Haru chuckled softly... "I never knew... there were so many spirits in showbiz."
Ren leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. "It's a great place for us. People expect performers to be a little strange. No one bats an eye when someone glows a little under the spotlight."
Ryu snorted, balancing a shrimp on the rim of his bowl. "Speak for yourself. I've had fans try to pluck my scales during fan meets."
Haru's eyes widened. "Scales?"
"Back when I got too excited," Ryu said dramatically, a hand over his chest. "It was tragic. My agent nearly had a meltdown trying to cover it up."
Ren rolled his eyes and flicked a piece of lettuce at him.
As the bickering continued, Haru smiled quietly, watching the two interact with ease. The warmth of the hot pot, the soft clinking of utensils, and the hum of casual conversation created a sense of comfort he hadn't felt since leaving the countryside. It didn't feel like just dinner—it felt like the beginning of something special.
After a while, the hot pot had been picked clean. The broth simmered gently with just a few forgotten mushrooms floating lazily inside. Plates were stacked up, empty bowls pushed aside. Haru offered to help clean up, but Ren waved him off.
"You're a guest," Ren said, pointing him toward the couch. "Relax while you still can."
Ryu, already halfway through wiping down the table, added, "Yeah, training starts soon. You'll miss these lazy nights when we're running on four hours of sleep and reheated convenience store rice."
Haru laughed nervously but followed Ren's advice, curling up on the couch with a pillow tucked under his arms. The cushion smelled faintly of fabric softener —earthy and warm. It reminded Haru of wildflowers.
Ren returned with a dish towel slung over his shoulder, flopping down beside him. He pulled out his phone and checked the time, his thumb hovering over the screen.
"Hey, Haru," he said after a beat, his tone suddenly more serious. "We should probably check our messages. The results from the audition might be in."
Haru jolted upright, his ears twitching with nervous energy. "R-right now?"
Ren nodded, already opening the group chat.
Haru fumbled for his own phone, his hands trembling slightly. The screen lit up, a soft glow in the dim room. For a moment, the only sound was the rustling of clothing as they both scrolled through their notifications.
The room was silent—too silent.
Then—
Ding!
Ren's phone buzzed. He glanced down, and a grin immediately began to spread across his face. He turned his screen toward Haru without saying a word.
Haru leaned forward so quickly he almost knocked his drink over, his heart caught in his throat.
"W-we made it?" he breathed, eyes scanning the message.
"Congratulations," the text read. "You've been accepted as an official trainee under Jintai Entertainment and will be joining the Idol Awakening Program. Report to the main building at 8 AM sharp."
Ren beamed. "We did it, Haru. We're in."
Haru's hands flew to his mouth, muffling a delighted squeal. His ears perked straight up, twitching with joy. "We did it! We really did it!"
They high-fived, then hugged in a burst of excitement before quickly pulling away, both laughing at the sudden closeness. Ryu strolled in just in time to witness the chaos.
"What's with the hugging?" he asked, raising a brow.
Ren smirked. "We made it."
Ryu grinned and gave Haru a solid clap on the back. "Congrats, country boy. Now the real pain begins."
Haru blinked. "Pain?"
"Training," Ryu said solemnly, dragging out the word. "Physical conditioning, vocal training, choreography, media etiquette, and if you're unlucky—variety show acting."
"Don't scare him," Ren said, elbowing Ryu, who just grinned wider.
"I'm preparing him for reality," Ryu replied dramatically. "This is no fluffy bunny warren. This is showbiz."
Despite the teasing, the mood was electric. They stayed up a little longer, sipping canned peach sodas and talking about what the future might hold—group performances, live stages, magazine shoots. Haru soaked in every moment, even when he yawned so wide his eyes watered.
Eventually, the night wore down. Haru was given a spare futon and a fluffy pillow with a cartoon fox pattern. As he lay down, cocooned in blankets, he stared at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.
His thoughts wandered. He thought of his parents and how proud they would be. Of the fields back home and the small TV that first showed him the shining idols he admired. And now… here he was. One step closer.
Sleep came easily, carried on dreams of stages, stardust, and distant applause.
The next morning came quickly. Haru stirred awake to the scent of something toasty. He padded into the kitchen, where Ren was sipping from a cup of instant miso soup.
"Morning," Ren said, sliding a boiled egg onto a plate. "Thought I'd make a quick breakfast."
Ryu stumbled out next, hair a mess, muttering about alarm clocks being spirit-cruelty devices.
By 7:30 AM, the three of them were out the door, dressed in comfortable training clothes and carrying small bags. Jintai Entertainment's main building loomed ahead—sleek glass walls and a revolving door that reflected the morning sun like a spotlight.
Haru paused outside, heart thumping as he looked up at the logo above the entrance.
"You ready?" Ren asked, adjusting his bag over one shoulder.
Haru nodded, his nerves fluttering in his chest like butterfly wings. "Yeah. I think I am."