Chapter 4 : the world of lights

The sound of clicking shutters filled the air like tiny bursts of thunder.
Ren Ichinose stood in the middle of the white studio, surrounded by silver reflectors, stylists, and cables that crawled across the floor like vines. The air smelled faintly of hairspray and expensive perfume. His reflection stared back at him from half a dozen camera lenses — the same face he’d seen a thousand times, but never quite recognized.“Alright, Ren, let’s try one with a softer expression,” called the photographer, adjusting his lens.“Like I’m in love?” Ren asked dryly.“Exactly. You’re selling the idea of love — not the reality of it.”
Ren exhaled through his nose. He tilted his head, softened his gaze, and let his lips curve just slightly. The assistants murmured in appreciation; the photographer grinned.Perfect. Marketable. Not real.
Across the set, Takeshi Arima, his manager and oldest friend watched the monitors.“You could at least pretend to enjoy this,” he said when Ren joined him during a break.“I did. That’s why they pay me,” Ren replied, picking at the seal on a bottle of water.“You’re impossible.”“I’m practical,” Ren corrected. “I smile, they sell. That’s the deal.”
Takeshi sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if you remember what it felt like to do this for fun.”Ren didn’t answer. He turned his gaze to the posters pinned on the wall — mock-ups from different advertising agencies vying for the Eclipse campaign. Among them, one caught his eye: a design with warm tones, sunlight catching the edge of his face. It looked… human.
“That one’s new,” he said.“Yeah. Came in last night. A junior designer redid the concept after your little critique.”Ren raised an eyebrow. “Really? Brave of her.”Takeshi smirked. “Her name’s Ayase Fujimoto.”
Ren remembered the woman from the meeting — tired eyes, messy hair, stubborn as stone. The only person who hadn’t looked star-struck.He turned back to the poster. “She’s better than your usual hires.”“She’s not mine,” Takeshi replied. “She’s your problem now.”
Ayase was learning that the world of entertainment was as bright as it was exhausting.
The office buzzed with energy: phones ringing, printers humming, and the constant clatter of heels on tile. Posters of famous idols lined the corridor, each one grinning beneath glossy logos. Ayase walked past them with her laptop in hand, still thinking about the numbers she needed to submit for rent before the weekend.
She reached the design floor and sank into her chair with a sigh. “Five campaigns, three deadlines, and zero sleep,” she muttered.
“Make that four campaigns — you survived one already,” came a cheerful voice behind her.
Ayase turned to see Kana Morimoto, her best friend and HR officer, holding two cups of coffee. Kana had the kind of energy that could light up a conference room; her chestnut hair was tied in a perfect ponytail, her nails painted the same pastel pink as her phone case.
“You’re my savior,” Ayase said, taking the cup.“Obviously. So, Miss Eclipse Project, how’s working with Japan’s top actor?”Ayase grimaced. “Intense. He has opinions.”Kana laughed. “Translation: he’s arrogant but gorgeous?”“I didn’t say that,” Ayase said, sipping her coffee.“You didn’t have to.”
They both laughed softly. For a moment, the fatigue of deadlines and bills melted into something lighter — two friends stealing a small piece of peace between chaos.
Later that afternoon, the creative director called for an all-hands meeting. The big reveal of the selected concept for the Eclipse perfume campaign.
Ayase sat among the designers while Ren and his team joined via large screens from the studio. His image filled the room: flawless under the lights, wearing a sharp black suit. Even through the screen, his charisma drew the eye.
The director gestured toward the display. “We’ve reviewed all submissions. The final choice is this — the revised concept from Fujimoto.”
Ayase’s heart skipped. Her design appeared on the projector: Ren standing beneath soft sunlight, shadows like silk across his face, the tagline simple — ‘Breathe in what’s real.’
Ren studied it quietly. The room waited.
Finally, he nodded. “I like it.”
The silence that followed was almost comical. The notoriously difficult actor had just approved something on the first try.Ayase blinked. “You… do?”Ren’s voice came through the speakers, smooth as glass. “It’s honest. You didn’t try to make me perfect.”“You’re welcome,” she replied before she could stop herself.A few chuckles rippled across the room. Ren’s mouth quirked slightly — not quite a smile, but close enough.
“Good work,” the director said quickly, sensing the rare harmony. “Fujimoto, you’ll be on the next phase. Location shoot coordination.”
Ayase’s stomach dropped. “Location shoot?”“Yes. On-site supervision next week.”“Meaning I’ll be there… with the actor?”Ren’s voice carried faint amusement. “Try not to sound so horrified.”
After the meeting, Kana dragged Ayase to the break room.“You’re going on set with Ren Ichinose ! Do you realize how many people would kill for that?”“I’d trade it for a nap,” Ayase said, leaning her head against the wall.Kana giggled. “You’re unbelievable. At least take photos — for, you know, company morale.”“Company morale, huh?”“And my personal collection,” Kana confessed with a wink.
Ayase smiled despite herself. It felt good to have someone like Kana — a constant thread of laughter woven through her stressful days. They had met back in college, two broke students living off convenience-store meals, dreaming of creative jobs. Kana had always been the talkative one, Ayase the quiet observer. Somehow, that balance still worked.
As they left the office together, the city outside was glowing — Tokyo at sunset, skyscrapers gilded by gold. Billboards flickered with faces of idols and actors, their eyes too bright, their smiles too perfect.
“Sometimes,” Ayase said softly, “I wonder if any of them are really happy.”Kana glanced at her. “You mean the celebrities?”“Yeah.”Kana thought for a moment. “Maybe some are. Maybe some pretend. But I think people like you — who still see the difference — are what make the world feel real.”
Ayase looked up at the giant ad screen across the street — Ren’s face, promoting a car this time, eyes sharp and distant.She felt a strange pang in her chest. Not admiration, not dislike — something quieter. Curiosity.
Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Ren was sitting in his manager’s car, scrolling through the digital version of the approved campaign.“Breathe in what’s real,” he murmured.For the first time in a while, he smiled without realizing it.
End of Chapter 4