Under the Lights

The meeting room was filled with tension and nerves. Just down the hall in another room, the blinding lights of cameras and murmurs of reporters gathered waiting in anticipation. No one knew why they were there. No one except Akari.

Tsukasa, Akari's manager, rubbed his temples, the unknown of the situation made him anxious. "Akari, can you tell us why you've called us all here so early on a Sunday morning?"

Akari sat at the end of the table, surrounded by her staff members that she had been with for years - her manager, makeup artists, hair stylists, outfit team, production crew members.

Now that she was finally before all of them, she didn't know what to say or what to do.

Akari took a long deep breath, finding the determination within herself to proceed. "I haven't been completely honest with all of you..."

Tsukasa's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you in some sort of trouble? Is that why there's an emergency press conference waiting down the hall?"

Akari nodded slightly.

Tsukasa sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, a sign his worry was turning into frustration. "If you're in trouble then let's talk to the PR team and come up with a solution. You can't just call all these reporters here."

"It can't wait." Her nails dug into her palms as she steadied her voice and met her manager's eyes. "I need you to just trust me."

Silence fell over the meeting room.

"This might ruin my career but it's something I need to do." Akari continued. "I don't want to be selfish, but I need you all to let me do this."

The staff exchanged uncertain glances, each person searching for some sort of understanding or direction of the situation. But no one spoke. Silence stretched over the room once again - heavy, hesitant, almost suffocating.

Akari stood up in preparation to face the press. The movement felt heavier than she anticipated.

"Whatever it is... I support you, Miss Akari." A shy voice sliced through the quiet.

Akari turned to the source - her main makeup artist, cheeks flushed, hands tightly clasped, but her eyes with pure earnest. She didn't expect anyone to support her, but hearing it steadied her more than she knew. "Thank you." 

But not everyone seemed convinced.

A production crew member folded her arms tightly; lips pressed into a thin line. "You're asking us to trust you with our jobs on the line and no information. You're putting us all at risk Miss Akari."

Whispers of agreement spread throughout the room.

Tsukasa exhaled sharply, desperately pulling out his phone. "I'll call the PR team and the CEO." His voice carried no anger but clear frustration and a grim sense of duty to his job. "If you have to go through with whatever this is then we need to be ready for the fallout."

Akari didn't argue. She simply nodded.

The heaviness in the room didn't lift but it shifted as if everyone had accepted that something irreversible was about to happen, whether they were ready or not.

Akari turned towards the doors. She drew in one last breath, her resolve strengthening. 

It was time.

-

A wave of noise filled the room - typing hands, camera shutters snapping, reporters calling her name. 

Akari didn't flinch. She sat at the table on the stage with practiced elegance, though her heartbeat rang like thunder in her ears.

Tsukasa stood off to the side, phone in hand, jaw clenched. He wasn't standing with her, but he wasn't walking away either. He watched with a mixture of stress and resignation. His eyes danced between Akari and the incoming phone notifications, already preparing for the damage control and backlash.

In the meeting room, the rest of her team crowded around a monitor streaming the conference live. Some sat, some stood, some anxiously paced around. Their faces twisted in fear, confusion, and reluctant hope.

One person wasn't focused on the announcement at all.

Jun.

He stood at the very back of the room. His gaze swept over the entire crowd with quiet precision. Not one movement went unnoticed. His attention flicked between Akari and the rest of room - marking exits, measuring risks, reading body language.

Akari took a deep breath, her eyes meeting the sea of expectant faces.

Cameras clicked rapidly, the swarm of lights attacked her.

"Thank you all for coming today on such short notice." She began; her voice carried despite the wave of anxiety in her chest.

Jun's gaze sharpened.

Tsukasa held his breath.

Her team leaned closer to the screen.

The press waited expectantly.

"I have something very important to share today..." Her voice trailed off slightly. She wasn't sure what to say or how to start. She looked throughout the crowd of flashing lights and microphones, dread gripping at her heart. Everything felt strangely distant - like she was watching herself from far away.

Can I really do this? Doubt crept in quickly, whispering that she was foolish to think she could control anything. That she was about to throw her entire life away for the world to watch.

Her breath faltered. She wanted to get up. To walk off the stage. To pretend none of this was happening. To run away and hide.

But then, her eyes found Jun.

He stood completely still at the back of the room. His gaze locked on her with unwavering focus. No judgement. No doubt. No fear. Just a pillar of presence and support.

Jun didn't nod. He didn't move. He didn't try to mouth something to her. He didn't need to.

His eyes said everything - I'm here. You can do this.

Akari's anxiety melted slowly, her lungs filled with air she didn't realize she was holding, and the tremors of her hands began to still.

She straightened in her seat. "Earlier this month I was attacked twice by a stalker who had been sending me unsettling threats for a long time. I have recently discovered that the stalker was sent after me by an illegal organization operating in this city."

Cameras clicked harder. Fingers typed faster. Reporters leaned closer.

"They threatened me for money and to use me for connections and influence in their drug trafficking." She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "They said if I didn't cooperate, then they would expose me and ruin me and my career." 

She hesitated for a second, her gaze turning to Tsukasa, catching the color draining from his face. "My real name is not Akari Ito, I am not from Tokyo, and I am not twenty-two." Her voice was quiet, but the microphone carried her words across the room with unyielding clarity.

A ripple of shock and murmurs moved through the press.

"I grew up in an abusive household, and I have been trying to hide from my father ever since I escaped." Her fingers tightened on the table. "However, my father got involved with this criminal organization. He took part in illegal activities with the organization before eventually angering them... Now their anger is directed at me."

The room erupted.

Reporters shouted over one another, leaning forward with microphones, cameras flashing aggressively, notes being taken desperately.

"Are you saying your father is a wanted criminal?"

"Why didn't you tell anyone your real identity?"

"How could you lie to your fans for so long?"

Akari gripped the table, knuckles white, stomach churning. "Yes, my father is a wanted criminal. When I was younger, his addiction to drinking and gambling tore my family apart, which ultimately led to a fight that cost my sister her life. I kept my identity hidden - not just to protect myself from him, but to shield myself from a reality I wasn't ready to face..."

The reporters leaned even closer now, voices layering like a storm. 

"Who else knew about this?"

"Are you saying your father is a murderer?"

"How did you manage to keep your identity a secret while being in the public eye?"

Tsukasa stepped towards the stage, face pale, throat dry, phone buzzing relentlessly in his hand. "Akari, this is too much. You should stop."

"I'm not done." She simply said, cutting him off, eyes turning back to the crowd before he could protest. 

At the very back, Jun's eyes scanned the room with precision. His sight locked on a man in the third row who hadn't taken any notes or asked a question. Instead, he lingered subtly as if waiting for something. Jun's jaw tightened. Something was off.

Meanwhile, the reporters pressed harder. Cameras flashed like strobe lights and a few journalists had risen to their feet, shouting over the chaos.

"Are you currently under threat?"

"Do you have any proof?"

"Who is threatening you?"

Jun's eyes locked on the man. The small movements - the flick of the wrist, the shift of his sleeve, told him what was coming. The glare of a metal object within his coat caught Jun's trained eye. A knife, concealed, aimed for a strike that would go completely unnoticed by everyone else.

Jun moved swiftly, stepping through the crowd as though he were a part of the shadows. He reached the attacker just as the man made his move - hand sliding out, wrist angled, knife ready to strike.

The motion was smooth, almost invisible, but aggressive. Jun intercepted with a swift, controlled twist of the wrist, pressing the blade against the man's side. A sharp pain shot up Jun's side - the attacker had slashed deliberately, a calculated strike to wound him. Jun gritted his teeth, suppressing a grunt, holding firm on the man. His hand twisted the knife safely out of the attacker's grip, forcing him into a powerless stance. 

"Stay still." Jun growled under his breath, his voice firm despite the sting running along his side. Jun quietly signaled a nearby security officer. The officer moved silently, taking the man from Jun's grip and escorting him out.

The commotion was barely noticeable to everyone else. To the cameras, it was a faint blur of movement and then a man being quietly escorted out of the room. 

Akari's voice carried across the room, steady and unwavering.  "I am being threatened by the Hanakai Network, an illegal gambling and drug organization that is in control of the Lotus Room nightclub, Lily's Suites Hotel, Daisy Law, and other businesses." 

Even in the chaos, there was an unspoken weight behind her words. The room had witnessed it, only in fragments, but they felt the threat was real. Reporters leaned forward, eagerly waiting and listening. The faint signs of violence they had just seen gave her words credibility they could not ignore. This was no longer a story about a celebrity's secrets - it was a story of survival.