Yagokoro General Hospital – Eirin's Office
July 21, 2021 – Wednesday – 9:00 A.M.
Riku's POV
A day had passed since CiRCLE's second live—a show that broke every expectation and solidified its reputation as one of the best live houses in Tokyo. The euphoria from that night still lingered in the air, though the venue itself was now closed off and surrounded by the clamor of renovation crews. Marina called me in a panic right after we returned to the estate, worried sick about how to explain to the girls why CiRCLE was closing. I simply told her to tell them the truth. They deserved that much.
After that, I went straight to my room. The moment the door shut behind me, I dived into the SEKAI. Lately, I've been working to raise my authority level high enough to traverse the other SEKAI—and honestly, it's been addicting. My own SEKAI has become my personal creative sanctuary; being there lights a fire in me unlike anything else. Within three hours, I'd written four new songs.
Miku thought I'd lost my mind. She crossed her arms and frowned, "You wrote four songs in one sitting? What even goes on in your head?"
I just shrugged, grinning. "Whatever I feel at the moment, I write it down. That's all."
She muttered something about "humans being weird" before letting me go.
After that creative spree, I logged out of the SEKAI and fell asleep without realizing how tired I was.
When I woke up in the morning, Eli had already returned. Apparently, she, Kotori, and the rest of the μ's girls had a sleepover at Kotori's house. Kotori also had some juicy news to share—Aichi had finally confessed to both Honoka and Umi. According to her, he didn't hesitate or stumble; he just said everything that had been sitting on his chest. Umi didn't even have the heart to scold him. Both girls accepted, and he promised he'd take responsibility for making them happy. Typical Aichi—too honest for his own good. They were even planning their first date later today.
As for me, I wasn't as lucky. Before I went to bed last night, I got a call from Eirin-san asking me to visit her office this morning. Her tone had been calm but firm—serious enough that I couldn't brush it off. So now, here I am, walking through the sterile halls of Yagokoro General Hospital, following Udongein's lead.
The rabbit girl walked ahead of me, her long lavender hair bouncing slightly with each step.
"Well, we're here," she said, stopping in front of a mahogany door marked Dr. Eirin Yagokoro – Director. "I'll leave you and sensei alone."
"You're not coming in?" I asked, a bit surprised.
She shook her head. "Sensei gave me some rounds to handle. Nothing serious—just the usual patient checks. Good luck in there, Riku."
"Yeah, thanks."
She gave a small salute and walked off. I took a breath before slowly opening the office door.
The room smelled faintly of herbs and sterilized paper—a weirdly comforting blend that only Eirin-san could make feel so natural. The woman herself sat behind her desk, writing on a stack of reports. Her long silver hair glimmered under the morning light streaming through the blinds. When she looked up and saw me, she removed her glasses, setting them neatly beside her paperwork.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," she said.
"It's fine," I replied, stepping closer. "You sounded serious on the phone. I'm guessing this isn't just a routine check-up. You said to come alone, so this is about me, right?"
Eirin-san nodded slightly. "Yes. But I'd like Albion to hear this as well."
Right on cue, the familiar flash of blue light formed around my left arm. The Divine Dividing materialized, its soft wings of energy pulsing faintly. Albion's voice resonated, calm and clear as always.
[You mentioned that I am needed for this discussion, Doctor.]
"Yes," Eirin-san said. "This concerns Riku's condition—and more specifically, the changes happening within his body."
That immediately caught my attention. I straightened up. "Changes? You mean the assimilation thing you mentioned before?"
Eirin-san opened a drawer and retrieved a large envelope, sliding it across the desk toward me. "You remember when I took a blood sample from you after you first awakened the Divine Dividing?"
"Yeah. You said you'd run some private tests."
"I did," she said simply. "And these are the results."
I opened the envelope. The moment I scanned the report, my stomach dropped. My eyes widened, disbelief tightening my chest.
"Albion," I muttered, "you told me that the Divine Dividing was gradually assimilating into my body, right?"
[Yes. That's what I said.]
"Then explain," I said, my voice sharp, "why are my internal organs changing too?"
There was a brief pause. Even Albion seemed taken aback.
[...What?]
Eirin-san folded her hands on the desk. "As Riku said, his internal organs have changed. When I performed a full-body scan, I discovered that none of his organs resemble those of a human—or even a youkai—anymore. They've become draconic."
I blinked. "Wait. When did you even scan me?"
Eirin-san gave a small, guilty smile. "The night you overtrained with Tenshi. Yuyuko called me to check for any physiological abnormalities. You were asleep, so I ran a silent scan."
I let out a slow exhale, half amused. "That explains why I felt ticklish that night. I thought that was Fuyu messing around again."
Eirin-san chuckled softly. "No, that was me. And it seems the Divine Dividing is doing more than just bonding—it's rewriting your biology."
I looked down at my arm, the Sacred Gear faintly glowing. "Albion... any clue why this is happening?"
The silence in the room stretched for several seconds after I asked Albion for an explanation. Eirin-san watched quietly, her silver eyes studying me with the kind of calm that only doctors and immortals could manage. The faint hum of the machines filled the air before Albion's voice finally echoed from the Divine Dividing.
[I may have an answer.]
I straightened a little. "Let's hear it."
[Maybe, Riku, you are too compatible with the Divine Dividing.]
Eirin-san tilted her head, intrigued. "Too compatible?"
[Yes,] Albion continued, his tone measured but laced with something close to wonder. [Throughout the centuries, I have had many hosts—some meshed well with my power, others broke under it. Those who struggled did so because their bodies couldn't properly harmonize with my essence. Those who succeeded could wield parts of my strength, but never all of it. Yet among all my hosts, there have only ever been two capable of using my full power without resistance.]
I frowned. "And those two are...?"
[You,] he said without hesitation, [and the other is Vali Lucifer—the true wielder of the Divine Dividing in my original world.]
My eyes narrowed slightly. "Lucifer? Wait, hold on. You said Sacred Gears only appear in humans. That would mean he's..."
Eirin-san finished the thought. "A half-breed. Half-human, half-devil."
[Correct,] Albion confirmed. [Vali was born of a human mother and a devil father. His bloodline carried both adaptability and demonic potency. In that world, he became known as the strongest Hakuryuukou—the White Dragon Emperor. Power, instinct, and boundless energy. He was the perfect vessel for my power.]
He paused for a moment, then his tone softened, almost reverent. [At least, that was what I thought... until I met you, Riku. If Vali was the strongest, then you are the perfect Hakuryuukou. You share his courage and adaptability, but your bond with divine essence runs deeper. Being the vessel of the dragon god itself gave the Divine Dividing complete access to your soul. That is why it didn't just merge with your energy—it rewrote your entire body to match mine. Because of that, you can wield all of my abilities with no backlash.]
The words hung in the air like thunder after lightning.
Eirin-san leaned back slightly in her chair, arms crossed. "I see... that does explain the seamless integration. But tell me, Albion—what about drawbacks? Surely there are consequences to such a transformation."
Albion let out a low hum before answering. [Aside from the traits I already warned Riku about—his competitiveness and that hint of possessiveness—his physiology now shares several draconic weaknesses.]
Eirin raised a brow. "Such as?"
[He'll become sluggish during colder months and hyperactive in the summer. Dragons are creatures of heat and power; the cold dulls them. Also, weapons designed to slay dragons will now harm him more than they ever could before. His appetite will grow significantly, and—]
He hesitated for the briefest moment.
Eirin's lips twitched into a knowing smile. "Go on."
[—and his... reproductive instincts will heighten. A greater sex drive, to put it plainly.]
I ran a hand over my face. "Wonderful. A dragon metabolism and dragon hormones. No wonder I've been eating like a black hole lately. I'm afraid I might become Yuyuko-san in the future."
Eirin-san chuckled softly, though her expression stayed professional. "Well, at least you'll never skip breakfast again."
"Yeah," I muttered. "But the last part... I just hope Rinko and the others can handle that."
Eirin-san stifled another laugh behind her hand, her composure barely holding. "You'll have to exercise control, as with everything else. Dragons or not, self-discipline remains key."
"Right," I said dryly. "Control. Got it."
I looked back down at the vambrace, the pale light from the Divine Dividing reflecting faintly off Eirin-san's desk. "So aside from that list, anything else I should worry about?"
[I'm not certain whether this counts as a drawback or a blessing,] Albion said, [but your lifespan has... increased. Substantially.]
That caught both me and Eirin off guard.
Eirin-san leaned forward. "Increased? How much are we talking about? Normally, Riku's projected lifespan is about two hundred years—assuming he maintains his magic reserves."
Albion's voice deepened, filled with gravity.
[If Eirin's scans are correct and your organs have fully converted to a draconic state—healthy and stable—then you can live at least twenty thousand years.]
The room went silent. Even the hum of the air conditioner seemed to fade.
My mind went blank. Twenty thousand?
I felt my pulse thrum in my ears. That number wasn't just big—it was unfathomable. Twenty millennia of time, of watching centuries come and go. Everyone I knew—Rinko, Miyu, Marina, all of them—would be long gone before I even reached my halfway point.
Eirin-san must've noticed the sudden panic flicker in my expression because she stood and gently rested a hand on my shoulder. Her touch was light but grounding. When I met her gaze, she was smiling—a calm, timeless smile that somehow eased the tightness in my chest.
"Don't worry," she said softly. "You won't be alone. No matter how long you live, you'll always have us. Kaguya-sama, Mokou, and I have lived for over a thousand years already. What's another few thousand among friends?"
I exhaled slowly, my grip on the report easing.
She continued, her tone steady but warm. "And not just us. Yukari, Yuyuko, Okina... the others in Gensokyo won't fade anytime soon. Some of us endure. You'll have people—always."
I swallowed hard, trying to find my words. "I... I didn't realize how heavy immortality could sound until now."
Eirin-san's smile deepened, but there was a trace of melancholy behind it. "It is heavy. But it can also be beautiful. Longevity gives you the chance to create, to witness, to protect. Time can be both a burden and a gift. What matters is how you choose to carry it."
Albion hummed in quiet agreement. [She's right. Power and time are meaningless if you isolate yourself from those you cherish. Balance them, Riku. Let your strength guard what's precious—don't let it distance you.]
I nodded, letting the weight of both their words sink in. "Yeah... I guess that's something I'll have to learn. Thanks... I really needed that." I let out a quiet breath, my body finally relaxing after all the heavy revelations. "Guess I'll be bothering you and Kaguya in the near future then."
Eirin-san's lips curved into a soft, motherly smile. "You're welcome to. You're already like a son to me, Riku, so of course I'll do anything to help." She turned her gaze toward the vambrace on my arm. "Now then, Albion—about those abilities you mentioned earlier. Aside from the 'Divide' technique, what else is within your arsenal?"
The faint pulse of light from the Divine Dividing brightened as Albion's deep, resonant voice filled the room.
[Aside from Divide, there is another—Reflect. As the name implies, it allows you to deflect or return any attack that comes your way. Normally, I would teach this only after you attain your Balance Breaker. But since your body has already undergone such drastic transformation, I believe you're ready to learn it ahead of time.]
"Reflect, huh?" I mused, crossing my arms. "Sounds like a defensive counterpart to Divide. Could be useful in tight spots. I might need to run some countering drills for that one." I looked down at the vambrace, curiosity stirring. "Anything else?"
[Yes. Another ability known as Compress.] Albion's tone turned slightly proud, almost nostalgic. [It is derived from my experience with gravity-based magic. I can condense power and force into a single point, allowing you to crush energy, mass, or even space itself. However, this skill is rarely mastered. Most of my past hosts never reached beyond Reflect.]
Eirin glanced at me, impressed. "So, Riku and this... Vali Lucifer are the only ones capable of reaching it?"
[That's right.]
She nodded thoughtfully. "And after that?"
[After that, the next ability will depend entirely on Riku. It will unlock itself when he's ready—when his mind, body, and spirit align. It cannot be forced. Only earned.]
"So... a conditional one," I said, tapping a finger against my arm. "Fair enough. What about the last ability?"
The light within the vambrace dimmed slightly, and Albion's tone dropped into something darker—heavier.
[Juggernaut Drive.]
The room fell quiet. Even Eirin's calm expression shifted, her gaze sharpening with concern.
Judging from his tone, I already knew it wasn't something simple. "That name doesn't sound friendly."
Eirin-san folded her arms. "Judging by how he said it, I'm assuming it's dangerous."
[Very much so,] Albion answered, his voice low and deliberate. [Juggernaut Drive is the ultimate state of the Divine Dividing—where every limiter within the gear is released. In that state, the Hakuryuukou can kill gods.]
My eyes widened slightly. "That level of power... there's gotta be a price."
[Exactly.] Albion's tone was grave. [The Juggernaut Drive consumes an immense amount of energy—far beyond what ordinary beings can withstand. My previous hosts, the moment they activated it, lost all sense of self. They fell into madness, destroying everything in sight. Their life force burns rapidly, until their bodies and souls collapse.]
Eirin-san's face hardened. "So it's a suicide form."
[It doesn't end there,] Albion added. [When activated, the negative emotions and memories of the previous Hakuryuukou resonate with the user—rage, sorrow, obsession. Those thoughts corrupt the mind until reason is gone. That darkness is what killed most of them.]
The air felt colder for a moment. The reality of it sank in, heavy and suffocating. To think that such a technique could slay gods... but only by killing the user in the process.
Albion's voice softened slightly. [However, there is one exception. Because Riku's body has evolved beyond human limits—and because he possesses abundant magic as a half-youkai—he may be able to withstand the Juggernaut Drive for a short time. Perhaps half an hour, at most. The same goes for Vali Lucifer. His demonic heritage grants him extraordinary reserves of power that he channels into sustaining the form.]
He paused briefly before adding, almost offhandedly,
[And as for the negative thoughts—I once told you that the past possessors within you are the calmer kind. I wasn't exaggerating. One of them didn't even bother fighting my rival; he simply lived peacefully until the end of his days.]
Despite the heavy subject, that earned a faint smirk from me. "So the guy just... opted out of the eternal dragon rivalry? Can't say I blame him."
But the humor faded quickly. Juggernaut Drive wasn't a weapon—it was a gamble with death. Cutting off my lifespan just to win one battle... no matter how strong I'd become, that was nothing but a suicide dive.
Eirin-san must have read that thought because her voice was firm when she spoke next. "Riku, whatever you do, don't use the Juggernaut Drive."
"I know," I said quietly. "I already decided to set it aside. It's not worth throwing away my sanity or lifespan for power. Worst-case scenario, I'll keep it as a last resort—but that's it."
I met her gaze, then added, "Besides, Reflect and Compress already give me more options. If I master those, I won't even need Juggernaut Drive."
[A wise choice,] Albion said approvingly. [You're already strong enough not to depend on it. Keep refining your abilities. With enough discipline, you may even surpass Vali Lucifer himself—without ever invoking the Drive.]
Eirin-san chuckled softly, glancing between us. "That's quite an expectation you have for him."
[Expectation, yes. But also certainty.] Albion's tone brightened slightly, carrying a rare warmth. [Riku represents a new path for the Hakuryuukou. One unbound by past tragedies. He's only just begun.]
Eirin-san smiled at that—quiet pride showing beneath her calm demeanor. "Then I suppose I'll be here to see it through to the end." She turned back to me. "Riku, will you tell your fiancées about this? It might be better to explain it sooner rather than later."
I blinked. "Right... I almost forgot." I rubbed the back of my neck, chuckling weakly. "I'll tell them after the gathering. They'll kill me if I drop something like this on them last minute."
"Good." Eirin-san stood and walked to her medicine cabinet, pulling out a small glass bottle filled with pale blue pills. "Before you go, take these."
I caught the bottle she tossed my way, looking at it curiously. "What are these?"
"Nutritional pills I made specifically for Mafuyu," she explained. "She's been skipping meals again, hasn't she?"
I sighed. "Yeah... ever since her sense of taste started coming back, she's been eating anything she can find. Junk food's basically her best friend now."
Eirin-san chuckled. "Then these will help. One after breakfast each day. It'll balance her nutrition and regulate her mana levels."
"Got it. I'll make sure she takes them." I pocketed the bottle carefully. "Thanks, Eirin-san."
She nodded. "Take care, Riku—and do try not to overwork yourself. Even dragons need rest."
That earned a grin from me. "No promises."
Eirin-san laughed softly, shaking her head. "Go on, before I schedule you another examination."
I gave a polite bow, then turned toward the door. As I stepped into the hallway, the faint blue glow from the Divine Dividing began to fade, dissolving into light before vanishing entirely.
The air outside felt different—lighter, clearer. Maybe it was just the relief of walking away from another life-changing conversation.
But somewhere in that quiet moment, Albion's voice echoed faintly one last time.
[You're evolving well, Riku. Just remember—strength isn't only about power. It's also about restraint.]
"I'll keep that in mind," I murmured under my breath as I exited the hospital, sunlight spilling across the pavement.
One chapter of change had ended. Another was already waiting.
The morning sun had a gentle sharpness to it, warm enough to brighten the streets but not yet heavy with summer heat. The breeze carried the faint scent of grass and distant blossoms as I walked down the quiet road leading away from Yagokoro General Hospital. My head still hummed faintly from the talk with Eirin-san and Albion, their words about my nature and future echoing somewhere deep inside me. I hadn't gone far when two familiar figures appeared ahead—Mafuyu and Nazuna, walking side by side with matching tote bags in hand.
Mafuyu noticed me first and waved, her expression composed but faintly curious.
"Nii-san," she greeted as we stopped a few steps apart. "I take it your trip to the hospital went well?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Eirin-san and I just finished. What about you two? What brings you out here this early?"
Nazuna straightened, her tone respectful as always. "Oyakata-sama has given Mafuyu-sama her first assignment."
That caught my attention. "Grandfather did? Already?"
Mafuyu gave a small, almost nervous smile as she held out her phone. "He wanted me to go to this place."
I leaned over to check the screen—and blinked. The location pin sat right on top of the Nagae Farmer's Market, one of the family's oldest holdings. "The farmer's market? He's really sending you there, huh?"
Nazuna answered for her. "He wants Mafuyu-sama to gain firsthand experience in the Nagae family's work. It's part of his plan to broaden her understanding of the household's responsibilities."
Mafuyu tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "He said it's just an option. Something to explore in case I end up wanting a career outside of medicine."
I smiled faintly. "That's not a bad idea. Having more than one path gives you more freedom later on."
She nodded at that, though the corners of her mouth betrayed a faint tension. The kind she got whenever responsibility brushed too close to her comfort zone. I didn't press her about it. Instead, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small vial Eirin-san had given me earlier.
"Before you go," I said, handing it to her, "Eirin-san made these for you."
Mafuyu took the vial carefully, tilting her head. "What are they?"
"Nutrition pills," I explained. "Mafuyu, I know your sense of taste came back, but that doesn't mean you get to raid the snack aisles like a raccoon. These will keep your health balanced for the next month."
Nazuna gave a knowing sigh, hands folding neatly in front of her. "That would explain Mafuyu-sama's recent orders of instant noodles."
Mafuyu shot her a small glare, but it didn't last long. I chuckled quietly. "See? Even your attendant's complaining. Take them seriously, alright? Keep that up, you'll end up like Kanade. Nazuna, keep an eye on her meals."
Nazuna bowed lightly. "Of course, Riku-sama."
"Good. Now, get going. Wouldn't want you to be late for your first errand."
They both nodded. Mafuyu smiled—just a little this time—and the two of them continued down the street, chatting softly as they went. I watched them for a moment, an odd warmth stirring in my chest before I turned to continue my walk.
But that warmth cooled almost immediately when I caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye—three shadows tucked awkwardly into a nearby alleyway. I sighed, already knowing who they were.
"You can come out now," I called. "Kanade. Ena. Mizuki."
Three familiar heads popped out from behind the corner, each of them wearing oversized sunglasses and surgical masks like poorly disguised spies. And perched lazily on Kanade's shoulder was 25-ji's Miku, the melancholic variant whose dull, uneven grey pigtails reached all the way down to her knees. Her mismatched eyes—turquoise and pink—gave her the look of someone perpetually caught between dreams and reality.
Kanade froze. "R–Riku-san..."
I crossed my arms. "Mind explaining why you're hiding in an alley while following my sister?"
The three of them exchanged panicked glances, no one brave enough to answer. It was Miku who finally spoke, her voice flat but tinged with worry. "They're concerned about Mafuyu. This is her first time handling a responsibility from your grandfather, and they wanted to see how she would do."
I exhaled, pinching the bridge of my nose. "That's fine. Admirable, even. But stalking her from the shadows? You know she sensed you, right?"
Mizuki's head tilted, pink hair fluttering. "Wait... she knew we were hiding?"
I looked at them with a deadpan stare. "Oh, absolutely."
They fell silent, collectively realizing how pointless their little operation had been. Ena sighed, ripping off her mask. Kanade followed, muttering something about failed stealth missions, while Miku simply blinked at the sun.
"Alright," I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. "You're not sneaking after her anymore."
Kanade blinked. "Uh... what are you doing?"
"Getting you a ride."
I raised a hand and waved down a passing taxi. It screeched to a stop beside us, the driver leaning out the window. I opened the door, handed him a few bills, and spoke briefly. "Take these three to the Nagae Farmer's Market. Drop them off at the front gate. Keep the change."
Kanade blinked again, half-confused, half-guilty. Ena looked like she wanted to argue, but I cut her off with a small grin. "You were going to follow her anyway. Might as well do it properly and above ground this time."
Miku hovered forward, glancing at me. "You're letting them go?"
"Of course. Just... make sure Mafuyu doesn't catch you this time. She'll pretend she's not annoyed, but she'll give me the silent treatment later."
That earned the faintest chuckle from Mizuki. Kanade and Ena bowed quickly before getting into the taxi. The car pulled away moments later, its engine fading into the hum of midday traffic.
The street fell quiet again. For a brief moment, I stood there, staring at the space they'd just occupied. The mix of warmth and exhaustion from earlier crept back, a familiar reminder that no matter how chaotic things got, everyone around me—family, friends, allies—was learning and growing in their own ways.
Then my phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of the thought. I glanced at the screen. The message came from Pantasia—urgent and short. They wanted me there immediately.
I sighed, sliding the phone back into my jacket. "No rest for the dragon, huh?"
The sun was higher now, burning brighter as I set off down the road once more, the faint echo of laughter and engines behind me swallowed by the calm hum of the city's morning.
----------
Pantasia - Main Branch
11:00 A.M.
Riku's POV
The ride to Pantasia's main branch took longer than I'd hoped. I'd left the hospital not long after Eirin-san's appointment, only to find a message from Pantasia waiting—urgent, short, and with no room for delay. I would've taken my own car if I hadn't used Udongein's ATV to get there earlier, so a taxi had to do.
By the time the car pulled up in front of Pantasia's massive headquarters, the city sun was already high overhead. I stepped out, straightened my jacket, and took a breath before walking inside. The scent of freshly baked bread hit immediately—rich, warm, almost comforting in a way that wrapped around the senses like a soft blanket. Pantasia never failed in that regard.
The moment I entered, one of the staff spotted me and bowed slightly. "Nagae-sama, welcome. Kuroyanagi-san and Meister Kirisaki are waiting for you at the conference hall."
"Understood. Lead me the wa—" I stopped mid-sentence when my eyes caught something unusual by the display shelf near the entrance. "Wait. What's that?"
A neat stack of plain, round loaves sat under the glass case. No decoration. No elaborate toppings. Just bread—simple to the eye, yet something about its texture, the faint sheen on its crust, told me it wasn't ordinary.
The staff followed my gaze and smiled. "Ah, that's Ja-Pan #44, created by Azuma Kazuma. He won the recent Newcomer's Battle with it. Kuroyanagi-san said the taste was so divine, it 'sent him to heaven' with the first bite."
I blinked, taken aback. "Heaven, huh? For a loaf that plain-looking?"
"The simplicity's deceptive," the staff explained. "The texture and fermentation method are unlike anything we've seen."
I resisted the urge to grab one. Curiosity aside, there was a meeting waiting for me. "No wonder it's priced at eight hundred yen," I murmured, half amused, half impressed. "Alright then. Take me to the conference room before we waste more time."
The staff bowed again and guided me through the long corridors. The Pantasia main branch had the air of an institution built on pride—walls lined with framed photos from past tournaments, medals and certificates gleaming behind glass, and the faint, ever-present sound of ovens humming from distant kitchens.
When we reached the conference hall, the staff opened the heavy oak doors for me. Five men sat inside, and the room smelled faintly of fresh coffee and flour.
The first person to stand was a tanned young man with short black hair and sharp brown eyes. He wore the Pantasia head baker's uniform, the signature blue scarf at his neck marking his status. Ryou Kuroyanagi—the man was as energetic as he was dramatic, though he kept his tone measured around higher-ups.
Beside him sat a tall man with long blond hair, dressed immaculately in a white suit. His face was partially hidden behind a pristine white mask adorned with peacock feathers—Sylvan Kirisaki, the Meister himself, Pantasia's general manager and living legend.
Kuroyanagi grinned as I entered. "Riku! Took you long enough. Now we can finally start this meeting."
Sylvan gestured to the seat between them. "Please, take a seat."
I nodded and sat down, resting my hands on the polished table. "Alright, I got your message. What's the agenda today?"
Ryou leaned back, motioning to three figures sitting across from us. "I called you here to meet these three. They're Pantasia's brightest young talents."
I turned to examine them closely.
The first was a boy—young, barely out of his teens—with brown hair held back by a pink headband. He wore the standard Pantasia uniform, meaning he wasn't part of the main branch yet. Despite his youth, there was something steady in his eyes.
Next to him sat a man roughly my age. His head was completely shaved, gleaming under the fluorescent lights. His clean-cut appearance and confident posture suggested a man who didn't waste words—or shampoo.
The third stood out immediately. A tall, muscular man with black, spiky hair wrapped in a blue bandana. His presence was commanding, his gaze sharp like a drawn blade. The air around him felt different—measured, disciplined. The kind of aura that came from someone who lived by a code.
Sylvan broke the silence with his calm, measured tone. "Allow me to introduce them properly. Azuma Kazuma, Kawachi Kyosuke, and Suwabara Kai—the top three from the Newcomers Battle."
I took another look, this time with a more critical eye. There was confidence in how they held themselves, but more than that, there was potential. Something raw and unpolished, but promising.
"Hm," I murmured. "I can see it. The spark's there. But don't tell me you called me all the way here just to meet them?"
Sylvan's smile curved slightly under the mask. "Of course not. We need you to help us decide if they're ready to represent Japan at the Monaco Cup this fall."
The words landed like a thunderclap. Even Kuroyanagi's grin faltered slightly. Across the table, the two older bakers froze in shock, their expressions a mix of disbelief and excitement. The only one who looked genuinely confused was Azuma himself.
He tilted his head, brow furrowed. "Uh... Monaco Cup?"
Kawachi-san immediately turned toward him, eyes wide. "Are you serious, Azuma?! The Monaco Cup! The biggest international bread competition in the world!"
Suwabara-san crossed his arms, his voice calm but firm. "It's the proving ground for every world-class baker. Even for Pantasia, that's no small feat."
Azuma-san blinked, realization dawning slowly. "O-Oh! That Monaco Cup!"
Ryou sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're unbelievable sometimes."
I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath. "So that's the one who baked the Ja-Pan #44, huh?"
Ryou nodded. "Yeah. Don't let his goofiness fool you. He's a natural-born baker. His instincts are incredible—he makes breads no one else would think of."
Sylvan clasped his hands together, the movement graceful, deliberate. "We need to know if they have what it takes—not just in skill, but in spirit. The Monaco Cup demands both. And given your background, Riku, I believe you're the right one to evaluate them."
"Evaluate them?" I echoed, leaning back slightly.
"Yes," Sylvan continued. "Not as a mere judge, but as someone who understands the essence of creation. Bread, magic, art—it all begins from the same origin: the will to shape something greater than oneself."
I studied him for a moment, then looked back at the three candidates. Azuma-san's expression was a mix of excitement and confusion; Kawachi-san's, a blend of determination and competitiveness; Suwabara-san's, calm and resolute. Each of them carried a different flame.
Kawachi-san leaned forward with his elbows on the table, his thick Kansai accent slipping out. "Eto... I wanna ask, why us though? Ya could've just picked some vets from our branch to represent Japan."
Ryou groaned, rubbing his temple as if the question gave him a headache. "Don't be a fool, Kawachi. Even if we did that, the only thing we'd get is an early ticket back home from Monaco."
Sylvan chuckled softly behind his white mask. His voice carried a calm authority, the kind that made everyone in the room sit straighter without realizing it. "We chose you three for a reason. Kawachi-kun, your simplicity has impact — your bread carries flavor that resonates beyond presentation. Suwabara-kun, you challenge the very limits of bread itself. And Azuma-kun..." He turned his head slightly toward the brown-haired boy with the pink headband. "Your mind is quick. You innovate without hesitation, adapting on instinct. That is why we want you three to represent Japan."
Ryou crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips. "And that's also why we brought Nagae here — to judge if you're really qualified. He is the owner of Pantasia after all."
The words dropped like a thunderclap.
"EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?!"
Both Azuma-san and Kawachi-san nearly fell out of their chairs, while Suwabara-san's sharp eyes widened in visible surprise.
I let their reactions wash over the room for a moment before speaking, calm but firm. "Right. I haven't introduced myself properly. I'm Nagae Riku — heir to the Nagae family... and the owner of Pantasia."
Azuma-san stammered, pointing a shaky finger at me. "Y-you're the owner?! I thought Tsukino-san's family ran Pantasia?"
I nodded lightly. "The Azusagawa family are vassals of the Nagae. They manage Pantasia on my behalf."
Kawachi-san's jaw dropped, his accent thickening from shock. "How did ya become the owner anyway? Ain't ya a bit young for that?"
Suwabara-san's tone, on the other hand, carried respect — but also curiosity. "Indeed. To hold such authority at your age... I would like to know how that came to be."
Sylvan folded his hands in front of him. "It happened five years ago. When St. Pierre forced Pantasia into a corner, trying to buy out most of its assets, the company challenged them to a Shokugeki."
Azuma-san blinked. "Shokugeki?"
I met his gaze, smiling faintly. "It's a culinary duel — a tradition of Totsuki Academy. Two sides compete in cooking, each wagering something of value. The outcome decides who takes the prize."
Suwabara-san's brows furrowed. "And the judges? How can a duel like that remain fair? Bias can sway anything."
Ryou answered for me. "One of the cardinal rules is neutrality. All judges must be unbiased — if even one shows favoritism, the match is void."
Sylvan's tone softened, but his pride showed through. "And Riku here was Pantasia's representative. Not just because of his lineage, but because of his talent. A musician by profession, but a baker by instinct."
Their eyes widened again, though this time, not from disbelief — from genuine intrigue. I could feel Suwabara-san's spirit shift beside me; his posture straightened, and his presence sharpened like a drawn blade. He wanted to test himself against me.
I shrugged, letting a quiet laugh escape. "As much as I love baking, I've always leaned toward music. I'm already known for that, and it's... draining. Baking just helps me unwind. Keeps my head clear."
Azuma-san tilted his head. "Baking helps you relax?"
"Yeah." My tone dropped, honest and unguarded. "Being a professional musician isn't as glamorous as it looks. There's pressure, constant travel, no real rest. When I bake, I can breathe again — even for a while."
Suwabara-san nodded, his respect evident. "Understandable. Everyone needs an outlet. You found yours."
"Pretty much." I straightened my coat and pushed my chair back slightly. "Now then — since Meister and Ryou insisted I should judge you, how about showing me what you've got?"
The spark was instant. Suwabara-san rose from his seat, his bandana catching the light. "Challenge accepted. I'll show you the limits of bread firsthand."
Kawachi-san stood up next, pounding his fist into his palm. "Count me in! My bread might be simple, but it'll knock your socks off, Nagae-yan!"
Azuma-san's smile widened with confidence. "Then I'll show you the potential of Ja-Pan, Nagae-san!"
Their energy filled the room like a sudden gust of wind — young, eager, burning bright. I couldn't help but smile. "Excellent. Let's head to the kitchen, then. Meister, Ryou — you joining us?"
Sylvan chuckled, adjusting his mask. "I'd love to, but Sophie's arriving soon. She'd kill me if I made her wait."
Ryou checked his phone and let out a short laugh. "Kid just texted me. I promised to meet him after this."
I waved them off. "Understood. Go handle your business." Then, almost as an afterthought, I added, "Oh, and Meister — I got a message from Sanzaemon-dono. He wants Pantasia to host a stagiaire program."
Sylvan's eyes glinted behind the mask. "Do you have anything to do with this?"
I shook my head. "None. It surprised me too."
"Interesting," he mused, standing up. "I'll see what I can do."
Once they were gone, the room quieted, leaving me with the three bakers who would soon represent Japan.
I gestured toward the hallway. "Alright, let's move. I'll judge you personally — but don't expect me to go easy."
We made our way to the kitchen, the air shifting from polite formality to something more electric. When we arrived, the scent of yeast and flour already filled the air, waiting like an old friend.
I turned to face them. "Alright. I won't be harsh, but I want to see your first bread."
Kawachi-san blinked. "Our... first bread?"
"Yeah." I folded my arms. "The one that started it all. Before Pantasia. Before the competitions. I want to taste where you came from — your roots, your story."
They exchanged glances, expressions hardening into focus.
"The ingredients you need are all here," I continued. "You've got three hours. No winners, no losers — just my honest feedback. Understood?"
They nodded firmly.
I checked my watch. Another meeting loomed after this; I'd definitely be late. But somehow, I didn't mind. Watching this next generation light up with purpose reminded me why I fell in love with the craft in the first place.
"Then let's get to baking."
----------
Nagae Estate – 5:00 P.M.
Six hours had passed since I wrapped up the judging at Pantasia, and the thoughts still lingered like the scent of baked dough in a warm kitchen. Those three—Azuma-san, Kawachi-san, and Suwabara-san—honestly terrified me. Not in the sense of fear, but awe. They were young, barely beginning their journey, and yet the talent they carried felt limitless.
Suwabara-san and Kawachi-san were both twenty. Veterans by youth, maybe, but still early in their prime. Azuma-san, though... he was sixteen. Sixteen, and already producing bread on a level that would make half the Pantasia main branch sweat.
When Meister Kirisaki said Kawachi-san's work was simple yet powerful, he meant every word. The man baked a plain dinner loaf, the kind you'd overlook on a shelf—but the flavor struck like a perfectly tuned note. Honest, warm, confident. Suwabara-san's croissant was another story entirely; he'd broken through the natural limit of lamination layers, defying French tradition with a flavor so deep it lingered on the tongue like a melody refusing to end.
And then there was Azuma-san. The kid was a phenomenon. If he ever stepped foot in Totsuki Academy, I had no doubt he could stand toe-to-toe with Momo—hell, maybe even outshine her. He'd taken naan, the classic Indian bread, and somehow reimagined it into a distinctly Japanese version—soft, fragrant, humble, but alive with spirit. That kind of mind doesn't just make bread; it creates identity.
The real kicker, though? Kawachi-san and Suwabara-san had Solar Gauntlets. And Azuma-san has Solar Hands—like me and Momo. Three young bakers blessed by that same divine warmth. With them leading Japan's charge, I could already see it: Pantasia taking the Monaco Cup, not through luck or fame, but through sheer, blazing talent.
After giving each of them my feedback—and a few quiet pieces of advice I hoped would stick—I headed home.
By the time I arrived at the Nagae estate, the afternoon light had already turned golden. Inside the living room, I found familiar faces: Rinko, Miyu, Eli, Mafuyu, and Grandfather, all gathered around for their late afternoon tea.
Grandfather glanced up first, his voice steady as ever. "Welcome back, Riku. Tell me, why have you returned home at this hour?"
I rubbed the back of my neck, still carrying a faint trace of flour on my sleeve. "Sorry for the delay. I had an urgent meeting at Pantasia. Something to do with the Monaco Cup."
At the mention of it, his brows lifted slightly. The others—my fiancée, my sister, my cousin—looked between us in confusion.
Eli leaned forward, curiosity in her eyes. "Dear, what exactly is the Monaco Cup?"
Grandfather's tone deepened, the kind that carried weight. "It's a global baking tournament—held every three years. The best of the best gather to compete. If I recall, Pantasia has been struggling to break past the preliminaries in the last decade." His gaze narrowed toward me. "I take it you had a hand in choosing Japan's representatives?"
"They already made the selection," I replied, moving to sit across from him. "I was just asked to evaluate them. To see what they could do."
"And?"
I hesitated, then sighed. "They scare me."
Every head in the room turned. Even Mafuyu blinked at me, surprised.
Rinko frowned slightly. "You? Scared?"
"Yeah." I leaned back, resting an elbow on the armrest. "They're all close to my age—or younger. Suwabara-san and Kawachi-san are twenty who are near my age, and Azuma-san's just sixteen. And yet... they bake like they've lived three lifetimes already."
Eli tilted her head. "Sixteen? That young? What about his schooling?"
I shrugged. "I think he barely finished elementary. He's childish in some ways, but... his heart's pure. You can feel it when he talks about bread."
Grandfather's eyes softened a little, though his tone remained firm. "You sound as though you'd lose to them."
A faint smile tugged at my lips. "If I went up against Kawachi-san or Suwabara-san, I might win—but just barely. Against Azuma-san, though?" I exhaled quietly. "He'd wipe the floor with me."
Miyu's voice piped up, half disbelief, half curiosity. "Is he really that good?"
"Good doesn't even cover it." My tone carried a quiet respect. "That boy lives and breathes bread. His dream is to create Ja-Pan—a bread that symbolizes Japan itself. A dream most would laugh at, but the way he moves, the way he talks about it... he's already halfway there."
Grandfather nodded thoughtfully. "You're impressed. I can tell. I assume you're considering investing in him?"
I shook my head. "No need. He'll go far on his own. I've got Momo as my disciple already—and speaking of her, she overheard from Gin-san about my engagement."
That got everyone's attention.
Eli's expression brightened immediately, a soft smile curving her lips. "Oh? And?"
"She wants to make our wedding cakes," I said, trying not to laugh at how fast Eli sat up straight.
Eli clasped her hands together, her tone suddenly full of excitement. "Then can we make specific requests? I have ideas—"
"If she can manage them, I don't see why not." I chuckled lightly, then shifted the topic. "Anyway, are you and Eli-kun ready for tomorrow's press conference?"
Miyu blinked. "Eh? Press conference?"
Rinko looked just as lost. "Wait—what press conference?"
"Right," I said, realizing they hadn't been informed. "Tomorrow, there's going to be an official announcement—OG signing μ's and Peakey P-key under our label."
Rinko's jaw practically dropped. "That's what that was?! Why on earth would OG sign μ's?"
"You'll find out soon enough," I said with a small grin. "But for now, I'm heading to my room. And before anyone asks, no, I'm not eating dinner."
Rinko frowned slightly. "You okay?"
"Fine," I replied. "Just... ate too much bread. But save me a plate anyway, just in case I change my mind later."
Grandfather nodded approvingly. "Go and rest, then. You and Eli have a full schedule tomorrow."
"Understood." I rose from the couch, stretching a little as I made for the hallway. "If you need me, you know where to find me."
As I pushed open my bedroom door, expecting quiet... I was instead greeted by the sight of two very familiar faces sitting comfortably on my couch—Aya and Hatate.
I raised an eyebrow. "What are you two doing in my room?"
Aya, unfazed, held up her tablet. "We've got something you'll want to see. It's about the Pro Band Circuit."
I motioned for her to hand it over. As I scrolled through the document, the report unfolded like a slow, ugly revelation. My expression hardened with each paragraph.
Match-fixing. Bribery. Deliberate losses. Five out of eight Division 2 bands from the Chinese PBC were involved. The weight of it pressed into my chest.
"To think it came down to this..." I muttered, setting the tablet on my desk. "This isn't just a scandal. It's a goddamn implosion. The Chinese PBC won't recover from something like this."
Hatate folded her arms, her tone grim. "It's worse than you think. According to my sources, the Chinese Pro Band Circuit's going to be dissolved right after TI11. The board's planning to replace it—with Japan."
I leaned back on my recliner, exhaling through my nose. The ceiling fan hummed quietly, the sound filling the long silence that followed.
Aya studied me. "Are you okay, Riku?"
I gave her a tired look. "If what you say next is more bad news, then no. I'm not."
Aya hesitated, as if weighing whether to continue. "Then you're not going to like this either." She drew a breath. "Nagae Shinichi has been found."
The words hit like a punch. I straightened in my seat, disbelief flickering across my face. "Shinichi? He's been found?"
Hatate nodded. "The branch family finally tracked him down after seven years of hiding. But... he's not in the best condition."
For a long moment, I didn't speak. Nagae Shinichi—the one branch family member who refused to toe their line. Unlike the others who saw the main family as enemies, he'd always stood by us. He and his mother, Sayori, were the exceptions. The only ones who remembered what loyalty looked like.
He'd defied the branch too many times to count, shielding us when the rest of his kin sought to undermine the main bloodline. Eventually, the pressure became too much. Accusations, threats, exile. He vanished into the shadows with Sayori at his side—until now.
"What about his mother?" I asked, my voice low. "Sayori. Has she been found too?"
Aya shook her head. "No. She escaped. Shinichi stayed behind to act as a decoy. Nobody knows where she went."
That was just like him. Reckless, selfless, loyal to a fault.
I stood from my chair, pacing for a moment before stopping near the window. "Then listen carefully. I want both of you to find her. Bring Nagae Sayori here—alive and unharmed. If we can protect her, the branch family loses any leverage they have over Shinichi."
Aya blinked. "You're serious? That's not going to be easy. We'll need the entire tengu network for something that wide-scale."
Hatate adjusted her glasses. "And that's going to cost a fortune. You sure you want to go through with this?"
"How much?" I asked flatly.
They exchanged a glance, then both pulled out their phones, scrolling through what looked like a private operations board. Hatate's eyes flicked over the screen before she spoke. "Base rate's about two hundred thousand dollars. More if the target's high-profile."
Aya added, "And since we're talking about a Nagae, that bumps it up to... at least two and a half million."
"Done."
Both of them froze, looking at me as if I'd just agreed to buy a small country.
"Eh? Just like that?" they said in unison.
I met their stunned looks with a calm, steady tone. "Money's not the issue. I can burn a few million if it means saving one of our own. I'll make it back soon enough. I'll wire the payment later—just move fast. The gathering's coming up, and I want Sayori safe before then. And don't get spotted."
Aya's grin returned, fierce and mischievous. "You got it. We'll move tonight."
Hatate sighed, half-amused. "You really don't hesitate, do you?"
"Not when it comes to family," I said simply.
They nodded, saluted, and disappeared into the night, the faint rustle of wings fading down the hallway.
Silence settled again. I exhaled, rubbing at my temples. A moment later, my phone buzzed with a new message.
Johan: I'm in Japan. Checked into the hotel.
I allowed myself a small smile. Another ally in place. Pieces were starting to align.
But before I could reply, another notification popped up—Alice. I opened her message, and what filled my screen made me pause.
Attached was a photo—a prototype costume for μ's after they'd been officially accepted into OG. The design was unmistakably Alice's: sharp, bold, and unapologetically elegant.
Honoka's outfit was the first on display. A vibrant pink dress accented with sleek black stripes and delicate trim around the bodice. A matching black bow tied neatly at her chest, while the skirt bloomed in layers—a scalloped pink top, black frills beneath, and a soft pink base that caught the light beautifully.
Flowing panels trailed from her sides, giving the whole piece a regal, dynamic feel. The sleeves were sheer and puffy, paired with white gloves that ended in pink bows. White thigh-high stockings met black shoes detailed with pink highlights, and atop her orange-brown hair sat a tilted black hat and a flower clip, both playful and graceful.
The finishing touches were pure Alice: the OG emblem stitched proudly on the right breast, and Honoka's personal insignia—the character "ほ"—on the left. But at the back of the costume gleamed something unexpected: a golden chrysanthemum, the Imperial Seal of Japan.
I stared at it for a long moment. A bold choice. The chrysanthemum wasn't just decoration—it was a statement. A connection between music, identity, and something much older.
A quiet chuckle escaped me. "Alice really went bonkers for this one."
I leaned back in my chair, letting the glow of the screen wash over the room. The air felt still—like the brief calm before a storm you could already sense on the horizon.
"Not bad," I murmured. "Not bad at all."
Outside, the wind stirred through the trees, carrying whispers of what was to come. Plans were forming. Allies were moving. And soon enough, the next chapter of this game would begin.
----------
July 22, 2021 – Thursday – 10:00 A.M.
Nagae Estate
Third POV
The morning light poured through the high windows of the Nagae estate, scattering across the marble floor like gold dust. Today was the day—the long-awaited press conference. Riku had been up early, running through final preparations, when Johan's call came through. The message was short and direct: be ready.
By the time the line went dead, Riku was already moving. He'd told Eli and the rest of μ's, along with Aichi, Peakey P-key, and Keigo, to have an early lunch. There was no telling how long the conference might run, and he didn't want anyone fainting on stage. He also reminded them to bring their costumes. When the girls asked why, his only answer had been, "Formality. You'll see."
Now, as the clock struck ten, the heir of the Nagae family stepped into the garage beside Eli. Both were dressed to perfection—Riku in a sharp, dark suit that matched his calm, steady demeanor, and Eli in a crisp white blazer over a pastel dress that exuded quiet confidence. The car—a sleek black sedan with tinted glass—waited for them, humming softly like it knew the weight of the day ahead.
Kyoya, Rinko, and Miyu stood at the edge of the driveway, watching them go.
"Good luck on the press conference, my boy," Kyoya said, his voice filled with that mix of pride and paternal gravity that always followed him.
Riku smirked lightly as he adjusted his scarf. "Honestly, I'm kinda nervous. This is my first time doing a full-blown press conference."
Kyoya chuckled. "Then it's about time. You'll have plenty of those once you inherit the family mantle. Consider this practice."
"Noted," Riku said. "By the way, it's being broadcast live on TV Tokyo. You can tune in if you want to see the chaos unfold."
Rinko perked up. "Really? Then I'm inviting Yukina-san and the others over to watch!"
Miyu raised a hand. "Me too! I'll call Haruna-chan and the others."
"They're more than welcome," Riku said, opening the car door. "Alright, we'll head out. Wish us luck."
"Stay safe," Miyu said softly. "And... don't forget to breathe."
He gave a small nod before slipping into the driver's seat. Eli followed, and with a low purr, the car eased out of the driveway.
Halfway through the drive, the car's dashboard tablet lit up. Aichi's face appeared on screen, framed by the backseat of a van filled with cheerful chaos—μ's girls laughing and adjusting their costumes in the background.
Riku tapped the display. "Yo, Aichi. Where are you now?"
"On our way to the studio," Aichi replied, a calm smile on his face. "What about you?"
"Same. We just left the estate."
Eli leaned in slightly. "Are the girls ready?"
"I think they are," Aichi said, glancing back at the group behind him. Honoka was practicing her introduction lines, Kotori was fixing Umi's sleeve, and Nico was loudly reminding everyone that she should be in the center.
Riku chuckled quietly. "Then I'll see you all there."
The call ended, and silence returned to the cabin—only the faint hum of the road beneath them remained. Riku's expression softened, eyes steady on the horizon.
They arrived at the TV Tokyo studio just as the sun reached its peak. The parking lot was already buzzing with activity—media trucks, camera crews, and assistants darting around like ants. Almost perfectly timed, Aichi and μ's arrived from the opposite side.
"Well," Aichi said with a small grin, stepping out of his van, "looks like we're synced again."
Before Riku could reply, another familiar voice called out.
"Not just you."
Turning toward the sound, they saw Keigo approaching, flanked by the members of Peakey P-key. Kyoko adjusted her sunglasses while Shinobu waved lazily from behind her cap.
Riku smiled faintly. "Keigo. You guys ready?"
Keigo gave a confident nod. "Yeah. Me and the Peakeys are all set."
"Good. You brought your costumes like I told you, right?"
Kyoko patted the garment bag slung over her shoulder. "Right here."
Shinobu crossed her arms. "Riku, tell me—did you cash in another one of your favors to pull this off?"
Riku chuckled, shaking his head. "Not this time. Minene-san's the one who called in a favor. I just followed through."
"Minene?" Keigo raised an eyebrow. "Figures. She always has her hands in something."
"Come on," Riku said, motioning toward the entrance. "Let's not keep the press waiting."
Inside, the studio was a maze of sound checks and camera rigs. Assistants moved briskly through the halls, guiding the artists to their respective dressing rooms. One of the producers explained that the men and women would be split for wardrobe prep.
Riku, Aichi, and Keigo were ushered toward the men's room. When they stepped inside, a familiar voice greeted them in accented Dutch.
"Yo. Took your sweet fucking time, you damn brat."
Riku's brow twitched. "We didn't, you're just too fucking early, old man."
Leaning back in his chair was Johan, already half-dressed in his performance gear, smirking like a man who enjoyed lighting fires just to watch them burn.
"The hell you say to me?" Johan shot back. "I'm twenty-seven, not ancient. And look at you—about to hit twenty, and your girlfriends are still in high school. Should I call the cops or what?"
Eli wasn't around to hear that, but Aichi and Keigo froze mid-step, unsure whether to intervene. Riku's eyes narrowed with mock irritation.
"Oh, that's how you wanna play it?" he said, rolling his shoulders. "Fine. We'll settle this the OG way."
Johan stood, cracking his knuckles dramatically. The tension in the room snapped tight like a drawn bowstring—until Aichi quickly stepped in between them, arms out.
"Whoa, whoa! There's no reason to fight!"
Keigo joined him, looking exasperated. "Seriously, guys. Can we not start a war before the cameras even roll?"
Then came the low chuckle. Johan grinned first, followed by Riku. The two burst out laughing, the mock hostility melting away in seconds. Aichi and Keigo stared, realization dawning.
"You two were messing around?!" Keigo groaned.
"Relax," Riku said, still smirking. "We won't do anything stupid."
Johan shrugged, stretching his arms. "We just talk shit sometimes. Keeps the blood warm. At the end of the day, he's still my brother." He glanced at Riku. "Now hurry up and get changed. You brought your gear, right?"
Riku held up a sleek black briefcase. "Of course."
As he undid his cuffs and shrugged off his jacket, the room quieted again. Keigo and Aichi exchanged a look, then followed suit, pulling their own costume bags from the rack. The air buzzed with a mix of nerves and excitement—like the silence before the curtain rises.
The press conference was minutes away, and soon, the world would be watching.
Several minutes later.....
TV Tokyo – Conference Room
11:30 A.M.
The atmosphere inside the TV Tokyo conference room was charged with energy—anticipation humming through the air like static before a storm. Rows of cameras stood poised, lenses glinting beneath the white ceiling lights. Reporters from across Japan filled the seats, their murmurs weaving a low symphony of speculation. Among them sat representatives from the world's largest media outlets—BBC, CNN, and countless others—each drawn here for one reason: OG, one of the world's most influential music organizations, had chosen Japan as the stage for their newest revelation.
The media presence was overwhelming, yet meticulously curated. Every journalist who made it through the door had passed multiple layers of background checks, a security measure enforced by Riku himself. He had made one thing clear—no tabloid scavengers, no irrelevant questions, no chaos. Only professionals who understood the gravity of what was about to unfold. TV Tokyo honored that request, tightening their screening process until only the most trusted and credible remained.
The stage was set in three tiers of rising height, built more like a visual statement than a simple platform. Seventeen stools gleamed under the stage lights—four on the ground level, six on the middle (split four on the right and two on the left), and seven more at the top, five on the right and two on the left. The symmetry spoke of order, of balance, of something deliberately monumental.
Behind the curtains, Riku and the others waited for their cue. Security staff ran their final checks, metal detectors humming softly as they verified that no one carried anything questionable. Not that anyone did—but Riku's insistence on precision meant no room for assumption. Each of them held a wireless mic clipped to their attire, a faint buzz signaling they were all live and connected. The faint thrum of the crowd outside reached them even through the thick drapery.
Then Minene Kurobane stepped forward, her posture straight and voice steady as she faced the ocean of cameras.
"Good morning, everyone—and to those watching across the world, welcome. Today marks a special occasion. One of the most iconic music franchises in global entertainment history has come to Japan—not just to announce a new project, but to welcome new members into their family. This franchise has shaped legends across every continent. Names like Miracle, fly, MoonMeander, Topson, and of course, Japan's own Iku. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the founder of OG, Johan Sundstein."
Her words dropped like a match into dry kindling. The moment the staff signaled, Johan strode out onto the stage. Cameras erupted in a barrage of flashing light, illuminating him in bursts of silver and white. His presence filled the room—not loud or showy, but firm and commanding. Dressed in a sleek, dark-gray suit with a navy tie, Johan looked every bit the titan the world knew him as.
He gave Minene a brief nod before taking the microphone, his tone rich and fluent in Japanese, surprising some of the reporters.
"Thank you, Ms. Kurobane," he began, his voice even but edged with warmth. "My name is Johan Sundstein—though most of you may know me better as n0tail. I am the founder and Chief Operating Officer of OG. It's an honor to stand here in Japan today."
He paused, allowing the photographers a moment to settle. Then a faint grin tugged at his lips.
"And I'm not here alone. Beside me is someone many of you already know—a man who has represented Japan with pride, and my partner for this conference. My brother in arms... Iku."
The name drew a ripple through the room. Every lens turned sharply toward the curtains as Riku—stage name Iku—appeared.
He walked calmly but with a quiet authority that made even the most seasoned reporters lower their chatter. His black suit was modern but tailored, his posture composed, the faintest glint of confidence in his eyes. As he reached the stage, camera flashes burst once more, chasing his every step. Taking his seat beside Johan, he lifted the mic.
"Thank you, n0tail." His voice carried effortlessly across the room—smooth, grounded, but commanding. "I'm Nagae Riku—though most of you know me as Iku. As Johan mentioned, I'm also one of the co-owners of OG. Today, we're here to welcome the newest additions to the OG family."
He leaned slightly forward, his gaze scanning the press.
"You're probably wondering why this conference was announced so suddenly. The answer's simple—we've reached a turning point. Our DJ division, which has been holding strong since last year, faced some changes recently. A few of our key talents decided to seek out new paths. So, together with Ceb and Johan, I started looking for a fresh roster—a team that could carry the legacy forward."
Riku glanced briefly at Johan, who nodded for him to continue.
"And after weeks of careful consideration and scouting, I can confidently say that OG's DJ division has a new face, and a new heartbeat. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the new DJ roster for OG."
The lighting shifted as the stage doors opened. Keigo and the members of Peakey P-key emerged, walking with poise and confidence that matched the rising energy of the crowd. Their outfits reflected their distinct personalities but shared the same underlying motif—sleek black and silver designs accented with neon lines that glimmered faintly under the lights.
Keigo was first to take his place beside Riku, calm yet unmistakably proud. Shinobu and Kyoko stood behind him, mirrored by Yuka and Esora a level higher.
The cameras clicked furiously as the world recorded the moment.
Then Johan stepped in again, his tone lighter, teasing the audience with a trace of his characteristic humor.
"And for the next announcement..." He gave Riku a sideways look. "I'll admit, this one wasn't originally part of the plan. Iku here decided to take matters into his own hands—and since he did, well, I couldn't say no. So we're rolling with it."
A few reporters chuckled softly. Johan smiled, then his voice grew sincere.
"Today, OG is also proud to announce its very first idol group. Normally, we'd look for individual talents and hope to forge chemistry later. But Iku had a different idea—he brought us a group that already has something rare: unity. We're taking a gamble, but one we believe will pay off. So... let me introduce to you, OG's new idol group—μ's."
A stir swept through the room as nine familiar faces stepped onto the stage, led by Aichi. Dressed elegantly in coordinated colors of white and gold, they radiated the kind of brilliance only natural performers could carry.
Aichi took his seat beside Johan, composed and poised despite the flood of attention. Behind him, Honoka, Kotori, Umi, and Eli took their positions with polished grace, while Maki, Hanayo, Rin, Nozomi, and Nico stood just behind, their smiles warm but proud.
The sight of the group—the embodiment of passion, teamwork, and artistry—brought a hush over the audience. The weight of what was happening began to settle in: OG wasn't just expanding. It was evolving.
For years, OG had stood as a global music empire known for talent, innovation, and audacity. But with this single moment, it was clear—the organization was entering a new era. A fusion of worlds: DJs and idols, international icons and Japanese stars, tradition and modern fire.
The press room pulsed with excitement, flashes erupting once again as Johan leaned forward to close the first half of the conference.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said with a grin, "welcome to the next chapter of OG."
The applause came fast and loud, echoing through the hall.
Behind that applause, Riku's eyes caught Johan's—and for a brief moment, they shared a silent exchange. The work wasn't done. This was only the beginning.
The moment the applause from Johan's speech faded, Riku rose slightly from his seat, the microphone poised between his fingers. His voice carried smoothly through the room, calm yet confident.
"Before we get to the questions," he began, "I'd like the rest to introduce themselves."
He glanced toward Keigo, who adjusted his jacket and gave a quick grin before taking the cue.
"I think I'll start first," Keigo said, tapping his mic lightly. "My name is Horikawa Keigo, and I'm the manager of Peakey P-key. And, uh..." He looked toward Riku, lowering the mic. "Should I introduce the girls on their behalf?"
Riku gave a short nod, and the Peakeys mirrored it in agreement.
"Alright then," Keigo continued, turning to the press with the kind of ease only a performer could pull off. "Behind me are the members of Peakey P-key. The leader and vocalist, Yamate Kyoko."
Kyoko tipped her cap slightly and gave a modest wave, the sharp lines of her smirk softened by the flash of cameras.
"Our group's DJ, Inuyose Shinobu," Keigo went on.
Shinobu popped her bubble gum with a faint snap that caught several mics; the sound drew a few quiet laughs from the press pool.
"Next, our VJ, Sasago 'Jennifer' Yuka."
Yuka leaned forward, flashing a playful double peace sign.
"And lastly," Keigo said with a grin, "Shimizu Esora—our choreographer and backup vocalist."
Esora shot the reporters a wink, hands on her hips with the self-assured flair of someone born for the stage.
The cameras loved every second of it—each flash punctuating their energy. Then Keigo handed the focus to the group seated beside them.
"Well, since Keigo's introduction is done," Aichi began, straightening his tie, "I think it's our turn."
He smiled at the gathered press, his tone even and professional. "Hello, everyone. I'm Hinanawi Aichi, the manager of the idol group μ's. In our group, there are no designated centers—we believe in sharing the same spotlight equally. And while nine members might seem like a lot, we've found that every girl brings her own brilliance to the stage."
He turned slightly, gesturing to the line of young women seated behind him. "Let me introduce them. First up, our freshmen: Koizumi Hanayo, Hoshizora Rin, and Nishikino Maki."
Hanayo gave a shy wave, cheeks dusted pink as she ducked her head. Rin threw a confident thumbs-up, her energy lighting up the moment, while Maki simply twirled a strand of hair around her finger, pretending indifference but unable to hide the faint smile tugging at her lips.
Aichi continued, "Then we have the sophomores—Kosaka Honoka, Minami Kotori, and Sonoda Umi."
The trio stood in unison and gave a polite bow, the movement clean and graceful. Honoka's bright grin made her stand out immediately, her boundless enthusiasm shining even offstage.
"And lastly, the seniors," Aichi said. "Tōjō Nozomi, Yazawa Nico, and Ayase Eli."
Nozomi waved gently, the same teasing serenity she was known for showing through, while Nico struck a practiced pose and Eli nodded elegantly beside her, the light catching the icy blue of her eyes.
The hall filled with flashes again—each camera hungry to capture every gesture, every fleeting smile.
As Aichi finished, he turned to Johan, who took the microphone back with an approving nod.
"Since OG's founding back in late 2015," Johan began, his tone firm and measured, "we've built everything on three principles: loyalty, friendship, and the drive to be the best."
His gaze swept over the crowd of reporters, the faint smile in his eyes carrying the quiet authority of a man who'd lived through every victory and setback.
"Over the past years, we've proven that those values work. We don't follow trends—we make our own. We do things our way. That's how OG became what it is today: seven Future World Fes championships, three International titles, and a reputation we're proud of."
He paused, letting the weight of that record sink in before continuing, his voice softening just enough to reveal sincerity behind the bravado.
"We've had our share of ups and downs, but through all of it, we stood united. And that unity brought us here—to this moment, where we take the next step in OG's future. What we built in the pro band scene, we want to reflect—no, expand—into our DJ and idol divisions. Even if we achieve a fraction of what we've done before, it'll be worth every ounce of effort."
Then, with a brief glance toward Riku, Johan gestured the mic toward him. "Iku, you take the floor."
Riku nodded once and rose, his expression calm but edged with focus. The hum of cameras softened, anticipation thickening the air.
"Well," he said, tapping the mic gently, "if you all have your questions ready, let's do this in an orderly fashion."
That single sentence was enough to ignite the room. Hands shot up in every direction—reporters from Tokyo, Osaka, Seoul, New York, and beyond. Every journalist seemed to have a dozen questions ready, voices overlapping as the staff tried to maintain order.
Riku exchanged a small glance with Johan and Keigo—half amusement, half disbelief.
The press conference had officially entered its storm phase.
The first few questions came rapid-fire—journalists asking about OG's new direction, the challenges of expanding into idol culture, and how Riku managed to balance co-ownership with his ongoing commitments. Others turned to Johan, inquiring about OG's global partnerships and whether the Japanese branch would operate independently or under headquarters in Portugal.
But amidst the clamor, there was an undeniable sense of awe. Everyone in that room understood they were witnessing a shift in the music landscape.
Behind the main speakers, the girls of μ's and the members of Peakey P-key sat poised and alert. Honoka whispered something to Kotori that made her giggle softly. Shinobu leaned lazily against her seat, blowing another bubble. Even Johan cracked a grin at the chaos, leaning toward Riku.
"You wanted to experience a press conference firsthand," he murmured, barely audible beneath the noise. "How's that working out for you?"
Riku exhaled through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Louder than I expected," he muttered back.
The reporters kept their hands raised, questions tumbling one after another. And though it was just the beginning of the Q&A, Riku could already tell—this wasn't just another publicity event.
This was the moment OG's new era began in earnest.
And from the fire in his eyes, he was more than ready for it.