World - Aika’s Reckoning

The stream went live without ceremony. No fanfare from old fans and haters. No trending banner from productions and sponsors waiting to receive it.

At first, there were twelve viewers. Then thirty. Then a hundred.

Someone clipped the opening line and sent it to a group chat. Someone else quote-retweeted it without comment. A journalist’s assistant bookmarked it. A producer let it play in the background while answering emails.

By the time the counter hit ten thousand, no one was multitasking anymore.

A woman sat alone in frame. She was sat against a plain background. She didn’t have any makeup. No styling team. No handlers hovering just out of view.

Her voice was steady when she finally spoke.

‘My name is Aika Hayami, and this is my story.’

People started to pay attention slowly.

The girl in the video smiled faintly. Probably at how absurd it all was.

‘I was a normal student,’ she started.

People started recognising and remembering her then.

‘I liked music. I liked dancing. I liked singing loudly when I thought no one was listening. And yes…’ she paused, ‘I suppose I was scouted for talent. And maybe, as they say, beauty.’

A few laughing emojis appeared.

Someone typed, “💕She’s still like this! 💕My idol never changed💕”

Aika continued. ‘I became a trainee. I was told to work hard, listen carefully, and avoid certain people. I was very… majime.’

She laughed at herself. ‘I thought that meant making everyone happy.’

The view count climbed. Twenty thousand. Fifty.

‘When I debuted, I was placed in the center. I didn’t ask for it, but I did what I was told.’

Aika fans started bursting through the comments.

‘Some people didn’t like that. I didn’t notice at first. I was too busy being grateful.’

Clips of her old performances began surfacing in real time. Children waving glow sticks. Small hands copying choreography. Fans screaming her name with joy.

‘I loved performing. I loved seeing children dance in the aisles. I loved meet-and-greets. I loved hearing someone say they felt less alone after a concert.’ She said.

‘It was exhausting… But I was happy.’

The counter passed one hundred thousand. The comments and hashtags are wild. Major TV stations and radio have picked up the stream.

‘Then, I was accused of a relationship that was not mine.’ Her eyes stayed on the camera. The people watching held their breath with her.

‘Another idol was dating someone secretly. When it was discovered, she blamed me. We looked alike. And the man confirmed it.’ Aika revealed.

A murmur rippled across the internet. Archived articles resurfaced. Old comment sections reopened. Trending words changed and updated to “Aika Hayami”.

‘I was never asked for my side,’ Aika said.

Comments from her aggressive die-hard fans have now fully taken over. ‘’I TOLD YOU IT WASN’T HER! NOBODY EVER BELIEVED ME!”

‘Because there was no side. I was just there. A random girl who is as good as scapegoat.’ Aika continued.

She inhaled deeply before continuing.

‘I had protected my innocence very carefully. Because that was expected of idols. Because I believed professionalism meant boundaries. Because I thought obedience kept you safe.’

Her hands trembled visibly on the screen. At first she tried to hide it, then she just let her authentic fear show.

‘It did not.’

The silence that followed was unbelievable. People stopped commenting just for a few seconds. Everyone just stared at this woman who was bearing her soul.

‘After the scandal, I was told to cooperate. To help the company while things were sorted out. That it was temporary.’ She said.

Her voice broke for the first time. ‘I was abused.’

The word landed like a dropped glass.

‘I was abused by a producer named Rod. And later by a director named Mike.’ She said with an utmost painful recollection.

Screenshots appeared. Names began trending without explanation.

‘I was told to endure. I was told to wait it out. And when it looked like I was not able to hold out anymore, I was shown videos and photos of what was done to me. That this will ruin me forever.’

Her breath hitched. ‘They still leaked it anyways.’

‘I waited until I couldn’t bear it anymore. I survived. And I left.’

The internet exploded with sympathy and accusations. Before she could continue, another window appeared on the broadcast. An older woman whose face was partially obscured.

‘I was there,’ the woman said. ‘Not the same year. Not the same role. But the same men.’

Another joined. Then another. Different agencies. Different years. Identical language.

“Temporary. Cooperate. For your future”

The stream crossed a million viewers.

The focus went back to Aika. She looked stunned, tears spilled freely now.

‘I am speaking now,’ she said, ‘because silence was never consent. And while I was seeking to protect a certain someone from media, I have come to realize, there were a lot of people like me, who have been victimised and abuse by the current power play in the media.’

She took another deep breath before continuing.

‘I want to say something clearly.’ Her gaze sharpened. The likes are being spammed in excitement.

‘A priest named Caleb was there for me during a family medical emergency. He prayed with me. He kept me steady. He did nothing wrong.’ She appealed.

‘Compassion is not a crime.’

The comment section split like a fault line. Support surged. Denial fought back. But something irreversible had already shifted.

‘I am not asking for pity. I am asking for accountability.’ Aika concluded.

She mustered her strength and after a deep breath said, ‘If you were harmed by Producer Rod. By Director Mike. Or anyone from their circle. Anyone of these men who told you to endure for your future, my lawyer’s contact is now public. You are not alone.’

The stream ended, but the world just got started.

News stations cut programming. Papers rewrote headlines. Radios broadcasted and repeated some lines. Fans who had waited years found their voice again.

And somewhere out there, powerful men realized too late that the woman they tried to erase had just taught the world how to listen.