Chapter Text
The swimming pool was supposed to be a place of chill fun.
This was a lie.
No location inside Tokyo was ever truly chill, but the pool attracted idols. And idols, by nature, could turn any open space into either a summer event, a music video, or a sponsorship opportunity.
Chika Takami stood at the edge of the large pool with a trash net in hand, scooping plastic cups from the water.
She lifted one cup, then another, then a third.
She stared at the cups with the righteous exhaustion of a girl who had personally decided fun was going to happen whether the pool was ready or not.
“Okay!” Chika declared. “That’s the last of them!”
A plastic cup floated past her ankle.
Kanan Matsuura, already in the water, pointed. “You missed one.”
Chika snatched it with the net. “Okay! Now that’s the last of them!”
Another cup drifted out from behind a floatie.
Chika’s eye twitched.
Mari Ohara, lounging on the steps in sunglasses, lifted one hand. “Maybe the cups are multiplying, yes?”
Chika slapped the net down. “Nope! Done! Pool party time!”
The declaration worked like a stage cue.
Yui Hirasawa jumped in first, yelling, “Cannonball!” with no regard for guitarists, idols, or basic physics.
Kasumi Toyama followed with a scream of pure starry enthusiasm. “Pool party! Kira-kira! Doki-doki! Splash-splash!”
Azusa Nakano, standing safely at the side, muttered, “That last one is not part of the brand.”
Hibiki Ganaha zipped past wearing a shark costume, the fin sticking up from her back.
She dove under the water, and a moment later, the fin surfaced.
Several idols screamed.
Hibiki burst up from the water, laughing. “Shark attack!”
Makoto Kikuchi stared at her. “Hibiki, you are wearing a fabric shark costume in a swimming pool.”
Hibiki grinned. “And it works!”
Here is an expanded replacement passage for the pool-party section, with the requested character interactions woven into the scene:
Nearby, a water chicken fight had already begun.
Rin Hoshizora sat on Hanayo Koizumi’s shoulders, both fists raised triumphantly over her head, her wet hair sticking up in a way that made her look even more feline than usual.
Across from them, Rina Tennoji was perched neatly on Ai Miyashita’s shoulders, wearing a waterproof version of her Rina-chan Board strapped safely over her face.
The board displayed two sharp little eyes and the words: POOL WAR MODE.
Ai bounced lightly in the water, steadying Rina with both hands. “Let’s go, Rinarii! Show them the power of perfect teamwork!”
Rina lifted a small waterproof paddle as though it were a sacred battle fan. “Rina-chan Board says: no mercy.”
Hanayo made a tiny panicked sound. “R-Rin-chan, please don’t move too much! I-I don’t think I’m built for cavalry combat!”
Rin leaned forward dramatically and pointed at their opponents. “Nya! Victory for rice!”
Hanayo blinked. “Rice?”
Rin looked down at her with an enormous grin. “Kayo-chin loves rice, Rin loves Kayo-chin, therefore Rin fights for rice!”
Hanayo’s face turned bright red, even with half of it hidden by splashing water. “R-Rin-chan, you can’t just say things like that in the middle of battle!”
“Sure Rin can!”
Rin leaned down and gave the top of Hanayo’s wet hair a quick affectionate pat. “Kayo-chin is Rin’s strongest battle mount!”
Hanayo squeaked. “I-I would rather be called your partner!”
Rin froze, then her expression softened.
“Okay.”
She gently wrapped her arms around Hanayo’s head, careful not to cover her eyes. “My strongest partner.”
Hanayo’s whole face went pink.
For exactly one sentimental second, she forgot they were supposed to be fighting.
Ai saw her opportunity immediately. “Rinarii! Now!”
Rina lifted her paddle. “Emotional opening detected.”
She lightly tapped Rin’s inflatable pool noodle aside.
Rin gasped. “Betrayed by romance!”
Hanayo gave a startled laugh, wobbling underneath her. “Rin-chan, hold on!”
Rin tried to recover, but Hanayo took one nervous step backward, slipped slightly, and the two toppled into the water together with a splash.
Ai threw one arm into the air. “Victory for Ai-Rina!”
Rina’s board switched to: WINNER. PEACE SIGN.
Rina raised both hands in tiny peace signs.
A moment later, Rin surfaced with her arms still wrapped around Hanayo.
Hanayo emerged beside her, coughing softly and pushing wet bangs from her eyes.
Rin stared at her for one second, then giggled. “Kayo-chin looks cute all soaked.”
Hanayo turned even redder. “R-Rin-chan!”
Rin grinned and hugged her around the shoulders. “Losing is okay if Rin gets to fall with Kayo-chin, nya!”
Hanayo tried very hard to look upset. She failed.
A few feet away, Yui Hirasawa had seen the whole defeat and responded with the seriousness of a war correspondent. “Azu-nyan!”
Azusa Nakano, who had been sitting on the pool edge with only her legs in the water, looked over suspiciously.
“No.”
Yui blinked. “I haven’t said anything yet.”
“I know that voice.”
Yui waddled through the shallow water toward her, holding a bright pink inflatable ring shaped like a frosted doughnut. “We should join the chicken fight!”
“No.”
“It would be adorable!”
“No.”
“I could sit on your shoulders!”
“Absolutely not!”
Yui paused, then smiled sweetly. “Or Azu-nyan could sit on mine.”
Azusa’s cheeks blushed. “That’s not the issue!”
Yui pressed the inflatable doughnut against Azusa’s lap. “Look! It has sprinkles. It was made for you.”
Azusa stared at it. “It was made for children.”
Yui tilted her head. “Azu-nyan-sized children?”
Azusa’s eyebrow twitched. “You are doing this on purpose.”
“Doing what?”
“Being impossible to refuse while also being incredibly annoying.”
Yui beamed. “That means I’m charming!”
Before Azusa could protest, Yui took her hand and gently tugged. “Come on. Just into the shallow end. I promise I won’t splash you.”
Azusa narrowed her eyes. “You promise?”
Yui nodded very seriously. “Cross my heart and hope to lose cake privileges.”
Azusa gasped. “That serious?”
“Extremely.”
Azusa sighed, slid off the edge, and stepped into the water.
Yui’s face brightened like she had just won a national championship. “Azu-nyan is swimming with me!”
“I am standing with you.”
“Swimming emotionally!”
From the shallow end, Kasumi Toyama suddenly snapped her head around. “Hey! That’s my phrase!”
Yui waved. “It’s a good phrase!”
Azusa groaned. “Now there are two of them.”
Yui gently placed the doughnut float around Azusa’s waist.
Azusa looked down at herself, then up at Yui. “Yui-senpai.”
“Yes?”
“This is ridiculous.”
Yui smiled. “You’re cute.”
Azusa’s entire complaint stalled in her throat.
Yui leaned forward and poked one of the inflatable sprinkles. “See? Azu-nyan doughnut.”
Azusa looked away, ears red. “I suppose....it is a little comfortable.”
Yui gasped. “She admits it!”
“Quiet!”
Yui laughed and wrapped her arms around the float from behind, resting her chin lightly on Azusa’s shoulder.
Azusa stiffened. “Y-Yui-senpai?”
“I’m helping you float.”
“I am standing.”
“I’m helping you stand floatily.”
Azusa let out a long sigh, but she did not move away.
At the shallow end, Shifune Tsuzuki stood with her arms folded, watching Kasumi Toyama waddle around the pool wearing bright inflatable floaties on both arms.
Kasumi beamed. “Look, Shifune-san! I’m swimming!”
Shifune stared. “You are walking.”
Kasumi stopped mid-waddle. “With swimming feelings.”
“I’m not seeing your desire to swim.”
Kasumi gasped like she had been struck by artistic criticism directly in the heart. “My desire is huge!”
“You are in water up to your knees.”
Kasumi looked down, then back up. “My knees are swimming.”
Shifune pinched the bridge of her nose.
Before she could deliver another merciless evaluation, a voice from behind Kasumi called out.
“Kasumi, stop flailing before you trip over your own floaties.”
Arisa Ichigaya stood at the edge of the pool with a towel draped over one arm and a bottle of sunscreen in the other.
Kasumi whirled around so quickly that one of her floaties squeaked.
“Arisa!”
Arisa’s face reddened immediately. “Why are you saying my name like I just came back from war?”
“Because you came to watch me swim!”
“I came because you left your towel, your sunscreen, your water bottle, and your common sense behind.”
Kasumi’s eyes sparkled. “You brought me all those things?”
Arisa looked away. “Someone had to.”
Kasumi splashed happily toward her, which mostly meant taking quick little steps while her floaties bounced against the surface.
“Arisa is so thoughtful!”
“Don’t splash me!”
Kasumi stopped directly in front of her, water dripping from her hair. “Do you think I look like a professional swimmer?”
Arisa looked at the bright floaties, then at Kasumi’s proud expression, then at Shifune, who gave the slightest shake of her head.
Arisa sighed. “You look...”
Kasumi leaned forward eagerly.
Arisa’s voice dropped. “…cute.”
Kasumi’s eyes went starry.
Shifune raised an eyebrow.
Arisa immediately turned scarlet. “I mean stupid! You look stupidly cute! No, wait, that’s worse...”
Kasumi grabbed both of Arisa’s hands. “Arisa thinks I’m cute!”
“I said stop listening selectively!”
Kasumi tugged lightly. “Come swim with me!”
“No.”
“Please?”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
“You can put your feet in!”
“I don’t want to.”
Kasumi puffed out her cheeks. “Arisaaa…”
Arisa looked away, but a second later found herself looking back at Kasumi’s expectant face, then at her hands still being held.
Her resistance lasted six seconds.
“Fine,” Arisa muttered. “Only my feet.”
Kasumi cheered so loudly that several people turned.
Arisa sat on the pool edge and dipped her feet into the water.
Kasumi immediately moved beside her and leaned both elbows on Arisa’s knees, floaties squeaking with every movement.
Arisa looked down. “What are you doing?”
“Being happy you’re here.”
Arisa froze.
Kasumi smiled up at her.
For a moment, Arisa had no sarcastic answer ready. Then, she gently used the towel to dab water from Kasumi’s hair.
“You’re going to catch cold if you stay wet forever, idiot.”
Kasumi closed her eyes, smiling. “Then Arisa can warm me up later.”
Arisa nearly dropped the towel. “D-Don’t say things like that so casually!”
Shifune stared at them for a moment, then wrote something on her clipboard.
Kasumi noticed. “Did you see my desire to swim now?”
Shifune looked up. “No, but I saw your desire to flirt.”
Kasumi gasped.
Arisa covered her face with the towel.
Not far from them, Nico Yazawa stood beneath a parasol wearing oversized sunglasses and a frilled poolside cover-up, watching the entire scene with the expression of an idol who refused to admit she was having fun until contractual terms had been established.
Beside her, Maki Nishikino sat on a lounge chair, red hair tied loosely back, reading a magazine she had not turned the page of in several minutes.
Nico glanced toward the food table. “Where are Kotori’s chicken wings?”
Maki did not look up. “Why are you asking me?”
“Because she said you helped her get them.”
Maki finally lowered the magazine. “I recommended a supplier. I didn’t personally escort every chicken wing into the party.”
Nico crossed her arms. “Hmph. Sounds like rich-girl plausible deniability.”
Maki rolled her eyes. “You already ate three.”
Nico stiffened. “That was quality control.”
“You said they were ‘surprisingly acceptable.’”
“For Nico, that is high praise.”
Maki looked over the top of her magazine, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “You liked them.”
Nico tilted her chin. “Maybe I did. Don’t get smug.”
“I’m not smug.”
“You have your smug face on.”
“This is my normal face.”
“That explains a lot.”
Maki’s eyebrow twitched.
Nico grinned victoriously and started toward the pool.
“Anyway, Nico-Nii has decided to grace the water with her presence.”
Maki looked at the splashing idols, the chicken fight, Kasumi clinging to Arisa’s knees, and Yui using Azusa’s doughnut float as an excuse to hug her.
“You’re going in there?”
Nico put both hands on her hips. “What, are you scared?”
“I am not scared.”
“Then come with me.”
Maki paused.
Nico smirked.
“Oho? Maki-chan cannot swim without an invitation engraved on gold stationery?”
Maki stood immediately. “I can swim perfectly well.”
“Good. Then carry Nico into the pool.”
Maki stared. “What?”
Nico lifted one foot dramatically. “The ground is wet.”
“It is a pool.”
“And Nico is precious cargo.”
Maki sighed. “Nico-chan, you are impossible.”
Nico grinned. “And yet you keep following me around.”
Maki’s face colored. “I do not.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to enter the dangerous splash zone all alone.”
Nico took one exaggerated step toward the water.
A wave from the ongoing chicken fight splashed over the pool edge and soaked her legs.
Nico shrieked. “My outfit!”
Maki burst out laughing.
Nico turned, scandalized. “Maki-chan!”
Maki covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry. You just looked so dramatic.”
“Nico is dramatic with purpose!”
Still smiling, Maki reached out her hand. “Come on.”
Nico eyed it. “What?”
“You wanted to go into the pool.”
Nico looked at Maki’s offered hand.
Her indignation softened into something smaller and warmer.
She placed her hand in Maki’s. “Do not let go.”
Maki looked away, cheeks pink. “I wasn’t planning to.”
Nico smiled, and the two stepped carefully into the shallow water together.
Immediately, Rin spotted them from where she and Hanayo were recovering from their defeat.
“Nico-chan! Maki-chan! Join the rematch!”
Nico pointed proudly at herself. “Obviously! The legendary Nico Yazawa does not lose aquatic combat!”
Maki looked at her. “You lost to a splash five seconds ago.”
“That was a surprise attack!”
Rin paddled closer, grinning. “Maki-chan can carry Nico-chan!”
Maki choked.
Nico’s eyes gleamed. “That is an excellent idea.”
“No.”
“Maki-chan.”
“No.”
“Nico-Nii believes in you.”
“That makes me believe in myself less.”
Hanayo smiled shyly. “It could be fun, Maki-chan.”
Maki looked around.
Rin’s hopeful grin, Hanayo’s gentle smile, and Nico already holding both hands out expectantly.
Even Yui and Azusa were watching now, Yui silently mouthing, Do it!
Maki groaned. “Fine. Once.”
Nico raised both arms in victory. “Nico-Nico-Nii!”
A moment later, Nico sat proudly on Maki’s shoulders, pointing toward Rin and Hanayo like a tiny commanding general. “Prepare yourselves! The cutest idol in the universe has entered the battlefield!”
Maki gripped Nico’s legs to keep her steady. “Please don’t lean too far forward.”
Nico looked down at her. “What, worried about me?”
“I’m worried about drowning because you have no balance.”
Nico smiled, softer this time. “Maki-chan will catch me.”
Maki’s face went red.
Rin gasped loudly. “Kayo-chin! This has become a romance battle!”
Hanayo squeaked. “A romance battle?!”
Rina’s waterproof board, from across the pool, suddenly updated: SHIP WAR MODE.
Ai laughed so hard she nearly dropped her.
At the edge of the pool, Shifune stared at the entire scene: Rin cuddling Hanayo after falling into the water, Yui attached to Azusa’s doughnut float, Kasumi smiling up at a blushing Arisa, and Nico perched on Maki’s shoulders while Maki pretended not to enjoy herself.
She slowly lowered her clipboard.
Chika Takami hurried by with the trash net. “Everything okay, Shifune-san?”
Shifune watched Kasumi take Arisa’s hand and try to coax her one inch deeper into the pool.
Then she looked at the others. “I am seeing desire.”
Chika smiled. “To swim?”
Shifune paused. “No.”
Another splash erupted as Nico lunged at Rin, both of them shrieking, while Hanayo and Maki desperately tried not to topple over.
Yui cheered so loudly that Azusa had to grab her around the waist to stop her from charging into the battle.
Kasumi declared that she and Arisa were forming a support unit.
Arisa declared that they absolutely were not, while refusing to let go of Kasumi’s hand.
Shifune watched it all with a distant, resigned look.
“Something far more dangerous.”
Not far from the pool, a long folding table had been placed beneath a striped umbrella.
A handwritten sign taped to the front read:
POOL PARTY FOOD ZONE
Please Label Allergens And Personal Grudges
Ryo Yamada, Saki Nikaido, and Maya Tendo had somehow ended up in charge of the buffet.
This was a mistake for several different reasons.
Maya was arranging dishes with dignified theatrical precision, wearing disposable gloves as though they were part of an elegant stage costume. Every plate had been placed at exactly the correct angle, every napkin folded neatly, every skewer aligned as if the buffet were about to be judged by a panel of strict revue performers.
Saki, on the other hand, had turned food preparation into a street festival.
“Chicken over here!” she shouted, slapping a handwritten label in front of a large platter. “Sauce over there! Anyone who complains gets the spicy one without warning!”
Maya looked at her sharply. “That is not an acceptable food-service policy.”
“It builds character.”
“It builds liability.”
Ryo stood beside the cooler, expression blank, holding a bamboo skewer in one hand.
She took one bite, then another, then, with the solemnity of someone performing quality control for the greater good, she took a third.
Maya slowly turned toward her. “Yamada-san.”
Ryo stopped chewing. “Yes?”
“Were those intended for the guests?”
Ryo looked at the half-empty skewer, then at Maya. “No.”
Saki barked out a laugh. “You ate the evidence too slowly.”
Ryo calmly lowered the skewer into the trash. “The evidence was delicious.”
Sitting nearby on an upturned drink crate, Ichika Hoshino had her guitar case resting beside her feet and a stack of paper plates in her hands.
She had volunteered to help after realizing that Leo/need’s contribution to the pool party was apparently going to be “responsible background competence,” which was both useful and, in her opinion, slightly unfair.
Ichika carefully arranged cups beside a jug of lemonade. “Maybe we should move the desserts farther away from the grill food,” she suggested. “Otherwise the whipped cream might melt.”
Maya immediately nodded. “Excellent observation.”
Ryo looked at Ichika. “You are already the most functional person here.”
Ichika gave a small, awkward smile. “I don’t think the bar was very high.”
“Correct.”
Before Saki could defend the bar, a cheerful voice rang out from the direction of the entrance.
“Everyone! Keke has brought special pool party snacks!”
Keke Tang came hurrying toward the table, carrying two bright bags filled with colorful sweets, packaged treats, and star-shaped cookies.
Behind her walked Kanon Shibuya, carrying a large tray covered carefully in foil.
“Keke, slow down,” Kanon said. “You’re going to drop something.”
“Keke will not drop anything!” Keke declared proudly. “Keke is carrying food with the determination of school idol dreams!”
A small packet slipped from the top of one bag.
Kanon caught it before it hit the ground.
Keke turned. “Excellent teamwork, Kanon!”
Kanon sighed fondly. “Yes. Exactly as planned.”
Ichika looked up at Kanon and smiled. “Need help with that tray?”
Kanon brightened. “Oh, thanks.”
Ichika stood and took one side, helping her carefully set it down on the table.
“What did you bring?” Ichika asked.
Kanon peeled back the foil slightly. “Sandwiches. Nothing fancy. I thought people might want something simple after swimming.”
Ichika nodded approvingly. “Simple food is good.”
Kanon glanced at Ichika’s guitar case. “You brought your guitar?”
Ichika rubbed the back of her neck. “Just in case people want music later.”
Kanon smiled. “Same.”
She lifted the strap of the acoustic guitar bag resting against her shoulder.
For a brief moment, the noise of the pool party faded behind them.
Two lead singers, both used to finding their courage through music, looked at each other with the quiet recognition of people who knew exactly what it meant to carry a guitar to a social event “just in case.”
Ichika smiled a little more. “Maybe we can play something together later.”
Kanon’s expression warmed. “I’d like that.”
Keke, who had been arranging her snack bags into what she clearly believed was a magnificent display, spun around so fast that her ponytail flicked water droplets from a nearby cup.
“A collaboration?! Kanon and Ichika?! This will be historical!”
Kanon startled. “Keke, it’s just maybe one song.”
“One song is enough to change the destiny of idol music!”
Ichika laughed softly. “I’m not actually an idol.”
Keke gasped. “Not with that attitude!”
Ichika blinked.
Kanon covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Keke pointed dramatically at Ichika’s guitar. “You have guitar! You have pretty voice! You have main-character hair! You are at idol pool party! Keke knows the signs!”
Ichika looked at Kanon. “Does she always do this?”
Kanon smiled apologetically. “Only when she’s awake.”
“Hey!”
Just then, Kotori Minami approached the table, holding a large tray with both hands.
She moved with practiced grace, her white sunhat tilted neatly over her hair and a soft smile on her face.
“Everyone,” Kotori said sweetly, “I brought chicken wings.”
Keke’s eyes instantly lit up. “Chicken wings!”
She took one eager step forward.
Ryo lifted one hand. “No.”
Keke froze. “No?”
Ryo looked at Kotori’s tray, then at the table, then at the cooler, then back at the tray. “We have too much meat.”
Kotori blinked. “Too much?”
Saki slapped a hand against the platter she had brought. “I brought chicken.”
Maya lifted her tray with elegant seriousness. “I brought tenders.”
Kanon looked down at her sandwiches. “Mine have some chicken in them too...”
Keke looked betrayed. “Kanon! You contributed to meat imbalance?”
“They are sandwiches!”
“The balance has already tipped!”
Ryo opened the cooler. “I brought almost everything else.”
Inside were several packages of grilled skewers, smoked sausages, fried chicken bites, mystery meat buns, three cartons of yakitori, and one suspiciously expensive steak labeled, “DO NOT TELL NIJIKA.”
Ichika stared at the label. “Why can’t Nijika know?”
Ryo calmly shut the cooler. “She has principles.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“It explains too much.”
Ryo turned back to Kotori. “See? More meat will not round out the meal.”
Kotori’s smile tightened. “My chicken wings are world class.”
Keke raised both hands enthusiastically. “Keke believes Kotori-senpai! μ’s chicken wings must be legendary chicken wings!”
Kotori’s smile returned slightly. “Thank you, Keke-chan.”
Saki leaned over and inspected the wings. “They look well-aged.”
Kotori’s smile froze again. “Well-aged?”
Saki nodded solemnly. “Like, historically.”
Maya adjusted her gloves. “Are they safe?”
Kotori gasped. “Maki-chan would never give me unsafe chicken wings!”
Ryo looked at the tray. “That sentence does not answer the question.”
Ichika stepped closer and tried to give the wings a fair assessment. “They smell okay.”
Kotori’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Ichika-chan.”
Ichika quickly added, “I mean, I don’t know enough about chicken safety to be authoritative.”
Kotori’s smile fell again. “Sorry.”
Kanon looked between Kotori and the increasingly hostile food table.
She knew that look.
That was the look of someone who had arrived with something she cared about, expecting it to be welcomed, only to find herself standing in a conversation where everyone else had already decided her contribution was old news.
Kanon moved closer to the tray. “I think they look good.”
Kotori glanced at her. “Really?”
Kanon smiled. “Yes. Maybe we could put some out and see who wants them.”
Ryo reached under the table and brought out a large bowl. “This is something useful.”
It was salad. Some kind of carefully balanced dressing that looked suspiciously like Nijika had prepared it before Ryo took credit.
Kotori stared. “You brought salad?”
Ryo nodded. “Green food has utility.”
Keke clasped both hands to her cheeks. “Salad is not exciting pool party food!”
Ryo pointed at the mountain of meat. “It becomes exciting when it prevents scurvy.”
Kanon frowned. “Does salad prevent scurvy?”
Ichika said quietly, “I think citrus is more useful for that.”
Ryo looked at the lemonade. “Then the drinks are useful too.”
Maya smiled faintly. “At last, nutrition has entered the performance.”
Saki picked up one of Kotori’s wings with a pair of tongs and inspected it as if it were an artifact uncovered from an ancient concert venue. “Honestly? Just throw these in the retirement home.”
Kotori’s mouth fell open. “The retirement home?”
Keke gasped so loudly that two people in the pool turned around. “No! You cannot say retirement home to μ’s food!”
Saki shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because μ’s are legends!” Keke cried. “Legends do not retire! Legends shine forever! Legends get preserved in museums and watched with tears and glow sticks!”
Ryo considered this. “So put the wings in a museum.”
“Keke did not mean the chicken!”
Kotori hugged the tray slightly closer to herself.
Saki nodded toward the food. “Look, I’m just saying. Where old idol food goes when newer food gets better camera angles.”
The words hung there.
Kotori’s face fell.
Not enough that most people would have noticed, but Kanon did, and Keke did too.
Ichika, who had spent enough time watching people hide loneliness behind normal expressions, did as well.
At the pool, everyone was laughing.
Somewhere, Kasumi squealed as Arisa told her not to splash.
A water chicken fight erupted into cheers.
Music played softly from somebody’s portable speaker.
But at the food table, Kotori looked down at the wings she had brought with Maki’s help, as if they had become evidence in a trial about whether her era still mattered.
In the pool, Kumiko Oumae and Reina Kousaka lounged together on a sizeable floatie shaped like a golden swan.
Kumiko wore sunglasses and looked entirely too relaxed for someone who was usually one rehearsal away from emotional turbulence.
Reina lay beside her, staring at the sky with elegant intensity.
“This floatie is ridiculous,” Reina said.
Kumiko smiled. “Yeah.”
“Too large.”
“Definitely.”
“It lacks subtlety.”
“Completely.”
Reina adjusted her sunglasses. “I like it.”
Kumiko laughed softly.
Across the pool, Mari Ohara and Kanan Matsuura played water polo with the seriousness of an Olympic final and the nonsense energy of two people who had never agreed on what the rules were.
“Kanan!” Mari shouted. “You cannot just swim under me and steal the ball!”
Kanan popped up with the ball in hand. “That’s how water works.”
“That is not how rules work!”
Kanan threw the ball.
It splashed directly into Mari’s face.
Mari surfaced, hair stuck to her cheeks. “Shiny foul!”
At the side of the pool, a small island of comparative quiet had formed beneath a wide sun umbrella.
Akito Shinonome leaned against the back of a lounge chair, arms folded, watching the chaos with his usual look of mild judgment.
Beside him, Ena Shinonome sat sideways on another lounge chair with her knees drawn up, scrolling through photos on her phone. She had already taken at least twenty pictures of the pool party.
A few feet away, Kanade Yoisaki sat beneath the umbrella with a loose hooded cover-up pulled over her swimsuit, looking as though direct sunlight had personally betrayed her.
Mafuyu Asahina sat beside her.
Her posture was neat, her smile gentle, her pale blue cover-up arranged perfectly around her shoulders. To anyone looking from across the pool, Mafuyu appeared to be enjoying a perfectly ordinary summer afternoon.
Kanade knew better.
Every few moments, Mafuyu’s gaze drifted toward the pool.
Toward the laughter.
Toward the groups splashing each other with effortless delight.
She watched as though she were studying a language she had been expected to speak fluently without ever being taught what the words meant.
Kanade noticed.
She did not say anything immediately. Instead, she carefully nudged the second cold drink sitting on the table toward Mafuyu.
Mafuyu looked down. “For me?”
Kanade nodded. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
Mafuyu smiled politely. “Thank you, Kanade.”
She picked up the cup.
A small decorative umbrella had been stuck into the lid. It was bright pink and shaped like a tiny star.
Mafuyu stared at it.
Kanade looked suddenly anxious. “Sorry. They only had drinks with decorations. I can take it off.”
“No.”
Kanade paused.
Mafuyu touched the little paper star gently with one fingertip. “It’s cute.”
Kanade blinked.
Then lowered her eyes, the faintest softness appearing in her expression. “Yeah.”
Mafuyu took a sip. The drink was sweet. Probably much sweeter than she would normally choose.
But Kanade had brought it to her without asking her to perform enjoyment, gratitude, or any particular version of herself.
So Mafuyu took another sip.
Ena looked up from her phone just in time to see it.
Her expression softened.
Then, realizing she had been caught caring, she immediately lifted her phone. “Hold still.”
Kanade startled. “What?”
Ena snapped a picture.
Mafuyu tilted her head. “What was that for?”
Ena checked the image. “Evidence that you two are capable of attending a pool party without sitting there like the cover art for an emotionally devastating song.”
Akito glanced over. “That seems unlikely.”
Ena glared. “No one asked you.”
Kanade looked down at her drink. “We’re trying.”
Mafuyu turned toward her, moving the small paper star umbrella from her own drink and carefully tucking it into the edge of Kanade’s cup lid instead.
Kanade stared at it. “Mafuyu?”
Mafuyu gave her the same gentle smile as before, but this time there was something less rehearsed inside it. “Now we’re trying together.”
Ena looked at the photo she had just taken, then at the two of them, then quietly took another picture without announcing it.
Akito noticed. “You’re taking pictures of them now?”
Ena lowered the phone. “They’re photogenic.”
Akito raised an eyebrow. “You called their last group photo ‘emotionally concerning.’”
“It was emotionally concerning in a photogenic way.”
Mafuyu looked toward Ena. “Are you going to post those?”
Ena hesitated.
Normally, she would have said yes immediately.
The lighting was good, the umbrella framed them nicely, and Kanade’s surprised expression next to Mafuyu’s slight smile had the kind of soft composition that would do very well online.
But Kanade looked small and comfortable beneath the umbrella, and Mafuyu still had her hand near Kanade’s cup, like she had forgotten to move it away.
Ena locked her phone. “No.”
Kanade relaxed. “They’re just for us.”
Mafuyu studied her for a moment, then smiled. “Thank you, Ena.”
Ena looked away quickly. “Whatever. Don’t make it weird.”
Akito let out a quiet breath, then looked at Ena. “Hey.”
Ena was still reviewing her pictures. “What?”
“Since we’re all here, you want to actually have a good time in Singapore?”
Ena looked up slowly. “What?”
Akito shrugged, trying hard to make it sound like the most casual suggestion in the world. “I know some places.”
Ena narrowed her eyes. “You know places?”
“Yes.”
“Places that aren’t just food stalls or locations where you complain about music?”
Akito paused. “…Some of them have food.”
Ena sighed. “You are impossible.”
Then, from the far side of the grounds, a motor roared.
Akito looked up first. “What is that?”
Ena sat straighter. “That better not be what I think it is.”
A jet ski burst into view.
Honoka Kousaka rode it with both hands raised in delighted victory. “WOOOO! POOL PARTY!”
Ena’s eyes widened. “My phone!”
Akito grabbed Ena’s lounge chair and yanked it backward just as a wave crashed over the edge of the pool.
Ena lifted her phone above her head with a shriek.
Kanade froze as the water surged toward them.
Mafuyu immediately leaned over her, raising her towel like a small and completely ineffective shield.
The splash struck.
When it passed, everyone sat drenched.
Ena’s phone had survived, but Akito’s shirt had not.
Kanade’s hood drooped wetly over her hair.
Mafuyu’s towel hung soaked from both hands.
There was silence.
Honoka waved from the jet ski. “Hi!”
Kumiko pushed her wet hair out of her face.
“Not to be negative,” she said, “but I think Honoka’s jet ski is too big for this pool.”
Honoka slowed the jet ski and tilted her head. “Maybe the pool is too small for my jet ski.”
Ena, soaked and dead-eyed, said, “That’s the same thing.”
Honoka beamed. “Exactly! We’re on the same page!”
Ena stared. “No, we’re not.”
Honoka clasped her hands. “I hope we can become friends!”
Ena looked at Akito.
Akito shrugged. “She seems positive.”
“She nearly drowned my phone.”
“Positive people can be dangerous.”
Just then, You Watanabe climbed onto the diving board.
Kanan swam beneath it, grinning.
Someone shouted, “Diving competition!”
The pool crowd immediately shifted attention.
You saluted. “Yousoro!”
Kanan rolled her shoulders. “Let’s see it.”
You launched herself off the board in a clean, elegant dive, slicing into the water with barely a splash.
The crowd cheered.
Kanan climbed up next, dove with powerful precision, and resurfaced to louder cheers.
Soon everyone gathered around them, cheering, judging, and arguing about splash size, style points, and whether idol training should include Olympic diving.
Honoka remained on the jet ski, smiling.
Then she noticed that nobody was looking at her anymore.
At the food table, Kotori stood with her tray of chicken wings.
Nobody was eating them.
They were all watching You and Kanan.
The pool party continued.
Honoka and Kotori stood quietly at the edge of the noise.
Interview Clip: Honoka Kousaka
Honoka sat in the confessional chair wearing a towel over her shoulders. She smiled at first, then her smile softened.
“You know, μ’s used to be treated like queens of the world.”
A pause.
“We were everywhere. Songs, concerts, mobile games, merch, memes, cosplay, covers. People talked about us like we were the idol anime.”
She looked down at her hands.
“And now...”
Another pause.
“Now there are so many idol groups. So many music anime. So many new girls with better animation, bigger budgets, flashier apps, stronger international pushes...”
Honoka laughed weakly. “I’m happy for them. Really.”
Her fingers tightened around the towel. “But sometimes I think about fading into obscurity.”
She looked back at the camera. “And I don’t like it.”
Later, Kotori found Honoka in the basement.
This was never a good sign.
Honoka stood before a punching bag wearing boxing gloves.
She punched it.
Once, twice, three times.
Each hit landed with more frustration than strength.
Pasted across the punching bag were pictures of newer idol and music characters
Kasumi Toyama, Hitori Gotoh, Mafuyu Asahina, Ichika Hoshino.
Kotori stopped at the doorway. “Honoka-chan.”
Honoka froze, then slowly lowered her gloves. “Kotori-chan...”
Kotori walked closer.
She looked at the photos, then at Honoka.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Honoka swallowed. “I know it’s bad.”
Kotori said nothing.
“I know they didn’t do anything wrong.”
Kotori still said nothing.
Honoka’s eyes lowered. “I just...I don’t want to be forgotten.”
The basement was quiet.
Then Kotori picked up the spare boxing gloves on the floor.
Honoka blinked. “Kotori-chan?”
Kotori slipped them on. “I understand.”
Honoka’s eyes widened.
Kotori stepped beside her.
“Being happy for newer idols does not mean it never hurts.”
Honoka stared.
Kotori lifted her fists. “I want people to still cherish us.”
She punched the bag.
“I want international fans to remember we mattered.”
Another punch.
“I want people to say our names like icons, not homework.”
Honoka’s face tightened. She turned back to the bag.
“Yeah.”
She punched. “We opened doors.”
Kotori punched. “We built stages.”
Honoka punched harder. “We were queens.”
Kotori’s voice trembled. “We were loved.”
Together, they struck the bag.
Again, and again, and again.
The pictures shook.
The basement lights flickered.
Neither noticed.
Honoka hit the bag one more time.
Kotori’s punch connected at the same moment.
Their gloves struck the exact same spot.
Suddenly, a thin glowing line appeared in the air where their punches landed.
Honoka froze.
Kotori froze.
The punching bag slowly swung backward.
The crack widened, and blue-white light spilled out.
Honoka whispered, “Kotori-chan.”
Kotori whispered back, “Honoka-chan.”
The space-time glitch pulsed, and a cosmic rift opened beneath them.
Both girls screamed as the floor vanished.
The basement stretched into light.
Honoka and Kotori hurtled through a tunnel of colors, music notes, stage lights, floating phone app icons, broken rhythm-game combo counters, idol logos, alternate timelines and retired costumes
Honoka spun through the void. “WHAT IS THIS?!”
Kotori flailed beside her. “WHY DID WE PUNCH IT?!”
They tumbled past a universe where school idols were trained by military drill instructors.
Past another where every idol group was legally required to have one vampire.
Past another where every band anime was just Bocchi alone in a room staring at a guitar for twelve episodes.
Past one where μ’s had never disbanded and were currently on their forty-seventh “final” live.
Honoka reached for Kotori’s hand, and Kotori grabbed it.
The rift flashed, then both girls slammed onto a floor.
“Ow...” Honoka groaned.
Kotori lay beside her, hair messy. “That was weird.”
Honoka sat up.
They were in a basement, apparently, but everything looked cleaner, sleeker and more expensive.
Honoka rubbed her head. “Maybe we just fell over?”
Kotori slowly sat up. “Through space-time?”
“Maybe it was a very emotional fall.”
Kotori looked around. “I think we should head back upstairs.”
Honoka nodded quickly. “Yes. Upstairs. Pool party. Normal. No more punching reality.”
They climbed the stairs.
At first, everything seemed familiar.
Same hallway shape, same staircase, and the same house layout.
But then they noticed the walls.
The hallway was covered with corporate idol branding.
Huge glossy posters lined every surface.
Not cheerful fan posters, not homemade decorations, but advertisements, contracts, logos, partnership announcements.Perfume campaigns, luxury fashion shoots and streaming statistics.
There were even billboards declaring: IDOLS ARE NOT PEOPLE. IDOLS ARE PLATFORMS.
Honoka slowed. “Kotori-chan...”
Kotori stared at a wall-sized banner showing smiling idol girls holding identical branded water bottles. “This is not our hallway.”
They crept forward.
From one room came the sound of applause.
Honoka and Kotori peeked inside.
Kanon Shibuya sat at a long glass table, smiling brightly.
Too brightly.
In front of her lay a thick contract.
Across from her stood Keke, Chisato, Sumire and Ren, dressed in impeccable stagewear, smiling with the calm power of global superstardom.
A corporate representative slid a pen toward Kanon.
“Congratulations, Kanon Shibuya. Your new six-year contract with XG Entertainment begins immediately.”
Kanon’s eyes sparkled with professional enthusiasm.
“This is so exciting,” she said.
Her voice sounded like a commercial.
Honoka’s jaw dropped.
Kotori whispered, “Six years?”
Kanon signed, and her friends applauded.
One of the representatives said, “Remember, Kanon. Your voice is important. Your identity is important. But most important of all...”
The others smiled in unison.
“Brand consistency.”
Kanon nodded. “Brand consistency.”
Honoka clutched the doorframe. “Kanon-chan, no...”
Kotori whispered, “Who let the corporate clans in here?”
Honoka shook her head. “I don’t think this is our here.”
They backed away before anyone saw them.
Further down the hall, camera flashes burst from another room.
Honoka and Kotori peeked in.
Ayumu Uehara and Shizuku Osaka stood in retro-style outfits beneath studio lights.
Ayumu wore a vintage cardigan and skirt combination, styled to look casually nostalgic but clearly assembled by a team of thirty professionals.
Shizuku wore a classic film-star-inspired outfit, complete with gloves, pearls, and a look of theatrical perfection that would have made her usual self deeply conflicted between admiration and panic.
Kasumi Nakasu stood behind the camera, checking the shots.
Karin Asaka adjusted the lighting.
Setsuna Yuki stood near the wardrobe rack, studying the outfits like they were part of a museum exhibition.
Kasumi lowered the camera. “Good. Very good. Remember, we’re an idol group.”
Ayumu smiled. “Right.”
Shizuku nodded. “Of course.”
Kasumi lifted one finger. “But more importantly...”
Karin and Setsuna spoke with her: “A lifestyle brand.”
Ayumu and Shizuku repeated, “ A lifestyle brand.”
Honoka’s eyes widened.
Kotori whispered, “That sounded rehearsed.”
Kasumi smiled.
“Again from the top. More longing. More nostalgia. Less personal identity.”
Shizuku nodded professionally.
Ayumu’s smile flickered for half a second.
Then the camera flashed again.
Honoka pulled Kotori away. “What is going on?”
“I don’t know.”
They hurried down the corridor.
Every room showed another strange scene.
Sakura Minamoto from Franchouchou sat in a branding seminar titled: UNDEAD IDOLS, LIVE MARKET VALUE.
Hitori Gotoh stood frozen in front of a sponsor board while a manager told her that anxiety tested well with key demographics.
Mafuyu Asahina stared blankly as three executives debated whether “trauma-core” could be turned into a fragrance line.
Kasumi Toyama pointed at a document and asked whether “dreams” counted as taxable assets.
A stern voice replied, “Only if monetized.”
Honoka’s breathing quickened.
Kotori reached for her hand.
They reached the main hall.
The room that should have been their living room had transformed into something enormous and cold.
A golden emblem hung above the staircase.
ULTIMATE IDOL ASSOCIATION
Below it, in smaller text:
FAME. MONEY. STATUS. FOREVER.
The hall was filled with idols, musicians, managers, corporate representatives, stylists, investors, brand consultants, and camera crews.
No one was laughing.
No one was lounging around in floaties.
No one was stealing snacks from food tables.
No one was singing just because they wanted to.
Everyone moved with sharp purpose, every conversation sounded like a deal, and every smile looked sponsored.
Honoka and Kotori stood frozen at the entrance.
Kotori gripped Honoka’s hand tighter.
Honoka stared at the golden emblem.
Ultimate Idol Association.
“Fame. Money. Status. Forever.”
Honoka thought of the pool party.
Chika cleaning cups with stubborn joy, Kasumi waddling with floaties, Kumiko and Reina on the ridiculous swan, Kotori’s chicken wings, and You and Kanan diving while everyone cheered.
She thought of μ’s, of school rooftops, of handmade costumes, of training until their legs hurt and of singing because they had to save something they loved.
She swallowed. “This is a multiverse situation.”
Kotori looked at her.
Honoka’s voice dropped. “And if this is a multiverse situation...”
She looked around at the cold, glittering hall.
“...we’re going to have a lot to worry about.”
Kotori’s eyes widened. “Honoka-chan?”
Honoka looked at the staircase.
At the executives, at the contracts, at the idols smiling like brands.
Then she squeezed Kotori’s hand. “We need to find out how to get home.”
“And maybe...”
Kotori looked at her.
Honoka’s eyes sharpened. “Maybe we need to remind this universe what idols are supposed to be.”
Above them, the golden emblem gleamed.
Somewhere deep inside the Ultimate Idol Association, a stage began to rise.
And from the speakers, a polished corporate voice announced: “Prepare for performance evaluation.“
Honoka and Kotori stood side by side.
They were school idols lost in a universe that had forgotten the school part.
The lights dimmed, the cameras turned, and the multiverse situation officially began.