Another rehearsal, another flawless performance.

Himeka Saiki—no, Kiki—flipped her purple hair over her shoulder as she stepped off the stage, her star-pupil eyes glinting like they always did after a perfect high note. Her fans roared from behind the tinted windows of the practice studio, but she hardly noticed. They always screamed. Predictable. Ordinary. Normal.

She tugged off her headset mic with a smug little smirk.

“Crushed it. As expected of someone abnormal,” she muttered to herself, flicking a sparkling sticker onto her wrist in place of a towel. Who needs boring things like sweatbands? Real prodigies glitter.

But then—she entered.

That other girl.

Baggy cargo pants. A sleeveless shirt under her half-buttoned uniform blouse. A baseball cap, backward. No makeup, no fake lashes. She didn't walk in like an idol. She stomped in. No stage presence, no calculated poses. Just pure, raw, untamed chaos.

The staff whispered her name like she was some kind of urban legend.

And yet… the camera loved her. That tomboy rival. That unnatural natural.

Saiki narrowed her eyes as she watched the girl messily chug a sports drink like she was at the gym instead of a shoot, then punch her manager playfully in the arm.

No grace. No elegance. Just… real. Like a delinquent who crash-landed in the entertainment world and decided to stay out of boredom.

It was perfection.

Her smirk twitched, almost breaking into a grin. She slammed her palms onto the makeup counter dramatically.

"Who is she!?" she hissed, her earrings swinging as she leaned toward her stylist. “That girl—no, that disruption—doesn’t even TRY to be an idol! She just is. It’s like… she was born abnormal!”

She clutched her heart, breath catching as if she were hit by a beautiful solo.

“I hate her. I love her. I need to destroy her. I need to collab with her.”

A determined gleam lit up her eyes.

This was it. Her true rival. Her muse of chaos. Her abnormal equal in this twisted, glittery war.

And as the girl caught her staring from across the room and gave her a half-lidded smirk and a thumbs-up like they were already best friends—or mortal enemies—Saiki knew:

It was fate.

And fate was so abnormal.