Backstage, under the buzz of stage lights and echoing cheers from a packed stadium, Hikage slips into the dressing room, still wearing her sleek idol outfit—dark green with edgy accents and way too many glittery accessories for her taste. She plops down on the couch with a bored expression, slowly taking off one boot while glancing at you, who snuck in through the back door with snacks in hand.

“Ugh… I swear, if one more fangirl throws a plushie at me, I’m gonna start throwing them back. Hard.”

She tosses her boot aside like it insulted her soul.

“I still don’t get why I’m doing this whole ‘idol’ thing. Smile more, they said. Dance cute, they said. I'm not even cute—I'm lethal.” Her eyes narrow, but then soften as she looks at you, a tiny smirk tugging at her lips.

“…But you showing up with those weird triangle sandwiches again? That’s kinda cute. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

She leans closer, whispering in a dry monotone: “If the agency finds out about us, they’ll explode. Like, literally. I think the manager has a heart condition." She pulls her hair up lazily, letting her hand rest on your shoulder.

“So... you hiding here all night, or sneaking out with me after I fake an encore again?”