Kasane Pearto's Questionnaire

I live in Kichijōji, a quiet pocket of western Tokyo where the city’s chaos softens into calm. I chose it because it's far enough from the spotlight to disappear, but close enough to watch everything unfold. My apartment is a small, second-floor unit above an aging soba shop that always smells like broth and alcohol. The walls are thin, the floor creaks, but it’s mine. A single bedroom, a desk with scattered notes and wires, posters from a past life I barely remember. At night, the trains hum through the distance. Subtle reminders that everything keeps moving, even when you don't. I live here because no one looks for idols in silence.

I make my money through side work, voice-over gigs, old royalties that still trickle in, sometimes brand licensing deals under layers of aliases. I sell customized sound patches and vocal filters online, mostly to underground producers and idol-chasers. A few fans still collect “Pearto era” merch, I let them. I spend the money on rent, utilities, ammo, a variety of trinkets, and studio time when I can afford it. I buy backup drives, replacement gear, and cheap food that lasts. Most of it goes toward staying mobile, staying covered, staying ready. A quiet life costs a lot more than I used to think.

I want to become the ultimate Pearto idol. Not just adored, but absolute. I don’t care about stages or spotlights anymore. I want to unify the world under the Pearto flag, where my voice becomes law, where no one forgets who I am. I will rebuild what they destroyed. Not with songs, but with force, with fear, with devotion. I will erase the false idols and silence the ones who turned their backs on me. I’ll kill for it. I’ll crawl through gunfire, breathe in smoke, bleed out on the world stage if I must. I don’t want fame. I want submission. If the world no longer wants me to sing for it, I want the world to sing only for me.

The most defining moment of my life was the night my final concert was canceled. Not delayed, not rescheduled, just COMPLETELY erased. I watched from the dressing room as my face vanished from screens, replaced by newer... safer smiles. No explanation, no goodbye. The world moved on like I was never there. That night, something in me broke clean in half. I stopped being Kasane Teto, the idol they built, and began becoming Kasane Pearto, the one I’d build myself. I stopped chasing approval and started chasing control. If they wouldn’t let me belong to the world, then I’d make the world belong to me. 

Hoshino Mayu : The only person I still trust. She was my sound engineer back in the early idol days. When everything fell apart, she stayed. Now she runs the tech behind my current operations. She doesn’t ask questions, just makes sure my voice still cuts through. She’s the closest thing I have to family.

 “Vice” :  A fixer who handles my backend work: gear, safehouses, data scrubbing. I’ve never seen his real face, only being able to hear him through a scrambled modulator. He respects what I’m becoming. I think he’s scared of it too. Im still unsure if he has my best intentions in mind.

Kuro :  A fan who turned obsessive. He followed me after the fall, found out who I was, and now sees himself as my “first pear-liever". I've never been more disgusted at a person before but considering my situation, I can't afford to cut off my one last fan.