "Why?"
"Because in two days," Riku said, straightening his posture, "OG will be holding a press conference here in Japan. We'll be formally introducing μ's and Peakey P-Key as new members of OG."
The room exploded in gasps. Even Aichi's calm composure wavered as his eyes widened slightly.
"Wait, two days?!" Honoka exclaimed. "That's way too soon!"
Aichi stepped in, brows furrowed. "Isn't that a little early, Riku? And what about MORE MORE JUMP? Shouldn't they be part of this, too?"
Riku shook his head. "Grandfather will handle that himself. He specifically told me to leave it to him."
Hanayo's voice trembled a little. "Press conference... does that mean we'll be interviewed by the media?"
"Yup," Riku replied with a casual grin. "You're about to experience what being a professional idol truly feels like. But don't worry—I'll be there with you, and so will Johan. You won't face the cameras alone."
Nozomi exhaled, visibly relieved. "That's reassuring to hear."
Riku gave a satisfied nod. "Then that's settled. I've said what I needed to. You girls go warm up. Aichi and I have a few things to discuss."
μ's filed out one by one, some whispering nervously, others brimming with excitement. Once the door closed behind them, the air shifted. Silence lingered for a few seconds—until Riku's eyes suddenly flickered. His demeanor changed subtly, posture softening, and when he spoke again, his tone was distinctly different.
"Yo, Aichi."
Aichi's eyes widened. "Nee-san? Wait—you're controlling Riku's body again? How?"
A faint smirk crossed Riku's lips, though the voice was no longer his. "I've been behaving lately, so I got temporary control privileges—with supervision, of course." Tenshi's presence radiated faintly through the room, a mix of playful warmth and divine pressure. "Anyway... are you finally going to confess to Honoka and Umi after this?"
Aichi froze. "I... honestly don't know. Just thinking about it terrifies me. I can face duels, disasters, even gods—but this? I'm scared of ruining what the four of us already have. If I say how I really feel, what if it breaks everything?"
Riku—no, Tenshi—clicked her tongue. "You idiot brother of mine. Stop fixating on what could go wrong. If you keep thinking it'll end badly, it will. Do you really think Honoka and Umi would hate you for being honest about your feelings? They've been with you and Kotori for years. That bond isn't so fragile."
A sudden hum broke the tension as a bright blue glow flared from Riku's left arm—the Divine Dividing. Its mechanical wings extended slightly as Riku's true voice echoed through the device, resonant and calm.
[Tenshi's right, those three have always stood together. Their bond won't waver. All you need to do, Aichi, is be true to yourself—and go above and beyond.]
Aichi stared at the glowing gauntlet for a long moment, words caught in his throat. Then he lowered his head, inhaled deeply, and slapped his cheeks twice to center himself. Determination sparked in his eyes. "Thanks for the pep talk, both of you."
Riku's body—still under Tenshi's control—stepped closer and placed both hands firmly on Aichi's shoulders. "No problem. It's a sister's duty to look after her little brother." A gentle grin crossed Riku's face, softening Tenshi's voice. "Now, consider this a token of my luck."
Before Aichi could react, Riku flicked him lightly on the forehead. A gentle light flared where her finger touched, enveloping Aichi in a faint golden glow that shimmered around him for a few seconds before fading.
He blinked, glancing at his hands. "I don't feel any different..."
"The effect's passive, bonehead," Tenshi said with a short laugh. "Now get going—you don't want to keep your fiancée waiting."
Aichi chuckled under his breath, his earlier anxiety replaced with quiet confidence. "Got it." He turned toward the door. "Thanks again, Nee-san... Riku." Then, without another word, he left.
Silence lingered for a few seconds after the door shut. Then Riku's true consciousness surfaced again, his voice echoing faintly within.
[You think he'll actually go through with it?]
Tenshi's laugh rippled through his mind. "I have faith in him. He's my brother, after all."
[Thank God he's not a battle junkie like you,] Riku muttered dryly.
That earned a loud laugh from Tenshi. "Watch it, kid."
Their shared amusement built into full-blown laughter, echoing between them like siblings trading punches after an old spar.
But somewhere else, far beyond the walls of Live House CiRCLE—within the crystalline halls of the Dragon Palace—their laughter took form. Riku's and Tenshi's spirits manifested before one another, energy sparking between them as though daring the other to make a move.
It started as teasing—until the tension sharpened. Lightning crackled along Tenshi's arm; dragonlight flared in Riku's eyes. Both lunged at once, their powers colliding in a flash of brilliance—
—and were abruptly frozen midair as a blinding blue surge split the room.
"Enough!"
Iku appeared between them, one hand raised, an almost exhausted expression on his face. "What am I going to do with you two?"
----------
Live House CiRCLE – 5:00 P.M.
Only an hour remained before the second live began, and the energy inside Live House CiRCLE was already buzzing. Nearly half of the crowd had arrived, spilling into the venue with the restless excitement that always came before a show. At the entrance stood Riku, sleeves rolled up, greeting each guest with his usual polite smile. He had insisted on taking the front himself—said it was good to meet the fans face-to-face.
Many of them were students from Hanasakigawa and Haneoka, waving shyly as they thanked him for the student discounts he'd offered. Riku only laughed it off, brushing their gratitude aside with a grin. "Just enjoy the show," he told them.
Mixed among the crowd were a few older men and women with sharp eyes and clipboards—scouts from professional talent organizations. They observed the entrance and murmured among themselves, likely thinking of contracts and opportunities. What they didn't realize was that both idol groups performing tonight were already under the care of someone else.
As Riku stepped aside to welcome another set of guests, a soft, mature voice called out from the line.
"Um, excuse me. Is this Live House CiRCLE?"
Turning, Riku saw a woman with pink hair tied neatly into a bun. Her eyes were closed in that gentle way that made her expression unreadable, yet kind. Beside her stood a young girl with the same pink hair, though hers was brightened by two hairbands—one blue, one yellow—on each side. The resemblance was unmistakable.
"Yes, this is the place," Riku replied, offering a courteous nod. "I'm Nagae Riku, owner of the live house."
The woman let out a soft chuckle. "Ara~ To think the owner would be so young. My name is Gotoh Michiyo, and this is my daughter, Futari."
"Gotoh?" Riku repeated, tilting his head. "So... you're Hitori's mother and sister, then."
Michiyo's smile curved wider. "Ara~ First-name basis already? My, my... to think that Hitori has already made advances on you~"
Riku blinked. "Uh... what?"
He felt the misunderstanding hit like a train. The playful tone, the amused tilt of her voice—it was clear she'd mistaken him for Hitori's boyfriend. Before he could explain, the younger sister chimed in cheerfully.
"Onii-san," Futari said, clasping her hands together, "onee-chan might be a huge pain in the neck, but please take care of her!"
Riku's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait—hold on, that's not—"
His protest was cut short by a sharp, panicked voice from behind him.
"MOM!!! FUTARI!!! IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!!! ME AND RIKU-SAN AREN'T LIKE THAT!!!"
The outburst made several guests turn their heads. Hitori stood there, breathless from running, her face red enough to match her hair. She pointed accusingly at her family as if that would erase the misunderstanding.
Michiyo tilted her head, unfazed. "Ara~ And you're calling him by his first name too. Are you sure he isn't your boyfriend?"
"Because he insisted I call him that!" Hitori shouted back, mortified.
Riku raised his hands in surrender. "Uhm... for the record, Hitori's not my girlfriend. I'm actually engaged."
That earned him a double-take from both Michiyo and Hitori. Even Futari blinked in surprise. To make things clear, Riku took out his phone and showed them a photo of him and Rinko together—one taken during the festival, the two of them smiling like they had the whole world figured out.
Michiyo leaned closer, studying the screen. "Ara~ So you're engaged~"
Futari's eyes sparkled. "And she's beautiful too!"
"Thanks," Riku said, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "We were childhood friends. It just... kind of happened naturally, I guess."
Michiyo's soft laugh carried the warmth of someone who'd seen this kind of sincerity before. "Ufufufufu~ You really love her, don't you?"
Riku didn't hesitate. "I do."
That answer seemed to satisfy her. She nodded approvingly, folding her arms. "Then I'll stop teasing—for now. Since we came all this way to see Hitori perform, may we spend some time with her before the show starts?"
"Of course," Riku said, stepping aside. "Just make sure you're back in the dressing room ten minutes before curtain."
Hitori blinked, visibly surprised by the leniency. "Is that... really okay?"
"It's cool," he said, smiling. "Family comes first."
Hitori looked genuinely touched. "T-thank you, Riku-san."
Riku gave a casual nod and turned back to his post as the Gotoh family headed outside, chattering happily. Watching them go, he couldn't help but laugh under his breath. The scene had been chaotic, but the warmth in their interactions reminded him of why he loved running the place. Live House CiRCLE wasn't just a venue—it was a space for people to feel connected.
Minutes slipped by. The stream of guests began to thin, and Riku checked the digital log beside the counter. Every ticket had been scanned in. Sold out. He leaned back against the desk, letting a quiet smile spread across his face. The energy of a full house always carried its own kind of magic.
He glanced at his watch—twenty minutes to showtime. He straightened his jacket, ready to head backstage when a familiar figure appeared at the doorway.
"Owner-san," Ichika called softly, her hands clasped behind her back.
He turned. "Something you need, Ichika?"
She shook her head, her calm expression giving nothing away. "No, I just wanted to let you know—Marina-san's already with the girls in the waiting room. Everything's running smoothly."
"I see." Riku nodded, relief flickering across his face. "Good. I'll drop by before the show begins."
Ichika smiled faintly, as if reading the quiet anticipation behind his words. "They'll be glad to see you."
Riku exhaled, glancing once more toward the crowded hall, then back toward the dim corridor leading to the backstage rooms. The sound of laughter, tuning instruments, and muffled chatter drifted faintly through the air.
He pocketed his phone and started walking, the weight of preparation and pride steady in his steps. The night ahead promised excitement—and as always, Riku was right at the heart of it.
Live House CiRCLE – Waiting Room
5:50 P.M.
Backstage hummed with the sound of tuning instruments and quiet chatter. The waiting room, once a place of nerves and fidgeting hands, now thrummed with anticipation. The lineup was staggering—Afterglow, Kessoku Band, Rondo, MORE MORE JUMP!, and μ's—all gathered under one roof, each group representing a different world of music.
Marina stood before them, clipboard in hand, her usually brisk expression softening with gratitude. The weight of the moment pressed gently on her shoulders; it wasn't every day she managed to bring together this kind of lineup.
"Before we begin," she started, her voice steady but warm, "I just want to say thank you all for accepting the invite to perform here. Afterglow, Kessoku Band, and Rondo—thank you for saying yes without hesitation. For Afterglow and Kessoku Band, it wasn't too hard to convince you, but for Rondo..." Her lips curved into a small, sheepish smile. "Given your reputation, I honestly thought you'd reject me right away. I can't tell you how happy I was when you accepted."
Aoi crossed her arms, her tone calm but firm. "It's no big deal, Marina-san. We made this choice ourselves."
Nagisa grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah! Don't sell yourself short, you did great!"
Hiiro chuckled softly, that trademark, elegant laugh of hers floating in the air. "Ufufufu~."
Tsubaki glanced at her group before nodding. "If anything, accepting was a blessing in disguise. It feels right being here."
Marina's throat tightened. She remembered vividly the day she had approached Rondo about performing—how her hands had trembled as she clutched her proposal, convinced she'd be turned away before finishing her first sentence. But Aoi had accepted before Marina could even finish explaining, and that single moment of grace had stuck with her ever since.
She blinked back the warmth rising in her eyes and turned to face the idols from MORE MORE JUMP! and μ's, who were standing near the mirrors, adjusting their costumes.
"As for you girls," she continued, voice trembling slightly, "at first, I thought this whole live was going to be a disaster. Some of the bands I'd originally invited dropped out at the last minute, and I was this close to cancelling everything. But then Riku recommended you—said you'd bring a kind of energy that could lift the night back up." She smiled at them, and this time, her expression wasn't just managerial—it was human. "He was right. You brought back my hope. With all of you here, I can finally make my dream come true."
Nijika tilted her head, curious. "Your dream?"
Marina hesitated. She hadn't really talked about it in years. But looking at their faces—young, driven, filled with the same fire she once had—something in her gave way.
"You see," she began, her tone quieter now, "I was in a band once. I played guitar. We weren't famous or anything, but we had our moments—small gigs, loyal fans, a few songs that got around. For a while, I thought we could really make it. But time... it has a way of testing people. One by one, the others lost their drive. Before I knew it, I was the only one left still holding on."
The room grew still. Even the faint tuning outside the door seemed to hush.
"I didn't know what to do," she admitted. "So I started volunteering at live events—carrying equipment, taking notes, learning whatever I could. I figured if I couldn't be on stage, I'd help others reach it. Eventually, I decided I wanted to host my own event—a real live show, with a full crowd. That became my dream."
She drew in a breath, her hands tightening around her clipboard. "But every time I applied to work as a manager, I was rejected. No matter how much experience I gained, how many people I helped, no one gave me a chance. After a while... it broke me. I started thinking maybe I wasn't meant to belong here after all."
The way she said it made the air feel heavy.
Umi, her expression pained, stepped forward. "But why? With all the dedication you've shown, you should have had people lining up to hire you."
Marina shook her head, forcing a small, sad laugh. "I wish I knew why. All I remember is feeling so tired... so worthless. And at one point, I almost—"
Her words caught, and she didn't finish. But she didn't need to. The tension in the room said it for her. Nozomi gently placed a hand on her shoulder, while Hiiro whispered something calming beside her. It took a moment before Marina found her composure again.
"But then," she said softly, "I met Kyoya-sama."
The mention of the name drew a few surprised glances.
"He hired me on the spot—didn't even ask for my resume. Just looked at me and said, 'You'll manage CiRCLE.'" Marina smiled faintly at the memory. "He trusted me right away, even when I didn't trust myself. Told me to take care of the place when the owner wasn't around. I thought he was crazy."
Tsubaki raised a brow, her tone teasing. "And that owner would be my kouhai, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah," Marina chuckled. "When I first met him, I was expecting someone arrogant—a big name who'd look down on everyone. But instead, I found this humble, almost awkward guy. And... well, I might've made a terrible first impression."
Ran tilted her head. "A bad impression? What'd you do, trip over your own feet or something?"
Marina sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Worse. When Riku came here for the first time, his old bandmates from OG showed up too. I was so overwhelmed I actually collapsed from excitement."
There was a beat of silence before Tomoe spoke up, deadpan. "You passed out? Seriously?"
Marina groaned, covering her face. "I know! It's so embarrassing! But can you blame me? The three-time TI champions just waltzed into my venue like it was nothing! Who wouldn't faint?"
The room broke into laughter, the tension from before melting away in the sound. Even Marina joined in after a moment, shaking her head.
"Anyway," she continued once the laughter settled, "meeting Riku made me believe that maybe... my dream wasn't so far off. When CiRCLE's first live became a success, I finally felt proud of what I'd built. And when Riku told me I'd be in charge of the second event—" she placed a hand over her heart "—I thought my chest would burst from joy."
Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears as she looked around at every band in the room. "And now, tonight, everything I've worked for leads to this moment. So, I have only one question left—are you girls ready?"
Her shout ignited the room.
"Hai!!!" they answered in unison, the sound echoing like a battle cry.
Marina beamed. Before she could add more, a knock echoed from the door. She turned and opened it—and there stood Riku.
"Riku!" Marina's face lit up. "What brings you here?"
He leaned against the frame, hands in his pockets, expression calm but approving. "Just checking in. Looks like things are running smoothly. Good work, Marina."
Her cheeks colored faintly at the praise. "Th-thank you!"
He turned his gaze to the room full of girls. "Oh, and one more thing—just thought you should know. There are several scouts from professional organizations in the audience tonight. They'll be watching your performances."
That sentence dropped into the room like a spark. The idols stiffened, eyes widening. Some gasped softly. Ran's hands clenched into fists, her usual cool demeanor replaced by a hint of nerves. But across from her, Aoi and Tsubaki shared a confident glance, their expressions unwavering.
Riku's eyes swept over each group—the flicker of uncertainty in some, the quiet fire in others. His gaze stopped on Kessoku Band, and he saw no fear there, only resolve. The kind that didn't need words.
A faint smile curved on his lips. "Good. That's what I like to see."
He straightened and looked back at Marina. "I'll leave the rest to you."
Marina's hand shot up in a salute. "Hai! Leave it all to me!"
Riku chuckled, then stepped back toward the hallway. As the door closed behind him, the room seemed to pulse with renewed energy. The bands exchanged glances—some grinning, others steadying their breathing.
Marina turned to face them again, her voice firm now, the manager mask slipping neatly back into place. "You heard him. Scouts or not, this is your stage. You've practiced for this. You've bled for this. So get out there and show them who you are."
"Right!" Ran said, a fierce grin tugging at her lips.
"Let's blow the roof off this place," Nagisa added.
The idols began gathering their gear, tightening straps and checking microphones. Costumes shimmered under the light, reflections of color and courage. Marina stood at the center of it all, her chest rising with pride as the sound of preparation filled the air once more.
For her, this wasn't just another event—it was the culmination of every rejection, every moment she'd doubted herself, and every bit of faith Riku had placed in her.
And for them, it was the start of something far greater.