Photo with a Third Presence

There is a distinct difference between Arclight Productions: Tsukishiro Rin edition and Arclight Productions: Expansion Pack.

“Light check!”

“Somebody check the mics!”

“On it!”

And today was the latter. If the cacophony of earlier sessions was hectic then this took the gold. The last time I saw so many people in a single room moving around so fast was when Japan had beaten Spain in the World Cup.

And that was because not only Tsukishiro Rin was present, but because a collaborating idol of Arclight joined us.

Her name was Yozora Yoru, or “Yoyo” as her most faithful fans called her.

And who was called up by the powers of fate to tame the most trending idols in Japan with his camera?

A clueless college student.

My phone buzzed in my pocket as I stood in the middle of the chaos. I picked up and soon after a voice boomed in my ear louder than any studio clatter ever could.

“BRO! There’s no way you’re meeting Yoyo-chan too, right?!”

It was Ryo. The resident creeper when it came to the idol world.

“I have the right to remain silent.”

“Brooo! Your luck is unbelievable! Hope you stub your toe hard on a tripod and make a fool of yourself!”

He hung up. That was my friend, by the way, in case his words were misleading enough for you to forget.

I sighed, putting the phone back in my pocket.

“Why are you standing around, rookie?” Takano-san’s nasty glare found me sooner than I expected today. This time though I could tell, even he was nervous not to screw up. The extra angle of his brow was testament to that.

“Mikazuki.” Saya, calm as ever, walked up to me. She was probably the only constant in the storm of the studio.

“Ah, why is everybody so…”

“On edge?” Saya noted down on her clipboard before looking at me, “comes with the territory. Yozora Yoru is the up and coming talent of Arclight. Today present and future collide, one could say.”

“… It’s that big a deal, huh…” I sighed.

“We still got a few before the shoot. Why don’t you go check on Rin-san backstage?” Saya suggested.

Her suggestion wasn’t unfounded. Maybe she wanted to discuss some things like camera angles, ideas and whatnot.

The hallway outside the rehearsal set was a mess of cables and gaffer tape. I adjusted the strap of my camera and tried to slip through without dying.

Then, out of nowhere—

THUD.

Something slammed beside my head, inches from the wall. My entire body moved by instinct, my body hitting the wall.

A girl’s arm.

“Yo,” came a cheerful voice right next to my ear. “You really are as cute as they say.”

My brain rebooted. This was… the famous kabedon?!

She stepped back, grinning, jet black hair tied in sharp twin-tails that faded into streaks of violet at the tips. Streaks of violet and pink ran through her bangs as well. Her eyes were a bright, teasing pink that practically shouted trouble incoming.

This had to be Yozora Yoru. Her name didn’t ring any bells before but now seeing her up close, I could swear she was in my news feed once or twice.

“What happened, cat got your tongue?”

I blinked, still processing. “Sorry—getting wall-slammed by an idol wasn’t in my bingo card for this year.”

She laughed—a melodic, mischievous sound as she moved back. “What’s that supposed to mean, camera boy?”

“Camera boy?”

“Uh-huh.” She twirled one of her twintails around a finger. “You’re Mikazuki Hajime, right? Rin-senpai’s photographer.”

“Yeah, that’s me. And you—”

She struck a mini-pose, one hip out, eyes sparkling. “Yozora Yoru! But everyone calls me Yoyo.”

“Of course they do,” I muttered.

“Don’t look so stiff,” she said, leaning closer with a smirk. “I just wanted to see what kind of guy Rin-senpai works with. The internet wasn’t lying, you really are kinda cute.”

“Uh… thank you? I think?”

“Not used to flattery?” she teased, tilting her head. Then she leaned back, winked, and started skipping down the hall like she hadn’t just almost given me a heart attack.

“See you on set, camera boy!”

I stood there, speechless, camera still hanging limp around my neck.

“…What the hell just happened.”

I swear my life didn’t even make remote sense at this point.

“Good question,” came another voice from behind me.

I turned, slowly, to find Rin standing a few steps away, eyes half-narrowed, holding her bottled water like it was evidence.

Her smile was polite. Too polite.

“Hajime-san,” she said sweetly. “Making new friends already?”

“Huh? No! I mean wait… it’s not like that!”

“I see.” Her tone stayed calm, but her eyes flicked toward where Yoru had disappeared. “She’s… energetic, isn’t she?”

“Energetic is one word,” I said, sighing, “Unhinged is another.”

“Try not to get yourself wall-slammed again before rehearsal starts.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, giving a mock salute.

As she walked past, I caught the faintest hint of a sigh under her breath—barely audible over the hallway noise.

She seemed rather… stiff, in comparison to earlier days. Then again, a collab was always stressful I guess.

XX

The main studio had transformed overnight.

Where yesterday it looked like a half-lit rehearsal hall, today it was a glowing pastel cathedral. Pink, gold, and lavender banners draped from the rafters; mirrored panels scattered light across the floor like fairy dust. The air hummed with the low buzz of stage lights warming up.

Right in the center stood two pedestals surrounded by rolling floral props — giant daisies painted with pearl sheen.

Yeah. Subtle.

Rin Tsukishiro stepped into the set first, dressed in a soft white-and-yellow stage outfit — light fabric, flowing ribbons, small gem pins glimmering under the spotlight. She looked like she’d stepped out of her own song.

Then came Yoru — black and neon violet jacket cropped at the waist, silver chains gleaming, short skirt with iridescent accents that caught the light like city nightlife bottled in fabric. Her boots thudded with each confident step.

“Guess they’re going for an ‘angel and comet’ theme,” I muttered under my breath, fixing the lens.

“Light check!” someone yelled.

A dozen bulbs flashed around them. Rin turned her head slightly, calm, practiced. Yoru smirked and struck a casual pose, hands on her hips like she owned the floor.

Sugawara-san, the director, a man with neatly combed long hair and a unique sense of style, clapped his hands.

“Okay!” His voice cut through the chaos. “Let’s start with the main stills — together first. Smile and connection. Show that Arclight sisterhood energy.”

Never heard such an optimistic line delivered so matter-of-factly before. Gotta hand it to him.

“Of course,” Rin said politely, turning toward Yoru.

“Always happy to stand beside a legend,” Yoru replied, voice dripping with charm.

Their smiles were sweet enough to melt film — but even from behind the camera, I could tell the light between them was too sharp.

“Ready,” I said, lifting the camera. “Three… two… one…”

Click. Click. Click.

They looked perfect, yet something about their harmony felt like two suns fighting for the same sky. Yoru tilted her chin just a little higher. Rin leaned subtly forward, stealing the light back.

Perfectly balanced, as all rivalries should be.

“Good!” Sugawara called. “Now, playful! Natural poses!”

“Natural, huh?” Yoru’s smirk widened.

She turned suddenly, looping an arm around Rin’s shoulders — and leaned half an inch too close.

Rin froze for just a breath, then smiled even wider, gently placing her hand over Yoru’s in return.

“Like this?” she asked smoothly.

The tone was all sugar. The eyes? Not so much.

Click.

I swallowed. Even I could feel that silent electricity through the lens.

Yoru leaned forward slightly, closer to the lens. “Like this, camera boy?”

Rin mirrored her instinctively. “A little higher angle might be better for both of us, right Hajime-san?”

“Hajime-san, huh…” Yoru muttered, looking between us.

Click.

Their smiles never faltered, but their eyes were practically sword-fighting.

“Alright,” Sugawara said, “now do a fun one—something natural.”

“Fun,” Yoru repeated. She threw up a peace sign, then suddenly leaned against my shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Like this?” she asked, smirking up at me.

I nearly dropped the camera. “I uh— not really?”

“Yoru-chan!” Rin’s voice, still soft but slightly higher-pitched, cut through the air. “You’re supposed to interact with me, not the photographer.”

“Oh, right!” Yoru chirped. “My bad, senpai. Guess I got carried away.” She winked.

The stylist coughed to hide a laugh. I wished the floor would swallow me whole.

Sugawara, clapped his hands again, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Great work. Now let’s move on to the duo sequence! Yoru-san, lean slightly toward the lens. Rin-san, hands together in front.”

“Got it!” Yoru chirped, brushing a strand of her black-and-violet hair behind her ear. She flashed the room her signature smile — bright, confident, just shy of cocky.

Then, without breaking it, she tilted her head toward me.

“Hey, Hajime-kun— if I wink, make sure it’s centered, yeah?”

“Hajime-kun…” Rin muttered.

Exactly my thoughts, Rin-san. When did Yoyo get into first name basis with me.

I coughed and adjusted the focus, voice steady.

“As long as you don’t blink during it.”

A few staff members snickered quietly. Yoru giggled too, that melodic, mischievous sound that could be either innocent or calculated.

Click.

She did wink, perfectly timed with the flash. Rin blinked beside her — a tiny pause, invisible to everyone but me.

Click.

“Next set!” Sugawara called, gesturing toward the stage crew.

Yoru spun her umbrella prop idly, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “Make sure my good side shows, Hajime-kun.”

I exhaled softly, “I’d better if I wanna keep my job.”

She smirked. “Mm, good answer.”

Click. Click.

They switched props. Rin’s posture was immaculate as always, while Yoru crouched slightly to inspect her reflection in the glossy backdrop. The director nodded approvingly.

A few minutes later, as I adjusted my exposure settings, Yoru took a sip from her water bottle. She caught me testing angles, then said casually just loud enough for me to hear, “Careful, if you keep staring, people will think you’re taking favorites.”

I looked up. I really couldn’t understand her angle on this. She was definitely teasing me… maybe for laughs or this was just her personality.

I was kinda afraid to ask Takano-san about his previous encounters with her.

“Give me a break, my camera is shaking already as it is.”

The crew chuckled. To them, it was harmless idol energy.

To Rin, who was now beside the stylist, pretending to examine her mic pack, it was… something else entirely. Her smile didn’t falter, but her fingers fidgeted with the ribbon on her sleeve.

Sugawara clapped again. “Final sequence! Both of you sit at the edge of the dais. Casual smiles — like best friends sharing a secret.”

They sat. Rin kept her form composed, picture-perfect. Yoru leaned just a touch too close.

As I bent to adjust the reflector by her knee, she brushed a speck of glitter off my sleeve. “You’re good,” she murmured low, almost inaudible under the hum of equipment. “No wonder Rin-senpai looks so natural for you.”

That one made me pause, not visibly, but enough for the shutter to stall half a second longer.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked quietly.

“Nothing,” she said with a grin, already facing the lens again. “Just an observation.”

Click.

And with that, the final flash went off.

“Alright, that’s a wrap!” Sugawara called. “Excellent work, everyone. Rin-san, Yoru-san — beautiful chemistry today. We’ll review the cuts tomorrow.”

I finally exhaled. The lights dimmed, crew members started packing up, and chatter filled the room.

This was way more stressful than it should have been.

Yoru was already across the floor laughing with a stylist. Animated, vibrant, effortlessly charming.

Then she turned mid-laugh, caught my eye, and mouthed, see you later, before slipping out of the set with a wave.

Rin stayed behind, adjusting her hair ribbon in the mirror. Her gaze was unfocused, somewhere between exhaustion and thought.

I walked closer. She seemed a bit overwhelmed by Yoru’s energy, or maybe it was just her professional competitiveness showing.

“Hey Rin-san, you okay?” I asked,

She blinked, startled, then smiled.

“Oh Hajime-san…”

She smiled back at me.

“Of course. Just… a long day.”

Her voice was soft. Polite. Perfect.

And that smile, was the same smile she had given me on my first day. Rehearsed and polished to perfection.

Why was she crawling back into her shell now?

Was it the rivalry between them? Or was it something else?