Echoes of an Idol

The old theater of Ikebukuro stood like an architectural corpse at the end of a forgotten alley.
Its once-majestic façade crumbled under the weight of decades. Torn posters hung from the walls—remnants of stage productions no one remembered ever seeing. The windows, sealed with rotting planks, let no light through.

Rei stopped before the main entrance, his spiritual senses on full alert.

Beside him, Aoi shivered—not from cold, but from recognition. The energy radiating from this place reminded her of something. The same presence she had felt in Yuki’s hospital room. In Ren’s labyrinth. In Tsubasa’s possessed eyes.

Hikari was here.

Rei pushed the door open.

The inside of the theater was a shrine.
A shrine devoted to a vanished idol. The walls were covered in posters of Tsukino Hikari—dozens, maybe hundreds. Concert photos, yellowed press clippings, framed fan letters displayed like sacred relics.

But also fan art of Nekomata_Hikari. Screenshots from her streams. Golden trophies from video platforms—commemorative plaques for one million subscribers, then two, then three. Past and present were tangled across those walls.

Through their bond, Aoi felt Rei’s throat tighten.

They moved down the main corridor, their steps echoing on the creaking floorboards. The air smelled of dust, cold incense, and something electric—like ozone after a storm.

The main hall opened before them.

Rows of broken seats stretched toward a stage drowned in shadow. The red velvet of the chairs had been eaten by moths, the ceiling’s gilding blackened by neglect. But at the center of the stage, something gleamed.

A heap of televisions and computer monitors formed a chaotic pyramid. Old cathode-ray tubes with exhausted glass stood beside cracked LCD screens, shattered tablets, smartphones with spiderwebbed displays. All of them on. All of them showing the same face.

Nekomata_Hikari.

She was beautiful. Terribly beautiful. Her black hair streaked with violet floated as if submerged in water, defying gravity with supernatural grace. Two spectral cat tails waved lazily behind her, almost hypnotic. Her violet eyes shone with a light that had nothing digital about it.

And she was singing.

A lullaby. Her lullaby.
A melody Rei had only heard again recently—at the hospital, then in the underground hall of Shinjuku.
Soft. Melancholic. Heart-rending. Her voice filled the empty theater, bouncing off the walls like a ghost’s echo.

Then she stopped.

On every screen, her violet eyes turned toward the entrance. Toward Rei and Aoi.

She smiled.

“Rei-kun~”

Her voice came from every speaker at once, creating a discordant harmony that made the air vibrate.

“You took your time.” She tilted her head, her tails swaying faster. “Did you come to end this?”

Rei stepped into the central aisle, his boots heavy on the worn wood. Aoi followed, keeping a cautious distance, her spiritual senses taut like koto strings.

“Hikari,” Rei said hoarsely. “We didn’t come to fight.”

A crystalline laugh rang through the hall.

“Really? Then why did you come?” The screens flickered. “For tea? To save me?” Her voice turned colder. “Ten years too late, Rei-kun.”

The silence that followed was thick with pain. Through their bond, Aoi felt Rei’s emotions—the guilt gnawing at him, the regret burning in his chest.

On the screens, Hikari’s expression wavered.

For a fraction of a second, something else showed beneath the digital mask. Sadness. Confusion. A sixteen-year-old girl who had lost herself.

Then the mask returned.

“Kageyama-sama gave me what you refused.” Her voice hardened. “Immortality. Eternal recognition. Thousands of people who adore me every day.”

Rei clenched his fists.

“Look at what you’ve become! This is why—”

“SHUT UP!”

The burst of rage made every screen crackle at once. The temperature in the hall dropped sharply. The lights flickered.

“Kageyama-sama’s plans are grand.” Her voice trembled now, wavering between passion and euphoria. “I will merge with the ōyūrei. I will become its heart. Its core.”

She paused, her eyes shining brighter.

“The fusion will make me a god. Millions of followers will be forced to adore me. To worship me. I will give part of that adoration to Kageyama-sama.” The avatar smiled—a smile that never reached her eyes. “I will never fall into oblivion. It’s win-win.”

Rei’s blood ran cold.

“I will remain his puppet, but I owe him that much,” Hikari answered in a flat voice. “I am in his debt.”

Silence fell again.

Now Rei and Aoi understood. Hikari wasn’t just an enemy. She was a victim. A victim who had made the wrong choices, yes—but a victim all the same.

“Yuki, Akane, Ren, Tsubasa…” Aoi said softly. “That was you?”

Hikari nodded on every screen.

“They were perfect. Popular. Thousands of fans—and just as many haters.” Her voice turned bitter. “The perfect soil to grow hatred. I connected them to the ōyūrei so it could feed on their emotions.”

Rei climbed onto the stage, moving closer to the pyramid of screens.

“You’re Kageyama’s prisoner. Prisoner of the resentment he keeps alive in you.” He reached out toward the central screen. “We can help you. We can free you.”

The screens exploded.

Not in glass—in light. Shapes burst forth around Rei, tearing free from the monitors like puppets ripped from their strings. Grotesque marionettes made of old posters, broken CDs, tangled audio tapes. Their heads were screens—cathode TVs, computer monitors—and each displayed a different expression.

Love. Grief. Hatred. Amusement. Fear. Surprise.

Fragments of Hikari’s emotions.

“Help me? Free me?” Hikari’s voice echoed from everywhere at once. “Don’t decide for me!”

The puppets attacked.

Rei dodged the first—the one showing Hatred—and countered with a sweep of silver flames. The puppet recoiled, smoking, but did not fall.

A second puppet—Grief—lunged from his left. Rei knocked it back with a strike of his tail, but three more were already replacing it.

“Rei!” Aoi leapt onto the stage, her golden light crackling around her hands. “I’ll—”

“NO!”

Rei blocked a puppet that aimed for Aoi, his flames forming a protective shield.

“If you destroy them, you mutilate her!” He dodged another blow. “Each puppet is a fragment of her soul! If you destroy Love, she’ll lose her ability to love! If you destroy Joy—”

“She’ll never be able to be happy again,” Aoi finished, understanding the horror.

The fight became a tragic dance.

Rei dodged, parried, pushed back—but never destroyed. His flames burned just enough to repel the puppets, never enough to consume them. Every movement was calculated, precise, desperate.

Aoi watched, searching for another way.

Then she understood.

She closed her eyes, focusing on her inner light—not to attack, but to harmonize. To free. As she had done with Ren.

Her golden light spread, wrapping the entire stage. She searched for Hikari’s heart—not her digital avatar, but her true essence. The sixteen-year-old girl who had been afraid of being forgotten.

The puppets slowed.

“Stop!” Hikari’s voice was panicked now. “STOP!”

Aoi opened her eyes, her light blazing brighter. “We’re going to free you, Hikari.”

Her light flowed into the screens, into the cables, into the digital network that made up Hikari’s kingdom. It found the resentment—the black, sticky mass chaining the digital nekomata’s mind—and began to harmonize it.

Rei understood. His silver flames changed—softer, warmer. He guided them toward the invisible chains binding Hikari to her bitterness, burning them gently, carefully.

Hikari screamed.

Not in pain—in release.

The puppets collapsed, dissolving into particles of light that rose back into the screens. The pyramid of monitors wavered, then exploded in a burst of violet light.

And at the center of that light, a shape appeared.

Not the digital avatar. Not the VTuber with millions of followers.

A young girl. Sixteen. Black hair. Eyes bright with tears.

Hikari Tsukino.

She floated there, translucent, spectral—yet tangible. For the first time in ten years, she existed outside the screens.

She drifted toward Rei, her feet barely touching the floor.

“You were right,” she whispered. “Ten years ago. You were right to refuse.”

She raised her hand, brushed his cheek.

“I made the wrong choice. You made the right one.”

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Light. Fleeting. A farewell.

Aoi watched, her heart tight.

Hikari turned to her.

“Take care of him.” A sad smile.

Then she stepped back, her form beginning to fade.

“Thank you for helping me.” Her voice was already fading. “I am free… Still bound to this digital world. But free.”

She looked at Rei one last time.

“You have nothing to blame yourself for, my friend. I alone am responsible…” Her smile grew brighter, almost mischievous.

She vanished in a shimmer of violet pixels.

Silence fell over the theater.

Rei stood motionless for a long time, staring at the place where Hikari had been.

Then his phone vibrated.

A message.

“Nekomata_Hikari has joined your team! Nya~ 😺”

Despite himself, Rei smiled.

Aoi took his hand. The Resonance pulsed between them—warm, reassuring.

They left the theater through the back door, stepping into a dark alley.

And found themselves surrounded.

Thirty electronic shikigami. Maybe more. Steel dogs with red eyes. Mechanical crows with blade-sharp feathers. All converging on them from the shadows.

An amplified voice echoed down the alley—familiar, hateful.

“You had no right to steal her from me!”

Kageyama.

“You will pay for this, Rei!”

The shikigami attacked.