Early morning.
The first light of spring had only just risen. Gentle rays slipped through the window, falling across the messy room cluttered with cardboard boxes.
The wall-mounted air conditioner hummed softly, continuously pumping cool air into the space.
And in one corner of the room, buried among the stacked boxes, a mass that looked suspiciously like a futon suddenly twitched.
*Rustle...* As if kicked, the cardboard boxes surrounding the unidentified creature let out a few faint creaks.
Then, as the clock ticked past six.
"Mm... time to get up....."
A sleepy, mumbled voice drifted from the mass. A head, sporting a wild bird's nest of hair and a face screaming *I'm so sleepy, let me sleep*, poked out from under the thick blankets.
Looking closer, the true identity of the mysterious mass was, of course, Aragaki Miyahito.
After struggling for a while, Miyahito finally managed to crawl out of the futon. Still sporting his messy bedhead, he stood up unsteadily with his eyes still half-closed.
Then, as he groped his way toward the kitchen, he muttered to himself.
"Breakfast... bento... Ayase's bento... Gotta wake Ayase up for school..."
*Thud!*
Unsurprisingly, walking blindly in a brand-new apartment, Miyahito slammed face-first into the hallway wall.
"Ouch."
Sharp pain doubled over as it shot from his forehead to his brain. Tears welling up from the impact, the thoroughly embarrassed Miyahito crouched down on the spot, instinctively assuming a defensive squat with his hands over his head.
He held it for a while until the pain subsided somewhat. Then he slowly stood up and trudged toward the bathroom.
Opening his eyes, he carefully examined his reflection in the mirror. Confirming there was no bump on his forehead, Miyahito let out a helpless sigh.
"Geez, banging my head first thing in the morning. What a start."
Lamenting his morning misfortune, he quickly washed up in the bathroom.
Then, drying his hair with a towel draped over his shoulders, he stepped back out into the living room.
His eyes took in the scattered data cables, cardboard boxes, game consoles, and a guitar leaning against the newly assembled gaming desk in the living room and bedroom...
Aragaki Miyahito scratched his cheek, a troubled expression on his face.
"Geez, so much stuff," he muttered quietly as he started organizing.
"Did I really buy this much? Back home, it never felt like this much."
"Hmm... power cords, data cables, this one's for the PS4..."
"Textbooks and essays on the first shelf, manga on the second... yeah, light novels on the third."
Two hours later.
Having finished organizing the living room and bedroom, Miyahito wiped the sweat from his forehead. His dark eyes sparkled with anticipation and joy.
"Today's the first day of living alone. You got this, Aragaki Miyahito."
Humming softly under his breath—a tune he'd recently finished composing and planned to release in a few days, titled *M87*—he changed into a pink-and-white tracksuit and headed into the kitchen.
Just as he lit the stove, preparing a simple breakfast of bacon, fried eggs, and toast...
"Hmm? Who's calling?"
Hearing his phone ring outside the kitchen, he instinctively turned off the burner and stepped out.
One glance at the phone, vibrating continuously on silent mode, and his expression instantly soured.
The good mood he'd been riding for his first day of independence completely vanished.
*Teacher Miyani! How's the progress on your new song, "Until the End of the World"? Just so you know, today is already eight days past the original deadline. Please complete the track as soon as possible.*
The sheer, palpable resentment in those two sentences seemed to physically assault his eyes.
*Ah! My eyes! They're burning!*
Tossing the phone aside, he threw himself onto the floor, covering his eyes and rolling around like a toddler throwing a tantrum over a denied candy.
He couldn't stop cursing under his breath.
"Damn it! Damn it! Is she even human?!"
"Is this something a human does?!"
"I only missed the deadline by eight days! Damn you, Maki! Damn you, Sakuragawa Agency! I quit!"
Just then.
"That won't do, Miyani-sensei."
"Waaah!!"
The sudden second voice in the room sent him jumping in fright.
He scrambled up from the floor, terror written all over his face, his trembling finger slowly rising to point at the short-haired beauty in a tailored women's blazer who had somehow appeared in his apartment.
"How did I end up here?"
"Why are you here?"
The two voices echoed in the room, one right after the other. Miyahito, half a beat too slow, heard her voice out his own question.
He just nodded blankly.
"Sigh... Listen, Miyani-sensei." The blazer-clad woman sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead and shaking her head. "I know that in the creative industry, artists missing deadlines is pretty common."
"But."
Her sudden shift in tone, paired with her dead-serious expression, made Miyahito nervously swallow. He quietly repeated:
"But...?"
"But didn't you swear on your life and pound your chest promising you'd definitely finish it!!"
The shout, brimming with anger and grievance, completely short-circuited his brain.
Still dazed, Miyahito stole a glance at the panting woman, noting the lingering fire in her eyes.
He immediately dropped his head again and spoke in a tiny voice.
"I-I... I'm almost done, really, Maki-nee."
"Are you sure?" The woman, known as Maki, eyed the meek-looking Miyahito with deep suspicion, her tone dripping with question marks. "Can you really finish it? Let me tell you, last night, the President was literally tapping my head, saying, 'Nakamura, from now on, either you bring back Miyani-sensei's *Until the End of the World*, or don't bother coming back.'"
Honestly, just listening to Nakamura Maki perfectly mimic the President's furious tone and aura... it was clear why she was a top-tier manager at this talent agency. She really had the chops.
"Really."
Realizing he couldn't slack off anymore, Miyahito nodded obediently.
Turning around, he walked into the freshly organized room under Maki's bewildered gaze.
When he returned, holding sheet music covered in notes, printed lyric pages, and a USB flash drive, it instantly caught Maki's attention.
However, her shock lasted less than three seconds before quickly morphing into teeth-grinding fury.
*'This kid! He already had it finished the whole time?!'*
Sharp as ever, Miyahito instantly read the room—his manager was on the verge of exploding. He quickly cut in.
"I only finished it last night! Seriously!"
Standing at attention, he politely raised his right hand and waved it like a beckoning cat.
"I swear! You know I've been busy with the move lately."
"Sigh... I really can't win with you."
Maki let out a deeply exhausted sigh.
It was true, she knew exactly what he'd been up to. Besides, he'd even asked her to handle renting this apartment for him.
So.
"Alright, new track secured. I finally have something to report back with." She picked up the sheet music, lyric copies, and the USB drive. As she packed them into her briefcase, she turned to Miyahito, who had gone back to the kitchen, and asked:
"Same rate as usual?"
"Yeah, usual is fine," he replied without looking up, cracking an egg into the sizzling pan. "Just deposit it straight into my bank account."
"Got it."
"Bacon, eggs, and toast. Want some?"
"Yes! And a strong black coffee, please!"
"I don't have coffee. Want a Coke instead?"
"Never mind, then."