Chapter 4.5
by Need_More_SleepChapter 4.5: It’s Not Over Yet
Being an idol wasn’t a simple job. It meant conveying love, hope, and warmth to fans through one’s smile.
While delivering flawless performances, one also had to maintain a perfect personal image.
Professionalism and clean interpersonal relationships were often fans’ baseline demands for their idols.
Clearly, Shimizu Sakuya—as a top idol—had already crossed that unforgivable red line.
At 1 a.m., she was tangled in bed with Ayase Aoi, locked in a fervent kiss. By 4:30, she was supposed to be at the TV station for makeup, preparing for a music show recording.
“Mm… s-stop, please… I have to go to the station by four…” Shimizu begged, her voice hoarse and choked with sobs.
Despite being the one in control, Aoi’s eyes were as hollow as a broken doll’s.
She pressed a slightly damp fingertip to Shimizu’s lips, licking her own before whispering, “Shh. It’s not over yet.”
Suddenly, Shimizu realized—Aoi had awakened an S side she knew all too well.
The grandfather clock in the living room struck three.
The lights were still on. That was the only thing Shimizu could discern through the thin black veil covering her eyes.
A phone buzzed violently nearby—probably her manager, calling to demand why she wasn’t at the venue yet.
With weak, trembling hands, she groped along the edge of the bed, trying to reach the source of the sound.
Then, the warmth pressed against her vanished.
The chilly autumn air made her shiver. Most people would’ve found it unbearable, let alone someone as frail as her, still damp with sweat.
The buzzing grew louder. Aoi leaned down again, her breath hot against Shimizu’s ear as she murmured.
“Should I answer it?”
“Don’t just moan—use your words,” she teased, her fingertip tracing featherlight circles over Shimizu’s chest before gasping in mock realization.
“Ah~ I get it. Were you trying to say—’Sorry, manager, I can’t make it’?”
“But I’m not close with your manager. You should tell him yourself~”
The call connected.
Shimizu’s instincts screamed danger.
Even with her limbs weak, she slapped a hand over her mouth, refusing to let a single sound escape.
The room fell silent, save for her ragged breathing.
Her heart pounded so violently it threatened to burst.
“Hah, just kidding. Your phone’s been off this whole time. Let’s reschedule today’s recording~”
Shimizu exhaled in relief—then froze.
Blindfolded, she realized two things.
One, she wasn’t going to the music show.
Two… this wasn’t ending anytime soon.
Damn my weak constitution.
The night lingered, dawn still distant. The clock read 4:48.
Soft fingers finally untied the blindfold. The first thing she saw was a gilded floor mirror, its frame shaped like a birdcage. In its reflection, she sat on a chair, her pale skin flushed pink.
Her gaze darted helplessly before she gave up and shut her eyes.
Aoi straddled her lap, her right arm looping around Shimizu’s slender neck as she bit her shoulder and growled.
“Open your eyes.”
When Shimizu turned away, evasive, Aoi was reminded of herself—pinned against the wall not long ago.
A mocking smile curled her lips as she forcibly tilted Shimizu’s chin up, thumb brushing her heated cheek.
“Remember this moment…”
……
Shimizu felt like she was drowning in turbulent waves, tossed between crushing depths and suffocating surges.
Or perhaps she was a dying whale, sinking into the abyss, waiting for the end.
Strangled. Darkness and currents swallowed her whole. She thrashed, screamed—but only silence answered.
When driftwood finally appeared, the drowning had no choice but to cling to it for survival.
……
People were complex, shifting forms with time.
Before the cameras—before the public—Ayase Aoi was the brilliant, flawless ojou-sama, the infallible superstar.
Alone, she became a cold, selfish puppeteer, gazing down at the chessboard of life.
Many had seen these two faces.
But only Shimizu had witnessed her groveling in the dirt, weak and yielding.
After tonight, no one would ever see that version of her again.
Maybe change will be for the best.