Sunday morning, when Satou Miu's fingers reached into the mailbox at Maison Cotori, they touched paper. No envelope. No address. Just a single folded white sheet. She unfolded it. 'Don't get close to the idol. Ugly. Know your place.' The paper slipped from her hands. She couldn't pick it up. The white sheet lay on the ground. The letters were sharp and clear in the morning light. Miu just stood there. Her feet wouldn't move. Her fingertips trembled slightly. "Miu-chan, are you okay?" Takada Yoshi from the next room appeared, newspaper in hand. The seventy-two-year-old landlady, always so gentle. Miu reflexively hid the paper behind her back. "[scared] N-no, I'm fine." That was all she said. Back in her room. She locked the door to 203, wrapped herself in her futon. Inside the futon it was dark, cramped, but it didn't feel safe at all. Her face had been posted on SNS. Someone had written "I found her address." She'd believed it was just something on a screen. But now the letter had come here. To Maison Cotori. To her mailbox. (Someone who knows I'm here wrote this.) She hugged her knees inside the futon. Outside the window, sparrows in Cotori Park were chirping. The usual sounds of a Sunday morning. But everything sounded different now. ＊ Monday lunchtime. Leaf Dining—the cafeteria at Kaminari Women's University. Miu carried her tray, searching for a seat. Daily set meal, 420 yen. Her usual spot. Her usual time. Three female students sat at a nearby table. As Miu approached, all three casually spread out their belongings. A silent message: "This seat isn't available." Miu sat at a distant table. She set down her tray and picked up her chopsticks. "—That's the girl, right? The one who took photos with Luminous." A voice from behind. A whisper, but she heard it. "Like, how does she even have the face for it." A suppressed laugh. Miu didn't set down her chopsticks. It felt like if she did, she'd lose. She ate three bites of the set meal. It tasted like nothing in her mouth. She couldn't swallow the fourth bite. She returned her tray. Went to the library. Sat in the farthest, emptiest corner, her bag on her lap, head down. (I wanted to be invisible.) She'd felt that way since the night of the first live. But an invisible person can't be hurt. Miu was different now. She was visible. She was a target. She'd lost her place here too. ＊ After school. At the library exit, someone called to her. "[serious] Miu! I've been so worried. Are you okay?" Sakuraba Mana came jogging over. A classmate at Kaminari Women's University, Miu's only friend. Always bright, always pushy, always pulling Miu out into the world. Today her complexion looked a little pale. "[whispers] ...On Sunday, there was a letter in the mailbox..." "A letter?" Miu showed her the memo on her phone. The letter's words typed out exactly as they were. Mana's face changed instantly. "[angry] That's absolutely wrong. I can't forgive this. Who the hell—" Mana's words cut off there. Miu noticed. Mana's eyes were red. Her eyes had been swollen for a while. "[scared] ...Mana, what's wrong?" Mana was silent for a while. The two of them leaned against the wall at the end of the hallway. "[sad] ...I'm being blamed in a LINE group chat." She said it quietly. "A group of Lumiere's friends. Mostly girls who are fans of Ren-kun... They're saying why am I taking her side, why am I protecting someone who's causing trouble for Ren-kun, it doesn't make sense..." Mana had always been a Luminous fan. A fan of Kiryu Ren. Among the Lumiere friend group, she was being blamed for taking Miu's side. (Mana too...) "[crying] Mana, I'm sorry. This is my fault." Her voice cracked. Tears threatened to spill. She didn't want them to. But they came. "[crying] I'm sorry. I'm sorry for dragging you into this. If I'd just refused from the beginning—" "[crying] Don't say that." Mana's voice trembled too. "Don't say that. This isn't something you should apologize for. I chose this myself." They were both crying. Students passing by from class walked past them. Miu and Mana cried silently. Mana took Miu's hand. "[serious] I'm on your side, Miu. No matter what happens to the group. That won't change." Those words, in this moment, supported Miu just a little. ＊ Tuesday night, 9 p.m. Maison Cotori, Room 203. Wrapped in her futon, Miu stared at her phone. She wasn't opening SNS anymore. She'd stopped looking three days ago—she was afraid of seeing the comments that multiplied every time she checked. She knew the insults were increasing. But if she looked, she felt like it would be the end. Her phone vibrated. Ichijou Kyouya, the screen read. Her chest warmed from deep inside. She remembered that restaurant from last week. Kyouya's profile against the night view. Her fingertips touching his bangs. That night had been scary, but she'd been happy. She'd been waiting for his contact. She opened the message. 'I can't contact you for a while. Sorry.' That was all. Miu replied immediately. "[scared] What's wrong? Are you okay?" The read receipt didn't appear. She waited five minutes. Ten minutes. Nothing. She sent a message to Souma. "[scared] Souma, do you know anything about Kyouya?" It stayed unread. She opened Minato's LINE. Until yesterday, he'd been sending stickers saying "Miu-chan, how are you?" Today there was nothing. It had stopped since yesterday. Miu held her phone to her chest and looked up at the ceiling. In this room, Souma and Minato had eaten Komuginokaze bread together. They'd looked at books together at Tsubame Bookstore. She'd talked with Kyouya at Luce di Mare. She'd thought each of those moments was real. But. (It was a dream after all.) Only her lips moved, soundlessly. (Someone like me could never be loved by people like them.) She opened SNS just once. The moment she saw a post saying "Where does Miu-chan live? Post it," she threw her phone into the futon. She pressed her face into the futon. Trying not to make a sound, trying not to make a sound. But her shoulders shook. Tears came. She cried silently. Even as she cried, the read receipt didn't appear. Even as she cried, the letter's words didn't disappear. Even as she cried, the whispered voices from the cafeteria didn't disappear. Even as she cried, nothing changed. Only the night grew deeper. ＊ Past midnight, her phone vibrated. Unknown number, the display read. Miu, her face still wet with dried tears, looked at the screen. It was a message. 'They cannot protect you. If you want to know why, wait in front of Stella Tower during Golden Week.' Stella Tower—the name of the building where Stella Production was located. The headquarters of Stella Production, the talent agency where Kyouya and the others worked. She didn't recognize this number. But she recognized the tone of this message. (I've gotten a message like this before.) Was it the night of the live? Or after? A mysterious message from an unknown sender. Back then she'd been skeptical, scared, and had just ignored it. Now it came again. She didn't know if she should believe it. It could be a trap. Some stranger might just be trying to lure Miu somewhere. But. (It's better than being alone like this.) She gripped her phone with trembling hands. She read the words 'They cannot protect you' one more time. She looked out the window. She could see the cherry tree in Cotori Park. It had turned to green leaves. The tree that had been in full bloom that night in April was now green. So much time had passed since that night. She traced the words 'Golden Week' with her finger. Kyouya's read receipt still hadn't appeared. Souma and Minato remained silent. Mana was being blamed in the group. In the cafeteria, people whispered behind her back. A letter had come to her mailbox. It's breaking, she thought. The dreamlike days that had started that night were crumbling, bit by bit, piece by piece. But it hadn't completely fallen apart yet. Miu, still hugging her knees in the futon, pressed her phone to her chest. Golden Week was coming soon.