Photo in Fulll Bloom

The bass test thumped through the wall, shaking the mirror slightly. The concert was about to start.

And if I didn’t make it out soon, not only would I miss the live—I’d probably end up on a national watchlist.

“Okay, Hajime,” I muttered, pacing in circles. “You’re calm. You’re collected. You’re just trapped in an idol’s dressing room. No need to panic.”

…

“I’m panicking.”

I tried the handle again. Nothing.

Kicked the door. Nothing.

For a second I considered breaking it down… but then I remembered I had the upper-body strength of a breadstick so I moved on.

Then my earpiece crackled.

“Mikazuki, in position, I presume?”

Saya’s voice. Crisp, businesslike, terrifyingly calm.

Not for long though, cause I had no option than to drop the bomb on her.

“Nakahara-san, I need your help!”

“What did you do now?”

“I—uh—I got locked inside Rin-san’s dressing room? Kind of. Sort of.”

Silence.

“…Nakahara-san?”

“How retarded can you be?”

Valid response. Couldn’t really say anything to that.

“How did you manage to do that? Didn’t you leave with Rin-san?”

“I well… she didn’t exactly know I was in here.”

“You know what, don't finish that. I don’t want to know.”

“Okay but can you get me out?!”

I could practically hear her sigh.

“Listen. I can’t come unlock you right now, Rin’s about to go on stage. You’ll have to find another way out.”

“Another way out? What am I supposed to do, phase through the wall?!”

“You have legs. Use them creatively.”

“Nakahara-san, I’m serious!”

Another sigh.

“… Now that I think about it… There’s a wardrobe transfer passage behind the vanity mirror. It connects dressing rooms for costume changes. Crawl through that if you can fit.”

“…You’re kidding.”

“Do I sound like I’m kidding?”

“…Copy that.”

I turned to the wall behind the vanity. Sure enough, half-concealed by hanging jackets, was a curtain seam. I pulled it aside—revealing a narrow, fabric-lined passageway stuffed with backup outfits. A literal tunnel of sequins and glitter.

“This is it? This is my way out?” I whispered.

Still, no choice.

I crouched, clutching my camera, and dove in.

The tunnel was tighter than expected—racks brushing my shoulders, the air thick with perfume and fabric softener. My knee hit something hard. A metallic clang echoed.

“Sorry, Rin-san’s clothes!”

I kept crawling, dragging myself forward like a man escaping a fabric apocalypse, until a faint light appeared ahead. A curtain, half open. Freedom!

I crawled out and straight into another dressing room.

Unfortunately it wasn’t empty.

Two stylists turned, froze mid-conversation, and shrieked.

“AHHHHH—!”

“I’M STAFF! I SWEAR!” I cried, hands up, hair full of feathers from a backup outfit.

They blinked. One pointed.

“Why were you in there?!”

“Long story, catch you later!”

Before they could process that, I bolted past them, bursting into the hallway.

Crew members jumped aside as I sprinted down the corridor. The speakers outside boomed:

“And now—Tsukishiro Rin!”

Crap I was running late. I run down the stairs and found my way through the flock of people. I somehow found Morita-san, whipped out my camera and crouched beside him.

“Mikazuki? Where have you been?” He raised his brow at me.

I gulped. Couldn’t really tell him now, could I?

“Toilet break. Blame EnerCharge Xtreme…”

“You’re supposed to shoot from closer up…”

“Ah, right.” I moved to my designated spot just as Rin was greeting the crowd.

The lights dimmed.

A low hum spread through the crowd like static, glowsticks rising like a field of fireflies. Then the stage bloomed to life—bright yellows, soft whites, petals spinning across the digital backdrop.

And there she was.

Rin Tsukishiro.

No hesitation, no doubt—just radiant motion wrapped in sound and color.

“The morning sky is painting dreams in gold,

A little breeze says you’re not alone!”

Her voice rang clear, crisp, the kind that could slice through noise and still feel warm. The fans erupted—cheering, waving banners, chanting her name in perfect rhythm.

“Rin! Rin! Rin!”

I raised my camera out of instinct, but my hands felt almost slow compared to the energy pouring from the stage.

There was no doubt about it. Her demeanor, her posture, her smile, her confidence…

This was her element.

“I’ll smile like a daisy in the sun,

Even when the clouds come one by one!”

The lights hit her just right—gold and pink glimmers reflecting off the sequins of her dress. She twirled mid-step, hair flowing, every move rehearsed and yet so effortless it looked like flight.

Suddenly, I forgot all about my conundrum. My heart was now racing for a whole new reason.

I lowered the camera for a second.

She owned this world.

Not as a mask, not as an act. This was the Rin Tsukishiro the world fell in love with, and suddenly, I understood why.

“It’s okay if the rain won’t go,

Even flowers need it to grow!”

She leaned toward the crowd, touching her heart as she sang, voice soft but unshakable. Every word came alive with meaning, her tone soaring above the noise.

Through the lens, I saw faces lit with awe—and at the center of it all, one girl who made the entire room feel like sunlight.

Then came the final chorus.

“So I’ll smile like a daisy in the sun,

Even when my heart weighs a ton!”

She spun, petals scattering from the confetti cannons, and pointed toward the crowd—toward me.

Our eyes met for a fraction of a second.

She smiled. Radiantly, dazzlingly…

My breath caught.

Click.

The shutter went off before I even realized I’d pressed it.

I didn’t know if that smile was rehearsed or real—if she even knew where I was standing—but in that instant, it didn’t matter. It was magic. Pure, blinding magic captured in one frame.

The music swelled, the crowd roared, and she held her pose just long enough for the lights to wash over her one last time.

“No matter how far the sky or view,

This daisy’s smile… is shining for you!”

The final note hit, soft and clear.

For a heartbeat, the whole hall froze in stillness—then applause burst out like thunder.

She waved, beaming, cheeks flushed and chest rising from the adrenaline.

“Thank you, everyone! That was Smiling Daisy! Two more songs to go—let’s make them bloom!”

The cheers redoubled.

And me?

I was still standing there, half behind my camera, half out of breath.

I’d heard of idols before. But I’d never felt one before.

Her energy was unmatched. She captivated every heart in the venue just by sheer charisma alone.

And as the lights shifted for the next track, I glanced at the photo preview.

There it was—her smile, her eyes, the glimmer of life that even the best rehearsals can’t fake.

“Heh…” I smiled, “Guess I was wrong…”

Some things didn’t need to be spontaneous to look this real.

📸

The applause was still echoing when I made my way backstage. Crew members rushed around—coiling cables, collecting props, congratulating each other. Somewhere in that chaos, Rin Tsukishiro was bowing for the last time before disappearing behind the curtain.

She was radiant even as she walked offstage, sweat glistening, hair slightly messy, the mic still in her hand.

That “idol glow” people always talk about? Yeah, it’s real. And it’s borderline unfair.

“Good job, Mikazuki.” Morita patted my shoulder as he passed by.

“Uh, thanks… you too, Morita-san.”

“Our job for today is done. Go get some rest.”

“Roger.”

I waited near the hallway, camera still hanging from my neck, pretending to check settings while my heart refused to calm down.

Yeah… I couldn’t just leave like that. Not before I talked to Rin-san about whatever happened today.

After a few minutes, I finally gathered the courage to knock on her dressing-room door.

Knock knock.

“Come in!” came her soft voice.

I slid the door open a few inches. “Uh hey, Rin-san. Am I… interrupting?”

She turned, half out of costume, still radiant. “Hajime-san? No, not at all. Did something happen?”

I stepped in, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah… something kind of stupid actually. I just thought I should, uh, come clean before rumors decide to do it for me.”

Rin blinked. “Come clean?”

I exhaled. “So… when Morita-san asked me to get a candid backstage shot earlier… I, uh—”

I paused, grimaced, and braced for impact.

“—kinda hid in your dressing room.”

She froze. “Eh?”

“Okay, hear me out!” I raised my hands defensively. “It’s not what it sounds like! I was trying to get a natural shot—you know, authentic, real, human—so I just hid inside a clothes rack to take the picture!”

Her lips parted. “You hid… inside a clothes rack?”

I nodded solemnly. “It was a decision that had to be made. Although poorly executed.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “Was I undressed?”

“No, of course not! You were fully clothed! Otherwise I would already be asking for forgiveness from God!”

Her suspicious eyes still didn’t relent.

“But?”

“But you were kinda talking to yourself… I didn’t hear much though, I swear!”

“Jeez!” She pouted at me, looking away. “Idiot…”

“I shall eternally beg for your forgiveness…”

I bowed deeply in front of her.

She took a sideways look at me, and sighed softly. A small smile tucked at her lips.

“I didn’t see you go out though… When did you leave?”

“Well that’s the thing… I didn’t.”

She paused.

“What do you mean?”

“Well your staff locked me in, so I had to crawl through some kind of wardrobe tunnel thing you people use for costume changes.”

For a moment, she just stared at me, and I swear I could see the exact moment she processed the sheer stupidity of it.

Then—she burst out laughing. Not a polite giggle. Not an idol laugh.

A full, helpless, honest laugh.

I blinked. “I—I’m serious!”

“I know,” she said between laughs, covering her mouth, “That’s what makes it worse!”

“Hey, at least I didn’t panic and break the door! …Though, uh, I did try.”

Her laughter only got louder. She leaned against the vanity for support. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, I did. But these doors are extremely sturdy!”

Rin was crying from laughing now, cheeks flushed pink, shoulders shaking.

“That’s… the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, wiping her eyes.

I sighed, defeated but smiling. “So, yeah. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for, uh, trespassing in your wardrobe. Professionally.”

She took a breath, still smiling, her laughter finally settling into soft giggles. “You’re forgiven, Hajime-san. That was… oddly brave of you.”

“Yeah, brave isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Whenever you’re around… everything seems to be fun…”

She muttered beneath her breath, probably without her realizing.

That made my cheeks redden, just a tad. Yeah, not a full on blush I swear.

“I-uh… thanks. That’s, well… something I don’t hear often.”

A small silence followed — not awkward, just… warm. She looked down at the floor for a second, twirling the mic wire around her finger.

Then she spoke quietly.

“You were watching the live, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Front and center.”

“Then…” she hesitated, “Did I… do alright?”

I looked at her — really looked at her. The same girl who’d filled that entire hall with light was now fidgeting like she’d just bombed a presentation.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Rin-san,” I said. “I don’t know if I took good pictures tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “Eh? Was I that bad?”

“No, of course not!” I threw my hands up, “I just well… wasn’t paying much attention to the camera.”

She tilted her head, confused. “Then… what were you paying attention to?”

“You,” I said simply.

Her lips parted slightly, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

“M-Me?” Her face reddened all at once, eyes widening.

I nodded. “You were dazzling up there. All those times I said idols looked too perfect—yeah, I take that back. You made me eat those words tonight.”

She blinked, speechless. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.

“You looked alive, Rin. You could take anyone’s breath away. If I could catch even half of that in a photo, then I’d call it a success.”

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Just the faint hum of the lights above and the muffled sound of crew talking down the hall.

Then, softly…

“…Then… I’m glad you were watching,” she said, smiling shyly, “I was rather nervous when I saw you weren’t in position…”

“You… noticed?”

“Of course.” She cleared her throat, “B-Because Nakahara-san told me to p-pose that’s why…”

Her stuttering aside, the thought of her looking for me in the crowd was… pretty endearing.

That was it. Just one line, one look, and I knew I’d never forget this moment.

I smiled back, adjusting my camera strap. “I see.”

She nodded shyly, and I smiled.

“Well then, guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Rin-san.”

“See you tomorrow, Hajime-san,” she said, voice quiet but sincere.

I turned to leave, and right before the door closed behind me, I heard her whisper to herself — barely audible, but real.

“…I’m really glad.”

And for the first time that day, I didn’t feel like the idiot who got locked in a dressing room.

I felt like the guy who’d just seen something no lens could ever truly capture.