Hikari Hoshino

“C'mon, let's sing our hearts out. We didn't come this far for nothing, right? So let's sing!”

Prologue

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THE PRICE OF FAME December 2020

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”Konnichiwa Hi-Lights!”

“Konnichiwa Hi-Lights!”

”Kon-”

”Konni-”

”Konnichiwa Hi-Lights!”

”-see you at Tokyo Dome tonight!”

Masayoshi rewind and rewinded. But he couldn’t get enough. The woman's enigmatic smile, the tilt of her head as she regarded the camera - it burned into his mind like a brand. He knew every curve of her face, every shift of her expression more intimately than his own reflection.

He licked his lips, the room's stale air tasting of dreams and unfulfilled longing. Posters and magazines plastered every wall in a dizzying kaleidoscope of her face, her body immortalized from every candid and studio angle. He drank in the sight like a man dying of thirst, desperate to capture every nuance.

No one could love you like I do.

No one.

Cracking his neck, he looked at himself in the mirror. The blond-haired boy had no trouble with romance. A lot of women came up to him and confessed their feelings. But none of them were her. This beautiful, perfect being. His mother always taught him that you know your soulmate without a doubt. He had zero. Hikari was his soulmate.

Masayoshi was not an extraordinary man by any means. Just another lonesome programmer stuck in the city, working insane hours to distract from his isolation. His apartment was barren save for the walls utterly plastered with her face - Hikari, the top idol in Japan. Her flawless porcelain features and dazzling smile adorned every square inch in posters, magazines, figures, and more.

His entire life revolved around Hikari. He knew everything about her from her blood type to her favorite foods. He pored over every interview, vlog, and social media post hungrily, playing them on loop to engrain her voice into his memory. In his mind, she spoke directly to him, her effervescent laughter like the ringing of bells.

When advertisements for Hikari’s upcoming arena show went live, Masayoshi instantly purchased a front row seat. He had to be as close to his love as possible. He has been practicing dodging security to get past barricades, timing their patrols and planning the perfect moment to slip through undetected. He knew she would understand once he proved his devotion.

Of course she didn’t know he existed-

He snapped back to reality, fingers instinctively finding the concert ticket resting on his desk. Just looking at Hikari's headshot printed there made Masayoshi’s chest tighten with anticipation and longing. Tonight, he could see her in the flesh again at the Tokyo Dome. The thought made his hands tremble.

Masayoshi closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring Hikari's lilac perfume scent that still clung faintly to the ticket from her autograph session months ago. In his mind's eye, she materialized before him, reaching out with her delicate fingers to caress his cheek as she had during that blessed encounter. Her soft voice like wind chimes whispered his name - "Masayoshi-kun..."

A shiver ran down his spine. If only she knew how he truly felt about her. How she was the sole reason he got up every morning and powered through his dull office job. Just stealing occasional glimpses of her latest Instagram posts or TV appearances was like a balm for his very soul. Masayoshi needed her in a way that went beyond mere admiration.

The obsessed fan suddenly remembered Hikari had gone live on Instagram earlier to hype her upcoming concert. He scrambled to pull up the video on his phone with shaky hands. There she was in all her ethereal beauty, thanking her precious "Hi-Lights" for their neverending love and support.

Masayoshi felt his cheeks flush as Hikari blew a kiss toward the camera. It was almost as if she could see him in that moment - her one and only true devotee. He began giddily typing out a barrage of comments in the chat:

"Can't wait to see you shine on stage, Hikari-chan! ????" "Please notice me, I'll be the one holding up the glowstick heart wreath in the front row!" "What outfit will you be wearing?? I need to know so I can get a matching one made!"

He continued pouring out his deepest feelings toward his beloved idol into the chat for several minutes like an overflowing faucet. This was the closest semblance of connection Masayoshi felt he could have with Hikari. He dreamed of the day she might finally realize he was her biggest fan who cherished her more than any other.

The moderator banned him. Again. But he had alts.

Once the livestream ended, Masayoshi found himself hitting refresh on Hikari's Instagram page every few seconds like an addict hoping for his next fix. He simply couldn't fathom a world where Hikari Hoshino didn't exist as the radiant guiding light of his universe...

He turned his computer off, picking the ticket up and smirking at it. He has been stalking Hikari Hoshino since they were both children, and he hasn’t given up yet. Rising, he stalked towards the door.

Whether she liked it or not, he was coming, and she was going to see his love for her.

—

Her heart pounded in sync with the heavy bass reverberating through the limousine. Hikari's slender fingers gripped the sumptuous fabric of her shimmering white mermaid gown as she mouthed the lyrics, lost in her private ritual before every major show. Visions danced through her mind of stepping onto the blazing stage, amps cranked to ear-splitting volumes as a sea of screaming fans reached towards her, hands waving glow sticks in a hypnotic wave.

The dazzling lights would silhouette her lithe figure, glittering gems woven into her shimmering gown refracting kaleidoscope patterns across the crowd. As the first thumping drumbeats exploded from the speakers, Hikari would launch into the intricate choreography etched into her muscle memory from endless rehearsals. Each pop of her shoulders and sway of her hips would be mirrored by thousands of enraptured fans, joined in worshipful unison to the pulsing rhythm.

A tap on the partition window snapped Hikari back to the present moment. They had arrived. Her manager must have signaled the driver. Taking a steadying breath, Hikari smoothed the layered folds of her flowing mermaid skirt and adjusted the sparkling crown secured in her red tresses.

The door swung open and a roar bombarded her senses - screams and chants blending into a cacophonous wall of sound, flashing cameras bleeding streaks across her vision. Hikari blinked, dazed, as two burly security guards took flanking positions at her sides, parting the crush of fans straining against metal barricades.

Tentative at first, Hikari began waving, her lips spreading into a radiant smile as she caught the gaze of her adoring fans. Some thrust photos and albums towards her, desperate for an autograph. Others just wanted to bask in her presence, mouths agape in worshipful reverence. Hikari drank it all in, letting the electric energy of the crowd flow through her veins and galvanize her spirit.

Fumiko materialized at the venue's entrance, her trademark black hair gleaming under the spotlights as she ushered Hikari inside with a gentle hand on the small of her back. "You're doing okay Hikari? No pre-show jitters?" she murmured in English, the language a familiar comfort after years of coaching the young idol.

Beaming up at her mentor, Hikari responded with giddy enthusiasm, giving two thumbs up. "I'm okay! I can feel it tonight, it's going to be a great show!"

Fumiko's mahogany eyes crinkled with an affectionate smile as she ruffled Hikari's hair, the idol pouting playfully at the teasing gesture. "Do your best out there kiddo, I know you've got this," Fumiko encouraged. "I'll be waiting in the wing if you need me. Now get going, just twenty minutes until curtain!"

With one last reassuring squeeze of Hikari's shoulder, Fumiko pivoted down the hallway, her towering heels clicking purposefully towards the staging area. Alone for just a fleeting moment, Hikari closed her eyes and let the roar of the crowd wash over her. This was her destiny, her reason for being. She was going to shine brighter than any star.

---

The pulsing beat of the music vibrated through Hikari's body as she danced and sang across the stage, hyping up the energetic crowd. Beads of sweat rolled down her flushed cheeks, but she didn't care - the roar of the audience spurred her on. Her backup dancers moved in perfect sync, their choreographed motions mesmerizing under the dazzling lights.

As the final chorus rang out, Hikari raised her microphone triumphantly. "Goodnight Hi-Lights!" She grinned widely, giving an enthusiastic wave to the cheering fans. A quick glance up at the camera overhead and she playfully blew a kiss towards her adoring parents watching from home.

The curtains closed and Hikari practically bounced backstage, still riding the post-performance adrenaline high. Fumiko was there waiting, a warm towel draped over her shoulders and an icy bottle of water in hand. "You were a star out there tonight!"

Patting the towel against her glistening skin, Hikari beamed. "Thanks! I'm still buzzing. We should probably head to the autograph line though before my energy crashes." She chugged down the refreshing drink eagerly.

They made their way to the main lobby where a sizable queue had already formed, fans cheering excitedly as Hikari came into view. She basked in their cheers and applause, giving a radiant smile as she took her place at the signing table. Another successful show in the books.

The meet-and-greet had been proceeding smoothly until the nondescript young man in the plain hoodie stepped forward. Though his outward appearance was utterly unremarkable, something in Hikari's gut clenched with a spike of anxious recognition the moment she laid eyes on that blonde hair.

Masayoshi. Her most obsessive, unhinged fan.

A fake smile plastered on her face, Hikari swallowed down the knot of dread and forced herself to maintain her usual cheerful idol persona. "Hi! You need an autograph?"

But there was no masking the twisted light of adoration blazing in Masayoshi's eyes as he returned her hollow gaze. His lips stretched into a self-satisfied grin, as if he could somehow sense the discomfort roiling inside the pit of her stomach.

"Just your name, my name, and the words 'I love you!'" he declared, already unzipping his backpack to unveil an unsettling array of official and bootleg Hikari merchandise.

The fake smile faltered as she leafed through the items, her breath catching at some of the more...explicit fanart mixed within. A bead of sweat trickled down her back as the reality sank in - this was far more than mere idol worship driving Masayoshi's fixation.

No, his attachment had mutated into something darker. Unhealthier. An obsession fueled by delusions of intimacy and entitlement over her very existence.

"You didn't wave to me, why? I told you where I would be standing in your live." Masayoshi's demeanor shifted with unsettling abruptness, his tone hardening into something accusatory despite the veneer of relaxed body language. "As forgiveness, sign all of it. With those words. Or I'm charge backing for not fulfilling the order."

A hollow chuckle slipped from Hikari's lips, the fake smile becoming a grimace. "I don't...usually sign that."

"I'm already pissed you didn't acknowledge me in the crowd, I can only forgive you so many times." he snarled, leaning back with narrowed eyes. "As if any of these losers know as much as I do about you."

In that moment, the security guards' presence was a cold comfort. Because in Masayoshi's mind, his twisted perception had recast their dynamic as something far more intimate and possessive than it truly was. More akin to a jealous lover staking an imagined claim over their significant other, rather than the unhealthy parasocial fixation of an obsessed fan upon an idol who was a complete stranger.

Every fiber in Hikari's being screamed at her to refuse, to stand firm and reject his outrageous demands. But the small, pragmatic part of her recognized the very real danger Masayoshi posed in his current unbalanced mental state. Antagonizing or outright denying him could prove disastrous, given the unstable depths of his obsession. The smart move was to placate him. At least for now.

So with trembling hands, she meekly retrieved her pen and began scribbling her signature across each item, unable to meet his raptor-like gaze. All while silently praying this encounter would resolve without incident.

The seconds ticked by in agonizing slow motion as Hikari's trembling hand gripped the pen. She could feel the weight of Masayoshi's intense stare boring into her, those dark eyes glinting with an unsettling hunger. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as she forced herself to maintain a nervous smile.

"O-Of course! Just give me one moment..." Hikari's voice came out barely above a whisper as she fumbled to uncap the pen. The black ink glistened ominously in the fluorescent venue lighting.

With shaky script, she carefully wrote out "To Masayoshi" on the first piece of merchandise - a cheap knockoff t-shirt with her image printed alongside revealing fanart. Her cheeks flushed crimson seeing the way her body was so grotesquely exaggerated and sexualized. This was so humiliating...but she had no choice except to oblige his depraved demands.

"From Hikari," she murmured under her breath, the pen dragging across the fabric almost subconsciously. Masayoshi leaned forward, eyes narrowing behind the strands of blonde hair hanging over his face.

"You know what else to write, Hikari-chan," he purred in a sickly sweet tone, lips curling into a twisted grin.