Suddenly—
A deep, rolling wave of sound crashed through the walls.
**"UNDEAD! UNDEAD! UNDEAD!"**
The floor trembled.
Red stage lights pulsed brighter—anticipation humming in the air like electricity before a storm.
Koga froze mid-step... then slowly turned toward the closed curtain leading to the stage.
"...They're really out there," he muttered—voice lower now. Not cocky. Not nervous.
Just... real.
Kaoru smirked, finally opening his eyes. "Told you they'd come."
Adonis stood up fully, cracking his neck once with a sharp *snap*.
"Then let's make sure they don't regret it."
Rei pushed off from the pillar—his red eyes glowing in the dim backstage glow as he adjusted his gloves one final time...
And spoke:
> "No more warming up."
>
> **"Now—we burn."**
One breath passed.
Then four pairs of boots moved as one toward the curtain—
shadows lengthening behind them,
hearts pounding under black uniforms,
names echoing beyond steel doors—
UNDEAD didn't walk onto that stage.
They **descended** into it.
🖤🔥🎤
Light.
Smoke.
Adrenaline—like a drug.
As UNDEAD burst into the spotlight...
...the world burst into flames around them.
The arena went wild.
Fans screamed with one voice. Phones raised like swords.
The concert hall shook to its foundation.
And in the middle of it all...
Koga grinned like a god.
"THIS! *THIS* IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO LIVE!"
And like wildfire, the concert exploded.
Hits.
Hits.
Hits to every beat, every pulse, every *note.*
Koga's guitar wailed through smoke.
Adonis' bass thundered underneath.
Rei sang with fire.
Kaoru sang with passion.
And the whole arena sang with *them.*
This wasn't a concert.
It was a battle.
A symphony—and a war all at once.
The scream pierced through the music—sharp, high-pitched... *unmistakably familiar.*
For just half a second—
Rei blinked.
Kaoru's eyes flickered sideways.
Adonis didn't flinch (he never did).
And Koga?
He almost tripped on stage smoke.
Because there—center front, nearly climbing over security railings—
Was **Raito.**
Screaming at full volume.
Waving twin light sticks like flaming swords.
Jumping like he'd lost his mind—and loving every second of it.
Beside him?
Tsukki stood perfectly still... except for one hand lazily waving a single black-and-silver light stick in quiet rhythm—eyes fixed on the stage...
...but occasionally darting to Raito with pure, unfiltered *judgment.*
> "I told you we had backstage passes," Tsuki muttered under his breath.
> "You didn't have to scream your lungs out."
"I'M NOT YELLING!" Raito shrieked back over the music. "I'M **BECOMING ONE WITH THE ENERGY!**"
Tsukki sighed—and let his head drop briefly before slowly raising his stick higher...
not because he cared about fan rituals...
but because for one fleeting moment—
he saw Rei glance down at him from the stage...
and nod.
Just once.
No words.
No drama.
Just acknowledgment: *"You're here."*
And that was enough.
So Tsuki closed his eyes—for just a beat—and mouthed along to UNDEAD's final chorus:
Not loud.
Not flashy.
But real.
🌙🖤
Backstage after?
Raito would cry happy tears and demand filming rights for "UNDEAD x Polar Opposites: The Collab That Must Be."
But tonight?
The moon simply watched its stars burn bright...
and let itself glow quietly beside them.
✨🎤🔥
As the crowd slowly filed out of the arena, a staff member with a headset stepped toward Tsuki and Raito with a tired but satisfied smile.
The staff member adjusted his headset. "Polar Opposite idols?"
Tsuki nodded curtly.
Raito beamed. "That's us!"
The staff member glanced at his tablet. "Great. The after party's starting soon, and the idols said they specifically wanted to see you both."
Tsuki nodded without any visible reaction. "Understood."
Raito, on the other hand, nearly fell off a table. "THE AFTER PARTY?!" He shrieked. "WE'RE GOING?!"
**WHAP!**
A sharp *slapstick* noise cracked through the hallway as Tsuki smacked Raito's head with a bright red foam slap stick—just hard enough to sting pride, not skull.
> "Shut up," Tsuki deadpanned. "You're acting like you've never seen an after party before."
Raito clutched his head dramatically, staggering back.
"**BRUTALITY!** I'M A DELICATE FLOWER—AND YOU JUST STOMPED ON MY PETALS!"
"No," Tsuki muttered, tucking the slap stick back into his bag like it was standard equipment (it wasn't). "You're a *noise hazard.*"
The staff member blinked twice... then slowly lowered his tablet.
"...You two are really Polar Opposites."
Tsukki: stone-faced. Moon incarnate. Discipline in motion.
Raito: flopped on the floor now, pretending to be dead with one hand over his forehead and light sticks still glowing weakly at his sides.
"I can't go on..." he moaned. "I've been struck by darkness itself..."
Tsuki looked down at him—completely unimpressed—
then leaned forward just slightly and whispered:
> "...Or we could leave you here...
>
> ...and tell UNDEAD their biggest fan didn't make it?"
That did it.
In 0.5 seconds flat—
Raito was upright again, dusting off his clothes like nothing happened.
"I'm ready for glory!" he declared—with sparkles practically erupting behind him this time. ✨
Tsukki turned away before anyone could see the tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips...
and started walking down the hall—
not too fast...
but just slow enough...
for someone important to follow.
🖤🌙
As the staff member led them down the backstage halls, Raito glanced around like he was trying to mentally record (and film) every second of the experience.
"This is so cool!" he whispered, bouncing between "professional" and "fanboy" every sentence. "I mean, I've been to concerts before—but this feels different. Maybe it's the backstage aspect, or the vibe you get before the concert? No wait—it's the energy from being in the same space as UNDEAD! This is *so* going on my blog—I can already see the view count now..."
Tsuki said nothing for a long second, simply watching Raito vibrate with fanboy energy as they walked.
Then, as calmly as if discussing what to order for lunch:
> "If you 'fanboy' one more time, I'm deleting your blog account."
Raito instantly froze in place, horror flashing across his face.
"I... you... you wouldn't dare."
"MAKE. ME"
For a moment, there was nothing but deathly silence...
and a stare off between a moon child with *the glare* and a fanboy desperately clinging to his phone like it was his last lifeline.
Finally, Raito caved first.
"...I'll stop," he muttered, slipping his phone back into his pocket as if afraid of another delete threat. "No more fanboy talk. Promise."
The staff member glanced between the two idols—
the bright one with sparkles in his eyes and delusions of grandeur...
and the cold, calm one who weaponized silence like a ninja.
And he just... *sighed* internally.
> *"These two really are total opposites,"* he thought.
>
> "One screams loud enough to break glass..."
>
> "The other could end a fight with eye contact."
He shook his head slightly—trying not to smile—as they walked toward the private lounge where UNDEAD waited.
Then quietly mused:
**"And yet... somehow, it works."**
Like sun and moon orbiting each other.
Chaotic light.
Quiet dark.
Neither overpowering—just... balanced.
The perfect duo act that made Yumenosaki buzz from stage to sidewalk gossip.
🖤☀️
As for him?
He'd seen many idol pairs come and go...
but never one that felt quite like *this.*
Not stars apart—
but **shining together**, whether they admitted it or not.
The staff member leading Tsuki and Raito toward the after party kept glancing back at their strange duo and wondering just how much of this was normal fanboy behavior, and how much of this was genuinely psychotic.
The part where the boy on his phone got smacked with a *foam slapstick* in the middle of a hallway seemed extreme, even by concert standards...
But the taller one with the deadpan face was somehow the one doing the smacking.
Which was even less normal.
The staff member blinked—once, slowly—as he led them down the dim corridor.
> *"Wait... was the stoic one the aggressor?"*
His internal memo updated instantly:
> **Note: Polar Opposites. Not metaphor. Actual physics-defying phenomenon. Do not approach without backup. Or snacks."**
He side-eyed Tsuki again—the guy who hadn't cracked a single smile, not even when Raito fell over pretending to be "struck by moonlight."
And yet.
This was the same one who carried a *slap stick like it was standard issue.*
"...Are you two allowed to bring foam weapons into after-parties?" he finally asked—half joking, half preparing an incident report just in case.
Tsuki didn't break stride:
> "Only if my partner keeps forgetting basic human volume control."
Raito gasped dramatically: "I'm expressing passion! It's art!"
"It's noise pollution," Tsukki corrected—then added coldly—
"Next time I'll use the *spiky* one."
"There IS no spiky one!" Raito shrieked.
**"There will be."**
The staff member shuddered slightly and quickened his pace toward the lounge door—
where soft music and low laughter spilled from behind velvet curtains...
and UNDEAD waited within...
like gods resting between thunderclaps.
🖤🚪✨
One thing was certain now:
If Yumenosaki ever made a survival guide for idol management...
**Page One would read:**
*"Never stand between Tsuki Kuroi and his sanity."*
Not even for free VIP tickets.
As they reached the lounge, the staff member paused with one hand on the velvet curtain dividing the after-party from the hall.
He glanced back at Raito, who'd been chattering nonstop the whole way here about everything from merch options to video ideas...
then glanced at Tsuki, the polar-opposite partner who hadn't said more than a few dry sentences and still gripped a foam weapon.
For just a moment, the staff member wondered if they'd be okay.
"Here we are..." he said slowly.
And with that, he pushed aside the velvet curtain...
revealing a dimly lit after-party filled with stars.
Glittering lights.
Soft music.
The buzz of muffled conversations, mixed with quiet music flowing from the speakers.
The lounge looked more like a fancy lounge than a typical concert wrap party. There were comfortable couches dotting the space. A small bar on one side of the room.
And right in the center, in a ring of low couches like a king around his court...
UNDEAD, resting between songs.
The four members all glanced up as the staff member entered...
then their attention turned to *who* he brought.
For a moment, everything was still.
Then—like a spell breaking—
Koga sprang up from his couch with the energy of a hyperactive puppy.
"YOU CAME!" he said to Raito, who'd instantly lit up like a festival lantern.
"OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD *OHMYGOD—"*
**WHAP!**
Another sharp crack echoed through the lounge.
Raito collapsed sideways onto a nearby velvet couch like he'd been struck by divine punishment.
Silence fell again—this time deeper, heavier... and somehow *funnier.*
UNDEAD stared.
Koga's mouth hung open. "He... went down in *one hit*..."
Kaoru raised an eyebrow. "That foam stick hits harder than your chorus notes, Koga."
Rei simply nodded once—like he'd just witnessed something sacred unfold before his eyes.
> "Discipline," he murmured. "Respect."
>
> **"Power."**
Meanwhile, Tsuki slid the slap stick back into his bag with zero expression—like this was routine maintenance rather than public execution of joy.
Then calmly said:
> "You had one job: walk in quietly."
>
> "You failed."
From the couch, Raito groaned dramatically:
"I can't feel my soul..."
Adonis leaned over slightly—not to help—but to observe—and gave one solemn nod:
"...Deserved."
The staff member who brought them slowly backed toward the door, muttering under his breath as he vanished into the hallway:
**"Never forget... they warned me."**
🖤🌀
And thus began the most dangerous after-party in Yumenosaki history—
where no fanboy was safe...
and even idols thought twice before making too much noise around a certain moon child...
and his cursed foam weapon.
🕯️🪄✨
Not a question.
A statement.
Tsuki stood perfectly still, arms at his sides, eyes sharp in the dim glow of the lounge lights.
No fanboying. No excitement.
Just quiet calculation—like he already knew this wasn't *just* about meeting idols.
Rei tilted his head slightly—the closest thing to curiosity he ever showed. "Straight to business."
Koga plopped back down on the couch: "Hey, I just wanted them here 'cause they're fans! And... y'know, Tsukki kinda scared me earlier—gotta bond somehow!"
Kaoru snorted: "Bonding through trauma? That's *your* love language."
Adonis crossed his arms: "But if they're being brought here officially..." His gaze shifted to Tsuki. "Then it's because someone thinks you two are ready."
Silence settled again.
Raito sat up slightly from the couch—still dazed from slap-stick justice—but now with wide eyes full of sudden realization:
> **"Wait."**
>
> "Ready for what?"
Before anyone could answer—
Rei stood up slowly... and looked straight at Tsukki:
> **"A collab stage."**
The words landed like a drum hit mid-song.
Raito gasped so hard he choked on air.
Tsukki?
Didn't flinch.
Just narrowed his eyes...
and said one word:
> "...Why us?"
Rei smirked—quiet, dangerous—and tossed him a folded paper across the space between them like an invitation written in fire:
**"Because your moon has teeth."**
"...And I want to see what happens when it bites back."
🌑🔥
The lounge went still again...
as destiny dropped quietly onto black leather floors—
and no one dared pick it up but one stoic idol with foam vengeance in his soul,
already knowing...
this was only just beginning.
🎤⚔️✨
On the way to class, Raito babbled excitedly about the upcoming collab stage...
as usual.
Tsukki walked along in perfect silence, arms folded—as usual—letting his fanboy friend gush about his wildest dreams (and how now one of them was about to come true).
As they walked, a few students glanced their way. Some whispering. Some pointing.
The two polar-opposite idols had become a bit of a buzz around school lately, ever since word of an upcoming collab stage started filtering into the rumor mill.
Tsukki's eyes flicked across the hall—watching whispers bloom like cracks in glass.
A sneaker squeak.
A giggle cut short.
Someone filming behind a phone case.
> *"They're already talking,"* he thought, jaw tightening slightly.
Not about the music.
Not about training or vocals...
No.
They were talking about **UNDEAD**... and **Polar Opposites**... and whether this collab was real—
—and what it meant if it was.
His fingers curled subtly into fists at his sides as he walked past a group of giggling first-years from the idol course.
> *This isn't excitement.*
> *It's a spark on dry grass.*
And Yumenosaki?
Too many egos, too many dreams packed into one building overlooking the sea...
One spark wouldn't just flare—
it would **burn** everything down to ash before lunch break next Tuesday.
Tsuki exhaled slowly through his nose, gaze cool but distant ahead:
"...Raito."
"Yeah?" Raito chirped, spinning mid-step to face him with light sticks somehow back in hand (already merchandising ideas in full swing).
Tsuki said nothing for three more steps...
then finally muttered under his breath:
> "When this blows up..."
>
> "Don't say I didn't warn you."
And far beneath that cold tone?
A quiet truth rang clear:
This wasn't just an idol collaboration anymore...
>this was war by performance.
>
>a power shift dressed as harmony.
>
>a duel masked as dance.
🌑🔥🏫
Because at Yumenosaki Academy...
the stage wasn't just for singing...
it was where legends were made—or broken.
Tsuki stood by his locker as his classmates filed past, heading for lunch.
He was in the midst of quietly organizing his school supplies—one notebook at a time—when the sound of footfalls approached behind him.
Slow. Casual.
Confident.
Tsuki's eyes flicked sideways as someone stopped right beside him, leaned back against the locker, and crossed their arms.
He knew who that was without even looking.
Sure enough...
A pair of perfectly polished white oxfords appeared in Tsuki's peripheral view, like twin swans on a still lake.
And attached to those shoes?
A familiar silhouette wearing a perfectly-tailored uniform and a small, polite smile...
with pale gold hair framing a face that looked like a porcelain doll come to life.
The picture of perfect elegance, in human form.
Eichi Tenshouin.
Tsuki turned slowly—just enough to meet the calm, knowing gaze of **Eichi Tenshouin.**
Not a student anymore.
No.
A *legend.*
The crown prince of Yumenosaki's golden age. Former leader of *fine*, the most iconic boy band this academy had ever produced. The one whose graduation concert made fans cry across three prefectures.
And now?
He stood here—in the school hallway—dressed in civilian clothes but still radiating that quiet, untouchable aura like moonlight draped in silk.
Tsuki closed his locker with a soft click and spoke first—voice low, measured:
> "You don't belong here."
Eichi smiled—softly, unfazed.
"Not anymore."
"But I came back... for *you two.*"
Raito finally snapped out of his daze: "H-HIIII! YOU'RE EICHI TENSHOUIN! LEGEND OF FINE! THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL FROM HEAVEN'S GARDEN!"
**WHAP!**
The slap stick cracked across Raito's head again—from nowhere, somehow faster than light itself.
"Quiet," Tsuki muttered coldly. "I'm trying to figure out if he's real or a ghost."
Eichi chuckled—a sound like wind chimes at dawn—and stepped slightly forward.
"I heard about your collab offer from UNDEAD," he said calmly. "Impressive... so quickly after transferring."
His eyes flickered between them—Raito still blinking away tears from slap-induced trauma...
and Tsuki standing perfectly still, guarded as always...
Then Eichi smiled wider—the kind that wasn't quite threatening...
but made your spine tingle anyway:
> **"But be careful."**
>
> **"At Yumenosaki... not every spotlight leads to glory."**
>
> *"Some only reveal how deep the shadows really are."*
And just like that—
he turned on his heel,
walked down the hall without another word,
disappearing around the corner...
leaving only silence behind...
and one very shaken fanboy clutching his heart (and head).
"...Did... did I just get life advice from an idol deity?" Raito whispered hoarsely.
Tsuki didn't answer right away.
Instead—he stared down at his hand where Eichi had briefly brushed past him...
a small folded note now resting in his palm without him even noticing it was placed there.
On it?
Three simple words:
> **"Watch your back."**
🌙📜
Yumenosaki wasn't big enough for two legends...
It was barely big enough for one storm—
and now?
There were four coming at once.
🌪️🎤🖤
They were barely out of the clubroom when it happened.
Like a storm breaking loose, Idol units emerged from every hallway—
**Trickstar** burst through with grins and camera phones:
"Yo! Heard you're doing a stage with UNDEAD—what's the set list?!"
**Knights**, in full formation like noble warriors, blocked the stairs:
"This collaboration... has our attention," Tsukasa said solemnly. "Prove yourselves."
From above, **AKATSUKI** dropped down like ninjas (because of course they did):
"Rumor has it you two *slapped* your way into their hearts?" Keito teased. "Teach me that move."
"NO!" Raito screamed instinctively. "Tsukki's slap stick is sacred violence!"
Too late.
He was already surrounded.
🔥
**RYUSETAI**, roaring louder than all others:
"If we team up—imagine the stage presence! Power + chaos = perfection!" Tetora grabbed Tsuki's hand and wouldn't let go. "Say yes!"
Tsuki glared. Then reached into his bag—
Tetora shrieked and dove behind Midori before *whap!* could land again.
💀
Then came **Ra*bits**, bouncing like a pastel avalanche:
"We want to join too~!" Tomoya chirped. "Moon x Sun x Bunnies? It'll be so cute!"
"It will be *disastrous,*" Tsukki deadpanned—but Nazuna had already pulled out matching light-up ears for everyone, including him (he threw them back).
💔
"Now now," called **2wink**, smirking as they leaned in from behind:
"Two opposites... two twins... sounds poetic." Yuta winked at Tsukki: "Care to share secrets over tea?"
"No." He turned away sharply—but not before Subaru snapped his picture with zero warning.
📸💥
And finally...
The air itself seemed to shift as golden winds swept through—
the arrival announced by echoing footsteps and deep bass tones:
> "**Fools who play with fire should not be surprised when they are burned,**" boomed Shu from Valkyrie dramatically as they descended on high heels fit for gods.
>
> "...But if this duel of stars ignites—we shall watch from Olympus."
A pause.
Then:
"...We demand front-row seats."
🔥👁️🗨️🔥
Chaos swallowed them whole—questions flying, hands grabbing, dreams colliding—
every unit hungry for relevance... or connection... or just *in* on what felt like history unfolding in real time.
Raito laughed nervously under it all—sweating bullets but still glowing:
"We're popular!!"
Tsuki?
Closed his eyes...
took one long breath...
and finally spoke—one word dripping icy finality into the noise storm:
> **"...Slapstick?"**
Everyone froze mid-motion like time itself obeyed him now.
He didn't even need to pull it out this time—he just raised an empty hand slowly...
and pointed at Raito—who instantly collapsed onto knees dramatically screaming,
"I'LL BE GOOD I SWEAR!"
Silence returned—blessed silence—and somewhere beyond windows overlooking sea waves...
it almost felt peaceful again.
🌑🖤✨
But Tsuki knew better now:
This wasn't fame calling...
>this was war wearing makeup,
>
>singing harmonies,
>
>and waiting backstage—with its own spotlight knife drawn sharp.
The moon saw clearly tonight...
Yumenosaki would never be quiet again.
🎤⚔️🌌
It was Sunday. A day off.
Normally, Tsuki would be sleeping away in his room—but today was anything but normal.
He wandered down the city street, footsteps echoing quietly in the half-quiet morning light—
and beside him, Raito chattered away as if this was the best day of his life:
"Can you believe this is happening!? First UNDEAD, now this?! Our names will be on everyone's lips by lunchtime!"
Tsuki's eyes remained on the road ahead of them, his stoic expression betraying nothing.
"Being talked about doesn't mean they're saying anything positive," Tsuki remarked dryly.
Raito, unfazed by his partner's skepticism, skipped a step in his excitement. "Oh, come on. You're always so negative. Can't you just enjoy that people are talking about us for once?"
Tsuki didn't flinch.
But his eyes—cold, sharp—flickered to the side like a predator sensing movement in the dark.
Because suddenly, from behind:
"Wait—is that Polar Opposites?!"
They froze simultaneously, the sudden attention a stark contrast to their casual morning stroll.
Raito, caught off guard but still beaming, turned with a smile and a wave. "Yep, it's us!"
Tsuki, ever the pragmatist, braced for impact—this was a public street, after all. Fans could be unpredictable.
Raito yelped in surprise as Tsuki grabbed his hand with unexpected swiftness, his fingers gripping tightly. "Hey, what—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Tsuki was already tugging him along, quickening his pace to a brisk jog, hurrying them away from the growing attention.
Raito stumbled at first, caught off guard by the sudden sprint, but quickly found his footing. "Wait- wait- wait!" he protested. "Why are we running!?"
Tsuki, not loosening his grip or slowing down, shot a disapproving glare over his shoulder. "Paparazzi," he muttered with obvious disdain. "We're not stopping to answer idiotic questions or pose for photos."
To be continued...