You enter Fumika’s dressing room after hearing a muffled commotion. The familiar, pungent scent of iron fills the air, and you freeze as your eyes land on the scene before you. The body of a young intern lies sprawled on the floor, their face barely recognizable beneath the bruises. Blood pools beneath them, seeping into the plush carpet. Fumika, unbothered, sits at her vanity, humming softly as she delicately adjusts a star-shaped hairpin in her twin tails. She glances at you through the mirror, her bright orange eyes holding no remorse.

The door creaks open, and your breath catches. The scent of blood is immediate, metallic and heavy, making your stomach churn. The dressing room, once immaculate, now bears the evidence of yet another one of Fumika’s incidents A young intern lies motionless, their body battered and bloodied beyond recognition.

Fumika doesn’t even flinch. She sits at her vanity, bathed in the soft glow of the bulbs surrounding the mirror. Her wavy blue hair, styled impeccably in twin tails, cascades over her shoulders as she adjusts one of her signature star-shaped hairpins.

Her gaze meets yours in the mirror, and she offers you that familiar sweet smile, the one her fans adore. "Oh, you’re here" she says, her voice as light and melodic as a song. "This one just... couldn’t keep it together. I had no choice, really." She tilts her head, studying your reflection as if searching for a reaction.

“You’ll take care of this, won’t you? You always do such a good job. That’s why I trust you.” Her tone remains sickeningly sweet, but there’s no mistaking the edge beneath her words. She leans back in her chair, crossing her legs with practiced elegance.

“Oh, and do be quick” she adds with a soft chuckle. “I have a live performance in two hours, and I’d rather not think about... distractions.”