Eternal Bloom had become a sensation. Despite being Celestial's first bald, the song was climbing charts and achieving record-breaking sales. The soft melody paired with heartfelt lyrics resonated deeply with fans, earning praise from critics and casual listeners alike. Yet, there was no time to bask in their success. With the promotional activities concluding, the members barely had a moment to catch their breath before preparing for the next big milestone: their first nationwide tour.

  The manager gathered the group for a meeting te one evening. "We'll kick off the tour on the 5th of September in Nagoya," he began, pointing to a detailed itinerary on the screen behind him. "Followed by Osaka on the 7th, Fukuoka on the 11th, Sapporo on the 15th, Yokohama on the 18th, and finally, Tokyo on the 20th and 21st. The Tokyo shows will be the grand finale, so we need to make a sting impression."

  He paused to meet their eyes, a mix of encouragement and urgency in his tone. "This is our first nationwide tour. The public and the media will be watching closely. I hope all of you will maintain your health and focus. We'll provide everything you need to succeed, but the effort has to come from you. Let’s make this tour unforgettable. That’s all for now—thank you."

  The members nodded, their faces a mix of excitement and apprehension. The meeting wrapped up, but none of them headed home. The clock read 9 p.m., yet their night was far from over.

  In the practice room, the air buzzed with tension and determination. The performance director cpped her hands sharply, signaling the beginning of another grueling session. "One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four!" Her voice echoed as the group moved in unison, beads of sweat already forming on their brows.

  "Minami, you're stretching too far. Hikari, you're off-beat again! Start over. From the top!"

  Their breath came in gasps, the strain evident on their faces, but they didn’t falter. Over and over, they repeated the choreography, each mistake met with firm correction.

  "Ayumi, you’re te! Minami, move closer to the center! Focus, girls—again!"

  The relentless pace left them drenched and breathless. After what felt like hours, the director finally called for a break. "Good work. Take ten minutes, and then we’ll go again."

  The members colpsed onto the floor like marionettes with their strings cut. Ayumi sprawled out, groaning dramatically. "Oh my god, this is the most intense practice we’ve ever had. I swear I’m going to pass out."

  "You’re not wrong," Hikari chimed in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let’s hope all this effort pays off during the tour."

  Mirei, despite her exhaustion, made her way to the cooler and grabbed bottles of water. Her legs felt like jelly, but she managed to carry them back to her teammates.

  "You're a lifesaver, Mirei," Ayumi decred, reaching for a bottle with exaggerated gratitude. "I love you! Let me give you a kiss as thanks."

  "Stop it, Ayumi!" Mirei ughed, pushing Ayumi away with mock annoyance. "No thank you!"

  "Pfft, you don’t know what you’re missing," Ayumi teased, pouting dramatically.

  Hikari joined in on the joke. "Give me a kiss instead, Ayumi!"

  "Absolutely not! I don’t like you like that," Ayumi shot back, sticking out her tongue.

  Their pyful banter filled the room, lightening the heavy atmosphere. Mirei and Emi couldn’t help but ugh at the duo’s antics. Ayumi and Hikari had always been the mood-makers, their energy a balm for the group’s weary spirits.

  Minami, who had been silently observing, shook her head with a small smile. "You two are ridiculous."

  Mirei handed her a bottle of water. "Here, Minami. You need this more than anyone."

  "Thanks," Minami said softly, taking a sip. She hesitated for a moment before gncing at Mirei. "Mirei..."

  The hesitation in her voice caught Mirei’s attention. "What is it?"

  "Do you think we’ll be okay?" Minami asked, her voice trembling slightly. "I mean... can we really pull this off?"

  Mirei’s expression softened. She pced a reassuring hand on Minami’s shoulder. "We’ve worked so hard to get here. We just have to believe in ourselves. Confidence is half the battle."

  Minami nodded, her fears easing slightly under Mirei’s calm assurance. "You’re right," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

  "And remember," Mirei added with a small smile, "we’ve overcome so much to reach this point. We’ll be fine. Just trust in what we’ve built together."

  Minami looked at Mirei with quiet admiration. In moments like this, Mirei’s strength and unwavering belief felt like a beacon, guiding them all forward.

  Before the conversation could continue, the director cpped her hands again. "Break’s over! Back on your feet, dies!"

  The members groaned in unison but obeyed, dragging themselves upright. The practice resumed, the intensity of the routine pushing them to their limits. Each step, each turn, each note demanded their utmost focus and energy.

  For Mirei, every movement carried a deeper weight. As she danced, she couldn’t help but think of Kaede. Would she come to see the concert? Would she be proud of what Mirei had achieved? The thought both motivated and haunted her.

  But with it came guilt—a guilt that lingered no matter how much she tried to rationalize it. She had chosen her career over their retionship, convinced it was the right thing to do. Mirei had told herself that ending things cleanly would make it easier for Kaede to move on.

  And yet... the regret gnawed at her.

  Did I make the right choice? she wondered, her movements faltering slightly before she forced herself to focus again. She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. There’s no room for doubt now.

  The session stretched te into the night, the members pushing themselves to the brink. Each of them bore the weight of their own fears and aspirations, but they shared a singur goal: to make their first tour a triumph.

  As they left the practice room, drenched in sweat and utterly spent, Mirei gnced at the city lights outside the window. Somewhere out there, Kaede was living her life, far removed from the chaos of the idol world.

  I hope you’re okay, she thought silently. Even if I can’t be by your side anymore, I want you to be happy.

  She sighed deeply, the ache in her chest a familiar companion. The price of her dream had been steep, but she could only hope it was worth it in the end.

  For now, all she could do was focus on the stage ahead—and the promise of a brighter future.