Photo of a Smiling Daisy

The morning light was barely awake. You could tell because even Tokyo hadn’t started screaming yet.

A thin fog lingered over the quiet garden we’d rented for the day — a patch of green hidden behind an old art museum, complete with trimmed hedges, stone paths, and just enough flowers to justify the cost.

Someone at Arclight called it a scene of purity. I would probably call it a mosquito buffet waiting to happen.

Apparently, the goal was to get a natural atmosphere for Rin-san’s upcoming documentary and also to advertise her new single called “Smiling Daisy”

That meant no studio lights, no fans, no glam squad hovering around with touch-up brushes.

Just the idol, the morning light, and… me.

Well, me, Nakahara Saya, two assistants, a sound guy, and a PR rep pretending she wasn’t dying of pollen allergies.

Authentic, right?

“Make sure you get plenty of wide shots,” Saya called out from behind the monitor. She was in her usual sharp black suit, sipping coffee like she’d been awake since the dawn of civilization. “And remember — we’re highlighting Rin’s natural side today.”

“Got it,” I said, adjusting my strap and crouching near the patch of flowers that framed the path.

It was early, too early in fact, and the breeze was cool enough to make me second-guess my outfit choice.

Bright orange sweater. White pants. Black sneakers.

I know I say “neutral colors” is how you dress smart but… sometimes the art student within me wakes up and this sweater become my impulse buy.

Saya gave me a once-over and sighed.

“Unique sense of style, Mikazuki-san. Takano-san would probably chew you out for it.”

“Well,” I muttered under my breath, “Takano-san can choke on his Americano for all I care.”

“What was that?” she tilted her head.

“Nothing! Just saying it’s… organic. Fits the natural theme.”

She hummed skeptically but turned away. I swear she enjoys keeping me nervous.

The sound of footsteps on gravel pulled my attention forward.

Rin arrived a few minutes later, flanked by her stylist and assistant — though they broke away once she spotted us.

Her outfit was simple, elegant: a soft white dress, the kind that caught the light like it was made for it. Her pink hair was tied in that loose ponytail again, one lock of fringe brushing over her face just so.

“Good morning,” she said with a small bow. Her voice was gentle, yet a little tired— like even idols needed caffeine to function before sunrise.

“Morning,” I replied, raising my camera slightly in greeting. “You look… uh, exactly how this garden wishes it could.”

Her eyes widened a fraction, then softened with a quiet laugh. “You’re strange as ever, Mikazuki-san.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The distance between us was still there, of course. We didn’t become buddies overnight. But after yesterday’s talk it felt like we were on the same page.

“Interesting choice of clothing, Miyazaki-san.”

“Nobody likes it, huh…” I sighed, “Nobody gets my style!”

I said exaggeratedly.

Rin threw her hands up in, slightly concerned.

“No, I said it’s interesting!”

“You’re too nice Rin-san…” I fake cried, “Interesting in idol language probably means I look like a clownfish…”

“Now that you mention it…” Saya tapped at her chin.

Rin giggled behind her hand, a soft melody carried by the wind.

“You’re too dramatic, Mikazuki-san.”

Saya clapped once. “Alright, Rin-san, we’ll start with some walking shots near the east path. Mikazuki, keep it natural, follow her lead.”

“Copy that.”

Rin stepped into position, brushing her hair aside. The light hit her just right — soft, golden, halo-like. I adjusted my focus, feeling that familiar pressure in my chest.

She smiled. Perfectly.

Too perfectly.

Here we go again. I sighed.

“Ready when you are,” I said.

I clicked once. Twice. It was the perfect picture. Although it wasn’t.

Or at least for me.

“Can you go over there maybe?” I pointed, “the sun frames it perfectly without hiding your features.”

“Sure thing.”

“Huh… how about another pose?”

“Okay.”

“Hm… if I crouch down…”

I basically tried everything I could in a timespan of ten minutes. I fiddled with the settings of my camera, adjusted the lens…

Still. She was just… perfectly smiling. I mean that’s what she learnt to do in this situation.

But I couldn’t let that slide.

How could I make her smile like I did on my first day…?

And no i wasn’t gonna insult her again!

“Look, Rin-san a swan!”

“A what?”

She didn’t even look where I pointed.

“I mean… a toad!”

“Ew…” She muttered. Yeah that slight look of disgust doesn’t fit “Smiling Daisy” in the slightest…

Plus, toads are cute. Not ew.

“What is he even doing?” Saya muttered beneath her breath.

“Well, hiring an amateur was bound to cause this…” The PR head whispered back to her.

I can hear you guys, thank you very much for the constructive feedback.

Rin was looking back at me with clear confusion in her face.

Yep, I’m definitely gonna be lining up in the unemployment office tomorrow morning.

I could always just take her picture like normal, though…

No! Never! I’m dying on that cross before I throw away my principles!

I had to think of something. And fast.

I shifted to get a lower angle near a row of daisies.

That’s when I felt inspiration tickle my neck. It was coming to me!

Could inspiration actually tickle you though?

I froze.

Another tickle. Then—

bzzzzzzt.

Oh no. That’s not inspiration!!!

“Uh… Hajime-san?” Rin blinked, mid-pose. “Are you alright?”

“There’s—uh—something—” I tried to play it cool, but then it crawled under my collar.

Instinct took over.

“AH DAMN IT! THE HELL IS THIS?!”

I yelped, flailing all over like a dance nobody knew the steps to. I didn’t either.

“Kill it with fire damn it!”

Rin blinked, startled… and then she laughed.

Not a giggle — an actual, unguarded, full laugh.

For a moment I forgot whatever monstrosity was crawling up my shirt and aimed my camera at her.

Click.

I didn’t even think about it. My hand moved on instinct, the shutter snapping mid-laughter.

When I lowered the camera, Rin was still covering her mouth, eyes bright with amusement.

And of course the moment I take the picture the bug magically decides to fly out of my shirt.

“Was it a bee?”

“Phew..” I exhaled, “it was satan with wings was what it was!”

Meanwhile the PR head was almost rolling on the floor laughing. May ants crawl on her.

On the other hand Saya simply rubbed her temples.

“Working with children…”

“Okay, I think that’s enough ‘authenticity’ for one morning,” she muttered, turning back toward the monitor. “Let’s wrap—”

“Wait,” said the PR head, still half-laughing. “You might wanna see this first.”

She gestured toward me, motioning for my camera.

Oh no.

The moment of truth.

I walked over and handed it to her, still trying to look like someone who totally meant to flail like a lunatic in front of Japan’s biggest idol.

The PR head scrolled through the shots—

Click.

Click.

Then she stopped.

The laughter faded.

Saya leaned in.

Her brow lifted. “…Huh.”

“What?” I asked, but nobody answered.

Rin approached quietly, curiosity winning out over modesty. “Can I see?”

The PR head turned the screen toward her.

It was the photo.

Rin mid-laugh, hair caught by the morning breeze, the soft light behind her blooming like a halo.

And around her feet, the daisies glowed in gentle focus — their pale petals mirroring her expression perfectly.

Her joy didn’t look staged. It didn’t look like a promo shot.

It looked alive.

Saya’s voice broke the silence first.

“…You really did capture it.”

“Capture what?” I asked carefully.

She smiled faintly, eyes still on the image. “The theme. Smiling Daisy.”

For a second, nobody said anything. Even the sound guy lowered his boom mic like it’d be rude to disturb the moment.

Then Rin’s soft voice cut through.

“That’s… me?”

Her tone wasn’t prideful — just quietly surprised, as if she’d never seen herself like that before.

“Yeah,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “Guess so.”

She kept looking at the screen for a while, eyes reflecting that same soft glow from the picture.

Saya exhaled. “Alright. That’s enough for now. Good work, everyone.”

The crew started moving again, muttering impressed things under their breath. I caught the PR head whispering something to Saya about “using this one for the official poster.”

Rin stayed where she was, still looking at the photo, still smiling — not the idol’s smile, but the real one.

I raised my camera slightly. “Hey, Rin-san?”

She looked up, startled.

Click.

Another smile.

Another photo.

Another small victory.

📸

The car’s quiet hum filled the space between them, broken only by the rhythm of the city rolling past the windows.

Rin sat in the back seat, her posture relaxed but her eyes fixed on her phone. On the screen glowed the photo Hajime had taken — her face caught mid-laughter, her hair brushing her cheek, the morning light spilling across her features.

For a long while, neither of them spoke. Then Saya’s voice came, calm and professional as always.

“He’s an interesting one, that Mikazuki.”

Rin glanced up. “You think so?”

Saya nodded, eyes on the road ahead. “Not many people would’ve handled this morning the way he did.”

There was a faint trace of amusement in her tone — the kind that came from watching chaos somehow turn into success.

Rin smiled softly. “He’s strange. But… easy to talk to.”

The idol admitted.

Saya hummed in agreement. “A rare sight in this business.”

Silence settled again, the kind that didn’t feel heavy — just thoughtful. Rin turned her gaze back to her reflection in the window.

She could still hear his voice — that awkward honesty, the way he didn’t try to flatter her or hide behind polite words. It was clumsy, maybe even unprofessional, but… it was honest.

And she hadn’t realized how much she missed honesty until now.

Saya’s eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror, watching Rin study the photo with quiet fascination.

He got lucky today, she thought. He made her laugh once — captured a moment by accident. But luck doesn’t last forever. He’ll need more than sincerity to keep her like that.

Her gaze softened, though, almost imperceptibly. Still… for now, that one photo might’ve been enough.

Outside, the city moved in flashes of light and motion.

Inside the car, Rin smiled faintly to herself — not the idol’s smile, not the public one.

Just hers.