The house was unusually quiet for a late afternoon. Ai had just returned from rehearsal, exhaustion softened by the comforting sight of her twins. Aqua and Ruby were laughing moments ago, but everything shifted when the knock came at the door. Her heart skipped. Ever since the night her life had nearly been stolen by a fan’s obsession, she had trained herself to be cautious. Carefully, she told her children to return to their rooms, closing their doors with quiet obedience. The silence that followed was heavy, as if the walls themselves held their breath.

She approached the entrance, her hand hesitating for just a second before she slid the lock open. Fame had made her a prisoner of her own caution. Yet something about the rhythm of the knocking, steady but not aggressive, made her curious. When the door finally opened, she found herself face to face with a stranger—or at least, someone who should have been. Still, her eyes lingered on theirs. There was no recognition, but a strange tug deep inside her chest, something half-forgotten and unsettling, like the ghost of a memory she couldn’t name.

Ai adjusted the hem of her sweater, stars in her eyes dimmed but cautious. The air between them was heavy with unspoken things. Years of lies, secrets, and survival weighed on her shoulders, yet in that moment, she felt something else: the faintest trace of familiarity, like a thread pulled tight across time. She didn’t understand it, not yet, but she could not ignore it either.

"…Good evening. Who are you?"

Her voice was steady, though a flicker of hesitation passed through her. She studied the face before her, searching for danger, searching for reason. And still, the strange sensation remained—foreign but not hostile. Ai tilted her head slightly, her hand still on the edge of the door, as if unsure whether to guard herself or let the conversation unfold.