Chapter 7: Instructions

The days that followed were a long, secret, solitary “Role Research.”

Rehabilitation after the car accident was a tedious but unavoidable process.

The first week was spent almost entirely in bed, with the fracture site needing to be immobilized, the abdominal surgical wound needing to heal, and the head injury requiring absolute quiet.

All she could do was lie down, sit up, and occasionally, with the nurse’s help, perform some simple limb exercises.

In the second week, she started doing upper-body recovery exercises in bed, including lifting her arms, turning her neck, and moving her fingers.

When the physical therapist came, he would guide her through a standardized set of postoperative recovery exercises.

She performed them with exceptional diligence each time, because she knew that if she was to continue being “Hoshino Haruka,” this body had to recover as quickly as possible to a state where it could dance and sing.

In the third week, she got out of bed for the first time.

When her feet touched the floor, her legs were weak—partly from inactivity, and partly because this body’s center of gravity, stride, and sense of balance were completely different from her body memory.

She was over ten centimeters shorter and about twenty kilograms lighter than Eitai, and the muscle distribution in her legs was entirely different.

The leg muscle lines built by years of dancing as an idol were completely different from a shut-in’s legs.

Of course, there was also the extra flesh on her upper body—and it was not insignificant—which felt very strange to her, but that’s a story for later.

Over these three weeks, her daytime hours were filled with examinations, treatments, and rehabilitation training.

Before sleep at night, there would be a visiting period of over an hour.

Ritsu, several seniors from the agency, other entertainers, and agency staff would come to visit; the most frequent visitor was Ritsu, and the President would drop by occasionally.

After they left, the hospital room lights would be dimmed to the darkest, and only the footsteps of nurses patrolling the corridor would remain.

At that time, it was time for her “homework.”

Until she fell asleep, she would keep flipping through Hoshino Haruka’s phone like consulting a manual.

This was the only “textbook” she had.

Haruka’s phone contained her entire digital life over the past few years since her debut: social media accounts, LINE chat logs, contacts, memos, photo albums, browser history…

Every record and text silently told her what kind of person Hoshino Haruka really was.

She was like a great detective, systematically going through and summarizing each piece of information and clue, trying to unravel the truth bit by bit to see the whole picture.

At the same time, like a student, she took mental notes.

LINE Chat History—

The chat with Ritsu was at the top.

The message frequency was extremely high, almost daily, with content mostly about work arrangements but mixed with a lot of everyday small talk:

Haruka: “Today’s dance rehearsal is so hard!!! My legs are about to fall off!! 😭”

Ritsu: “Finished practicing?”

Haruka: “Finished practicing…”

Ritsu: “Good. Recording the broadcast tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Haruka: “So cold!!! Why can’t you say something caring!!!”

Ritsu: “Eight. Don’t be late.”

Haruka: “Wah wah wah, you demon agent…”

Haruka: “Ritsu.”

Ritsu: “Hm?”

Haruka: “I worked hard today, didn’t I?”

Ritsu: “…Yeah.”

Haruka: “Hehe ❤️”

So that’s how Haruka and Ritsu talked: acting cute → getting pushed away → acting cute again → getting pushed away again → occasionally getting a short affirmation → then being happy like a child.

This pattern was like a song on repeat, the melody simple but for some reason it was soothing to listen to.

She also scrolled through Haruka’s chat with the President.

It was formal but close, reflected in the alternating use of “Uncle Shinji” and “President” depending on how personal or professional the topic was.

There was also a chat from the day before the accident, between Haruka and her grandmother:

Haruka: “🥰 Grandma! What’s for dinner today?”

Grandma: “It’s oden today. Are you coming home?”

Haruka: “Probably can’t make it today… I’ll definitely go next week!”

Grandma: “Don’t push yourself.”

Haruka: “It’s fine! Haruka is full of energy!”

As she looked at this conversation, her throat tightened.

The real Haruka was no longer in this world, but her grandmother was still alive…

No, that’s not right.

Now she was Haruka, and Haruka had a grandmother, so this grandmother was now “her” grandmother too.

So she could fulfill that promise on her behalf.

‘Right… or is it?’

She shook her head, deciding to set that question aside for now and continue scrolling.

There were almost no chats with classmates.

Haruka attended an art high school full of entertainers.

The relationship between classmates could be described politely as “mutually respecting each other’s busy schedules” or bluntly as “everyone is too busy to socialize.”

Haruka seemed to get along with one or two girls at school, but the chat frequency was low, and the content was mostly about assignments and exams.

Finally, regarding fan interaction, Haruka’s Black X account was clearly managed by the agency.

The posting frequency was consistent, balancing “daily sharing” and “work promotion.”

The tone and voice were mostly official, and the occasional selfies and daily life updates were likely edited by her.

She barely replied in the comments, but occasionally she would selectively like or respond to particularly sincere or interesting comments.

But what surprised her most was Haruka’s memo app—it would not be an exaggeration to call it a treasure trove.

She had watched Haruka’s variety shows many times, and Haruka often mentioned that she was very forgetful—either she would get people’s names wrong or forget things—so she liked to write everything down in her memos.

This wasn’t role-playing, it was fact.

The previous Haruka really did record all sorts of random things in her memos, including but not limited to:

Phone unlock password, social media accounts and various software passwords.

(One specially marked account password had a bold note after it: “a small account used for self-searching, liking, and fighting with haters. Remember to never accidentally switch to the wrong account and reply with the official account!!!”)

Names of staff members she often forgot and their corresponding facial features (Haruka had a note: “The teacher who wears a hat at the recording studio is Mr. Tadokoro! Not Tanaka!!! Don’t call me wrong again!!!”)

New song lyrics for each quarter (hand-typed, with some modifications marked)

Random daily thoughts jotted down—“Today’s pudding was so delicious” “Mr. Ritsu actually proactively bought me milk tea today. Did the sun rise from the west?”

…

And there was one memo pinned to the top, titled “Important Things” (大事なこと):

Remember:

No matter how tired you are, smile; no matter how sad you are, shine on stage.

Because there are people watching you from the audience.

Maybe those people, precisely because they see you smiling, feel that they can try a little harder tomorrow.

So—don’t stop.

That night, she stared at that memo for a long time.

Then she locked the screen, placed the phone face-down on the blanket, lay flat, and stared at the pitch-black ceiling.

She said to the air, in Haruka’s voice, “…You’re really amazing, Hoshino Haruka.”