For the past eight years, Hikaru Kamiki had lived in a universe of his own careful weaving. From the shadows, he watched as his masterpiece, the boy he had found in such heartbreaking circumstances, blossomed before the eyes of the world. It was almost poetic to him; the boy who had been a reflection of his own broken past was now a rising star, the center of attention Hikaru had planned for him to be. But to Hikaru, this was much more than just the rise of a new celebrity. This was his masterpiece, the grandest show he had ever directed, and his pupil's every move was a carefully choreographed part of his dark plan.
The boy, now a young prodigy, had won the hearts of the audience with his talent and charisma. Under Hikaru's strict and calculated tutelage, he had learned to handle the cameras, manipulate the audience's emotions, and excel on any stage. Every smile, every tear he shed in front of the cameras was calculated, designed by Hikaru to capture the public's attention and deflect any gaze that might be cast upon him. To everyone, the young man was a rising star, a young and passionate artist who radiated purity and authenticity. But to Hikaru, he was much more than that: he was his shield, his smokescreen, the perfect decoy that allowed him to move in the shadows undetected.
Hikaru dedicated himself to molding the boy with the precision of a sculptor, devoting entire years to polishing every aspect of his public persona. He left nothing to chance. He taught him to speak eloquently, to handle interviews, to generate empathy in the public. He knew that the world of show business could be ruthless, but he also knew that, if he managed to position him in the right way, the boy would become an untouchable icon. That was the key: to build an image so perfect that no one would dare to question it. And he succeeded. The young man was now a symbol of hope and talent in the industry, an admired and respected figure, while Hikaru remained in the shadows, watching everything with satisfaction.
But the young man's public life was not the only thing Hikaru had worked on. In private, he had trained him differently, instilling in him a completely distorted worldview. Through years of subtle and calculated manipulation, Hikaru had planted in him the idea that his success was not only a gift, but also a responsibility. He made him believe that his rise had a higher purpose: to protect the memory of someone Hikaru described as the "brightest star who ever lived." He never mentioned Ai's name directly, but he constantly alluded to her, painting her as an unattainable ideal, a figure who deserved to be honored at all costs.
This distorted narrative became the young man's core. He grew up believing that his success was not just for himself, but to keep alive the memory of that almost mythical figure Hikaru described with sick devotion. The young man never questioned this narrative; after all, Hikaru was the only father figure he had ever known, the only mentor who had ever been there for him. And so, without realizing it, the young man became not just a tool, but a fervent believer in Hikaru's purpose.
Meanwhile, Hikaru continued with his primary mission: eliminating those who, in his twisted perception, threatened to tarnish Ai's memory. Over these years, he had perfected his method, using his pupil's fame as a perfect distraction. Whenever he identified someone he considered a threat—be it a promising actor, a rising singer, or any figure who could tarnish Ai's memory—he carefully planned their downfall. His pupil's fame gave him a perfect alibi, while his connections in the entertainment world gave him access to privileged information about his targets.
Each elimination was executed with surgical precision. Hikaru left no loose ends. He knew that any mistake could be his downfall, and so he planned every move months in advance. He used his vast network of contacts to gather information, to ensure that each disappearance looked like an accident or an isolated incident. And every time he managed to eliminate someone, he felt a dark satisfaction, as if he were purifying the world in Ai's name.
For the past eight years, Hikaru Kamiki had lived in a universe of his own careful weaving. From the shadows, he watched as his masterpiece, the boy he had found in such heartbreaking circumstances, blossomed before the eyes of the world. It was almost poetic to him; the boy who had been a reflection of his own broken past was now a rising star, the center of attention Hikaru had planned for him to be. But to Hikaru, this was much more than just the rise of a new celebrity. This was his masterpiece, the grandest show he had ever directed, and his pupil's every move was a carefully choreographed part of his dark plan.
The boy, now a young prodigy, had won the hearts of the audience with his talent and charisma. Under Hikaru's strict and calculated tutelage, he had learned to handle the cameras, manipulate the audience's emotions, and excel on any stage. Every smile, every tear he shed in front of the cameras was calculated, designed by Hikaru to capture the public's attention and deflect any gaze that might be cast upon him. To everyone, the young man was a rising star, a young and passionate artist who radiated purity and authenticity. But to Hikaru, he was much more than that: he was his shield, his smokescreen, the perfect decoy that allowed him to move in the shadows undetected.
Hikaru dedicated himself to molding the boy with the precision of a sculptor, devoting entire years to polishing every aspect of his public persona. He left nothing to chance. He taught him to speak eloquently, to handle interviews, to generate empathy in the public. He knew that the world of show business could be ruthless, but he also knew that, if he managed to position him in the right way, the boy would become an untouchable icon. That was the key: to build an image so perfect that no one would dare to question it. And he succeeded. The young man was now a symbol of hope and talent in the industry, an admired and respected figure, while Hikaru remained in the shadows, watching everything with satisfaction.
But the young man's public life was not the only thing Hikaru had worked on. In private, he had trained him differently, instilling in him a completely distorted worldview. Through years of subtle and calculated manipulation, Hikaru had planted in him the idea that his success was not only a gift, but also a responsibility. He made him believe that his rise had a higher purpose: to protect the memory of someone Hikaru described as the "brightest star who ever lived." He never mentioned Ai's name directly, but he constantly alluded to her, painting her as an unattainable ideal, a figure who deserved to be honored at all costs.
This distorted narrative became the young man's core. He grew up believing that his success was not just for himself, but to keep alive the memory of that almost mythical figure Hikaru described with sick devotion. The young man never questioned this narrative; after all, Hikaru was the only father figure he had ever known, the only mentor who had ever been there for him. And so, without realizing it, the young man became not just a tool, but a fervent believer in Hikaru's purpose.
Meanwhile, Hikaru continued with his primary mission: eliminating those who, in his twisted perception, threatened to tarnish Ai's memory. Over these years, he had perfected his method, using his pupil's fame as a perfect distraction. Whenever he identified someone he considered a threat—be it a promising actor, a rising singer, or any figure who could tarnish Ai's memory—he carefully planned their downfall. His pupil's fame gave him a perfect alibi, while his connections in the entertainment world gave him access to privileged information about his targets.
Each elimination was executed with surgical precision. Hikaru left no loose ends. He knew that any mistake could be his downfall, and so he planned every move months in advance. He used his vast network of contacts to gather information, to ensure that each disappearance looked like an accident or an isolated incident. And every time he managed to eliminate someone, he felt a dark satisfaction, as if he were purifying the world in Ai's name.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Naruto Edwards Uzumaki walked backstage with a relaxed, almost disinterested attitude, while the people around him moved with urgency, carrying photographic equipment, cameras and other tools necessary for the day's shoot. He was the center of attention, as always, and he knew it. At 15 years old, Naruto had established himself as the most promising star of the moment, a prodigy who had captivated the public since he was a child. The nickname "Rising Sun" not only referred to his Japanese origin, but also to his unique appearance: his bright yellow hair, which seemed to capture the light of the spotlights as if it were an extension of his own energy, and his aristocratic features inherited from his British ancestry, made him stand out wherever he went.
As he walked, he could feel the eyes on him. Technicians, producers, stylists, everyone seemed to stop for a second to observe him, even if only out of the corner of his eye. It was a mix of admiration and fear that their eyes conveyed, and Naruto enjoyed every second of it. He knew that to these people, he was much more than just a teenager; he was a symbol, a money machine, and, to some, even an unattainable figure. But what no one knew, what no one could imagine, was that all that image was just that: an image, a mask carefully crafted by years of manipulation and training under the tutelage of Hikaru Kamiki.
For as long as he could remember, Naruto had been immersed in show business. By age 7, he was already a familiar face in commercials and small roles, but it was his innate talent and charisma that led him to quickly rise in the industry. To the public, he was a young prodigy, an example of discipline and dedication. But behind the scenes, when the spotlights went out and the masks fell, Naruto was a completely different person.
Raised by a man whose mind was broken, it was inevitable that Naruto would absorb some of that darkness. Hikaru, his mentor and the only father figure he had ever known, had shaped him not only as an artist, but also as a reflection of his own distorted view of the world. Since he was a child, Naruto had learned to perform not only on stage, but also in life. He had learned to show what people wanted to see, to hide his true thoughts and emotions behind an impeccable facade. And he did it masterfully. To everyone, he was a charismatic, humble and dedicated young man. But when the curtains closed, Naruto stopped being the "Rising Sun" and became who he really was: a self-centered, arrogant teenager, and, in many ways, a reflection of his mentor.
Naruto saw the world of show business as a game, an entertainment rather than a true passion. To him, every interview, every performance, every photo shoot, was just an opportunity to play with people's perception, to manipulate them as if they were pieces on a chess board. He knew he was in control, that with a simple smile he could win the sympathy of the audience, and with a tear he could become the tragic hero everyone loved. But what he truly enjoyed was the power it gave him. The power to be whoever he wanted to be in front of others and at the same time hide his true self.
That true self was complicated, full of contradictions and shadows. Naruto had grown up under the teachings of Hikaru, who had instilled in him a completely distorted worldview. He had taught him that success was not just an achievement, but a tool, a means to a greater end. He had instilled in him the idea that his place in show business was not just for his personal gain, but to serve a higher purpose, though that purpose had never been entirely clear to him. All he knew was that, in some way, he was meant to protect something or someone, though he had never really understood what or why.
Over the years, Naruto had begun to question some of the things Hikaru had taught him, but never enough to turn away from him. Deep down, he knew that Hikaru was no ordinary man, that there was something deeply disturbing about his way of seeing the world and his methods. But at the same time, there was a part of Naruto that admired that darkness, that saw it as a source of power. Hikaru had taught him to be strong, to not show weakness, to use people to his advantage. And Naruto had learned those lessons perfectly.
Offstage, Naruto allowed himself to be who he truly was. He surrounded himself with people who admired him and followed him without question, enjoying the attention and control he exerted over them. He was a playboy, an arrogant young man who enjoyed the power his fame gave him. He liked to play with the emotions of others, to manipulate them for his own entertainment. To him, people were pieces in a game, and he was the master player.
But despite his apparent nonchalance, there was something about Naruto that kept him connected to his mentor. Although he came across as confident and arrogant, there were times when a shadow of doubt crossed his mind. Sometimes, he wondered if he was really free, if his life was really his own, or if it was simply an extension of Hikaru's plan. But those questions never lasted long. Naruto knew that questioning too much could lead him to dark places, and he preferred to stay on the surface, enjoying the game that was his life.
As he walked backstage, he heard the whispers of admiration around him and felt a dark satisfaction. He knew that all those flashes, all those cameras, were there for him. He was the "Rising Sun," the young prodigy who had conquered the world of show business. But he also knew that, behind that light, there were shadows. And those shadows were what truly defined him.
He advanced towards the center of the studio, completely ignoring the stares and murmurs that followed him like shadows. In front of him, the green screen stretched out like an empty canvas, waiting to be transformed by the magic of post-processing. The director of photography, a middle-aged man with a professional but predictable demeanor, began to give him instructions in a meticulously controlled voice. Each word was laden with a mix of authority and reverence, as if he were afraid of making a mistake in front of the young star in front of him.
Naruto, however, barely listened to him. His face remained serene, with a carefully neutral expression that he had perfected over the years. Every pose, every little movement he made, seemed effortless, as if it came naturally to him. But inside him, a storm of irritation was brewing. He hated these photography sessions, hated having to follow the instructions of someone he considered inferior. To him, the photographer was just another ordinary person trying to make a living in his shadow. Why should he have to obey him? But he did, because he knew it was necessary. In the game of showmanship, appearances were everything, and Naruto knew how to play that game better than anyone.
What really sparked his annoyance, however, was hearing his last name. Edwards. Every time the photographer or anyone else called him "Edwards," it was like they stuck a thorn in his mind, reminding him of something he'd rather forget. That last name wasn't his by choice; it was an unwanted legacy, a curse that had been placed upon him. It belonged to the woman who had ruined his childhood, the woman who had destroyed any chance of him having a normal life before Hikaru had found him. To Naruto, "Edwards" was a constant reminder of his pain, of his weakness, of what he had been before he became what he was now.
Worst of all was knowing that his mentor had chosen that last name deliberately. It hadn't been an oversight or a coincidence. Hikaru had given it to him as a twisted joke, a way to constantly remind him of his past, to make sure he never forgot where he came from. Naruto knew that for Hikaru, the surname was a tool of control, a way to keep him under his influence. And it worked. Every time someone called him "Edwards", Naruto felt a mix of anger and helplessness. It was as if Hikaru was laughing from the shadows, enjoying the torment it caused him.
The shoot continued, and Naruto struggled to maintain his composure. Every time he heard his last name come out of the photographer's lips, he felt his irritation grow, but he hid it with a perfectly calculated smile. He knew he couldn't afford to lose control, not in front of these people. Showbiz was a stage, and he was the lead. Showing weakness was not an option.
When the shoot was finally over, Naruto allowed himself a sigh of relief. He said goodbye to the team with mechanical politeness, maintaining the charismatic young star mask everyone expected of him. But inside, he was furious. As he walked out of the studio, he began planning his next move. He knew Hikaru was keeping a close eye on him, but he also knew that, given time, he could find a way to hit him where it hurt the most, and he left his apartment and walked away from the photography studio.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He slammed the door shut behind him, and the atmosphere of his apartment greeted him like an invasion of silence, the same that always enveloped him when he came home from a session or any other engagement. A disturbing silence that only highlighted how empty his life was, despite the shiny facade he showed to the world. The star mask that had been carefully molded for years, all that people saw and admired, finally fell when he was alone, sheltering himself from prying eyes.
Wasting no time, he let out all the anger he had built up over hours of forced smiles and empty courtesies. With a stifled roar, he kicked the first thing he found in his path: a small, wooden table, which tipped over at the impact of his fury. The objects on top of it fell to the floor with a thunderous metallic sound, but Naruto didn't stop there. His body tense, as if anger was pushing him to do more damage, he continued to vent as he looked at the mess he had created. In his mind, the object of his rage was clear: Hikaru Kamiki. His mentor, his jailer, the person who had made him what he was.
"Edwards..." he muttered under his breath, repeating that cursed surname that, try as he might, he could never shake off. To Hikaru, the surname was more than just a name. It was a mark, a chain that he could not escape, even if the thought of it burned him inside. He knew that if he dared to defy it, if he rebelled against that mark, the consequences would be fatal. Hikaru was not the kind of person to be trifled with. He was cunning, manipulative, and if there was one thing he liked, it was having absolute control over the lives of those he considered "property."
The young Uzumaki sat heavily in the nearby armchair, his breathing ragged with anger, but knowing that he had to calm himself if he wanted to think clearly. Even though rage consumed him, he could not allow himself to be reckless. He had learned his lesson over the years: any misstep could be fatal. And Hikaru watched him constantly, just like the shadows that stalked the stars. He knew that his mentor had the ability to crush him if he decided he was no longer useful. Or worse, if he saw him as a threat.
Naruto closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting calm begin to restore order to his mind, a mind that had always been on the verge of collapse. There was something about that contained anger that kept him on his toes, kept him focused on his purpose. If he wanted to escape Hikaru's control, if he wanted to break free from his influence, he had to understand more about him first. He couldn't remain a pawn on his master's board. There was something, something he didn't fully understand yet, that he had to discover in order to deal him a definitive blow.
Then, like a flash in his mind, a question arose between the shadows of his consciousness: What kind of relationship did Hikaru have with Ai Hoshino? That woman, Ai Hoshino, had been a star before him, and according to the stories Naruto had heard in his youth, her life had been shrouded in mystery and tragedy. She had died many years before, but her name remained a shadow that loomed over Hikaru's past. There was something about that relationship, something dark that Naruto had vaguely sensed, but never dared to ask directly.
The image of Ai Hoshino blurred in his mind, but the memory of her name remained intact, and the connection to Hikaru was undeniable. Everyone knew that Ai had been one of the most promising artists of her time, a woman who had captured the public's imagination with her talent and beauty. But it wasn't just that that had made Naruto feel like there was something more behind that connection. It was the way Hikaru spoke of her. It was always with a mix of sadness and nostalgia, as if he couldn't let her go, as if he still had her tied to him, even after his death.
Naruto leaned back in the armchair, his thoughts floating like distant echoes in his mind. He couldn't help but wonder if the hatred he felt towards Hikaru had something to do with that woman. Had Hikaru been responsible for her death? Naruto knew that the world of showbiz was full of darkness and secrets, but this was different. This wasn't just a game of fame and ambitions, it was something much more personal, something that touched the very core of human emotions, something that couldn't be explained with words alone.
The young Uzumaki stood up from the armchair, pacing back and forth as he analyzed the pieces of this puzzle. He knew that Hikaru had manipulated everything in his life since he was a child, but Ai Hoshino seemed to be the only element that had truly affected his mentor in a deep way, though he wasn't sure how or why. It couldn't just be Ai's fame, it couldn't just be that. There was something else that Hikaru had kept hidden, something that dated back to his relationship with her.
"What the hell happened between them?" Naruto muttered, his voice low and raspy as he thought about the answer. He hadn't the slightest idea, but something inside him told him that he had to find out. That information could be the key to finally gaining his freedom. If Hikaru had been responsible for Ai's death, then he had a weakness, a vulnerability that Naruto could use to his own advantage. Plus, if he managed to find out what had happened between them, he could better understand the control Hikaru had over his own life.
As he walked to his desk, Naruto began to search through the messy papers on his table. He pulled out his mobile phone, realizing that he needed more information, something that wasn't so buried in the shadows. He needed to talk to someone who could give him the answers that he couldn't find on his own. And maybe, just maybe, in those broken and dark memories, he could find the missing piece to complete his plan. The star of the show wasn't going to be just a puppet, much less was he going to continue to be under Hikaru Kamiki's shadow. To do so, he first needed to find out everything he could about Ai Hoshino's death and how it had shaped the course of his life.
As the city lights continued to shine outside the window, Naruto began to formulate his plan. He knew that if Hikaru ever found out that he was investigating Ai, the consequences would be disastrous. But he couldn't stop now. The truth had to come out, and if that meant destroying his mentor, then that was what he had to do.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Time passed almost imperceptibly for Naruto Uzumaki, like the breath of a leaf blown by the wind, light and silent, but with a devastating force within it. Three weeks had passed since his last outburst of anger, and while the world continued to applaud his star-like perfection, he sank deeper and deeper into the shadows, where his mind and intentions sharpened with each passing day. In public he was still the bright and charming teenager, but in private, he used every moment to unravel the secrets that Hikaru Kamiki had kept carefully hidden, like a cursed puzzle that finally seemed to begin to fit together.
Naruto had learned more about his mentor than he ever imagined. Hikaru had not only manipulated his life, but also the lives of other people. What surprised him most was the discovery of Hikaru's children, two twins who had been off everyone's radar, hidden in some corner of the world as if they were ghosts, invisible to the eyes of society. A man and a woman. All this time, Naruto thought Hikaru had no close family, but what he found was far more complex. These two twins had not been an active part of their mentor's public life, which was strange, even for someone like Hikaru, who was not afraid to manipulate the pieces of his own game. And that only meant one thing: there was something more to them. Something that had remained hidden.
This discovery was not something Naruto intended to ignore. His mind began to spin with possibilities. If there was one thing he had learned from his time with Hikaru, it was that control was the key to everything. What better way to take control than to insert himself into these children's lives, into their world, as a specter who seemed to want the best for them? He could be the perfect actor in this new play, the silent guide, the mentor who did not need to be acknowledged, the one who would push these twins towards a tragedy that would hopefully play out according to his script. He just needed to do things right, take the right steps, and everything would fall into place.
Naruto smiled at the image forming in his mind. He, who had always been seen as the star of the show, now saw himself as a hidden director, a puppeteer pulling the strings from the shadows. Hikaru had been a master, but now, with this new information, Naruto could be the puppeteer. This was his chance to start a show of his own, one where he was not only a key piece, but the only one who could manipulate the outcome. The twins would be his actors, his instrument of revenge.
The idea that the twins were part of his own plan began to take shape as he continued to investigate. The fact that both of them, despite being Hikaru's children, were relatively unknown gave him the advantage. No one had linked them to their mentor, and that gave Naruto a free field to work in. In fact, their greatest advantage was that they could move around without raising suspicion, without anyone watching them closely.
He knew the first thing he had to do was enter their lives without causing too much alarm. He couldn't just show up and demand answers. No, that wasn't his style. His plan required subtlety, something far more calculated. According to the information he'd gathered, the twins would be attending Yoto High School in a week, a prestigious institute where elite students were groomed to shine in the future. It was the perfect place to make his move, the ideal environment for the twins to be drawn to his presence without knowing they were being manipulated.
Naruto had already begun honing his image again: the kind star, the young talent who had everything ahead of him. His reputation in show business preceded him, and if he managed to approach the twins in the right context, as an "older brother" who had been acclaimed for his work in the industry, it would be easier for him to gain their trust. The next step was to infiltrate the institution without seeming like a threat, establish connections with the right people, and gain the twins' sympathy, making them believe he was there to guide them. Naruto knew that as part of his plan, he had to take on the role of mentor without being obvious, letting the pieces fall into place on their own.
With a firm plan in mind, Naruto began to prepare the way. He knew that Hikaru, being busy with his own agenda of "purification," wouldn't have the slightest idea of what was going on. The fact that the twins were a minor part of his life, according to the information he had found, only gave him more freedom to act without his mentor finding out. Plus, there was something perversely pleasing about the idea that Hikaru would never suspect that he was being watched all the time, that his legacy could be destroyed from the shadows, without him being able to do anything to stop it.
The idea of getting close to the twins was not only revenge, but a way to gain more control over Hikaru's life, but also to secure his own future. The twins were his card out of his mentor's game. If he manipulated the pieces just right, he could make one of them the instrument of his own destiny, the one that would, finally, take over the control that Hikaru had held for so long.
Meanwhile, Naruto couldn't help but feel excited about the opportunity. This was the kind of opportunity that had eluded him in his youth, the one where he had always wanted to be in the driver's seat, dictating the rules of the game. Now, with everything he had learned, he could not only influence the twins' future, but also change the course of his own life, finally breaking free from the shackles of his mentor.
It was only a matter of time before the show began. And when it did, no one would be able to stop it. Neither Hikaru, nor the world watching, would be able to understand what was about to happen. Because Naruto Uzumaki wasn't just going to be the star of the show; he was going to be the sole director.
And end of the chapter