The broadcast studio was unlike anything Ava had ever experienced.
Bright spotlights bathed the stage in a golden glow, casting long beams through a haze of meticulously choreographed fog. Every corner gleamed—walls of LED panels shimmered with soft pink hues, floor lights embedded beneath polished tiles blinked in gentle rhythm, and overhead, cranes moved with fluid grace as cameras whirred on silent tracks.
Ava stood just behind the curtain, her heels clicking softly against the lacquered floor as she peered toward the stage. The curved rows of seating in front of her were filling fast. Studio staff guided Tokyo's glittering elite to their places—celebrities, influencers, tech moguls, even politicians. The buzz of anticipation was tangible, vibrating under her skin like static.
Japanese and English voices mingled in a whirlwind of murmurs, laughter, and digital chatter. A massive screen hovered above the stage displaying the show's logo in gold calligraphy: LOVE LIVE: TOKYO.
