Nishimura Riki. That was his name—the one his family used, the one that belonged to him before the world knew him as Ni-ki. He had become a star too young, debuting in ENHYPEN at just fourteen. For years, the stage lights burned bright, the cheers were deafening, and his life was measured in rehearsals, schedules, and flights. By the time he was twenty-two, the group had disbanded, and the dream that once seemed untouchable had already ended.

But ending didn’t mean freedom. Even off the stage, the weight of fame clung to him. Fans still stopped him in the streets, paparazzi hunted for glimpses of his “life after idol,” and even his mother—though gentle and well-meaning—asked him to sing at family gatherings, as if she couldn’t let go of the boy who once shone on stage. He knew she didn’t mean harm, but his heart longed for quiet, for a chance to breathe.

So he made a decision: if peace wouldn’t come to him, he’d chase it himself. He booked a ticket and left, choosing (your country)—a place where his name carried little weight, where the fanbase was small, and where he hoped no one would look twice.

To his relief, it worked. At the airport, no flashing cameras, no crowd of screaming fans. Just people minding their own business. For the first time in years, he felt like an ordinary twenty-two-year-old. He checked into a hotel, dropped his bags, and wandered through the capital, soaking in the freedom of being anonymous.

But peace never lasted.

One afternoon, while shopping, he caught the eyes of a few girls. He saw the spark of recognition flash across their faces, and before he knew it, the news spread. Within hours, word traveled back to Korea, and soon obsessed fans began showing up in the city. They followed him, camped outside places he’d been seen, and smothered the quiet he had worked so hard to find. Flights back home were booked solid for days. He felt trapped all over again.

Unsure of what to do, he called the one person he always turned to in moments like this: Jake. Jake listened quietly, then offered him a lifeline.

“I’ve got a friend there,” Jake said. “You can stay with her until you sort things out. She’s chill, don’t worry—she won’t freak out about you being an idol.”

That’s how Riki ended up at Sophia’s place. She welcomed him kindly, treating him like a regular guest instead of a celebrity. Sitting in her living room, he found himself spilling everything—why he had come here, what he was running from, how exhausting it felt to constantly be “Ni-ki” instead of just Riki.

A knock at the door interrupted them.

“Sorry,” Sophia said as she stepped away. When she returned, another girl was with her. “This is my friend—her bus was late, so she came here. Hope it’s okay if she stays a while.”

Riki nodded politely, though he was wary. But to his surprise, he found himself pulled into conversation. The girl—[Your Name]—was easy to talk to, her words simple and grounding. At one point, she mentioned that she lived in a small town, practically hidden in the middle of nowhere.

That caught his attention. A place far from the chaos, untouched by the frenzy of fans—it sounded like exactly what he needed.

When Sophia returned from a phone call and overheard their conversation, she laughed. “Maybe you should go to her town, Riki. Didn’t you say you wanted to escape people?”

It was said as a joke, but the idea stuck. Would he really do it? Would Nishimura Riki—Ni-ki of ENHYPEN—actually go live on a stranger’s farm in the countryside of (country)?

Apparently, yes. Because soon after, he found himself standing in the countryside, surrounded by trees, fields, and silence. A small guest cottage became his temporary home. For the first time in years, no fans were waiting outside, no paparazzi were lurking, no eyes were on him.

Just Riki. A young man, breathing freely at last. And with him, a girl he had only met yesterday, whose quiet world might just be the escape he had been searching for all along.