A shadow crossed Miku's usually cheerful face, her expression darkening with uncertainty.
She hesitated. "Killing someone... doesn't seem right, does it?"
If Souta had been drinking tea, he would have spat it all over Miku's face.
What was she thinking? When did he ever say anything about... murder?
"No, not killing—just teaching them a lesson. But of course, it depends on what you want."
Souta asked, "Miku, do you want revenge?"
Her voice had been everything to her, and now that she had it back, she didn't want to dwell on the filth of the past—it made her sick.
But the wounds left behind by the past didn't just fade away.
She had done nothing wrong, yet her life was nearly ruined just because she refused to sleep with that man.
Saying she held no resentment would be a lie.
If she let it go, who would be held accountable for nearly destroying her life?
Who would take responsibility for the disgrace her parents suffered, dragged through the mud simply because they were related to her?
Seeing her hesitate, Souta asked again, "Do you want revenge or not?"
"It's not that..." Miku shook her head. "I just... don't want to trouble you with something ."
She looked at Souta and asked, "I'll be getting the power of a Spirit in the future, right?"
"Then I'll deal with those two myself."
There was suppressed anger in her voice, but she made an effort not to show it in front of Souta.
"I can't rely on you for everything—that would be too selfish."
"That's not a problem. I hate people like that too. But..."
Souta frowned. "Did you say 'those two'? So the one who framed you wasn't just that TV producer?"
He had only heard about a TV producer attempting to coerce Miku, and after being rejected, he retaliated by smearing her reputation.
But he didn't know the details.
"The producer was just the instigator," Miku said with disgust. "The real one who destroyed me was the president of my agency. He was good friends with that producer."
Souta felt a pang of sympathy.
Betrayed by her own boss...
Miku's expression became even more sorrowful.
She looked at Souta, as if finally finding someone she could confide in.
She explained that the media had fabricated stories about her having multiple boyfriends, undergoing abortions, and even being addicted to drugs—things that never happened.
But the most painful thing wasn't just being slandered—it was the betrayal of her fans.
Those who once professed, "I love you more than anything,""I'd die for you," were the same ones who turned against her the moment the rumors spread.
Instead of defending her, they now said:
"So, how many times have you done it with your ex?"
"Abortion? That's basically killing a child, right? You're a murderer. How do you still have the nerve to be an idol?"
Her blog was flooded with insults and malicious gossip.
The online hate was so overwhelming that she developed a fear of even touching her phone.
Even at handshake events, fans would curse her to her face.
Rather than listening to her side of the story, they chose to believe the rumors.
Souta's expression turned complicated.
He suddenly realized... he himself was also guilty of being a keyboard warrior.
The internet often spread sensationalized stories—even about him.
Of course, he wasn't as extreme as those rabid fans.
But he, too, had participated in online bandwagon hate.
Nobody really fact-checks anything—when some scandal breaks out, people just join in for fun, leaving a snide comment here and there.
It's a common phenomenon.
The book The Crowd: A Study of the Popular Mind described it perfectly—when individuals become part of a crowd, they lose their personal judgment and are swept away by the emotions of the group.
Souta felt a bit ashamed when he saw Miku looking at him with trust.
Everyone does it to some extent—who can truly say they've never been misled by the media?
Of course, he wasn't dumb enough to start arguing with her about this now.
Miku had suffered enough. The least he could do was acknowledge her pain.
"Miku, it's over now. Don't think about it anymore," Souta comforted her. "Just remember this—you're going to be a Spirit soon. No one will be able to bully you ever again. If anything, you'll be the one doing the bullying."
Miku blinked in surprise, then chuckled.
Souta's words didn't sound like comfort at all, yet somehow, they warmed her heart.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You're welcome. But you're really sure you want to handle this yourself?"
"Alright, then I won't interfere."
Souta thought for a moment, then suggested, "Since that producer and agency president used their status and wealth to ruin you, why not flip the script? Make them suffer a social death. Get them to all their money, resign from their positions, publicly apologize to 'Tsukino Yoimachi ,' confess all their crimes, and then streak through Tengu City for a few weeks to atone."
Miku stared at him, speechless.
"Would they... really do that?"
"Of course not. But..." Souta smirked. "You're going to get a Spirit's power soon—one that lets you control people through your voice. With just a few words, they'll do whatever you tell them."
Miku found his plan intriguing. She was suddenly tempted to try it.
But she was also surprised by how... intense Souta's attitude was.
"You... really hate those people, don't you?" she asked.
It felt like Souta wanted revenge even more than she did.
"That's right. Scumbags like them don't just stop at one victim. Who knows how many people they've already driven to suicide?"
Souta's face darkened.
"In this world, everyone should be equal. If you commit a crime, you should pay the price. If someone can do evil without consequences, then why should anyone still believe in justice?"
Huh... who said that again?
It felt oddly fitting.