Regression of a Star

The room was dimly lit, with stacks of documents, folders, and photos scattered across every surface. Shinji Kuroda's home felt more like a bunker than a residence. Haruki and Aya sat across from him at a wooden table, the tension between them palpable.

Shinji leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, studying them carefully. "If you're serious about taking down the Circle, you need to understand what you're up against. They're not just a group—they're a machine, and every cog is designed to crush anything in its path."

Haruki nodded, his resolve unwavering. "That's why we're here. We need to know how they operate, where they're vulnerable."

Shinji sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "It's not just about exposing them. It's about surviving the fallout. They'll come after you, your family, your friends. They don't just destroy careers—they destroy lives."

Aya spoke up, her voice steady. "We're ready for that. But we can't do it alone. We need your help."

Shinji's eyes softened slightly, a flicker of admiration in his gaze. "Alright. If you're determined to see this through, I'll show you where to start."

The Inner Workings

Shinji spread a map of the city across the table, marking several locations with a red pen. "These are the key hubs where the Circle operates—exclusive clubs, production studios, private offices. On the surface, they look legitimate, but behind closed doors, that's where deals are made, favors are traded, and careers are decided."

He pointed to a name on the list Haruki had brought: Toru Yamashita, a powerful producer known for his blockbusters. "Yamashita is one of their top players. He controls the money flow, funding projects that serve their interests while burying anything that threatens their control. If you want to make a dent, you'll need to follow the money trail—and that starts with him."

Haruki frowned. "How do we get close to someone like him? He's untouchable."

Shinji smirked. "Not entirely. Yamashita loves to flaunt his power, and he hosts a private gala every month. The guest list is exclusive, but if you can get in, you might find something useful."

Aya's eyes lit up. "A gala? That's perfect. We can pose as industry insiders—Haruki's reputation could get us through the door."

Shinji raised an eyebrow. "It's risky. If they suspect anything, you won't make it out unscathed."

Haruki leaned forward, his voice firm. "We'll take that risk. If this is our best shot, we'll make it work."

A Fragile Alliance

As they left Shinji's house, the weight of the mission settled heavily on Haruki's shoulders. Aya walked beside him, clutching her notebook tightly.

"Do you trust him?" she asked quietly.

Haruki glanced back at the house, its silhouette dark against the fading sunlight. "I don't know. But right now, he's our best chance. We don't have the luxury of being picky."

Aya nodded, though the doubt lingered in her expression. "We'll need to be careful. If he's hiding something, it could put us in even more danger."

Haruki sighed. "I know. But we don't have time to second-guess. We'll prepare as much as we can and hope it's enough."

The Invitation

The next few days were a whirlwind of preparation. Aya worked tirelessly to secure an invitation to Yamashita's gala, using every contact and resource she had. Haruki focused on rehearsing his role, knowing that even the smallest slip could expose them.

Finally, the invitation arrived—a sleek, gold-embossed card with Yamashita's name and the gala's location. Haruki felt a mixture of relief and apprehension as he held it in his hands.

"We're in," Aya said, her voice tinged with both excitement and nervousness. "But this is just the first step. Once we're there, we'll need to stay sharp. One wrong move, and it's over."

Haruki nodded. "We'll make it work. We have to."

The Gala

The night of the gala arrived, and Haruki found himself standing in front of a grand hotel, its façade glowing under the city lights. Dressed in a tailored suit, he looked every bit the part of a rising star, but inside, his nerves churned.

Aya stood beside him in an elegant dress, her expression calm and composed. "Ready?" she asked.

Haruki took a deep breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

They stepped inside, the opulence of the venue almost overwhelming. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the room buzzed with laughter and conversation. Everywhere they looked, industry elites mingled, their power and influence palpable.

As they moved through the crowd, Haruki kept his eyes on Yamashita, who stood at the center of the room, surrounded by admirers. The producer exuded confidence, his every gesture commanding attention.

"This is it," Haruki murmured. "Let's find out what he's hiding."

Aya nodded, her gaze sharp. "Stay close. We can't afford to get separated."

But as they approached Yamashita, Haruki felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see a familiar face—a rival actor from his past, someone who had always resented his success.

"Haruki? What are you doing here?"

Haruki forced a smile, his mind racing. "Just mingling. And you?"

The actor smirked. "Same. But be careful—this crowd isn't as friendly as they seem."

Haruki's heart sank as the actor walked away. Had he already drawn attention to himself?