The rain had started sometime after sunset.
By the time the streets emptied, it had turned steady and quiet, the kind that softened every sound in the city. Neon lights reflected across the wet pavement, stretching into long colors beneath passing cars.
Riku Hayama stood near a vending machine across the street.
He had been there for almost twenty minutes.
The machine hummed faintly behind him while a small paper cup of canned coffee warmed his hands. He hadn't taken a sip yet.
Across the road stood a tall glass building, its windows glowing softly against the dark sky.
Hoshizora Entertainment.
One of the most famous talent agencies in the country.
Actors, singers, idols—many of the biggest names in entertainment had started there.
To most people, the building looked impressive.
To Riku, it looked quiet.
Too quiet for a place that was supposed to be alive with music and cameras.
He checked the time on his phone.
10:41 PM.
Late enough that most employees should have gone home already.
But the lights on the upper floors were still on.
Riku leaned slightly against the vending machine and watched the windows. A few silhouettes moved behind the glass from time to time, disappearing and returning like shadows.
A black car slowly passed behind him, tires hissing against the wet road.
The city felt distant tonight.
Riku finally opened the can of coffee with a soft click.
Warm steam escaped into the cool night air.
He raised it halfway to his lips—
Then stopped.
A sound drifted down from above.
At first it was faint.
Almost like someone shouting in another room.
Riku lowered the can and looked up.
The rain blurred the windows of the building, turning them into shining squares of light.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then suddenly—
A scream cut through the night.
It came from high above.
Riku's eyes followed the sound instinctively.
Something moved.
A dark shape separated from the edge of the building.
It fell fast.
Too fast.
The body hit the pavement several meters away with a dull, heavy sound.
The noise echoed against the empty street.
For a few seconds, the world seemed to pause.
Even the rain felt quieter.
Riku didn't move.
The coffee can remained in his hand.
Lights inside the building flickered on one after another. People began rushing toward the entrance, their voices confused and sharp.
A security guard ran outside first.
Then another employee.
Someone shouted to call an ambulance.
Within minutes, more people gathered near the body, speaking in low, frightened voices.
Riku remained where he was.
From this distance, he couldn't see the victim clearly.
But he could hear the word spreading between the small group of employees.
"Suicide…"
"That's terrible…"
"It must have happened on the rooftop."
Riku finally took a slow sip of his coffee.
The bitterness settled on his tongue.
His eyes moved upward again.
Back to the upper floors of the building.
For a brief moment—just before the scream—
he had noticed something.
A second figure near the edge.
Only a silhouette.
Standing behind the victim.
Watching.
The rain continued to fall as quietly as before.
Riku exhaled slowly.
"No," he murmured to himself.
"That wasn't suicide."
Five years later.
Camera flashes burst repeatedly outside the studio entrance.
"Riku! Over here!"
"Look this way!"
"Just one photo!"
A small crowd of reporters had gathered near the gate, their cameras raised as a young man stepped out of a black van.
Riku Hayama smiled easily as he waved toward them.
His posture looked relaxed, almost casual, as if he had grown used to this kind of attention.
Which, in truth, he had.
A reporter called out loudly.
"Riku, how does it feel being nominated for Rising Talent this year?"
Riku scratched the back of his head lightly.
"Honestly? I thought they made a mistake."
Laughter spread among the reporters.
Another voice asked, "Do you think you'll win?"
Riku shrugged.
"If the other actors forget their lines, maybe."
More laughter.
The atmosphere became lighter.
Fans behind the barrier cheered when he waved again before entering the studio building.
The door closed behind him, shutting out the noise of cameras and voices.
Inside, the hallway was quiet.
Riku's smile faded almost immediately.
Not completely.
Just enough that the warmth in it disappeared.
He walked down the corridor calmly, hands in his pockets.
Five years had passed since the night outside Hoshizora Entertainment.
Five years since the fall.
And during those five years, Riku had made a decision.
If the truth was hidden inside the entertainment industry…
then that was where he would go.
Step by step.
Role by role.
Closer to the people who had been inside that building that night.
Studio Hall B was already busy when he arrived.
Staff members moved between equipment and lighting stands while several actors sat around a long table filled with scripts.
Riku quietly took an empty seat near the middle.
The director stood at the front, flipping through pages with a tired expression.
"This scene still doesn't feel right," he said.
"We've rewritten it twice already."
One of the actors sighed.
Another leaned back in his chair.
A young assistant tried to explain something about the dialogue structure but quickly became nervous under the director's stare.
The room gradually fell into uncomfortable silence.
Near the end of the table sat a girl who had not spoken once since the meeting began.
Her name was Mira Aizawa.
She sat slightly hunched over her script, dark hair falling forward enough to hide part of her face.
Anyone glancing at her briefly might assume she was simply shy.
Or trying not to attract attention.
Riku noticed her after a few minutes.
Not because she spoke.
But because she seemed to be carefully reading every line while the others had already given up.
The director sighed again and rubbed his temple.
"If we can't fix this scene, we'll cut it completely."
That was when Mira quietly raised her hand.
It was such a small movement that several people didn't notice at first.
"Um… excuse me."
Her voice was soft.
Almost uncertain.
The director looked toward her.
"Yes?"
Mira hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"I think… the problem isn't the dialogue."
Several actors glanced at her with mild curiosity.
The director crossed his arms.
"Then what is it?"
She carefully turned a page in the script.
"The confession happens too early," she said.
"If it moved to the end of the scene… the tension might build more naturally."
The director frowned slightly and looked down at the pages again.
He read the scene silently for several seconds.
Then he grabbed a pen.
"Wait."
He quickly adjusted several lines and handed the script to the actors.
"Let's try it this way."
The actors read the scene again.
This time, the emotional moment landed differently.
Stronger.
More natural.
The director leaned back in his chair.
"Well… that works."
Several people at the table looked surprised.
Mira quickly lowered her gaze again as if she hadn't expected anyone to pay attention.
Across the table, Riku studied her quietly.
Interesting.
Most people wouldn't notice a pacing problem like that so quickly.
Especially someone who barely spoke.
When the meeting ended, people began gathering their scripts and leaving the room.
Riku remained seated for a moment.
He flipped casually through the pages.
Then one scene caught his attention.
A rooftop.
Rain.
A character falling from a tall building late at night.
The description was simple, but the details felt strangely familiar.
Too familiar.
Riku slowly closed the script.
When he looked up again, Mira was standing nearby organizing a stack of papers.
He stood and walked toward her.
His footsteps were light enough that she didn't notice until he spoke.
"Your idea earlier helped the scene a lot."
Mira startled slightly before looking up.
"O-oh… thank you."
Riku held up the script.
"Can I ask something?"
She nodded nervously.
He tapped the page describing the rooftop scene.
"How did you come up with this part?"
Mira looked at the page briefly.
"I just imagined it."
Riku watched her expression carefully.
Her answer sounded simple.
But the details in the scene were almost identical to something he had witnessed years ago.
The rain.
The time.
Even the height of the building.
He slipped the script back onto the table.
Then he leaned slightly closer.
His voice was quiet enough that no one else in the room could hear.
"Tell me something."
Mira stiffened.
Riku's expression remained calm.
But his eyes had sharpened.
"Answer honestly."
A moment of silence passed between them.
Then he asked softly—
"Were you there that night?"
Mira's fingers tightened around the papers in her hands.
And for the first time since he had seen her…
she looked afraid.
End of Chapter 1