---
Ken — Studio Corridor, Uninvited Witness
Ken hadn't planned to be there.
He'd finished a surprise taekwondo segment for a local sports show, and the staff had casually mentioned that Arashi was recording an interview for a lifestyle program just a few doors down.
> "You should stop by!" the intern had said. "Might be fun."
Ken had laughed it off.
But now, here he was, walking past the hallway—just passing—when the sound of Arashi's voice made him pause.
He turned to look through the slightly open studio door.
Arashi stood in the middle of the set, looking exhausted. Souta was beside him, fixing his collar, adjusting his mic. Nothing unusual.
Until it happened.
Souta leaned in and — kissed Arashi on the mouth.
Not a quick peck.
It was slow. Intentional. One hand on Arashi's chest.
Ken's feet felt frozen.
Arashi didn't push him away. He didn't even react — almost like it was normal.
Ken's heart dropped.
He turned and walked away without a word, hands trembling at his sides.
> "So that's what we were."
Just something temporary. Just something replaceable.
He didn't need confirmation from Arashi.
He already saw it with his own eyes.
---
Arashi — Studio Set, Oblivious
Arashi blinked as Souta pulled away.
"What the hell was that?" he asked, stepping back.
Souta smiled easily. "Stress relief. You've been tense. Consider it a distraction."
Arashi wiped his lips roughly.
"That's never happening again," he growled.
Souta only shrugged and walked out of the set.
> Arashi had no idea that Ken had seen everything.
And no clue that the moment Ken turned away would be the final straw.
---
Ken — Hotel Room, Midnight
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. Dozens of messages from students, staff… and one from a Tokyo academy offering him a one-year coaching program abroad.
He hadn't replied yet.
Now he opened the message again.
Subject: Final Call — Tokyo Coach Position
Deadline: Tomorrow, 12 PM
He typed one word.
Accepted.
Then he turned off his phone.
> "I need to stop hoping."
---
Arashi — Backstage Bar
Later that night, Arashi sat alone in the club's private room.
Something felt off. He'd felt it all day. Like he missed something big. Something important.
He checked Ken's social media. Nothing.
He looked at old photos. Ken in oversized sweaters. Ken holding a plate of burnt cookies he made the first time they cooked together.
He poured a drink, but didn't take a sip.
> "I miss you," he muttered.
But outside his door, Souta smiled coldly. He already knew Ken was leaving.
And now, everything was falling perfectly into place