Chapter 85: The Two-Faced Goddess

When I finally make it up to the studio, my brain is still buzzing from the bizarre encounter outside. The rest of the team is already there, Kenji is geeking out over the high-tech camera equipment, and Rina and Haruka are engaged in a silent, passive-aggressive war over who gets the better spot at the makeup station.

"Oh, good, the handler is here," a chic, professional voice says. It is Ms. Kurosawa, the editor. "We can begin. LUNA-san, I would like to introduce you to Team Ectiqa and Team Hime-Hime."

I turn, and my heart plummets into my stomach. Standing next to the editor, looking cool, confident, and completely unruffled, is the girl from downstairs. The girl who looks exactly like Aiwa Matsuki.

"It is an honor to meet you both," LUNA says to Rina and Haruka, giving them a perfect, regal bow. Her voice is the deep, commanding tone she used on me outside. There is no trace of the shy, soft-spoken Aiwa.

Rina and Haruka are both taken aback. They were prepared for a rival, but LUNA's aura of untouchable professionalism is a different kind of challenge. They exchange stiff, polite greetings.

I am just standing in the background, my mind reeling. I am looking back and forth between the LUNA in front of me and the memory of the Aiwa who crashed into me downstairs. It is the same person. It has to be. The face is the same, the hair is the same, the pendant is probably tucked away in her bag. But the voice, the personality, the entire atmosphere she projects- they are polar opposites.

Did I imagine it? Did I hallucinate that entire conversation on the sidewalk? Maybe it was just a different girl who looked exactly like Aiwa and sounded exactly like her and had the same taste in vintage anime. The odds are astronomical, but it is more believable than the idea that my shy, quiet classmate is also this cold, supremely confident cosplay queen.

I am thrown into a state of profound confusion.

The day proceeds. The solo photoshoots begin. Haruka and Rina are brilliant, as always. They are consummate professionals.

Then, LUNA takes the stage. Her performance is on another level. She is a perfect, living doll. Her every movement is precise, her expression perfectly controlled. She directs the crew with her deep, authoritative voice, pointing out subtle adjustments to the lighting and camera angles.

I am watching her, not as a fan, but as an investigator. I am looking for a crack in her perfect facade. I am looking for Aiwa.

And then I see it.

Between poses, as she is waiting for a light to be adjusted, she idly fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist- the one with the star pendant. The way her thumb and forefinger worry the edge of the charm is a small, nervous gesture. And it is the exact same gesture Aiwa makes with her pen in class when she is thinking hard about a problem.

It is a tiny, unconscious habit. A tell.

My heart starts to pound. It is her. I do not know how, and I do not know why, but it is her. This entire LUNA persona- the voice, the confidence, the cold professionalism- it is an act. A brilliant, flawless, and deeply confusing act. And I am the only one in this entire room who knows it.