Karen stood at the foot of the mountain, jaw agape as she stared up at the summit, which was so high up that it pained her neck just to crane her head upwards to view it. It had taken her the better part of an hour to locate the address, even with her phone's map app on hand, but now that she was here, she could only ask herself how she hadn't seen it from farther away.

The figurative mountain in question was an apartment complex so grand and imposing that the word 'mansion' might have better suited it. It gleamed white and pristine in the reddish tinge of the four o'clock sun, windows trimmed with silvery steel lining its façade, every glass pane sending the light of the great orb in the sky down towards where Karen stood, so that even with sunglasses on she was forced to purse her eyes barely shut just to see. Around her was the front courtyard of the building – there was a courtyard at the back, too, judging by the map – and it was filled with rows of neatly kept shrubbery, between which were beige ceramic-tiled walkways upon which residents could stroll. The lobby in front of her was equally intimidating, glass doors guarding an antechamber swathed in marble, expensive-looking potted plants flanking the way ahead, and a pair of small waterfalls that cascaded down either side of the walls just before the elevators.

Near the doors was a small intercom, and Karen keyed in the number written on the paper, her vision still blanched by looking up at the sun for a little too long. A few seconds of static erupted from the speaker, before a click and then a soft, "Hello?"

"Hey, this is Houjou," Karen said. "Houjou Karen. I've come to visit."

"…Who's that? I haven't heard that name before."

Karen, taken aback by the response, struggled to muster one of her own. "I… um… from 765 Production? I'm one of the idols there. I think Producer-san—"

"I was just joking. You may come in." The speaker fizzled out, and the doors were duly unlocked. Annoyed yet grudgingly amused, Karen entered the lobby and made her way up towards someone who, from first impressions, might just be a tad more unpredictable than she could have ever envisaged.

"What brings you here today, Houjou-san?"

Karen blinked in surprise, shifting uncomfortably on the opulent leather sofa. She dared not lean back, out of an irrational fear that doing so might somehow damage the patently expensive item of furniture, leaving her forever financially indebted to the one who sat across the table from her, porcelain teacup in hand, glancing idly up at Karen as she sipped from it. Karen, for her part, had not touched her own cup of tea – it, too, looked far too pricey for her to stomach drinking it.

The most affluent-looking thing in the room, though, was undoubtedly Chitose Kurosaki herself. She was dressed in a gossamer silk shirt underneath a meticulously embroidered black vest cut at the shoulders, with a velvet dress and slippers to match. Her flaxen-blond hair, luscious and loose about her shoulders and back, was parted just enough to reveal a pair of blood-red eyes, twinkling with entertainment and surveying Chitose's latest prey with an inexplicable voracity, upon noticing which Karen gulped audibly.

"Didn't Producer-san tell you why I was coming?" she asked, anxiously twirling the chestnut-colored tresses falling across her forehead as she spoke.

"Of course he did." Chitose settled languidly into her seat and took a crisp from one of the packets that Karen had brought her, chewing on it approvingly. "Salt and vinegar. A vintage choice. That sour tang is delectable."

"Right? Can't beat the classics," Karen agreed.

"Thank you for the snacks, and for the drink – I will have that later. Though, if you'd let me speak plainly…"

"…Sure."

"It is naught but a fool's errand that the Producer has sent you on. A formality." The confidence glimmering in those crimson eyes fell slightly dark. "With respect, I do not need someone else to speak to me of my own misfortune; I am plenty aware of it on my own. I am sure you understand my reluctance in this regard."

"That's kinda the point, though, isn't it?" Karen spread her arms wide. "I know we don't know each other that well, Kurosaki-san, but Producer-san wants to help, and having heard about your situation, I wanna help, too. If there's something you need to get off your chest, I'm—"

"I know you mean well," Chitose interjected. She coughed quietly, hiding her cough behind her fist as though letting the sound escape might somehow betray some unseen weakness. "But I am loath to discuss my ailment with people beyond my closest circle of trust. You seem the kind of person I would like to get to know, but that is not the current state of our relationship. In that, I mean to cause no offence."

"None taken." Karen shook her head. "I know exactly how you feel. I just—"

"Then you also know what it means to have people see you not for who you are, but for the darkness that lurks within your body." Chitose smiled, though the smile contained no mirth. "And what it means to feel that no one truly understands the anguish of fighting that lonely battle every day, every hour, every moment."

"I do know that. That's why I'm here, right?" Karen said as she wrestled with the exasperation that was slowly creeping into her voice. "I've fought that battle before. I've fought it almost my whole life."

"And you have won, and you can only be congratulated for that. My battle, though…" Chitose turned to stare out the window, gazing at the late afternoon sun as its orange rays streamed through the glass, casting the specks of dust floating about the lounge into sparkling focus. "Fighting it is a fool's errand. As is your coming here to console me."

"Yet you keep on fighting, nonetheless," Karen replied determinedly. "You'd only do that if you thought there was some use in doing so, wouldn't you?"

"Futility and utility are not mutually exclusive. There's only one person for whom I struggle day by day, and it is not myself."

"…Shirayuki-san, right?"

Chitose pressed her lips tightly together, but did not reply. Karen took her silence as a sign to continue.

"You know," she said, "I talked to Shirayuki-san for a bit at the office this morning."

For once, Chitose's curiosity appeared piqued, and she leaned forward, letting her flowing golden hair fall carelessly in front of her neck. "About what?"

"Well, there's only one thing we could've talked about," Karen noted dryly. "She sure dotes on you. You're one lucky gal, to have someone as openly devoted to you as she is. I wish Nao would… well, never mind that."

Amusement tugged at the corners of Chitose's lips as she plopped another crisp in her mouth. "I'm always counting my blessings. What did Chiyo-chan say about me?"

"That she…" Karen hesitated, pausing to consider how best she ought to express what she wanted to disclose. Then, she spoke again, this time with a renewed vigor. "That she thought you were stubborn and mischievous, but also compassionate. And that she appreciated all those sides of you."

"Oh, really?" Chitose lazily licked the crumbs off her fingers, her smile taking on a more impish flair. "Sounds like someone is asking to be… disciplined… later tonight."

Karen shuddered to imagine what sort of 'disciplining' might go on behind the closed doors of this palatial complex in the dark of night, and she thought better of querying further. "It's my fault, really," she added hurriedly. "I was the one who asked her about what kinda person you were in the first place. The fact that you became an idol as well just to convince her to join you, despite your overall condition, is… admirable. It really is. For what it's worth, it took a lot of cajoling and coaxing by the Producer just to get to the point where I could regularly motivate myself to carry on, even on the days when I felt like crap."

"I am much more than my illness. A little anemia won't stop me from taking Chiyo-chan to where she needs to go."

"I don't doubt it. Yet… is that what you personally want to do? Becoming an idol, I mean. It's nice that you're doing this, don't get me wrong, but—"

"It seems you're mistaken about something, Houjou-san. I am not the selfless, altruistic martyr you make me out to be." Chitose shrugged. "Being an idol is a thoroughly gratifying experience. All the lessons, singing, dancing, meet-and-greets, performing with my peers in front of the watching world… it grants my life a meaning it would not otherwise have had. I don't intend to spend the last vestiges of my energy on something that I feel is not worthwhile, whether for Chiyo-chan or for myself. I want to be an idol – my infirmity does not change that. Quite the contrary, actually."

"I… yeah." Karen stared down at her knees, awkwardness flushing her features. How could she say something like that when, like Chitose, being an idol was what got her out of bed every morning, granting her something to look forward to, something to truly live for? Besides, Chiyo had said as much herself: Chitose loved what she did. She would not have made it this far otherwise. "My bad. I didn't mean to make it sound like you were just throwing the rest of your days away on Shirayuki-san's behalf."

"Rest assured I didn't take it that way." Chitose clapped, her eyes widening in realization. "Speaking of which, there's something I would like to show you, though it may have to wait until nightfall. Why not join us for dinner in the meantime?"

Karen's stomach twinged at the unexpected mention of food. "Can I really?" she asked tentatively.

"Of course; the more the merrier. In fact, if there's anything you would like to eat, just say the word."

"Oh, no. I'd hate to impose too much."

"I insist. Besides," Chitose said, a mischievous glint evident in her ruby irises, "I would like to know more about you, including the foods you enjoy. That's why you are here today, is it not? For us to get to know each other better?"

"I guess you're right." Karen paused, her forehead crinkling as she sank into thought for a few moments. After some deliberation, she settled on something she hoped might be highbrow enough for Chitose's rarefied tastes. "Then, what about… gratin?"

"…Gratin?"

"Gratin. That's… kinda all I can think of wanting to eat right now."

Chitose put her fist to her mouth again, though this time, it was to suppress a chortle. "I must say, I was not expecting that," she chuckled. "Not to worry, I am sure we have more than enough food left to feed the three of us. I will send Chiyo-chan a text so she can start preparing once she returns."

"She does the cooking as well?" Karen whistled. "Impressive."

"We used to have a personal chef on call when we needed one, but he left because we never actually called. So now, Chiyo-chan does all the cooking, just as she's always done. She knows my tastes far better than anyone else, perhaps even myself." She got to her feet and beckoned Karen to follow suit, whisking the crisp packets off the table as she rose. "I am in the mood for watching a show I have been following lately, if you'd care to join me in our TV room. We can discuss such morbid matters once we have had our fill of dinner."