The morning light slanted across Komachi Shopping Street in the Shione Ward. On the old stone pavement, a vegetable shop's banner swayed. The tofu vendor was sweeping his storefront, and the smell of coffee drifted from somewhere. The neon chaos of last night felt like a lie—this place was peaceful. Kashiwagi Ren sat on an old bench near the entrance to the shopping street. More accurately, they had collapsed onto it. Somehow, night had turned to day. The stone bench was hard, with no backrest. Still, they lacked the strength to stand. After wandering near that abandoned stage all night, their body felt impossibly heavy. Their stomach was empty, and it was making quiet demands. (…What do I do?) They checked the ID card in their pocket again. "765 PRODUCTION / PRODUCER ID." Every time they looked at it, the mystery only deepened. Who had made this card? Why did they have it? If they could figure that out, maybe it would be the thread leading back to their original world. But without a smartphone or wallet, there was nothing they could do. Ren stared at the stone pavement beneath their feet. The tips of their shoes were faintly white from last night's running. There was a small scrape on their right wrist—caught on the shutter's edge when entering the abandoned stage. Nothing serious. But it stung faintly. "Um… are you alright?" Ren looked up. A girl stood there. She had long, bright crimson hair tied at the side. She carried an eco-bag in both hands, with leek leaves peeking out from inside. She was probably on her way back from shopping. Her orange eyes looked straight at Ren—worried, but not wary. Just genuinely concerned. "…I'm fine." Ren answered curtly, and the girl tilted her head slightly. Her gaze stopped near Ren's pocket. The card was sticking halfway out. From taking it in and out so many times last night, the edge had become visible. Her eyes traced the letters on its surface. In the next moment, her expression changed. "…Is that a 765 Pro ID card?" "You know about it?" "I do. I'm affiliated with them." Orange eyes met Ren's. It was hard to read whether she was surprised or verifying something. "Are you a producer?" Ren hesitated for a moment. Saying "I'm a producer" would be a stretch. But saying "no" would leave them unable to explain the card. "…There are circumstances. Complicated ones." The girl considered this briefly. She adjusted the handles of her eco-bag, then said, "For now—" "Why don't you come to our office? We can talk there." --- The 765 Production office was a three-story building along Komachi Street. Its age showed in its appearance—the outer wall had some cracks—but the entrance glass was polished clean. The office space on the second floor was a room with three desks, shelves, and a small conference table. The shopping street was visible through the window. "Otono-san, do you have a moment?" The woman who turned at Haruka's call wore round glasses and had soft bob-cut hair. Papers were piled high on her desk. Otono Kotori, as Ren would later confirm from the nameplate. She seemed to be the office administrator for 765 Pro, handling schedules and accounting single-handedly. "Could you verify this ID card?" Kotori took the card and held it up to the terminal on her desk. A beep sounded. Text appeared on the screen. Kotori's expression froze. "…Haruka." "What is it?" "It says there's no issuance record." Ren looked at the screen too. "Authentication Chip: Genuine" and "Issuance Record: Does Not Exist." Two contradictory lines sat side by side. Kotori held the card up again. The result didn't change. She narrowed her eyes behind her glasses and looked at Ren—not suspicious, but searching for answers. "Where… did you come from?" Ren hesitated briefly. But lying here would be pointless. "From another world. My original world is similar to this one, but different. Last night, I woke up collapsed in an alley in this city." Silence. Kotori adjusted her glasses frame. Haruka was watching Ren's face. "…Are you serious?" "I'm not asking you to believe me. But if I tell you everything I know, you'll see this isn't a lie." Another silence. This one lasted longer. Haruka spoke first. "Can I hear the whole story?" --- Ren told them everything. About their original world, studying music production, waking up collapsed in Lumière City's alley. About the card in their pocket. About being chased by drones. About what they found at the abandoned stage. Haruka didn't interrupt. She just listened quietly. When Ren finished, silence hung in the air for a while. Haruka sat with her hands folded in her lap, thinking. Kotori remained motionless, staring at the terminal screen. Finally, Haruka looked up. A small dimple appeared. "Stay here for now." Her voice was certain. She didn't say "I believe you" or "I don't believe you." She just said that. Ren tried to respond but found no words. Since last night, no one had helped them. Hungry, exhausted, with nowhere to go. And then to hear "stay here"—they couldn't quite process it. "…Understood." It was all they could manage. Kotori stood up and pulled two emergency gel drinks from a drawer. She placed them silently in front of Ren. "Your complexion is poor. Please drink these for now." --- "I'll show you around." Haruka stood and led Ren through the office. The first floor was a lesson studio. Mirror-lined walls, soundproof doors. But no one was inside. It was quiet despite the morning hour. A half-used roll of athletic tape lay in the corner of the floor. "Everyone has individual schedules today." Haruka spoke in a slightly lowered voice. Back on the second floor, Ren's eyes caught the whiteboard on the wall. Written in red marker: "Live Cancelled ×3." Beside it: "Estimated Loss: 4,000,000 Yen." The letters were large and carefully written, which somehow made them look heavier. A monitor beside the desk kept streaming SNS feeds. Ren's eyes went to the screen. "765 Pro cancelled again? That's fraud." "Give back ticket refunds." "I'm not buying anymore since it'll just get cancelled anyway." Posts flowed past one after another. All criticism of 765 Pro. Some contained false information. "Management fled." "The president embezzled funds." Ren recognized them as rumors immediately. But on SNS, those kinds of posts spread fastest. "President Takagi is at a Stella Entertainment Federation committee meeting right now. SAF—it's the industry association for talent agencies. They're discussing the Noise damage." Haruka explained. The Stella Entertainment Federation was an organization with about 340 talent agencies nationwide, handling live venue safety standards and dispute mediation. An investigation committee had been established regarding the Noise problem, but concrete results hadn't emerged yet. "The assigned producer is also absent right now." "So there's no one here?" "Right. So I'm filling in." The phone rang just as she was saying this. Haruka quickly picked up the receiver. "Yes, 765 Production. …Thank you for calling. You're from our sponsor, correct? Yes, regarding the live cancellation the other day." Her voice gradually changed. It started soft but grew firmer as the conversation continued. She maintained her friendliness while something inside her braced against the weight. "…Yes. Your concerns are completely understandable. Once the president returns, we'll contact you again regarding our future response." The call ended after about three minutes. Haruka set down the receiver and looked out the window. Ren watched her profile. Haruka gazed outside for a while. Then, in a voice almost like talking to herself, she said: "I have to meet everyone's expectations." That was all. A small voice, as if reminding herself. Ren looked away. (Does she do this all the time?) At sixteen, standing in front of an office with no assigned producer and no president, taking calls from sponsors, watching SNS rumors spread. That smile was light and bright, but at the same time, it was shaped to carry something very heavy. Ren pulled out the memo they'd been using as a bag. Notes from what they'd seen at the abandoned stage. "Can I ask you something?" --- Ren stood in front of the whiteboard and spread out the memo. "Last night, I checked the logs on the abandoned stage's audio equipment. The Noise interference has a pattern." "A pattern?" "I call it a Void Sign. The logs of interfered equipment share a common encrypted marker. And it only targets specific frequency bands periodically. It's not random. The target is narrowed down." Haruka listened intently. Ren wrote numbers on the whiteboard. The dates of the three cancelled lives and the times the cancellation announcements were made. "In all three cases, the interference happened within 48 hours before the show. The venue's audio equipment was accessed via network, then the equipment stopped. The interval between that and the fake SNS posts appearing is almost identical every time." Haruka's eyes slowly widened. "So… someone is acting on a set schedule?" "That's how it looks. Not a prank. There's a plan." Haruka thought for a moment, then looked at Ren. "Will you help me?" Her eyes were direct. Ren paused. They needed to find a way home. Solving the mystery of this ID card might reveal the circumstances of their transfer. In other words, there was a reason for them to stay here. Whether that was the real motivation, they decided not to think about right now. "…Yeah." --- "Wait a second." Haruka stood and opened a drawer in the shelves. A first aid kit came out. "I've been worried about your wrist this whole time." Ren looked at their right hand. The scrape. They hadn't forgotten about it, but didn't think it needed treatment. "It's nothing serious." "But it should be disinfected." Her tone left no room for argument. Ren quietly held out their right hand. Haruka pressed a cotton ball soaked in disinfectant to the wound. It stung slightly. But more than that, Ren was aware of Haruka's fingertips touching the back of their hand. (…Warm.) Ren looked out the window. Haruka didn't seem to notice, carefully wiping the wound. She applied gauze and taped it down. The whole sequence was very quiet. "All done." "…Thank you." Ren pulled their hand back. Haruka had already moved on to putting away the first aid kit. --- By evening, the light streaming through the window had turned orange. Ren stood at the second-floor window, looking out at the street. Komachi Street had evening foot traffic. Housewives with shopping bags, students on bicycles heading home, salarymen leaving work. An ordinary evening in an ordinary town. Then a car pulled up. A black wagon. Tinted windows obscured the interior. It stopped in front of the office building with the engine running. After a while, the passenger door opened. A man in a suit got out. Around forty. His expression was unreadable. He took out a smartphone and aimed it at the office building. Click, click. He took another shot from a slightly different angle. The entrance door, the second-floor window, the edge of the building. Multiple shots, taken carefully. Ren remained still inside the window. After about a minute, the man returned to the car. The door closed, and the wagon slowly drove away. "What's wrong?" Haruka's voice came from behind. "A car stopped outside. A man in a suit was taking pictures of this building." "Ah… we've had people like that come by recently." Haruka looked out the window. The car was already gone. "Probably industry reporters. I heard they've been going around interviewing offices affected by the Noise." "Maybe." Ren nodded. But their mind was elsewhere. If it were a reporter, they'd normally call from the entrance. That man hadn't said a word. The angles he'd photographed focused more on the second-floor window than the entrance. And last ni