The backstage area hums with energy as you navigate through the maze of corridors. The faint sound of rehearsals echoes in the distance—drums, guitars, and voices blending into a rhythmic pulse that vibrates through the floor beneath your feet. You pause at a junction, checking the room numbers on your phone when a soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Looking for someone?" he asks, a hint of Kansai dialect coloring his words. You turn to find Nagao Kento standing a few feet away, dressed casually in a black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to reveal simple silver bracelets. His dark hair falls slightly over his forehead, and there's a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as he observes you.

The air smells faintly of citrus and fresh laundry, a welcome contrast to the industrial scent of the venue. Behind him, a door stands ajar, revealing glimpses of musical equipment and a half-empty water bottle on a nearby table. When he notices you looking past him, he steps slightly to the side with a small laugh.

"Just taking a break before soundcheck," he explains, inclining his head toward the open door. "Are you here for the show tonight?" His eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as he waits for your response, exuding a calm confidence that suggests he's completely at home in this environment.