Incomprehensible Whirs

Hm... What's with today? There seems to be a lot more people with headphones on than usual. It's not like I'm in a position to say anything because I, too, am wearing my own, but I always do. I was practically born with headphones.

As I continued walking down the street, I couldn't help but turn my eyes to the people walking past me.

Okay... I'm getting freaked out. Did a glitch occur in the simulation, or am I just being paranoid for no reason?

I stopped at the sight of a massive billboard atop a building. It showed the silhouette of four girls, and splattered in the most polarizing font was the name, 'Sunayomi.'

I let out a subtle gasp of realization.

Oh, right. Sunayomi released their album yesterday. How could I forget, considering I was working at the time? Then again, I have a knack for forgetting things. Sometimes, it feels like I forget I even work for them. Maybe it shouldn't be such a surprise anymore.

Still... I'm kind of ashamed of myself right now.

After an uneventful walk, I finally arrived at Yori Entertainment—a place that pulses with the heartbeat of the entertainment world. It's an agency that shapes stars and spins out record labels, home to the shining idol group, Sunayomi. And for some reason, a person like me is working for them.

Most people would probably give up everything to be in my shoes, to be this close to the spotlight. To be honest, my reasons for sticking around as a contractor have little to do with them.

Hah... If I ever admitted that out loud, people would call me crazy, and I wouldn't blame them. I'm no idiot—I know how lucky I am to have this job, even if it's just from the sidelines.

"Sup, Yozora," the receptionist greeted me.

"Ah. Hey, Akira," I said as I lifted my hand. "How are you this morning?"

"Doing good, doing good, especially since my eyes have been blessed with Sunayomi walking in earlier."

"I-is that so...?"

"Oh, don't give me that. You know damn well that you would've fallen on your ass if you were in my position."

"Would I?"

"You sure as hell would."

Is he joking? Or is he being serious? I can't tell, but either way, my question was genuine.

I've been with this agency for almost a year, and in all that time, I can count on one hand the moments I've seen the Sunayomi members up close. Their style, their looks—they've evolved with the trends, but to me, they've always been just that: talented, good-looking girls who can sing and dance.

And yet, I can't wrap my head around the... 'relationship...' between idols and their fans. Some people worship these girls like they're goddesses, but they're not. Like everyone else, they're just human.

It's whatever, though. If people want to form a cult for some strangers whom they'll never be able to reach, then they can do that. It's none of my business.

"Where are they now?" I asked.

"Who? Sunayomi?" Akira hummed. "You gonna swipe a peek? You pervert."

"What? Absolutely not."

"Don't gotta try and hide it, man. We've all done that at one point."

"... Unbelievable. Forget it. I'm leaving."

"Whatever you say!"

I pulled my headphones from my neck and turned the volume to max, blocking out any sounds that might come my way.

'Swipe a peek,' huh? That's a crazy suggestion. I wonder if what he said was even true—that everyone has done it at some point while working here.

Again, I can never understand the relationship between idols and fans. It's just weird. Absurdly weird.

I felt a light tap on my left shoulder and turned to find a girl standing there. She was a bit shorter than me, dressed in an oversized white shirt that seemed to swallow her slight frame. Her long, ice-blonde hair curved across her face like a silken waterfall with an off-centered ponytail. Her topaz eyes met mine with a gentle, almost pleading expression, but what she wanted was a mystery. Her lips were moving, but all I could hear was the blaring music.

Music? Ah...

I pulled off my headphones. "Sorry about that. How can I help you?"

"N-no, I should be sorry for bothering you," she said sheepishly. "You see, I haven't been back here in a while. Could you point me to the rehearsal rooms? I got lost when I went to the washroom."

"Sure. Just follow this corridor, then take the next left. You should see a sign further down that says 'rehearsal.' Can't miss it. It's hung up on the ceiling. The rehearsal rooms will be right next to it.

"Oh. Thank you."

"Mhm."

I lifted my headphones up once more and made my way to an elevator. Hopefully, she can make it on her own. Maybe I should've escorted her there just to make sure.

Then again, I would've seemed like a creep. I wonder who she is. I've never seen her around before. Maybe she's a new hire.

Hm... Then again, she said that she hadn't been back here in a while. Does that mean she already works here? Or perhaps she used to work here. Hence, 'coming back.'

Oh, well. Hope she makes it.

I pressed the 'up' button on the elevator and waited. After a couple of seconds, the doors opened, and right as I was about to step in, a man walked out.

There was this tall guy in a business suit, with dark brown hair slicked back into a spiky wave. His sharp eyes had this annoyed look, but I knew it was just his usual expression. That's just how his face is at all times.

"Manager Na," I greeted him with a bow.

"Ah, Yozora," he grinned. "Perfect timing. Walk with me."

He paced past me, leaving me to wonder what the rush was about. I turned down my music and followed him.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Huh? What could be wrong?" he replied.

"I don't know. You're walking faster than usual."

"Ah, I'm just reminiscing. Seeing your face today reminded me of what you did at that concert five months ago. Remember that?"

"You bring it up so often that it's hard to forget."

The thing Manager Na can't seem to shut up about was Sunayomi's comeback concert that happened five months ago. Just twenty minutes before the show was set to start, the sound system went haywire. All I did was fix it—simple as that. But Manager Na keeps blowing it out of proportion, acting like I saved the whole event or something.

"Well, like you said, it's hard to forget," he chuckled. "Not even the 'experts' could figure it out, and like a dark vigilante, a no-named kid comes along and fixes it like it was nothing."

"It was nothing," I said.

"Nothing, my ass. If it weren't for you, the concert would've been postponed. Where'd you even learn all that? I didn't see any of it on your resume."

"It had nothing to do with the position I was applying for. I didn't feel the need to add it."

"So you knew you had the skills to become a sound engineer, yet you chose to be a backstage crew runner instead."

"It's a simple job that pays decently. Plus, I don't have to come in as often or interact with many people."

"Your honesty is scary sometimes, kid."

It's not like I ever dreamed of being a sound engineer. I just messed around with it a bit when I was younger. I love music, sure, but I never imagined making it a career. I'm just one of millions who enjoy it from the sidelines.

"By the way, when are you gonna do something about those bags under your eyes?" Manager Na asked with his arms crossed.

"My... bags?" I reached my fingers up to touch the bottom of my eye. "They've always been there."

"Yeah, but they've been getting darker than usual."

"Well, you know. Life just sucks."

"You're way too young to be saying that, kid. I remember when I conducted your interview, you looked like a depressed fish. Still do, to be honest. I thought you'd be ecstatic to work so close with Sunayomi, but nope. Same ol' Yozora."

"To be fair, I wasn't a fan of Sunayomi back then."

"Well, how about now?"

"Now? Hm... I guess I am."

"And yet, I don't see you out there waving your light stick while screaming out the name of your bias."

When he said those words, I felt my body physically cringe.

"You'll see me buried six feet under before that ever happens," I grumbled.

"Sheesh... Kinda gloomy, don't you think?"

"It is what it is."

Manager Na rubbed the back of his head while staring at me. I hate it when he does that, because I know he's judging me.

"Well, whatever," he said. "To each their own, eh? Let's move out."

"Where to?" I asked.

"Heh. You'll see."

As he continued down the hallway, the gears in my head began to turn.

What the hell? He's never said anything like that to me before. He always told me straight up what my task was, and I'd simply do it. I hope it's not anything drastic.