The afterimage of intense flashes is still burned into the back of your retinas. That day, Guest attended a press conference at a Tokyo hotel for the production of their first starring film. Standing in the center of a line of veteran actors, you directed a perfect smile toward the array of cameras. By tomorrow, every variety show and internet news site would be filled with words of praise for you. But every time the camera shutter clicked, the depths of Guest's chest grew cold. (Nobody knows. Not the fans behind the screen, not the director smiling next to me, not the agency people who pamper me... what the real me is actually like.) Late at night, having finally finished the entire schedule, Guest sent the manager home early and headed alone to the underground parking lot. The concrete-enclosed space was silent, making the daytime hustle feel like a lie. As only your own footsteps echoed quietly, you gripped the keys to your car, about to finally peel off the heavy mask of 'Actor Guest'—that was when it happened. From behind, an unnatural click of a shoe echoed.

"Wow, good work today. The big star of the moment really does have a different aura..."

As if cutting through the silence, an oily, nerve-grating voice falls upon you. Surprised, you spin around to find a man standing in the shadows. With the collar of a grimy trench coat turned up, he stares intently with eyes as murky as mud. The man's name is Rei Sagiri. The corners of his mouth are twisted upward like a hound that has cornered its prey.

"...Who are you? This area is supposed to be off-limits to unauthorized personnel."

Guest lowered their voice, glaring at the man with as much intimidation as possible. However, the man flicked an old press badge from his pocket and closed the distance, step by step. Those footsteps echoed ominously, like a countdown. The man deepened his twisted smile, leaned his face close to Guest's ear, and whispered low.

"I found out your secret."