The black business van hummed softly as it rolled down the late-night streets. Inside, the air was thick with exhaustion; everyone looked utterly drained.
"Ugh... today was another killer…"
The girl in the passenger seat slumped over bonelessly, not caring about appearances.
"Uzuki, sit properly."
The woman driving—their group's calm and composed manager—glanced over at her daughter as she spoke. "I've told you before: if you sit like that, your skirt's going to ride up. You really need to be more careful about that."
"Ehh, there's no one else in the car anyway..." Uzuki Hirokawa pouted, clearly not taking it seriously. She turned around to the back seat, where a blonde-haired girl sat quietly by the window.
That girl was Kazuka Toyohama—Mai Sakurajima's younger sister. And Uzuki was one of Kazuka's teammates in their idol group, Sweet Bullet.
They'd just wrapped up an especially demanding rehearsal for a major upcoming performance. It was well past midnight now, and Uzuki's mother, who managed the group, was kindly driving each of them home one by one.
"Kazuka~ how much longer do we have to keep rehearsing like this?" Uzuki moaned.
"Even if we're confident in the choreography, we have to keep practicing until the day of the show," Kazuka replied, her voice patient but tired.
"Uuu, I'm dying over here... my legs, my thighs—everything hurts..." Uzuki whined pitifully, practically melting in her seat.
Kazuka chuckled softly. "There, there. Just hang in there a bit longer. Once the concert's done, you can rest as much as you want."
She reached over and playfully patted Uzuki's head, messing up her hair until it turned into a fluffy, chaotic mess. Uzuki squirmed like a cat, which only made her look cuter.
"Honestly, look at you," her mother said, half amused, half exasperated. "Do you see Kazuka complaining? Or any of the others?"
"Hehehe, yeah, yeah, I know," Uzuki smiled sheepishly. "You're always picking on your own daughter. Guess it's true what they say—someone else's kid is always better."
"That's right," her mother replied without hesitation. "If Kazuka were my daughter, I'd be thrilled."
Kazuka kept her polite smile, but a flicker of loneliness passed behind her bright eyes.
She was a little jealous, truth be told. Uzuki's mother was so kind—so warm.
When the car finally stopped, Kazuka stepped out and waved goodbye to the two of them before walking toward her apartment building.
"I'm home," she said quietly as she pushed open the front door.
No answer.
She wasn't surprised. At this hour, her sister was definitely asleep.
Too tired to pay attention to much else, she didn't notice the extra pair of men's shoes by the doorway. Dropping her bag carelessly onto the couch, she grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom.
By the time she sank into the bathtub, she let out a long, heavy sigh.
So tired...
So, so tired...
But I can't stop now. I have to keep going.
Her thoughts drifted into the same melancholy rhythm as the ripples in the bathwater.
Uzuki can lean on her mom whenever she's down. The others have their families cheering them on.
But me... Mom never really understood.
She always compared me to her.
That her—was Mai Sakurajima.
Everyone saw Kazuka Toyohama as a cheerful, responsible girl. Even Uzuki's mom used to scold her own daughter by saying, "Look at Kazuka—why can't you be more like her?"
But no one knew. At home, her own mother said the exact same words—"Why can't you be more like Mai Sakurajima?"
In the end, Kazuka had been living her life chasing after her sister's back.
She'd joined Sweet Bullet not out of her own ambition, but because her mother insisted. If her daughter can become a national star, then so can mine. That was her reasoning.
Kazuka hugged her knees to her chest in the bath, her heart sinking.
At least, she could honestly say she loved performing—that part was real. That joy came from Mai too. Her sister had inspired her to dream.
But still... she's Mai Sakurajima.
How could Kazuka ever catch up to someone like her?
No matter how hard she worked, that shining figure was always ahead—impossibly far away.
It hurts...
It's really painful...
Mom will never understand. I can't be like her. I can't be Mai.
Later, she stumbled into her bedroom, collapsing onto her bed. She buried her face in the pillow to muffle her soft, trembling breaths. Her chest ached, as if the longing and frustration might spill out as tears.
If only... I could be like my sister...
…
Golden sunlight slipped through the curtains, tracing a straight line across the bed.
Ryuichi stirred, blinking groggily.
…Ow. His arms and legs tingled painfully, like he'd been struck by lightning.
He grimaced and shifted a little, realizing the numbness came from having Mai sprawled across him all night. It was the good kind of pain—the kind that came with happiness.
Yesterday had been one long, blissful day together. After their passionate moments, they'd cooked dinner, ate side by side, and shared rare, quiet hours of peace.
Of course, "quiet" didn't last. One thing led to another, and Ryuichi ended up making love to Mai several more times until she was completely exhausted and—after whispering surrender through her blushes—fell asleep in his arms.
For once, Ryuichi had skipped his nightly training. After the recent battle, he'd decided to ease up before snapping under the tension. And honestly, what better way to unwind than with his girlfriend?
Cradling Mai's warm, fragrant body against his chest, he smiled faintly when she moved sleepily, instinctively pulling his head closer in her embrace.
The scent of her hair brushed past his senses—sweet, intoxicating. No wonder they call it paradise…
Without thinking, Ryuichi pressed another teasing kiss against her bare skin, leaving yet another light mark.
By now, Mai's body was covered with them—each one his proof of victory, his "battle scars" of love.
They'd grown surprisingly in sync since last night, their rhythm effortless and natural. She was graceful and teasing; he was steady and precise—they really were in perfect harmony.
Ryuichi felt her grip on his arm tighten just a little. She was waking up.
"Stop that… it tickles," she murmured, her voice sleepy and sweet, her fingers threading lazily through his hair.
But Ryuichi blinked. Something felt… off.
Wait… her left side—there was supposed to be a small mole right there, wasn't there?
Where… did it go?
Frowning slightly, he carefully pulled free from her arms and lifted the blanket.
The moment his eyes adjusted, his pupils contracted sharply.
The woman lying beside him—
—wasn't Mai.