Exploring the Journey of timelesz in REAL: A Netflix Series

One year after the timelesz project -AUDITION- (タイプロ) came to an end, timelesz returns—not with answers, but with something far more honest.

Now streaming globally on Netflix, 『timelesz project -REAL-』 captures the 365 days that followed the audition that reshaped the group. If timelesz project -AUDITION- was about being chosen, REAL is about what comes after the choice is made. It documents the stretch of time where expectations pile up faster than confidence, and where success no longer feels like a finish line, but a pressure point.

From the very first episode, the series makes one thing clear: the audition never truly ended. In Episode 01, Fuma Kikuchi speaks with striking clarity about the future waiting for them—about how the excitement will fade, how the “bubble” will burst, and how the real evaluation has only just begun. Coming from someone with over a decade in the industry, the words carry weight. This isn’t pessimism; it’s experience.

Since the conclusion of project, timelesz has moved at breathtaking speed. Commercials, magazine covers, chart records, new television programs—on paper, everything points upward. But REAL deliberately looks past those headlines. Instead, it focuses on the quieter question beneath them all: how do eight individuals become one group, without losing themselves or each other along the way?

VOL.1 follows the group as they prepare for their first arena tour as an eight-member unit, and what unfolds is less a celebratory debut than a process of reconstruction. The five new members—Takuto Teranishi, Yoshitaka Hara, Masaki Hashimoto, Shuto Inomata, and Taiki Shinozuka—arrive with vastly different levels of experience. Some are juggling long-established individual work with suddenly intensified group responsibilities. Others are confronting the sheer difficulty of sustaining the hunger and tension that once came naturally during the audition phase.

At the same time, original members Fuma, Shori Sato, and So Matsushima are forced to relearn what they thought they already knew. Familiar songs must be restructured, choreography rebuilt, and internal balance renegotiated—all while carrying the unspoken obligation to satisfy longtime fans and newcomers alike. The arena tour becomes more than a performance; it becomes the first true test of whether timelesz can function as a collective, rather than a concept.

Some of the most memorable scenes step away from the stage entirely. Episodes 03 and 04 follow So, Shuto, and Masaki to Los Angeles for dance training, and it is here that REAL sheds any remaining sense of hierarchy. Labels like “original” and “new” quietly dissolve, replaced by something simpler: peers learning, failing, supporting, and improving together. There is no dramatization of growth—just the steady accumulation of effort.

What REAL ultimately captures is not spectacle, but adjustment. It shows what happens when momentum collides with reality, and when a group must decide—day after day—how seriously they are willing to take the responsibility placed on them.

VOL.2, scheduled for release later, will extend this journey through dance training in Korea, music production challenges, and the road toward timelesz’s first Tokyo Dome performance. Along the way, mentors and collaborators appear not as grand cameos, but as quiet reminders that idol careers are never built alone.

In that sense, timelesz project -REAL- is less a sequel than a continuation of life itself. It doesn’t ask viewers to celebrate success; it asks them to witness endurance. For fans who followed the project, it offers context and grounding. For those discovering timelesz for the first time, it offers sincerity—unpolished, sometimes uncomfortable, and deeply human.

This is not the story of becoming idols.

It is the story of learning how to keep going as one.