Episode 1: Let's Get the Tapes Rolling
Opening Scene – Behind the Set
The studio lights hung like miniature suns, flooding the stage with a harsh, artificial glow. The camera rigs whirred softly as they adjusted focus, capturing every breath, every flicker of expression on the star of the moment—Sun Jia.
From behind the set, Kaede Tetsuo watched, heart hammering against his ribs.
The crowd was buzzing with excitement. Even in the dimly lit backstage area, he could hear the murmurs of admiration, the whispers of her name. Sun Jia wasn't just anyone anymore.
She was a Raider.
A Hunter.
A symbol of strength.
Kaede pushed his glasses up his nose, unconsciously tightening his grip on his notepad. His mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts, but he forced himself to stay calm. He had prepared for this. He knew everything about Sun Jia. Every stat, every battle record, every achievement since she had joined the elite class.
And now, she was sitting on that stage, dressed in sleek battle attire, answering questions with poise and confidence.
"She's amazing," Kaede murmured under his breath.
"You sound like you're writing a love letter," Suki teased, elbowing him lightly.
Kaede's face flushed. "I—It's not like that! I just—"
"Oh, it's exactly like that," Ki added with a smirk, crossing his arms. "You talk about her more than you talk about school, and that's saying something."
Suki giggled. "Honestly, Kaede, it's kind of cute."
Kaede groaned. His fingers curled tighter around the edges of his notepad, and he shrank back, trying to ignore his rapidly rising body temperature.
The reality was, they weren't wrong.
He'd known Sun Jia before all of this.
Back then, she was just another classmate—quiet, reserved, unnoticed. They had spent time together, exchanging books, studying after school, even walking home sometimes. She had been one of the few people who actually talked to him without teasing him.
But then, everything changed.
The day she became a Raider, she ascended. She left their class, left their conversations, left him behind.
Now, she sat under the blazing studio lights, her voice steady and assured as she answered Ken's questions.
Ken—Kaede's least favorite person.
Ken was one of the senior reporters in their school's broadcasting club, a smooth talker who always knew how to get under Kaede's skin.
"I don't get it," Kaede muttered, his brows furrowing. "Why did Ken let me backstage? He doesn't even like me."
Suki shrugged. "Maybe he's feeling generous."
Ki, however, didn't look so convinced. "Or maybe he's up to something."
Kaede swallowed hard.
The interview continued.
Ken leaned forward, his trademark grin plastered across his face. "Tell me, Sun Jia, do you ever fear death?"
The question hung in the air.
For a moment, the studio fell silent.
Sun Jia blinked. Her gaze sharpened, and for a split second, Kaede saw something flicker in her eyes—a glint of something deeper, something hidden.
Then, she smiled. Smooth, effortless.
"Fear is what keeps you alive."
The crowd murmured in admiration.
Kaede felt his chest tighten.
She's changed.
The Sun Jia he knew wouldn't have answered so confidently. She would have hesitated, fumbled for words. But now, she was someone entirely different.
Embarrassing Moment – The Reporter's Trick
The studio lights still burned bright as Sun Jia stood up, preparing to leave. The interview had ended, and she had played her part with the effortless grace that made her so popular. The audience was still buzzing, hanging on to her every movement.
Then—Ken struck.
"Wait, wait, wait! Before we wrap up," he said, raising a hand theatrically. His voice echoed through the studio speakers, full of mock excitement.
Sun Jia turned back, her expression neutral but mildly disinterested. "What is it?"
Ken grinned. "I thought it would be a crime to let you leave without meeting one of your biggest fans. Someone who has admired you for years."
Kaede, who had been trying to shrink into the shadows backstage, froze.
No.
Nononono.
A horrible sense of dread clawed at his stomach as Ken turned directly to him.
"Everyone, give a big round of applause for our very own Kaede Tetsuo, he never gets a lot of that!"
Kaede's soul left his body.
The entire audience turned to look at him. His heart stopped, restarted, then slammed against his ribs in protest.
Suki and Ki gasped.
"Oh. My. God." Ki whispered.
"You're dead," Suki muttered.
Before Kaede could react, Ken held up a sheet of paper. A familiar sheet of paper.
Kaede's eyes widened.
His poem.
The one he had written in secret.
The one he had never intended for anyone to see.
Ken cleared his throat, dramatically unfolding the page. "Ahem. Let's hear what our dear Kaede has to say about Sun Jia."
Kaede's entire body locked up. His brain went into full shutdown mode.
Ken read aloud.
"Her steps, like wind through sakura leaves, gentle but unshaken.
Her blade sings, a melody of steel and fate.
She is the moonlight over darkened streets—
A beacon, a warrior, a legend in bloom."
A long silence.
Then—eruption.
The entire studio exploded in laughter.
Suki clapped both hands over her mouth. Ki was wheezing. The camera crew exchanged knowing glances. The audience roared.
Kaede wished the earth would swallow him whole.
He had to get that poem back.
Somehow, his body moved before his mind caught up. A blind, panicked lunge.
"GIVE ME THAT!"
In his desperation, Kaede stumbled onto the stage.
Ken dodged him effortlessly, stepping back with a smirk. Kaede, however, did not stop. His momentum carried him forward—straight toward Sun Jia.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Her expression was unreadable, caught somewhere between confusion and mild horror.
Then, at the last second, she stepped aside.
Kaede's foot caught the edge of the platform. His balance vanished.
And just like that—he crashed face-first into the floor.
Hard.
The mic feedback screeched. A cup of water on the table tipped over, spilling across the stage. Someone gasped.
Then—more laughter.
Ken was howling.
"Damn, Kaede, I didn't know you'd take 'falling for her' so literally!"
Suki and Ki tried (and failed) to stifle their own laughter. The audience was eating this up. Even Sun Jia, though not laughing, let out a quiet, awkward sigh.
Kaede lifted his head slowly. His glasses were crooked. His face burned with humiliation.
This was the worst moment of his entire life.
Ken crouched beside him, offering the poem back with a smirk. He had won.
"Here you go, lover boy."
Sun Jia didn't say a word. She simply turned and walked away.
Kaede squeezed his eyes shut.
Yeah. He was never recovering from this.
Train Ride Home – A Life of Failures
Kaede slumped into his seat on the crowded train, pulling his hood over his head as the city lights blurred past the windows. The train was alive with chatter, news flashes, and digital billboards showcasing the latest headlines.
"Raiders secure victory in the Southern Zone!"
"Government announces new sponsorship program for elite hunters!"
"Disastrous raid failure in up north, Hurricane anticipated in the following hours – casualties reported."
He sighed, sinking lower. The world outside was always talking about them. The heroes. The warriors. The ones who mattered.
A muffled sniffle beside him made him glance sideways.
A little boy, no older than four, sat beside his mother, his tiny shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs.
Kaede hesitated. He was terrible with kids, but... he knew what it felt like to cry alone.
Awkwardly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a coin.
"Hey, kid," he said, forcing a smile. "Wanna see a magic trick?"
The boy sniffled, looking up with watery eyes. His mother barely spared Kaede a glance.
Kaede flipped the coin into the air, attempting a smooth sleight of hand. Just as he was about to make it disappear—
A sudden sneeze wrecked the entire trick.
The coin slipped, hitting the boy on the forehead before bouncing onto the train floor.
Silence.
The child blinked, then wailed louder.
The mother glared at Kaede, grabbing her son and pulling him closer. Her expression screamed 'disappointment.'
"Uh—I was just—" Kaede stammered.
She ignored him.
Another sneeze exploded out of him. His nose was burning, his sinuses screaming from whatever perfume the woman was wearing. Damn allergies.
Kaede groaned and buried his face in his hands.
Another failure. Another embarrassment.
The train rattled forward, and Kaede turned his eyes to the window.
Outside, a massive digital billboard lit up the night sky.
A montage of legendary raiders played, their figures cast in golden light, standing atop ruined cities and defeated monsters. Their names shone in bold letters, symbols of strength and greatness.
This was what people admired.
This was what the world cared about.
And Kaede?
He had never been strong.
His entire life had been one long series of failures.
As a child, he had been the punching bag for neighborhood bullies. At school, he was invisible—except when he was being laughed at. He had never been fast, never been brave, never stood up for himself.
And tonight had only proved how small he really was.
But still—he wasn't completely useless.
He had chosen to be a journalist, hadn't he?
Even if he couldn't be a hero, he could at least tell their stories.
It was the only way he could be a part of something bigger. Even if it was minuscule.
Kaede let out a bitter chuckle, muttering under his breath.
"What a joke."
The train slowed to a stop. He sighed, pushing himself up—only to freeze.
His pocket.
It was empty.
His wallet was gone.
Kaede turned sharply, eyes darting around—then landed on the mother and child, who were already stepping off the train.
He stared.
No way.
Had she—?
The doors slid shut. The train lurched forward.
Kaede slumped back down, rubbing his temples.
"…Great."
With no money for a cab, he pulled his hood lower and stepped onto the streets.
He'd have to walk home.
Again.
His feet dragged, his body felt heavier than before.
Somewhere in the distance, another billboard shone. Another hero's face. Another reminder of everything he wasn't.
Kaede sighed.
He had never felt more worthless.
Home – The Loser's Sanctuary
Kaede's neighborhood was as forgettable as he was—a quiet, rundown district where streetlights flickered uncertainly and the air smelled of damp concrete and convenience store leftovers. It wasn't a slum, but it wasn't the kind of place anyone cared about either.
He trudged up the narrow staircase to his apartment, the familiar creak of old wood greeting him like an old friend.
Sliding the door open, he was met with the soft glow of the TV, playing some late-night talk show.
His grandmother dozed off in her favorite chair, her frail form wrapped in a thick, knitted blanket. A half-empty cup of tea sat on the low table beside her, long gone cold.
The only other resident who acknowledged his return was Kiko, his lazy, overweight cat, who lay sprawled across the tatami mat, barely flicking an ear in greeting.
"Hey, Kiko."
Kiko blinked slowly, then yawned. Translation: 'You're late. Where's my food?'
Kaede sighed, stepping into his tiny room.
It was cluttered, but not with trophies, awards, or anything impressive.
No, his walls were lined with Sun Jia posters.
Images of her mid-battle, striking heroic poses, smiling in official event photos. She was everywhere—a shrine to someone he admired but would never have.
He dropped his bag onto the floor and grabbed a can of cat food, dumping it into Kiko's dish before feeding his equally uninterested goldfish.
His fingers hovered over his laptop for a moment.
He needed a distraction.
Humiliation Goes Viral
Click.
His screen flashed to life, and almost immediately, he regretted it.
The internet was buzzing.
And it was all about him.
His heart sank as he saw Ken's latest post.
The clip of his embarrassing crash-and-burn with Sun Jia had already gone viral.
Even the school forums were flooded with memes.
He scrolled through the comments, even though he knew he shouldn't.
"Who is this idiot?"
"Cringe overload."
"Sun Jia deserves better fans."
Kaede squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head onto his desk.
Even Kiko seemed to be mocking him, lazily stretching as if to say, 'Pathetic.'
"...I hate my life."
He staggered to the fridge and pulled out his favorite ice cream, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. The cold, sweet taste was one of the few things that could pull him back from the abyss of self-loathing.
At least ice cream didn't judge him.
Still sulking, he absentmindedly scrolled through news headlines, looking for something—anything—to pull his mind away from his latest humiliation.
Then, he saw it.
A Call for Heroes – The Kanagawa Family
Kaede's spoon stopped mid-air.
Breaking news flashed across his screen:
"Akihiko, the sole heir of the Kanagawa family and it's many secrets, issues a public call for warriors."
His eyes widened.
Akihiko Kanagawa.
And he was asking for recruits?
That never happened - never.
Governments and private hunter organizations were now requesting elite S-Class and SS-Class hunters to work with Kanagawa.
Something felt off.
"Why now?"
Kaede leaned back, staring at the screen, a slow unease creeping over him.
Something big was coming.