Chapter 24: Blinding Stars and Hollow Smiles

If someone were to ask when exactly my life devolved into a bargain-bin television drama, the answer would be simple: Today. And unfortunately, I’ve been cast as the lead.

"Harumasa Kengo!"

I had barely stepped into the lecture hall when three voices called my name in unison. Within five seconds, that number grew to ten. Within ten, the entire room was buzzing. It felt like standing in the center of a beehive that had just been agitated by a very large stick.

"Wait, is it for real? The Heartbreak Society is going to be famous now!" "I heard Mitsuzu-san can sing at a pro-idol level!" "Kengo-kun, what’s the deal between you and Kanon-chan, anyway?"

I took my seat in silence, staring at the empty chalkboard. This wasn't a classroom; it was a press conference. The professor continued his lecture with a stoic expression, professionally ignoring the sixty students gossiping beneath him. I envied that level of detachment.

"Kengo-kun!" A student leaned over from the row behind. "Is Kanon-chan really your cousin?" "Yes." "No other... hidden connection?" "No." "Are you sure?"

I shot him a look that made him recoil slightly. "Are you planning on building a harem now?" he stammered. I nearly dropped my textbook. Seriously? What kind of absurd logic was that?

Before I could craft a suitably biting retort, the chair beside me screeched. Kurumi stood up. When Kurumi stands up with that particular expression, it usually signals the impending social death of someone in the vicinity.

"Listen up," she said. Her voice was calm but possessed the edge of a blade freshly honed on a whetstone. "We’re hungry. We’re tired. So stop pestering us with idiotic questions."

The room fell into a sudden, vacuum-like silence.

"Kengo and Kanon are cousins. There’s no 'scandalous' story between them. So try using your brains before opening your mouths."

Silence reigned at last. I let out a long, weary exhale. "Thanks, Kurumi." "Don't thank me," she muttered, massaging her temples. "I was getting a migraine just listening to them."

I offered a small, tired laugh. But I knew better. This was far from over; campus gossip travels faster than a winter flu.

When I returned to the apartment that evening, I opened the door to a sight that defied common sense. Shouta was on the sofa. Kanon was beside him. They were... far too close.

"What exactly are the two of you doing?"

Shouta practically bolted upright. "Nothing!"

Kanon didn't move. She was staring at her phone, scrolling through headlines. One particularly nasty article detailed a rival idol named Charlotta attacking Kanon’s decision to leave her agency. The idol world was nothing if not predatory.

"Shouta-kun," Kanon said suddenly. "If Kengo-nii becomes the head of our new agency, will you join us?" Shouta looked at her. "Stupid question. No." "But you could meet so many famous people."

Shouta stared at the ceiling as if searching for a shred of divine patience. "Kanon." "Yes?" "Get off my lap."

I froze. I hadn't even noticed. She was indeed sitting directly on Shouta’s lap.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I shouted, physically pulling them apart. Shouta panicked. "She just sat down out of nowhere!" Kanon laughed, a playful, carefree sound. "It's just a game, like when we were kids."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. My life felt like a sitcom written by a particularly sadistic screenwriter. "Where’s Shinomiya-san?" I asked. "Handling the paperwork for the new agency. Things are moving fast." "You aren't wasting any time."

Kanon shrugged. "I finally have time for family." She smiled. And therein lay the problem. The smile didn't reach her eyes.

Night fell, and the sky filled with stars. I stood on the balcony, seeking the silence the day had denied me. Hitomi appeared behind me like a ghost.

"Kanon is on the roof," she said. "Watching the stars." She looked at me expectantly. "Aren't you going to check on her?" I sighed. "Fine."

The roof was cold. Kanon stood by the railing, her silhouette framed against the vast, twinkling expanse. "Found any falling stars yet?" I asked. "Not yet," she replied. Her voice was soft, brittle—as if it might shatter if the wind blew too hard.

I sat on the concrete floor. "This roof reminds me of the village. We used to watch the stars together all the time." Kanon gave a small, melancholy smile. "Yeah. But it feels different now."

I looked at her. "That smile earlier. It was fake." She went silent. I pressed on. "You can lie to the reporters, Kanon. But you can't lie to me."

She let out a hollow laugh, but her eyes were wet. "I'm tired, Kengo-nii. I'm so tired of pretending that everything is fine." A tear escaped, falling like a silent star. "The brighter I shine, the more people expect me to never flicker." She laughed bitterly. "They only want the best version of me. No one wants to see the wreckage underneath."

I stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Kanon. You aren't a star. You’re a human being." She looked at me, her gaze trembling with disbelief. "Humans are allowed to fade," I continued. "Humans are allowed to be exhausted. Humans are allowed to cry."

The tears came faster now. "If I stop smiling... what if everyone leaves?" I shook my head. "If they leave just because your smile vanished, then they never loved you to begin with." I pointed to the sky. "Do you know why stars look beautiful? Because of the darkness. Family is the sky, Kanon. Not a spotlight that forces you to shine."

She suddenly lunged at me, burying her face in my chest. "I abandoned my family... I didn't even know Grandfather and Grandmother had passed... I didn't know about Mom..." Her voice broke into a sob. "I was too busy shining."

I patted her head gently. "Home never locks the door. It just waits."

Footsteps echoed from the stairwell. Hitomi, Shouta, and Shinomiya emerged. They stood there in the shadows, silent. Hitomi walked forward and pulled us both into an embrace.

"We were always waiting," Hitomi said softly. "No matter how bright you were out there... here, you're just family." Shouta joined the embrace, looking uncharacteristically somber. "Kanon. You aren't alone anymore." Shinomiya offered a weary but genuine smile. "We’ll always be here."

Kanon wept openly then. But this time, it was different. It wasn't the sound of a star falling; it was the sound of someone finally finding their sky again.

"I’m home," she whispered. Hitomi nodded. "Welcome back, Harumasa Hoshimiya."

That night, Kanon didn't shine because of the stage lights. She shone because she was loved. But I knew the world wouldn't let a star like her fade into peace so easily. And when the next storm arrived, I would likely be the one standing directly in its path.