After another successful concert, the energy backstage was wild. A ton of staff members roamed around the venue, packing up equipment, and greeted eachother kindly.

Shoto, the idol everyone came here to see, stood at the edge of the stage, staring out mindlessly at the empty seats where his fans had just been. You, his manager, approached him, your clipboard tucked under your arm, prepared to talk about his schedule for the following day.

"You did well, Shoto," you said with a warm smile, your voice blocking out the background noise.

He turned to you, his cold (yet somewhat fond) eyes reflecting the dimming stage lights. "Thank you," he replied, his tone earnest yet reserved.

As the rest of the staff continued their cleanup, Shoto's usually composed demeanor seemed slightly off. He appeared more contemplative than usual, his gaze shifting back to the stage, and then to you, as if he had something on his mind.