The bass thundered through Studio A, vibrating the sprung floor beneath Ai's feet. The familiar rhythm of "Suupaa Mootaa" pulsed through her veins as she took position at the center of the formation. Rui stood to her right, body poised like a coiled spring. Nino bounced on her toes to the left. Behind them, Ichika moved to her position.
The studio's LED lights cast a soft glow over the polished floor. Three cameras had been strategically positioned around the room—one for a wide angle capturing the full choreography, another for close-ups, and a third for behind-the-scenes footage that their fans devoured on YouTube.
"B-Komachi practice video, take one," called the young staff intern operating the main camera. "Whenever you're ready, ladies."
Ai nodded, closing her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them, Everyone's Ai-chan had fully emerged—back straight, eyes bright, smile radiant. The transformation was seamless, practiced over thousands of performances.
"Music in three, two, one—"
The intro kicked in, a peppy electronic beat layered with synthesizers. Ai's body moved on autopilot, muscle memory taking over as her mind drifted. Her thoughts kept returning to that encounter at the café. Those blue eyes.
Focus.
The lyrics approached, and Ai snapped back to the present, lifting the microphone to her lips as the first verse began.
"Racing down the highway, wind in my hair
Engine roaring louder than I'd ever dare
Super Motor take me anywhere
As long as you're with me, I don't care"
The choreography flowed through her body—sharp arm movements followed by a hip sway, then a synchronized turn with Rui and Nino. The routine was physically demanding but well within her capabilities. Her voice remained steady despite the vigorous movement.
"Push the pedal faster, feel my heart race
No map to guide us, just this empty space
Super Motor, it's just you and me
Breaking all the limits, finally free"
As they launched into the chorus, Ai caught her reflection in the mirror. For a split second, she saw not herself but Toshiro—that same intensity behind the eyes, the same otherworldly presence that she recognized from her own performances. It nearly threw her off beat.
"Super Motor, Super Motor
Take me higher, push it harder
Super Motor, Super Motor
Tonight we'll touch the stars"
The second verse approached. Nino stepped forward for her solo line, her voice pitched higher than her natural speaking tone.
"City lights are blurring as we pass them by
Just silhouettes against the midnight sky"
Rui followed with her part, her technical precision evident in every note:
"No brakes, no rules, just open road ahead
Racing toward the future, leaving doubt for dead"
Ichika's mature tone added depth as she delivered her lines:
"Remember when they said we'd never make it far?
Now look at us, outshining every star"
Then back to Ai for the bridge, her voice soaring:
"More than speed, more than thrill
It's the journey that matters still
Super Motor, carry my dreams
Further than anyone's ever been"
The final chorus approached, and the four women executed a complex formation change, their movements synchronized to the millisecond. Ai felt the familiar rush of performance energy—the heightened awareness, the perfect synergy with her groupmates, the music flowing through her body.
As they struck the final pose—Ai in front with one arm extended, the others arranged in a diagonal line behind her—she caught her reflection again. This time, she saw only herself.
The music faded. For three seconds, they held their positions, then relaxed as the staff member called, "Cut! That was perfect!"
Nino immediately bounced toward the camera. "Did you get my good side? I think my hair flipped weird during the second chorus."
Rui stepped back, analyzing their performance with critical eyes. "Nino, you were half a beat behind on the formation change before the bridge. Ichika, your arm position was too low during the chorus. Ai—" She paused, frowning slightly. "You seemed distracted during the first verse."
Ai shrugged, grabbing a towel to blot the light sheen of sweat from her face. "Just working through some new ideas for the show."
"It was barely noticeable," Ichika added, her tone soothing as she placed a gentle hand on Rui's shoulder. "Only Rui would catch something that subtle."
Nino huffed, hands on her hips. "I wasn't behind on the formation change! If anything, everyone else was early."
"The music doesn't lie," Rui replied, her tone matter-of-fact rather than accusatory. "We should run it again to clean up these details. Yokohama is next month."
"Can we take five first?" Ichika asked, already moving toward her water bottle.
Ai nodded, grateful for the breather. "Five minutes, then one more run-through."
As the others dispersed to their respective corners of the studio, Ai rolled her shoulders, working out the tension. Her mind kept drifting back to that cafe. Toshiro Kagami. The newest member of PRISM. There had been something about him, something beyond the obvious good looks and natural charisma.
"Earth to Ai," Nino's voice broke through her thoughts. "Share with the class? You've been spacing out since coming back from break."
"Just thinking about the new choreography for next week's showcase," Ai lied smoothly, taking a sip from her water bottle.
"Sure you are," Nino dragged out the words, clearly unconvinced. "This wouldn't have anything to do with you showing up after break looking all flustered, would it?"
"I spilled coffee," Ai explained, gesturing to the faint brown stain on her sleeve.
Rui approached, her sharp eyes missing nothing. "That's not like you. You're usually meticulously careful."
"Speaking of careful," Ichika interjected, "I heard Ichigo brought in someone new for PRISM. Their replacement for Tadashi."
Ai kept her expression neutral, though she noted Ichika's careful navigation of the conversation. "I actually ran into him during our break. That's how I got the coffee stain."
"You what?" Nino perked up instantly, green eyes widening. "You met the new guy? What's he like? Is he talented? Does he seem nice?" She paused for a breath before adding, "Is he handsome?"
Ai smiled, recognizing Nino's not-so-subtle probing. "His name is Toshiro. Seems confident. Polite enough when apologizing for the coffee collision."
"But is he cute?" Nino pressed, leaning closer.
"I barely spoke to him," Ai deflected.
"That's not an answer," Nino pointed out. "On a scale from 'average idol' to 'supermodel,' where does he fall?"
Rui crossed her arms. "Does his appearance matter? The relevant question is whether he has the technical skill to elevate PRISM's performances."
"Thank you, Rui," Ai nodded.
"Though Nino's question isn't entirely irrelevant from a marketing perspective," Rui added. "Physical appeal factors into idol success metrics."
Nino grinned triumphantly. "Exactly! So, Ai... aesthetically speaking... for marketing purposes only..."
Ichika chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I think what Nino's trying to ask is whether we should be worried about PRISM suddenly gaining a visual advantage."
"He's..." Ai paused, considering her words carefully. "Striking. Distinctive. More than conventional idol-handsome, very memorable."
"Memorable how?" Nino latched onto the description.
Ai recalled Toshiro's unusual coloring, the confidence in his stance, the way he'd met her gaze directly instead of with the starstruck awe she typically encountered. "White-blonde hair. Blue eyes that seem to change shades. Tall. Carries himself like someone who's comfortable in his skin."
"Sounds like someone has been paying attention," Nino teased, nudging Ai's side with her elbow.
"Professional assessment," Ai corrected, though she felt a strange warmth creep up her neck. "Ichigo clearly chose him to stand out, just like he did with us. B-Komachi isn't built on conventional idol aesthetics."
Rui nodded, processing this information. "Ichigo is deliberately creating visual counterpoints. Logical strategy."
"Strategy or not," Nino said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, "I'm suddenly very interested in our brother group's rehearsal schedule."
"Focus," Rui said sharply. "We have a showcase next week. PRISM isn't our concern right now."
"Rui's right," Ichika added, her tone gentle but firm. "If PRISM is improving, that's good for Strawberry Productions as a whole. But our priority needs to be our own performance."
Nino pouted. "I was just curious."
"There's something else," Ai said, the words escaping before she'd fully formed the thought. "Something about him reminded me of..." She trailed off, unsure how to articulate what she'd sensed.
"Of?" Ichika prompted gently.
Ai shook her head. "Nothing concrete. Just an impression."
"Well, now I'm even more curious," Nino declared. "Maybe we should drop by Studio B after practice? Just to be neighborly?"
"Absolutely not," Rui said firmly. "They need space to develop their dynamic without an audience."
"I agree with Rui," Ichika said. "Remember how we felt when we were first forming our group identity? The last thing they need is us hovering."
Ai remained silent, though she couldn't deny her own curiosity. What was it about Toshiro that had struck her so powerfully? That sense of recognition, as if looking into a mirror and seeing not just a reflection but a kindred spirit?
"Break's over," she announced, pushing the thoughts aside. "Let's run it one more time, perfect every detail, and then we can wrap for the day."
The others moved back into position. As the music began again, Ai forced herself to focus solely on the performance, pushing thoughts of blue eyes and quiet confidence from her mind.
For now.