The first thing Elliot noticed when he walked through the school gates Monday morning was silence.
Not the good kind. Not the peaceful, autumn-breeze-through-the-trees kind. The other kind.
The kind that happens right before people start talking.
And they did.
Everywhere.
It wasn't shouting. It wasn't laughter. It was that low, rising hum — the sound of curiosity with teeth.
He didn't even have to look. He could feel it.
The stares. The not-so-subtle turns of heads. The flashes of phones angled just slightly too high.
And there it was — his face.
Fuzzy, low resolution, pulled from the crowd footage of Ami's performance. The moment he handed her the mic. The one where she looked at him like he was gravity itself.
Someone had screenshotted it, added text, and turned it into a meme already.
"Manager-kun saves the day 💋"
He wanted to throw up.
⸻
The classroom was worse.
He slid open the door, and every conversation cut out mid-sentence.
Dozens of eyes. Then laughter. Then phones out again.
He sat down slowly, jaw tight.
Daichi — his ever-useless seatmate — leaned over, eyes wide. "Bro. Bro. You're viral."
"I want to die."
"You're, like, romance anime viral."
Elliot glared at him. "What does that even mean."
Daichi shoved his phone in his face.
A clip. 20 seconds long.
Ami on stage, crying, Elliot stepping out of the shadows, handing her the mic.
Cut to the kiss backstage — somehow filmed through a side curtain.
Blurry. But clear enough.
Elliot's stomach dropped.
"Who—"
"Doesn't matter who," Daichi said, whispering. "Everyone's seen it. Even the upperclassmen. Dude, there's fanart already."
Elliot pressed his fingers to his temple. "I hate everyone."
⸻
Mizuki didn't say a word.
She walked in late. No wave. No bright "good morning." No teasing about tea or dreams or accents. Just sat down, eyes forward, hands neatly folded on her desk.
He turned toward her once.
She didn't turn back.
⸻
At lunch, he found her by the vending machines behind the gym.
Alone.
No laughter. No bento box this time.
He approached carefully, hands in his pockets.
"Mizuki."
Nothing.
He tried again. "About the weekend—"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Her tone wasn't angry. Just empty. That somehow made it worse.
"I wasn't— it wasn't—" he started, but couldn't finish.
She stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "You don't owe me an explanation, Elliot. You never did."
Then, softer:
"But it would've been nice to get one."
She walked past him, the faint smell of vanilla shampoo trailing behind.
⸻
By the time the final bell rang, the whole school had seen it.
Some congratulated him.
Some mocked him.
Others whispered in hallways, theories blooming like weeds.
When he opened his locker, a note fluttered out.
"Tell us the truth, Butler Boy — are you dating an idol?"
He crumpled it up and threw it away.
⸻
He found Reika on the roof.
She was where she always seemed to be when the world went wrong — leaning against the railing, hair tied up, watching the city spread out below like it was something she could light on fire.
"You're famous now," she said without turning around.
"Don't remind me."
"I don't need to. It's everywhere."
She held up her phone. The same clip.
Then dropped it to her side. "You look… different."
"Tired?"
"No. Visible."
He frowned. "Is that supposed to be poetic?"
"It's supposed to be a warning."
She turned to him then, eyes narrowed, wind catching the edge of her dyed hair.
"She's built for this, Elliot. You're not. The second this stops being her dream, it's going to eat you alive. You think she kissed you because she loves you? No. She kissed you because you're the one who made her feel real for a second."
He didn't answer.
Reika shrugged. "If you break Mizuki because you can't choose, I'll break you."
He snorted softly. "That a threat?"
"It's a promise."
⸻
Evening.
Empty classroom.
The festival decorations from last week still half-taped to the windows, faded under sunlight.
Elliot sat at his desk, scrolling through the storm of notifications on his phone.
@idolfeed_JP: "Rising star Ami Yuzuki's mystery manager — is love in the air?"
#YuzukiXGraves trending in Tokyo.
He turned off the screen. Put the phone face-down.
In his bag, something crinkled.
He reached in and pulled it out — a small bento box, neatly wrapped in pink cloth.
The one Mizuki had dropped that night behind the venue.
Inside: rice shaped into little stars, now cold and dry.
And a folded piece of paper tucked beneath.
He opened it.
"You never told me you shine too."
He stared at it until the words blurred.
⸻
The street outside the school was quiet when he finally left.
That's when he saw it.
A poster on the side of a vending machine — fresh, glossy, catching the glow of the neon sign above.
Ami Yuzuki — Idol Showcase: Rising Stars of Yokohama
Featuring exclusive behind-the-scenes footage. Special guest: Manager Elliot Graves.
He blinked.
Read it again.
Then said it aloud, flatly:
"…I'm going to kill her."