Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I want to make music. I want to perform. I want to be on stage, singing my heart out to an energized audience with electricity shooting through every crevice of the livehouse. I’ve known this since I was little, when I saw my dad, at that show…

I have to live up to his name. I have to go beyond. I want to go beyond. When I left the venue that night, I looked up at the sky. I saw so, so many stars. All of them gleamed so brightly in the black sky. I could only think that they must’ve looked like the audience at that fateful show. So, so bright.  

“Sounding great as always, Shiraishi!”

The black-haired girl whipped her head around to greet the voice praising her– a regular at her dad’s cafe. In the back of her vision, the crowd that once circled around her begins to disperse. “Oh!” She pauses to take a gulp of air, breathless from her performance. “Thanks! I can always be better, though!” She exclaims. 

“God, An, if you get any better, you’re gonna surpass RAD WEEKEND in no time,” the familiar man says with a tinge of exasperation. “Hey, do you need help with that?” He gestures down to the tangled mess of wires stringed around her amp. 

“Oh, ah… no, I got it!” An squats down to sort through her supplies, ignoring the pulsing shock that ran through her body at such high praise. “Er, crap,” she hisses, holding up a black cord. Shiny copper sticks out in every direction from a frayed cut, gushing forwards even as An presses down on it in a futile attempt to fix the broken wire. The cafe regular fails to suppress a small laugh, shaking his head at the girl. 

“What the hell did you do to that poor wire? Let me see that.”

“I probably got into the song and pulled on it too hard…” Dejection laces her words and she hands the wire over. He rolls it around in his hands, mulling over the broken equipment. 

“Yeah, this thing’s done. You got a spare or something?” He hands the wire back.

“Ugh, no,” she groans, “that was for my mic…” A frown creeps on An’s face. 

“Ah- well! I think there’s some type of holiday sale at that music store in the mall going on right now!” The man spits out in a panic, not wanting to upset the girl he’s known since she was little. Her face crinkles up in response.

“What holiday is it?”

“I don’t know! You know how retailers are, be grateful they’re doing it when you so carelessly broke your equipment!” He lightheartedly scolds her. She sticks her tongue out at him and leans down to grab the rest of her belongings. 

“Fine, I’ll be sure to personally thank the owner myself!” She turns on her heel, swaying as the weight of her equipment throws off her balance. “I’m off!”

“See you later! Tell your dad I said ‘Hi’!” He shouts at the ever-determined girl. 

“Did you want to try that out?”

Honami squeaks involuntarily as she turns to meet the music shop worker that snuck up behind her. “Oh- oh no! I was just looking! I wouldn’t.. ah..”

The worker smiles politely and waves his hands at her. “It’s okay! I was just making sure. Is there anything I can help you with?” The girl’s face flushes red, nearly matching the ribbon of her school uniform. 

“No, ah, thank you!” She curtly bows and shuffles away, hoping she didn’t come across as too rude. It was probably for the best that she stopped staring at the drumkit anyway, since it would just bring back more bittersweet memories. Staring at the floor as she skitters away, she shakes her head as if to clear her head of the past. Ever since that confrontation in the hallway–

“Oh my– I’m so sorry!” Honami squeals as she jumps back from the person she’s just walked straight into. She quickly hops back, resembling a frightened kitten as she hugs her hands to her heart. 

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” the other girl assures her, although the expression on her face is as awkward as Honami feels. The heat rises back to her face when she realizes she saw the same stranger earlier, performing on the street. Of course she would embarrass herself in front of someone that she thought was cool. Of course. Her eyes widen as the blue-haired girl leans down and picks up a black, coiled wire.

“Oh no, did I make you drop that? I’m so sorry!” She bows her head, growing more embarrassed by the second. Seeing such a sad sight, the other girl panics and throws her hands onto the taller girl’s shoulders.

“No!! Don’t apologize! I was standing in the way, anyway, I was looking at these cords instead of paying attention to my surroundings!” She reassures in a loud tone, making Honami cringe inwardly. 

Then, without thinking, she mumbles, “Oh, so you did snap it…”

“Huh?” The pressure on Honami’s shoulders lessens. The girl’s hands hover aimlessly in place, still. 

Shoot.

Words start falling out of her mouth without any thought. “Oh, I mean– I saw you performing earlier, and I thought I saw a cord snap, but I couldn’t tell so I didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to interrupt your set anyway, so–”

“Wait, you saw it?!” The girl interrupts her rambling. 

Honami’s hands draw closer to her chest. “Y- yes, I–”

“When was it?! I didn’t even notice because I was so focused on singing, now I’m curious!” 

Honami blinks back in shock. That was her only concern, after everything? “It was during that song that was like,” she clears her throat to start humming the tune, “~♪” The ever-surprising girl stares back with her mouth agape and wide eyes. Honami’s blood runs cold, thoughts starting to sort through every possible thing she’s done to offend the stranger across from her. 

“Wait, do that again.”

“Sorry?”

“Hum that again!”

Honami gulps, physically swallowing her pride. Ever the people pleaser, she obliges.

“Can you sing?!” The girl’s eyes seem to glimmer with intrigue.

“Sing? I’m not really sure, Ichi was always our–” she stops herself, realizing the slip-up. It was stupid of her to mention that old dream. 

“ Ichi? Was that your singing partner?” Her voice carries an air of genuine interest. 

“N-no. I was in a band, long ago. I sh-”

Honami is cut off when her hands are suddenly seized and pulled away from the safe spot near her heart. “A band?! That’s so cool! What did you play?”

“...The drums,” her reply borders on a whisper.

“No way! I never would’ve guessed, all the drummers I know are so– y’know –” Honami does not know, “and you’re so cute and polite! Like, like a little gerbil or something!”

“G- gerbil?” She doesn’t know whether to take offense to such a comment or not.

“Say, do you wanna learn how to sing?” The girl’s grip on Honami’s hands tightens ever-so-slightly. Her hands are surprisingly cold, or maybe Honami’s are just warm from embarrassment. 

“S- sing?”

“Wanna be my partner?”

Honami blinks back. She can’t remember the last time she told someone, “no”. 

The girl, An , as Honami now knows her name, also knows a lot more about her life. Her dad owns a cafe on Vivid Street, she’s a first year at Kamiyama High, she’s totally not afraid of ghosts, she comes to this park to practice often, she’s been looking for singing partner for quite some time now, she really likes street music, and most importantly: she intends to surpass the legendary RAD WEEKEND event one day. Honami knew by the way her eyes lit up and her tone intensified after she cluelessly asked what RAD WEEKEND was, that goal was incredibly dear to her. 

Even though An has been happily offering up any information Honami inquires about, she can’t find the courage in herself to return the favor. Realistically, she knows that An has never heard her name before. She would’ve mentioned it when Honami told her it, most likely. There’s a near-zero chance the rumors about her have traveled all the way from Miyamasuzaka to Kamiyama. Yet, she can’t escape the anxiety drilling a pit into her stomach. If she lets An get too close, she’ll start to think she’s a two-faced fake like everyone else. One side of her wants to be as open and honest as An, but the other is afraid that such honesty will become a weapon to others. 

So, she only returns An’s stories with simple facts. Plain ones that are easy to digest, like a fresh apple pie that crumbles in your mouth. 

“I’m a first year at Miyamasuzaka Girls’ Academy.”

“I work as a housekeeper.”

“I’ve been playing the drums since I was younger.”

“...Sorry, I don’t really want to talk about my old band…”

She looks up at the sky. The sun is setting, so the stars have begun to glow faintly among the fading colors. Sitting on the park’s swings so late in the day has made her feel nostalgic. She’ll tell herself it’s a strange feeling, and suppress the thought that she knows exactly why such a feeling has bubbled up. Silently, she wonders if this proves that she really is as fake as her classmates say. 

“Do you stargaze often?” An’s voice clears her spiraling thoughts. She turns and wordlessly meets her gaze. Her eyes are soft, and Honami could swear there was a small spark of concern lurking somewhere in them. “You’ve been looking at the sky ever since the stars came out,” she supplies, answering Honami’s unspoken question. 

She curtly nods back. “Yeah, I really like astronomy,” she smiles in an attempt to extinguish the flickering worry on An’s face, “I don’t want to talk your ears off about it, though.”

“Go ahead! I’ve talked enough today, anyway. I know nothing about this stuff,” she suddenly gasps, jumping to her feet in excitement, “You can teach me about the stars and I’ll teach you about singing! It’ll be like, equivalent exchange, or whatever!” She clasps her hands together, a wide grin painting her face. 

Honami straightens her posture, gripping the swing’s chains with a great force born from her newfound determination. A mirroring grin starts to form. “Well then, let’s begin with our first lesson!”

“Y’know, I bet your previous experience in a band is helping you pick this stuff up way easier,” An says with her back turned to her partner, pouring two cups of coffee, “I could tell by the way you hummed that you were a natural! That’s why I asked you to be my partner~” An whips around to throw Honami a playful wink. She giggles back, hiding her blush behind her sweater-covered hands. 

“You’re being too nice! Maybe if I started quizzing you on my astronomy lectures, you wouldn’t tease me like this so lightly…” Honami jokes back, tapping a finger against her chin in faux contemplation. 

“H- hey! I told you I’m bad at studying!” An sputters out, nearly dropping the coffee cups from her grasp, “Don’t even joke about that!” Honami just smiles and takes a cup from An’s hands from over the counter. 

It’s been over a week since their encounter in the music shop, and the two girls have grown surprisingly close in such a short time, even despite their different lifestyles. They’ve fallen into a routine of meeting each other at the park after their schools let out, practicing songs until sunset, then settling down on the playground with some snacks while Honami picks out different parts of the night sky to dissect. They’ve grown into a comfortable dynamic, the bold and the mellow balancing each other out. Honami’s grown a bit more honest with An, indulging her with her drumming knowledge and history. Although, she’s still not brave enough to talk earnestly about her old band. It’s still too sore of a subject for her sensitive heart. 

 Today, however, they’ve broken routine for the first time. Upon arriving at the park, An whisked Honami away to WEEKEND GARAGE, her dad’s cafe. She kept shouting something about “taking a well-deserved break” while Honami’s flustered mind could only produce shrieking sounds as the shorter girl tugged on her sleeves. Onlooking bystanders may have thought they were witnessing a kidnapping if An hadn’t looked so pathetic in her attempts to usher her friend along. 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” An pauses to sip from her own cup, “I think we’re ready for a live show.”

“Eh?!” Honami nearly does a spit take, some coffee dribbling from her mouth.

“I think we’re ready! I know it might feel like a short time, but we’ve both really improved and grown closer! We can’t keep getting better if we don’t start making big moves, right?” An’s eyes glow with anticipation. Her cup clinks against the counter surface as she places it down, awaiting Honami’s response.

Honami’s response– well, there is none. If she refuses, then her new friend might think she’s selfish, that she’s just been using her. However, if she accepts, she’ll embarrass the both of them with her inexperience. Her hands grow clammy as her grip tightens around her own drink. The cocoa-tinged air seems to grow cold and get stuck in her throat. 

“So?” An’s prodding voice rings through her ears.

Deep breath. 

“Sure!”

Exhale– Did she just say something?

“Ah, yay!!” An shouts, nearly tipping her drink over as she reaches to hug her partner from behind the counter. “I got this flyer for an event this weekend–”

Oh, she did. She agreed. Like always.

Friday night. Honami was so exhausted, after sleeping poorly from the stress of the upcoming show, then slogging through classes, then staying at school late to help organize materials for the Home Ec Club, then rushing halfway across town to WEEKEND GARAGE where An insisted they practiced before the show, then helping An carry their personal equipment over to the venue… Yeah, she wasn’t exactly “running on all thrusters”, so to speak. Of course, this was only causing her more stress, which was then further exhausting her…

“Hey, Hona, you okay?”

Honami whips around to face the voice, having been distracted by the flashing lights of the current performers. “H- Hona?”

“Oh, are you not comfortable with nicknames yet? S-”

Honami immediately cuts her off, “No! No, that’s fine! It’s cute actually, I just wasn’t expecting it,” she cuts off her own rambling as well, “I’m just a bit tired and nervous, is all.”

“Aw, Hona! Don’t be nervous!” She reaches out to pinch her cheeks. “We’ve practiced so much, we’re gonna do great! Hey, maybe this is the night we surpass RAD WEEKEND, even!” An giggles to herself, knowing that Honami wouldn’t quite understand the full joke. 

“Yeah, in your dreams, maybe,” a familiar, deep voice rings out from behind An. She turns around to face the boy, placing a hand on her hip and a smirk wiping the sincere smile off her face.

“Please, you know I was joking. These events are supposed to be fun, liven up a little,” she scoffs as she begins to turn back around.

“See, this is why everyone thinks you’re only here because you’re Ken’s daughter. This is important to the rest of us, hell, it’s people’s livelihood , and you’re here to have some fun? How embarrassing.” He punctuates the rant with an eye roll. 

An practically snaps back to her former position, resembling a feral animal ready to attack at any wrong move. “Seriously!? You’re just trying to make me look bad! You know I care about this just as much as everyone else! I can take this seriously while still enjoying it!” Her voice cracks, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. Hoping to conceal them, she takes a shaky step backwards into darker lighting. The boy just eyes her, a judgmental yet disinterested expression painting his face. 

“Then prove it on the stage,” he huffs out before making his leave. The confrontation leaves An dizzy with frustration, patting down some of the wetness in her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. Behind her, Honami stands frozen in shock. Quite frankly, she was too tired to comprehend what had even happened. Disgust lines her features, her thoughts racing at the sight of someone being so unapologetically rude. Does he just not care what others think about him?

An breaks out of her stupor before Honami does. “I’m… sorry you had to see that,” she sighs and shakes her head, looking down, “I really do care about this, I swear…” she trails off. Having never seen her look so meek and defeated, Honami’s supportive instincts kick in. She surges forward to grab An’s hands, which have been balled into fists, and brings them together to clasp her own hands around them. 

“Everything that guy said reflected more poorly on himself than on you!” She exclaims, earnesty seeping through every word. “Don’t worry about it, I’m supposed to be the stressed one of our duo!” An lets out a soft laugh, breaking free from Honami’s grasp. Glad that she was able to diffuse the situation, Honami beams at the sight. 

“You’re right, you’re like a little stress ball… or, those are to help relieve stress, aren’t they?” An taps a finger to her chin. “Well, you are cute and squishy like one… so I’ll just make you my little stress ball!” Soft warmth pricks Honami’s cheek as her finger surges forth to poke her. She giggles, cusping her cheek as if she could hold the warm sensation there forever if she never let go. 

“We should get ready, we’re up soon,” An softly reminds her, pointing to their microphones resting on top of a storage box. 

“Right!” She nods, relinquishing her hand from its guard duty. After all, such a small feeling feels pathetic in comparison to the warm glow in her chest born from helping An.

Stepping out from backstage, both girls are immediately blinded by the bright neon lights. Heart pumping in overtime, Honami can’t even make out the MC announcing their act. Her knees shake, not used to standing on stage. To her right, however, An stands proud and confident, her microphone relaxed in her slack grip while her free hand waves out to the crowd. A cheesy grin paints her face as her eyes glitter with the colors of the changing lights. Suddenly, Honami’s struck by the idea that she might be bringing her partner down, only proving that rude boy right and ruining An’s reputation. As soon as the thought forms, she shakes her head as if she could shake it out of her brain entirely. 

I won’t let that happen to her. Not after everything she’s done for me. Loosening her grip on her own microphone, she leans back and smiles out into the sea of people. It’s an awkward, toothy one, but a smile nonetheless. Even if she’s used to hiding behind a drum set, she’ll learn how to stand with confidence on stage. If not for her, then for An. 

The music kicks in, and she only startles a little. Progress is progress, at the least.

The chip bag crinkles as An digs her hand into its depths, exhaling a dejected sigh when she comes up empty.  “Man, we went through that fast . Should we go get another one from the vending machine?” 

Honami’s eyes snap from the starry night sky back to An. “No, it’s fine…”

The other girl’s eyes light up as she discards the plastic bag into her backpack. “Oh, is it time for another astronomy lesson? Should I get my notebook out, professor?” She teases, wiggling her eyebrows with a sly smirk. 

“No, it’s not that,” Honami’s eyes lock with An’s, “we should talk about the show.” An almost startled expression flashes across An’s face, before being quickly replaced by one of pride. 

“Right, the show! It went so well, don’t you think?” Their swings rattle as she lightly punches her shoulder.

Honami nods. “I do think it was good for our level of experience, but…” Her gaze finds its way back to the stars. For a moment, she thinks she sees a comet, but quickly realizes it’s just an airplane. 

“...But?”

“I don’t think I can ever get comfortable with that .”

“Huh? With what?” An leans forward, concern washing away the joy on her face. Immediately, Honami regrets starting the conversation. 

“Ah- no, forget it. I just need more practice,” she mutters softly. Finding no comfort in An nor the stars, she down at the woodchips littering the park’s ground. 

“Hey, no!” An leans down to find Honami’s gaze, but stops when she nearly falls off the swing. “We can’t perform well if you’re uncomfortable! Be honest with me, this is important for both of us. We can’t improve and grow as partners if we’re not being one-hundred percent open with each other. Kay?” This sentiment gets Honami to look back up, resounding in her head. The small smile lazily placed on An’s lips only proves her honesty. 

She momentarily stills to collect her thoughts, then continues, “Just… standing up there. I’m so used to being behind my drums when on stage, it just feels like I’m exposed. Weird, right?” She fidgets with the scrunchie holding her ponytail in place.

“Not weird, that makes total sense,” An reassures her partner, “I probably should’ve thought about that before, honestly,” before Honami can ask why, she continues, “Drummers are usually in the back of the stage, yeah? Being forced to front and center like that must’ve been tough… I’m sorry for making you do that before you were ready. Really.”

“Huh? N- no! You didn’t make me do anything, I swear! I would’ve told you if–”

“Gonna stop you right there. Hona, I said we need to be honest with each other, so I’m not gonna be a hypocrite and dance around this. I don’t think you would’ve told me if you weren’t ready– because you didn’t. I can tell you’re trying to be polite around me, but as my partner, I want you to be you . We’re not gonna get anywhere if you keep up this… this customer service personality.”

“‘ Customer service ’?” Honami’s face flushes, eyes growing wide at the accusation. It’s not entirely inaccurate, but betrays the truth behind her actions. Her heartbeat accelerates at the realization that she’s losing her newest friend just like she lost all her old ones. “I just want to be nice! I’m not trying to be disloyal or fake or whatever, why does everyone keep saying that!?” Tears well up as she grows increasingly distressed by the unfolding tragedy. 

An gasps, realizing the oncoming panic radiating off of her partner. She practically flies off her swing, grasping the stressed girl by the shoulders. “Hona, I didn’t mean that to be a bad thing! You’re really nice, and that’s okay. I just don’t want you to sacrifice your own wants and wellbeing to please me, or anyone else!” Seeing the girl beginning to calm down, she keeps going, “There’s being nice, and there’s letting people walk over you. Don’t leave yourself behind, don’t follow everything I ask of you. This is a partnership, not a leadership, after all.”

“Partnership…” Honami repeats in a whisper, letting the kind words flow through her body. The comfort they bring outshines any sensation her prior people-pleasing had brought, enveloping her in a warm hug. With a newfound resolve, she nods and hums out an agreement. “I felt uncomfortable tonight. I tried to hide it, but I still felt it.” When she looks up at her partner, the apprehension shining in her eyes melts away at her smile.

“So, let’s tackle that,” she hums as she shoves her hands in her jacket pockets, rocking back and forth on her heels. “What if you played the drums for us? You can still sing, but also show your talent in that and be more comfortable.”

The realization at how simple a solution this situation called for nearly makes Honami faceplant into the ground. Yet, she immediately finds another concern. “I would prefer that, but wouldn’t it be a little awkward with that dynamic? Like, I’m in the back drumming and you’re jumping around on stage… maybe I’m overthinking this,” she sighs. 

“No, that’s valid, Hmm…” Her foot taps out a familiar rhythm as she delves deeper into thought. “I suppose I could pick up an instrument, but I don’t know how long that’ll take to get good at… Ah! Or, we form a band!”

“A band?” 

“A band! You’re our drummer, I’m the vocalist, let’s scout out some others! RAD WEEKEND didn’t have a live band, maybe that’ll help me– us, overcome it one day!” 

As Honami’s about to voice her agreement, a bright white glow flashes out from An’s bag. “Oh, did your phone’s flashlight turn on?”

“Huh? Did it?” She reaches down to fish the aforementioned phone out from its cloth prison. Once she takes it out, the bright white seems to grow. “What the– it’s so bright!”

“Turn it off!” Honami shrieks as she shields her eyes.

“I- I can’t! Huh…?”

Seeing the glow dissipate from the borders of her vision, Honami removes her hands from her eyes. However, the familiar park has completely left her sights. As she looks around to regain her bearings, she realizes she’s no longer sat on a swing, but rather at a desk.

“Wh- what?!” She shouts, jumping up and scrambling backwards. “An?!”

“Hona, what just happened…” An questions in a near-whisper, staring at her with wide eyes. 

“Why would I know, it’s your phone!” She shouts, clearly panicked by the supernatural occurrence. 

“D- do you think it was a ghost?” An squeaks out pathetically.

“How would a ghost do this?!”

“I don’t know, ghosts aren’t real!”

“You’re the one that brought it up!”

“Shut up!”

“Fufu, you two are so noisy…” A high-pitched, somewhat robotic voice calls out from behind both girls. They swing around in unison to greet the person at the classroom door. Short in stature, teal pigtails with matching eyes–

“Hatsune Miku?!” Both girls shout out, jaws dropping. 

“Oh, so you know me already. Well, welcome to your SEKAI!” Miku extends her arms out as if to present them with their new gift. 

“SEKAI? Sorry, Hatsune Miku? Were those chips laced?” An shakes her in disbelief. 

“How would they be laced? It wasn’t opened before we bought it,” Honami points out, trying to regain her level head. 

“Stop making sense, we’re in my phone talking to the ghost of Hatsune Miku right now!” An whines.

“Well, I’m not a ghost, so you don’t have to be so scared, An. Anyway, your SEKAI! A magical little place born from your feelings. The others and I are here to be a little helping hand, in a way,” Miku explains matter-of-factly, leaning against the doorframe as if this was a completely normal and sane conversation to be having.

“Wait, I’m not afraid of ghosts!” 

“All of that, and that’s your biggest concern?” Honami would have laughed if she wasn’t so concerned about their current situation. 

“I don’t want any misconceptions about me going around!” An argues back, fully earnest in her worries. 

“Going around where ? Miku just told us that we’re in a world made from our feelings .”

“Stop arguing, you two. Didn’t you just have a nice little chat about partnership and forming a band?” Miku scolds them, but her smirking dejects any seriousness behind it. 

“Y- you know even that ?” An mumbles under her breath, “Scary…”

Miku shrugs. “I was eavesdropping from your bag, fufu.” The girls glance at each other with wide, questioning eyes. Sensing their apprehension, Miku gives them an out, “Well, I just brought you here for an introduction to your SEKAI. You can come back and leave at any time, just press pause or play on that ‘Untitled’ song on your phones.” She crosses her arms, watching their expressions morph with the new information. Ignoring her watchful gaze, An immediately digs her phone out of her jacket pocket. Sure enough, a new song named Untitled is in her music library. 

“So, If I press this, we’ll go back to the park?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yep! If you don’t believe me, you can give it a try,” Miku responds. An turns back to Honami, who nods as if to say, “ Let’s go. ” 

“Alright… see ya, Miku…” An says awkwardly before pressing down on the pause button. Her vision immediately clouds over with the same bright white light as before. Faintly, she thinks she hears a robotic “ Come back soon, fufu! ” reverb through the air. 

A moment later, her vision returns. Blinking away the spots wiggling in her sight, she pats the ground– woodchips.
“What… just happened?” Honami’s meek voice squeaks out. When An looks up, she’s gripping the swing’s chains with a great enough force to turn her knuckles white. 

“We… met Hatsune Miku. In our feelings world,” An recounts, “Huh. Okay.” She blinks, not registering when Honami moves to grab her own phone.

“I should go, it’s late and I have work tomorrow,” she stands up and grabs her bag, “I’ll see you later,” she says softly, still shaken. 

“Yeah, I’ll start looking into potential bandmates,” An responds in an equally soft tone, not matching her former excitement. Honami quietly leaves, but An stays on the park ground. When she looks up at the night sky, she thinks she sees an airplane overhead. However, when she squints, she realizes it’s actually a comet soaring past the stars.

“Ms. Yoisaki, are you there? I’m so sorry I’m late, I slept through my alarm, then stopped to get an apple pie as an apology gift,” Honami explains in a loud voice that doesn’t quite reach the level of a shout. She carefully places her bag of pies on the kitchen table and slinks over to the coat rack to hang her cardigan up. As she does, the creak of a door resounds through the house. Footsteps start and grow louder, so she moves back to the table to take out a pie and begin cutting it. 

“I didn’t even notice you were late,” a hushed, tired voice soon pipes up. “Thank you, though.” 

When Honami turns to look at her client, she has to stop herself from scolding her and pulling her back into her bedroom to take a long nap. Her long, white hair is clearly unbrushed, and dark circles sink into her eye sockets. Instead, she offers, “Would you like to sit and have a slice while I go clean your room?”

The white-haired girl hums in agreement, her eyes staying closed for a little too long when she blinks. She staggers over and takes a seat at the wooden table. “Did you already cut it? Thanks,” she mumbles and lazily discards a slice of piece onto a plate that was already at the table when Honami walked in. 

Unable to help herself, Honami chimes in, “You should try to get some sleep once I leave, okay?”

The girl nods back. “I will, I just got so absorbed in my work that I hadn’t realized the time…” Distantly, Honami recognizes that could be why she didn’t notice her tardiness. 

“Try to take care of yourself, alright? I’ll be quick, so enjoy the pie!” Honami squeezes her shoulder as an act of assurance and trots off to begin her housekeeping. Entering the bedroom, she’s immediately hit by the familiar smell of cup noodles. She giggles to herself, shaking her head. Never change, Ms. Yoisaki, never change. The first thing that catches her attention is the mess of papers and notes scattered across and around the girl’s desk. She has an impressive computer setup, or, at least that’s what Honami thinks, never being that interested in technology and electronics. Still, she writes everything down by hand. Honami can appreciate a commitment to traditional technique, but is nearly thrown into cardiac arrest seeing the sheer amount of pure mess that girl has created in such a short time since her last visit. Maybe I should leave her with an organizational system? But, I’m not sure she would even use it… 

Peering over the papers, she realizes that it’s all sheet music, with the occasional scraps mentioning notes for later improvement on some of the scores. Honami knew that she played the keyboard, but hadn’t realized she also composed her own music. Tucking away a mental note to ask about it later, she moved to start organizing the messily strung about papers. In an attempt to keep a level of professionalism, she tries not to read too much of the girl’s work, but couldn’t help but catch some of her words. Reminders to add an extra beat loop, critiques over the vocal key, options of different drum patterns for the same track… It’s a little overwhelming for Honami, who is mostly unfamiliar with composition, especially to this degree. 

“Sorry that I left such a mess…”

Honami shrieks as she drops the sheet in her hand, jumping back and slamming into the edge of the desk. The electronics placed on it rattle at the impact. She throws a hand over heart as if it was going to physically jump out of her chest from the shock, and looks up to meet the gaze of a familiar white-haired girl.

“Oh, sorry for scaring you, too.” She stands awkwardly in the doorway, fidgeting with the seams of her shorts. 

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting you,” Honami reassures her, knowing how shy she can be, but quickly realizes how her actions can be easily misunderstood. “I hope it’s okay I’m touching your papers, I just wanted to organize them a little!”

“Ah,” she reaches out, stumbling in from the doorframe. “I can take care of those.” She bends down to pick up the paper Honami dropped in her fright, and starts shuffling with the sheets she had yet to stack together. 

“Your work is really impressive,” she blurts out, trying to amend what could be perceived as insolence. “At least, it looks impressive! I didn’t read any of it too closely, but it seemed like you had a lot of work done.”

“Thank you… I was up all night composing, but wasn’t happy with any of it,” she states matter-of-factly as she adds her stack of papers to Honami’s.

“If it’s not rude to ask, could I listen?” Her hands start subconsciously wringing together, nervous to make such a bold request. 

“...I suppose a pair of fresh ears could help. Sure, I can play the draft I last finished.” She reaches for her computer mouse before pulling up a MP3 file, aptly titled “askjldkf DRAFT finish finished real actually done”. The song immediately reverbs through the computer’s speakers, making the desk vibrate with its heavy bass. 

After some time, Honami pipes up, “This is really good! I think you’re your own worst critic. It has this unique feeling to it, that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it’s definitely not a bad thing!” 

Unused to the face-to-face praise, the girl’s face flushes as she looks down at the floor. “Thank you…” She repeats in her usual hushed tone. 

“If I had to pick out one thing, I’d say to keep experimenting with the drums. I saw you had different versions of the drumline on a paper, maybe you could try to find a mix between this one and one of the funkier ones? I think it might fit the vibe of the song better,” Honami suggests.

The girl looks up, an inquisitive gleam shining across her eyes. “Do you play the drums?”

“I do! Was it too obvious?” She giggles softly, cheeks turning red. ]

“I just thought it was odd that you focused on the drum part over the other pieces. Thank you, though. I’ll try out your advice.” She nods to punctuate her thanks. 

“Have you ever thought about composing for a living? You’re really good at it, especially for your age,” Honami praises, but observes how the subject of her laudation freezes up at the sentiment. 

“N-No… not really…” She awkwardly rubs the back of her head, placing her gaze back down at the floor. A forgotten, discarded noodle cup sits tilted in the corner under her desk. 

“Really? I think you could really succeed in the field. I bet really popular artists would be lined up at your door begging for a sample, hehe!” The girl only squirms uncomfortably in her chair in response. Honami continues, hoping to convince her of her worth as a composer, “I’ll have to ask you for some help once my band fully forms!”

Cutting her off to stop the endless waves of misguided praise, the girl pipes up, “‘Fully forms’? What do you mean?”

“Well, we were originally just a duo, but we decided to start a band because I’m more comfortable on stage when I have my drum kit,” Honami explains.

“Mm. I see– Huh?”

A flash of white crosses through the computer’s monitors, causing both girls to recoil and guard their eyes with their arms. “N- Not again!” Honami shrieks, blindly reaching out to find the other girl’s arm, but pulls away when she only meets cool metal. Tearing her other arm from its defensive position, she looks at the desk surface she had just made contact with. 

“Ms. Yoisaki?!” She exclaims as she wildly looks around, worried for the girl’s frail composure. 

“I’m fine…” Her hand flails as she reaches out to grab a nearby desk leg to pull herself off the floor. “Where… are we?”

Honami freezes, mouth open like she was about to respond before realizing the absurdity of the truth. Oh, just An and I’s feeling world where Hatsune Miku resides! To either her luck or chagrin, a familiar robotic voice perks up from the doorway.

“Welcome to your SEKAI, Kanade!” Miku’s sneakers squeak as she steps further into the room, hand raised lazily at her side.

“My…?” 

“SEKAI! The place made from your shared feelings! Congrats on joining the band, by the way,” she explains, then winks. “You can ask Honami for more information later.”

“Eh?!” Honami jumps, placing her hand over her heart. She looks over to the white-haired girl with an expression that betrays her innocence, which is returned with a raised eyebrow. 

“Are you… Hatsune Miku?” Kanade asks, far calmer than how An and Honami reacted during their visit. 

“Yes, indeed!”

“I didn’t join any band, though,” she backtracks, confusion lacing her words. Miku lets out a loud gasp, hand racing up to cover her mouth.

“ Hooonamiiii ! Did you not invite her to your and An’s band yet?” She mock-scolds.

“Huh?! No?”

“Your band?” Kanade chimes in.

“I thought it was simple math! She makes music, you need more members…” Miku trails off, shrugging her shoulders. 

“It would be rude to ask something like that to a client!” Honami shouts back, offended on Kanade’s behalf. 

Before Miku can argue back, Kanade stops their argument before it goes too far. “Do you want me to join your band?” At the sudden confrontation, Honami freezes, hands laying limply at her sides.

There are two clear options for her to take: invite Kanade, or don’t invite Kanade. The question, “ Do you want me to join your band? ”, complicates the situation, however. It’s not that Honami’s opposed to her joining their group– in fact, she would be quite happy with the arrangement. The demo she listened to was fantastic, she’s only ever been kind to Honami, and it would be good for her to leave the house more often. But, if she says yes, she may be backing Kanade into a corner if she feels too awkward to deny her request. Though, if she says no, then Kanade may take it as Honami being rude, or not liking her music. 

In the midst of her panic, she remembers her talk with An at the swingset. Don’t sacrifice your wants. She sucks in a deep breath. I have a great opportunity here. I can’t let it go, and disappoint both myself and An. She takes the leap.

“Yes, I do.”

She blinks the overwhelming urge to apologize, run away, and hide away as she awaits her reply. 

“...”

She probably hates me now. She thinks I’m using her for her talent now. I screwed up–

“Okay, I’ll join.”

Honami blinks, looking up in shock. Kanade blinks back.

“Huh?”

“I think… this could be good for me. I’ll join.” She nods, visually affirming what she said. This confirms to Honami that she is not, in fact, having auditory hallucinations to make herself feel better. She grows dizzy with relief, sighing out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in.

“Really?” She asks in a high, hopeful tone, wringing her hands together.

“She said yes, gosh! Stop dragging it out,” Miku interrupts, teasing as usual, as Honami has learned. “Don’t you have a certain playground meeting to go to?” 

“An! Right!” Honami exclaims. “Ms. Yoisaki, would you like to come meet my- our bandmate?”

Kanade gives her a small smile back. “I’d like that, but…”

“But?” Fear jolts through Honami’s body, making her instinctively cusp her hands together.

“Call me Kanade. We’re bandmates now, aren’t we? There’s no need to be so formal.”

Honami’s arms flop to her sides, the shock leaving as quickly as it formed. “Right, Kanade.” She smiles back. “Let’s go!”

“ Annnn ~! I have good news ~!” Honami skips up to the usual swing set, with Kanade stumbling behind, doing her best to keep up.

“Oh, would that be–” She pauses when she turns to look at the approaching girl and an unfamiliar face. Immediately understanding the situation, she jumps up and rushes towards them. “A new bandmate! Honami, you’re amazing! Ah- Apologies, I’m An Shirashi, pleasure to meet you!” She bows politely, subduing her excitement. 

“Kanade Yoisaki, it’s nice to meet you too,” she says in a near-whisper, clearly unused to such hyper energy. 

Catching on to her shyness, An suggests, “Should we go to my dad’s cafe? It’s usually not crowded around this time of day. I can make us some drinks!”

“Ooh, sounds good! Is that okay, Ms- Kanade?” Kanade hums in agreement, nodding her head low enough that her long hair falls into her face.

When the girls arrive at WEEKEND GARAGE, it’s free of customers, just as An predicted. Her dad stands behind the counter, wiping down a mug with a rag.

“Welcome back, An,” he greets them, “Are these new friends of yours?”

“Yep! Bandmates, actually!” An proudly presents them, waving her arms in their direction.

“Bandmates? You’re in a band now?” Her dad questions with genuine intrigue, putting the mug down.

“Yeah!” She bounces over to the counter and hops on a stool. She points to the girls as she introduces them. “I’m the vocalist, Honami’s on drums, and Kanade’s– Uh…”

“Kanade’s…!” Honami tries to fill in the blank, but realizes she doesn’t have the answer either. She turns to Kanade, wide-eyed and panicked. 

“I’ll be the keyboardist,” Kanade supplies, fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket.

“The keyboardist!” An completes her sentence, turning back around to beam at her father. 

He smiles back, but lightly teases, “So where’s your guitarist and bassist?”

“Hey, there are plenty of great bands that don’t have either of those!” She playfully bites back, smacking the counter.

Her dad picks up another dirty mug and returns to his work, shaking his head, “I was just thinking about that old guitar I bought you forever ago that’s just collecting dust in storage right now, y’know…”

Immediately, An turns bright red. “Don’t bring that up! Are you trying to embarrass me!?” She shrieks, covering her face with her jacket sleeves.

“Embarrass you how ? You’re the one that dropped it before you even had the chance to get better,” he lightly chastises her. 

“You played the guitar?” Kanade chimes in, almost making Honami recoil in shock. She’s not sure she’s ever seen Kanade initiate conversation before. 

“She begged me for one after this one live show performance she saw, then gave up after she tried to get on stage before even learning the basics. Hasn’t touched it since,” her dad answers for her.

“I was like, nine or ten! It was traumatizing!” 

“Old enough to know better,” he mumbles, moving onto another mug. As he does, Kanade takes a step forward, moving towards the counter.

“If your guitar’s still in good condition, I might be able to teach you some of the basics,” she offers, standing awkwardly behind An. 

“Really? You know how to play?” An turns to meet her face.

“Mhm. I know a little bit, since it’s good to have the basics down at the least for composing.”

“Wow, An. Look at you, scouting out an ace like that!” Her dad speaks up, beaming at Kanade. She returns his praise with an awkward, tilted but genuine smile. “I’ll go dig out that guitar once I finish up here.”

“Actually, I didn’t scout her,” An corrects, “Hona did.”

“Oh, well in that case, you have two amazing partners.” He sets down the last mug of the set. “Good luck girls, I’ll be back with An’s guitar!”

Now armed with An’s old guitar, the girls set out onto Vivid Street, ready to conquer their first practice as a group. Except…

“Where are we going to practice?” Honami asks, pressing a finger to her chin.

“I left my keyboard at my house,” Kanade says.

“We can’t use the park anymore, since we’re gonna have our instruments…” An trails off, then continues after a moment, “Hona, is your house open? It’d be a pain to have to lug your drums around, right?”

“Mmm… that’s true, but I don’t think my family will appreciate the noise. We could rent a studio space?”

“Do you have money?”

“Not enough…”

“Sorry,” Kanade whispers.

“That’s not your fault, I set my own rate!” Honami squeaks out. Then, an idea suddenly pops up in her mind. “What about the SEKAI?”

“The-!” An starts, then meets Kanade’s gaze with wide eyes. She ignores the other girl’s paralysis, and turns back to Honami.

“You mean that place we were in earlier with Hatsune Miku?” She asks in a manner far too serious for the contents of the sentence.

“Mm, mm!” Honami nods. “If it was born from our feelings, then surely all of our instruments should be in it somewhere, right?”

“That would make sense…” Kanade rests her chin in her hand.

“Wait, Kanade was in that place?” An asks, surprised.

Both girls nod in response. “We were pulled into it together earlier. That’s where Miku actually suggested that she should join our band,” Honami admits sheepishly, twirling her ponytail with her finger.

“Miku suggested it?” She pauses, taking a moment to mull over the information. She fidgets with the strap of her guitar case. “Well, I guess we can check it out…”

Honami pulls her phone out of her sweater pocket, and surveys the street to make sure no one is nearby. “We just have to play the ‘Untitled’ song, right?”

An nods. “That’s what Miku said last time.”

She sighs out. “Here we go!” She presses play, and her phone emits a blinding white light. When she opens her eyes again, she’s still standing next to her bandmates, but now in a familiar classroom. 

“I knew you guys would come crawling back, fufu!” Miku’s voice calls out from behind them. All three girls jump and gasp, turning to face her.

“You are so damn scary,” An chokes out.

“Hehe, am I?” She giggles. “What brings you all here? Did you find your fourth yet?”

“Fourth?” Kanade asks, stepping forward.

“I guess not,” her voice deflates, but quickly picks back up again. “What’s up, then?”

“Are there instruments here? We wanted to use the space here to practice,” Honami perks up, getting straight to the point. 

“Oh, are there! Follow me!” Miku squeals, rushing out of the room. 

“W- wait up!” Honami calls, ushering the others to follow. They’re led to the end of the hallway, where Miku slides open a blue-tinted classroom door, unique from the other tan doors. 

“Here’s the music room! It has all that you’ll need, fufu!” Miku giggles, spinning around with her arms open to mirror the expanse of their instrumental options. The walls gleamed with various guitars and basses, and a giant stack of records stood tall in the corner of the room. A drum kit identical to Honami’s own was placed in the back of the space, and various amps and microphone stands were scattered at the front.

“Woah, this is…” An stands frozen, taking in the overwhelming aura of the room. 

“ So cool! ” Honami finishes in her steed. She runs over to the familiar drum kit, picking up the wooden sticks laying on it. “This looks just like my own set!”

“Of course! Didn’t I tell you this place was made from your own feelings?” Miku smirks at the girl’s excitability. 

“If that’s true, then are all the instruments here related to us in some way?” Kanade asks, sauntering over to the keyboard set up adjacent to Honami’s drums. 

“I’d guess so. I may be in your SEKAI, but that doesn’t mean I know everything about you guys,” Miku explains flatly. Either way, Kanade’s question seems confirmed when she presses down on the keys and realizes it’s an identical copy of the keyboard in her bedroom. 

Looking at the wall filled with various guitars, An interjects, “I don’t think I see anything that’s mine, but I did bring my own guitar, so…” She gestures towards the case on her back. As she does, Miku walks up next to her, and reaches up to grab a guitar from its rack. With a fierce gaze, she looks it up and down with squinted eyes and tight lips. Whatever she was looking for, she finds it, and brings the guitar strap over her head with a determined nod. 

“Ready?”

“For what?” Honami’s head whips upward.

“To practice, duh!” Miku laughs softly, walking to the center of the room.

“W- Wait! I don’t even know how to play yet!” An shouts, gripping the strap of her guitar case.

“And we don’t have any songs finished,” Kanade adds.

“That’s fine,” Miku looks between the girls, “I can help An out, we’ll all just play whatever until we get a nice sound going together.”

“Like a jam session?” Honami asks, old flashbacks racing across her mind. 

“Just like a jam session! Hona, count us in!” Miku strikes a pose with her guitar, preparing to jump right into playing.

“W- Wait!” An drops her case to the ground, frantically trying to zip it open and retrieve her guitar. Honami giggles at the sight as Kanade shifts back and forth to center herself at the keyboard.

“3, 2, 1!”

The session goes about as well as it can for a drummer who hasn’t touched her drums in a while, a keyboardist who’s only played in the confines of her bedroom, a guitarist who quit after one mortifying experience, and Hatsune Miku the Vocaloid. After Kanade nearly collapses from exhaustion, the girls decide to leave the SEKAI. Once back in the real world, they’re greeted by the stark, starry night sky. 

At this sight, Honami shrieks in fear. “What time is it?! If I’m not back by curfew, I’m going to get in trouble!”

“It’s only nine, don’t worry. We’ve been out later than this,” An assures her, adjusting the strap of her guitar case. It’s an awkward feeling, walking around with a giant mass on her back. 

“Hmm… Do you guys wanna go to the park? It’s been a while since our last astronomy lesson,” Honami asks, shifting a small smile towards her partners. “Oh! If you’re feeling better, Kanade, that is.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go,” Kanade asserts.

As the newly formed band traverses down the road to the park, Honami finds herself studying the visible stars above her. She easily spots Sirius, shining ever brightly above every other star. Without thinking, she speaks up.

“Have you guys ever heard of the Leonids?”

“The what?” An responds, still trying to balance the case on her back.

“The Leonids. They’re a meteor shower that appears around every November. However, every 33 years, a special Leonid storm with hundreds to thousands of meteors comes. It’s spectacular to see, really,” Honami gushes, feeling nostalgic.

“Have you seen them before?” Kanade asks, looking at Honami with pursed lips. 

“Mhm, when I was little. It was at the same park we’re going to, with my old fr- band.” She sighs, rubbing the nape of her neck. 

“Hey, maybe we’ll get the next big shower together! Though, you said it was every 33 years, so…” An looks down, letting go off the strap she was still messing with.

“I guess we’ll have to stay together until the next storm,” Kanade murmured, but looked up to see Honami’s eyes shining with excitement– or perhaps it’s just tears gleaming in the moonlight.

“Yeah. We’ll have to.” She looks back up at Sirius and smiles, blinking back wetness. They keep walking down the road, the park appearing at the edge of their vision.

“Kanade! Just in time, your father just woke up!” A nurse greets the white-haired girl, hugging a clipboard to her chest.

“I see. Sorry for arriving so late, I was out late last night,” she mumbles back, looking off to the side in embarrassment. 

“It’s okay! If you arrived any sooner, you would have woken him up,” the nurse giggles, reaching for the doorknob behind her to let Kanade in. “Just be careful with what you say. His memory’s still foggy, and I’ll have to ask you to leave if he becomes too stressed,” she lightly warns.

“I understand.” The nurse nods at the assertion, and escorts her into her father’s room. Kanade stands awkwardly near the door as the nurse walks up to her father’s bedside, beginning to speak with him. She doesn’t listen, too alarmed by her dad’s appearance. She knew he wasn’t in perfect health, far from it, but hadn’t expected him to have grown so pale and skinny. Worry seized through her body, her hands unconsciously balling into fists. However, she’s startled from her stupor by a hand touching her shoulder.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a bit,” the nurse whispers, giving her a thumbs up before closing the door behind her. Kanade lingers, staring at the door before a few moments before turning back her dad. 

“Good morning– or, afternoon, now,” she starts, slowly walking up like one would approach a frightened feral kitten. 

“Eh? Good afternoon… Sorry, who might you be?” Her father asks, unmistakable confusion crossing his face. Kanade falters, unable to hide the pang of dejection that struck through her heart from showing on her face. Still, she looks down in an attempt to mask it.

“I apologize, but my memory hasn’t been good lately due to work-related stress. I can’t recall most things,” he explains sorrowfully, adding on, “except for my family.”

That admission hurts more than anything. Kanade chokes on the pain tearing through her chest, rapidly blinking back tears to collect herself. “I understand,” she says, but she wishes she didn’t. Her father looks on, confusion and guilt creating an unusual mask on his face. In that moment, she wants to run up and tear it off, revealing the face of the father that remembers her. But, she knows that wouldn’t happen. She doesn’t even have the strength to pry it off.

Crawling out of her pitious spiral, she begins digging through her bag. “I brought you a gift. I hope it brings you some luck to recover soon.” She presents him with a music box, one familiar to her, and hopefully him as well. 

Thankfully, he perks up at the sight of the box. “Ah, is that…? My wife’s music box?” Kanade wordlessly nods, reaching out to place it in his hands. He smooths his thumb over the lid, holding it with utmost care. “How did you get this? Are you a friend of hers?”

Kanade tugs her face back into a neutral position to the best of her abilities. She was never a good liar. “Yes,” is all she can muster in response. Behind her, she hears the click of the door, signaling the quiet return of the nurse. 

“Ah, I see. She must’ve asked you to bring me this, since she’s been a bit overwhelmed with the pregnancy lately.” He looks down at the music box in his hands, voice growing quieter, “I wish I could support her, but I’ve fallen into this horrible condition… I’m no good, aren’t I?”

Unused to her dad being so earnestly self-deprecating, Kanade struggles to think of a response. Did he always think this way? Trying to uplift his spirits, she praises, “You’re worried about your family even in your poor health. I would not consider you to be a bad person.”

“Heh, thank you.” A small grin forms as he continues to look over the music box, feeling over the grooves of the wood grain. “By the way, your name is…?”

“Kanade,” she supplies.

“Kanade… How surprising, I was going to name my child that, too,” he comments, raising his eyebrows in shock. She had missed being in his presence, getting to see all of his usual mannerisms. 

“It’s a good name.” She wishes that he knew she was complimenting him, but knows he doesn’t understand.

“Yes, it is,” he agrees. Kanade shifts between her two feet, trying to balance the overwhelming amount of both positive and negative emotions flowing through her. Feeling guilty, she interjects, “I should go now. I have an arrangement I need to go to soon.”

“Ah, don’t let me hold you up, then. Thank you for dropping this gift off,” he waves the music box at her. 

“Of course. I hope you get better soon,” she begins to turn around, but stops herself to add, “for your family’s sake.” Before she can see her father’s reaction, she fully turns. The nurse quickly plasters a smile over her frown, but Kanade caught her true expression before she could conceal it. She simply exits the room without another word.

The nurse follows after, closing the door. “It was nice of you to bring that music box. It seems to have jogged his memory some more, didn’t it?” She smiles sweetly, but Kanade can’t find it in herself to return the platitude.

“Yes, it seems so. I dropped off another change of clothes, so I’ll be leaving now,” she states firmly, hoping she wasn’t coming across as too rude in her shaken state.

“Travel safely, Kanade! Visit again soon!” The nurse waves her off, as energetic as always. In the back of her mind, Kanade wonders how someone who witnesses so much grief everyday can still be so cheerful, even if it’s just an act.

“I couldn’t find any events with empty slots open, so I thought…” An begins, pausing to bite down on a chip. “We could just do a street performance!” She exclaims, throwing the rest of the chip in her mouth and clapping. If she was attempting to generate some excitement from her bandmates, it was a sure failure, as they stare blankly on.

“Won’t it be difficult to carry all of our equipment onto the street?” Honami questions, looking concerned at the lack of thought An gave to the idea.

“We only had one practice session…” Kanade mumbles, sharing the same startled expression. 

“And it went great! I’m like, a guitar master now!” An brags, laughing to herself. She propels herself forward on the swing, kicking her feet upwards. “We don’t have to do a performance today, but I thought it would be nice to do something by the end of the week, at least,” she concedes, much calmer.

“If we’re going to do a live performance, I would like some more practice. I’ve never played live before,” Kanade admits.

An gasps, “Never?” 

Kanade shakes her head back. “Yesterday was the first time I’ve even played with others, in person.”

“I’ve never done a street performance, so I’d like some more practice, too,” Honami agrees. 

“Ah… so if we’re gonna meet our end-of-the-week deadline, we need to get started ASAP!” An halts her swinging, digging in her pocket for her phone. “To the SEKAI we go!”

“Mhm!” Honami hums, ponytail bouncing as she nods ferociously. So, An presses play, and all of them readjust their senses as they’re transported into the other world. However, once their visions readjust, they’re greeted by an unfamiliar face.

“Hello everyone~!” The woman crooned, playing with a long piece of pink hair resting over her shoulder. 

“Is that…” Kanade starts right as An shouts, “Luka?!”

“Heheh, yes, I’m Megurine Luka. It’s nice to finally meet you all,” she introduces herself, a soft blush painting her cheeks. 

Bashfully, Honami notes, “I suppose we should have seen this coming…”

“I heard great things about you guys from Miku, so I wanted to join in on your next practice,” she gushes, holding a hand to her chin. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”

“Y- Yeah! We were just gonna go to the music room, actually,” An sputters out, still not entirely used to the whole talking-with-Vocaloids thing.

As the four girls walk down the hallway together, Honami strikes up a conversation with the newcomer. “Luka, what instrument do you play?”

After taking a moment to ponder, she responds, “I know how to play most instruments, but I suppose for now I can be your guys’ bassist.”

“Really? Thank you!” Honami beams, clasping her hands together in joy. The four of them round the corner to face the music room door, where a familiar face is standing in wait for them. Looking up, she immediately straightens up and waves wildly in their direction.

“Hiya~! Took you all long enough!” Miku shouts down the hall.

“Sorry, we wanted to have a chat in the park before coming here,” Honami explains, stepping into the room after Miku ushers her in. Luka and An bounce in after, with Kanade shuffling behind. 

“Ooh~ What about, what about?!” Miku effuses, practically vibrating out of her skin. 

“You have so much energy today…” Kanade mutters, sitting down at her keyboard bench. 

“You guys made me wait so long, so now I have all this pent-up energy!” She shouts back, “Now tell me, what were you talking about?”

“I wanted to do a street performance by the end of the week,” An chimes in, then admits, “But they’re both a bit worried…”

“Worried? About what?” Luka asks as she pulls an amp out of the corner, turning it into a makeshift seat.

“We haven’t had much practice, it just feels a little sudden,” Honami answers, feeling a little embarrassed. Kanade affirms her statement with a small nod and hum.

“If practice is what you're worried about, then why don’t you all play for Miku and I, and we’ll give you some feedback?” Luka offers with a warm smile. Just as Honami opens her mouth to respond, Miku suddenly jumps and spreads her hands out in front of her.

“WAIT!” She shrieks, then gasps for air before whining, “I’ve been waiting all day to play!”

“Then surely you can wait a little longer, hm?” Luka taps her chin with a mischievous grin. “Help the girls out with this one thing, then we can both join in.”

Miku’s eyes flicker across the floor, seemingly pondering the sentiment. Then, she sighs before trudging over to Luka’s side. “You’re right…”

“Hehe, you’re being so dramatic,” she teases, scooting over to make room for Miku on the amp as well. “So, what will you guys play for us?” With that, the three girls turn to look at each other, the same wide-eyed, uncertain look crossing their faces. 

After a few moments, Kanade speaks up, albeit quietly, “...I sent a song in our group chat yesterday. Do we want to try covering it?”

“Ah, yes! I remember that one, let’s give it a try!” Honami agrees, settling into position at her drums. 

“Alright, count us in, Hona!” An chimes, turning back to the microphone stand.

“Mhm!”

♫~

Their instruments reverb with the last note, hanging in the air like a strong fog. An wipes a bead of sweat from her brow, and sets her gaze on the two Vocaloids making up the audience.

“Yay~! Can we play now?” Miku trills, jumping to her feet.

“You didn’t even give them any feedback!” Luka scolds, pulling her back down to their seat before turning back to the band. “This might sound weird, but I could hear your lack of confidence. You’re all great when I pick apart the individual sounds, but when I measure it as a whole, it doesn’t feel… cohesive, I would say.”

“Hmm… I understand that. We all have a lot of experience with music as individuals, but not so much as a group,” Kanade acknowledges.

“For today’s practice, you guys should work on putting together a setlist for your upcoming performance. Once you have that, then you can really get into practicing and building your teamwork, instead of just throwing everything at the wall in jam sessions,” Luka advises, slyly peeking over at the girl next to her. She doesn’t seem to notice the dig at her, more focused on containing her overwhelming energy. 

“A setlist…” Honami mulls the words over, turning them about in her head. With a sudden invigoration from the help, she beams, “Alright! How about we compare our playlists and pick out songs we all want to play from them!”

“That’s a good idea,” Kanade adds, “I can have an original song for us done by tomorrow’s practice, too.”
“Really?! That would be so cool, debuting an original song!” Honami jumps up, unable to contain her excitement.

“Hey! I thought we were gonna play now!” Miku pipes up, face flushed with frustration.

“What’s gotten into you today?” Luka asks, rhetorical but exasperated. “We can play some background music for their little team building exercise, okay?” This preposition seems to appease Miku, as she immediately jumps up and rushes to grab her guitar. Honami has to hold back her laughter, likening the scenario to an underpaid babysitter with a bored child. 

Once everyone settles into their positions, the so-called “practice” goes smoothly. The three bandmates get their bearings together, figuring out the particular sound they want to have as a group, an overlap in their three distinct tastes. When Honami’s alarm goes off, signaling nightfall in the real world, the band has seemingly come together as a cohesive group, ready to push forward and keep growing with a new foundation set. It’s a perfect spot to leave off and regroup the next day, and An’s exhausted enough to not beg for an hour more. However, someone stops her from leaving with the rest of the group.

“An, could I speak with you before you go?” Luka asks, setting her bass down. Her solemn gaze pierces through An’s heart, giving her flashbacks to everytime a teacher flagged her down after class for a poor test score or messy uniform.

“Just me?” She points a finger at herself.

“Just you,” Luka confirms with a nod. Kanade looks at her bandmate with a concerned expression, and Honami opens her mouth as if to say something. However, An speaks up before she can get a word in.

“Alright, sure!” She beams, then turns to her anxious partners. “I’ll meet up with you both tomorrow. Same time, same place, got it?”

“Ah- uh- mhm!” Honami nods, bowing a little too forcefully. “We’ll just… be on our way now! Bye!”

“Bye-bye! Come on time tomorrow!” Miku shouts at the other two’s fading forms as they leave the SEKAI. With their exit, An turns back to face Luka’s glowering form. 

“D- Did I do something wrong?” An stutters out, readying herself for a scolding. 

“Not on purpose, I think,” Luka’s gaze morphs into one of pity, making the girl feel even more infantilized. “You’re not being honest with your bandmates, but that’s probably because you’re not being honest with yourself, either.” 

“H- Huh?” An’s mouth hangs open.

“It’s good to have goals, but even you know you guys aren’t prepared to do a live performance so soon. What are you trying to prove?”
“I’m not trying to prove anything! I just want to introduce our band to the world!” An protests, voice raising in pitch. This catches Miku’s attention, who was formerly tidying up the disarray that the room was left in. 

Noticing her interest in the conversation, Luka ropes her in, “You were so quiet today, it was like Miku was trying to compensate for your lack of energy.” Miku starts to vocalize her indignity, but Luka continues before she can sputter out a real word, “Yet, you still gave it your all when you guys performed for us… Does this have to do with your guitar?”

At this accusation, An grows puzzled. Even though she was nervous about picking up the guitar again, especially after her less-than-spectacular experiences prior, she hadn’t tried to overcompensate for her past failures. Yet, she feels something click in her brain with Luka’s confrontation. “What do you mean?”

“When I was watching you play earlier, you were so lively and energetic. I was quite shocked, honestly, because you were giving off such an intense, nervous energy the moment you picked up the guitar,” Luka stops to collect her next words, “Although you were so animated, it didn’t really… fit . It didn’t fit with your group, it didn’t fit the song, and it didn’t fit you .”

“Me?” An echoes, clutching her shirt.

“I know you’re a very spirited person, trust me,” Luka giggles softly, “But I also know that you were forcing yourself to act like you were as cool and comfortable as always during that performance.”

“I… I guess I was, huh,” she looks down, ashamed. “I’ve been asking for my bandmate’s honesty, but I haven’t even been honest with them. I shouldn’t force them to this, just so I can prove that I’m better than my past failures–”

“Stop, you’re gonna get nowhere going down a spiral like that!” Luka grasps her shoulders, bending down to meet her eyes at an equal level. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to grow as a person, but you also need to recognize the true intentions behind your actions. Otherwise, you may end up pushing your friends when you actually need to push yourself.”

With that, An finally understands. If she wants this first performance to go well, she needs to be putting forth the extra effort, going the extra mile. Honami and Kanade are already experienced musicians, while she’s only just picking the guitar back up after a spectacular failure. In order to regain her confidence, she was forcing them into an exhaustive schedule, when all she was actually looking for was a boost in her own skills. 

With a new, clearer perspective, An nods to herself. Then, she speaks up, “Luka, Miku, will you let me stay in the SEKAI longer to practice by myself?”

“Do whatever, it’s your SEKAI after all,” Luka notes.

“Ooh, can I help you out?! I’m a total guitar pro!” Miku chimes in, bouncing over to the girl.

An giggles, “Well, I can’t turn down help from a pro, can I?”

The next day, Kanade rushes through the streets, clutching a folder full of sheet music and notes under her arm. She had stayed up all night perfecting their debut song, and in turn had fallen asleep at her desk, and only woke up because Honami had spammed her texts to tell her they went to WEEKEND GARAGE instead of staying at the park. So, now she’s making up for the lost time by hurrying to the best of her abilities, exhausting what little energy she gained from her short nap. Still, she somehow manages to follow Honami’s directions without passing out, and stumbles into the shop.

“Hello, welcome to– oh, it’s Kanade. Hey Kanade!” An drops the platitudes, waving the weary girl over. Noticing that she looks ready to topple over at any slight wind, An starts pouring a coffee into a mug for her.

Honami also notices her fatigued state, asking, “Are you okay? You look tired.”

“Understatement of the century,” An scoffs, sliding the now-filled mug over to Kanade, “You look like you need this.”

“Thank you,” she mumbles, lifting the mug to take a small sip. The bitterness stings her taste buds, unused to anything other than her cup noodles and the sweets Honami would occasionally gift to her. 

“Did you not sleep well?” Honami’s concern rings clear.

“Not really,” Kanade admits. “I stayed up to finish our first original song. I was late because I fell asleep at my desk, so sorry about that.”

“Kanade!” Honami gasps, hands flying to cover her mouth. “You need to take better care of yourself! If I had known that, I would’ve told you to stay home and get some rest.”

“We should cancel today’s practice,” An chimes in. “You’re in no state to play right now!”

“What about our performance this weekend?” Kanade questions.

“It’ll be fine! You’re both so talented already, missing one day of rehearsal won’t matter,” An assures, but doesn’t meet either of their gazes

“I’d rather you not sacrifice your health for our band.” Honami motions for Kanade to hand her the folder tucked under arm, which she does without question. “We’ll look over your song for today, you need to go back home and rest before you fall sick. Can you take the subway?” 

“I’ll see what I can do…” She trails off, looking between her bandmates. “Are you sure this is okay?” She asks, so meek it borders on a whisper.

“Of course, don’t worry about us,” Honami pats her back, and Kanade doesn’t know whether to take it as a reassuring gesture or a sign to start leaving. So, she begins to saunter off.

“Worry about yourself!” An shouts, waving her off. Kanade turns to wave back, studying the dark circles faintly forming under the other girl’s eyes. She wonders if she should say the same thing back, but decides against it. 

Watching the door close behind her, An flinches back to attention when Honami starts speaking. “Should we go to the SEKAI and start learning this?” She holds up Kanade’s folder, pointing to it with her spare hand. 

“Ah–” She begins to agree, but then remembers her conversation with Luka from the night prior. If I keep pushing the others, when I’m the one who needs to practice…

She starts again, “No, it’s okay. We should wait for Kanade, in case she has some special feedback or something. Y’know, since she wrote the song and all, aha!” She scratches the back of her head, hoping Honami doesn’t catch onto her nervous energy. If she found out An was trying to cut them some slack, it would probably push her to work even harder. As their friend and teammate, she couldn’t afford to let them overwork themselves right before their big debut. 

“Oh, okay…” Honami falters, rubbing her arm. “So are we not practicing today again?”

“I guess not,” An responds, perking up when the bell on the door chimes. “Oh, welcome to WEEKEND GARAGE!” 

“I’ll, uh, let you get back to work, then…” Honami starts to pick up her belongings. “I’ll leave the folder with you. See you tomorrow,” she utters, failing to muster the bubbliness she usually has. Before An can respond, she hurries past the entering customers and out of the door. 

“You might want to try some finger exercises later,” Luka advises, “So you can extend them out easier.”

“That’s– that’s a good idea,” An breathes out, wiping the exhaustion from her eyes. It’s hard to tell time in the SEKAI, but she’s sure she’s been practicing there for several hours.

“Hey, I’ve never heard that song before. Where’d you hear it?” Miku asks, feet tapping the floor in anticipation.

“It’s the original song Kanade wrote for us! Isn’t it so good?” An gushes, leaning into Miku’s excitement.

“Kanade’s song? Did you practice in your world today instead of coming here?” Luka cuts in, her flatness killing the mood.

“Well–” An starts, then sighs. “No, I wanted them both to take a break. I was worried if we tried to learn Kanade’s song together, then I would hold them back,” she admits. 

Luka takes a moment to ponder her words. Then, she responds, “I see. But don’t you think you’ve improved enough to learn by their sides?”

“I can always be better,” An snaps back, unwavering. To that, Luka gives a grim frown.

“Can we play again?!” Miku pipes up, already absentmindedly strumming her own guitar.

“Yeah! Count us in!” An squeals back, ignoring the festering worry brimming off of Luka. 

Honami wipes the sweat from her brow, bouncing into the kitchen. “Kanade, I’m finished for today~!” She sings out.

“Mm. Thank you, for both cleaning and the pies,” Kanade mumbles, mouth full of the aforementioned pie. 

“Of course! Are you feeling better than yesterday?” 

Kanade nods in response, swallowing her food. “Much better. Thank you for looking after me.” After a pause, she continues, “Though, I was surprised An canceled practice again. Shouldn’t we start learning the song for this weekend?”

“I’m concerned about that, too,” Honami agrees, her pleasant facade melting away to show her true worry. “We really need to practice together if we want this performance to go well…”

The two girls fall into silence, pondering their situation. An old grandfather clock ticks from another room, as if to remind them of the time wasting away.

“We only have two days left…” Honami whispers, eyes gleaming with tears. Kanade’s taken aback, having never seen the girl in such a sorry state.

She musters up all the positivity she has, and responds, “Then we’ll have to give it all during the next two practices.” 

Honami looks up in shock, which quickly fades into a warm smile. Kanade shoots one back.

> Man, everyone needs to listen to that new Tori song right now. It’s seriously good stuff.

> Tori? who the hell is that

> looks like they just joined the forum. the song they posted is peak, though

> Wow, this is some serious work. It kinda reminds me of Yuki, but maybe even better??

Kanade startles, her phone’s buzzing reverberating through her wooden desk. Closing the tab, she taps on her phone to look at the notification. Her eyes go wide, seeing that it’s already far late in the evening. Had she really been looking through the forum all day? Shaking off the guilt of having wasted her day, she slides open the text from Honami. 

Do you want to meet in the SEKAI to practice?

Kanade’s hands hover over the keyboard, weighing her options. They definitely need to practice, with only one day left before their performance. However, it might upset An if they met up without her. Then again, An was the one who canceled on them again, anyway…

sure. heading there now

She opens up the music app, and presses play on Untitled. When her vision clears, she’s standing outside of the SEKAI’s music room, but…

Isn’t that the song I wrote? Who’s playing it…?

Kanade peeks through the cracked open door, surveying the inside. However, she reels back when her sights lay on An, bent over her guitar, playing her song. Luka sits with her back to the door, diligently watching An’s hands as she plays. Miku croons along, showing much less care to the craft.

Why would she come here without us?

“Kanade? What’s– Hmph!” Honami sneaks up behind her, causing Kanade to instinctively swing around and clamp her hand over the girl’s mouth. Wordlessly, she raises a finger to her lips to shush her, then points through the door crack.

“Ah…” Honami breathes out, deflating as soon as she looks through. 

Apparently, that small breath is enough to catch the ever-attentive Luka’s eye, though. She immediately swings around, meeting Honami’s eyes. She squeaks and scrambles back, but it’s too late. “Hmm, do we have guests?” Luka’s eyes shine with mischief. 

“Huh?” An freezes, looking up to the door. Timidly, the other two open the door all the way and step into the room. 

“Are you… practicing without us?” Honami questions, “I thought you couldn’t practice today?”

Caught red-handed, An falters. “N-no! Well, yes, but, ah…” She looks to Luka for help, but she only stares back with feigned confusion, one eyebrow quirked. 

“I don’t understand, why did you lie to us?” Honami cries out, a desperation to understand spreading through her heart. 

“Lie?” An echoes, the three letters hitting like a punch to the gut. I guess… I did lie. I lied a lot. I told her to be honest with me, but couldn’t be honest back. She closes her eyes, reflecting on the past few days. Some partner I am…

“I did lie,” she admits, standing up. “I lied because I was worried I was holding you guys back. I mean, I’m the only here who really needs to practice, ‘cus I don’t know how to play my instrument, so–”

“You look awful,” Kanade cuts in, abrupt and harsh, as if she unsheathed a hidden knife from under her coat. 

“H- Huh?” An stutters, face flushing with embarrassment. Sure, she was expecting to get chewed out for canceling their practices to work alone, but to be told that she ‘looks awful’ so blatantly, and by the good-natured-yet-quiet Kanade, nonetheless? There’s no proper response but to freeze with shock.

“You’re sweating a lot for only sitting down and playing. You have this hazy look in your eyes, and your dark circles are pronounced by your pallor,” Kanade states blandly, as if she was just reading off a bulletin. “You’re overworking yourself. Trust me, I’d know.”

“Over… working?”

“Now that you say it, she does look a little sick…” Honami leans over and mumbles to Kanade.

Luka lets out a theatrical sigh, signaling her dramatic entrance into the conversation. “I have to admit, this is partially my fault,” she announces.

“Eh?! Do you mean that conversation you had after the first practice?” Miku blurts out, gripping her seat.

“Heh, yes, how observant of you,” Luka teases, but with no real malice. “I tried to advise An not to throw too much on everyone’s plates at once, but it seems to have been mistranslated as ‘take everything off their plates and put it on mine.’” When her admission is met with surprised silence, she continues on, “I suppose I had several chances to stop it from escalating, but I didn’t want to interfere too much… tsk.” She shakes her head, messing up the shape of her pink bangs. 

Honami turns to address An, “Next time you’re struggling with something like this, you can’t push us away. We’re not just your bandmates– we’re your friends, first and foremost. You could never, and I mean never , hold us back.” She pauses to blink back tears, then suddenly rushes forward to grab An’s hands. “I don’t want you to leave!” She cries out in desperation.

Seeing this, An instinctively reaches back and envelops the sobbing girl in a hug. “I’m not backing down that easy, don’t worry,” An chuckles through her own tears. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I got so caught up in my head that I didn’t see how I was hurting you guys. I’m sorry,” she apologizes, pulling away from the hug to catch her breath. 

“Uuu… Does this mean you guys will have to cancel your performance?” Miku laments, her posture visibly deflating. 

“Hey, didn’t I just say that I don’t back down that easily?” An barks back, but the wetness shining in her eyes takes any bite out of her words. “We have such a talented group here, there’s no way we can’t pull together a great show in one day!”

Already having started fretting at the idea of their upcoming set, Honami’s worry melts away with the praise. An’s determination like a contagion, she perks up, “Yeah! We can do this!”

“Mm. You should return to the real world and get some rest. We’ll stay and do our own little session. Miku and Luka will fill us in on what you practiced,” Kanade advises with a warm smile.

“Geez, what a role reversal…” An mumbles, but grins back. “Alright then, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she says, but her pitch heightens as if it were a question.

“Mhm! How about we push rehearsal up by a few hours to make up for lost time?” Honami proposes, to which the other girls hum in agreement. 

“Y’know, you guys pointing out my exhaustion just made it actually set in,” An sighs, picking up her phone. “I’m leaving now, gonna take the best nap of my life!”

“Have fun!” Miku beams, waving her off as she fades out of the SEKAI. Once her figure fully disappears, she turns to those remaining. “Wow, that was a lot, huh?” 

“You were barely involved!” Luka scolds, poking her arm.

“Hey! That hurts!” She whines back, cradling the same arm.

“I didn’t even touch you!”

“Hey, quit arguing! We have practice to do!” Honami shouts over them before the bickering escalates into a real fight. “Now, what did we miss?”

Despite their high spirits and best efforts, it turns out that practice really does make perfect. 

After a constructive practice, the three girls were invigorated and ecstatic to perform the next day. However, their chain of woeful, disastrous events began the very morning of the important event. 

It started with Kanade’s phone charger breaking overnight, causing her phone to die and allowing her to sleep through her alarm and Honami’s desperate texts and calls. So, Honami had to rush over to her house to personally wake her up. However, in her frantic hurry to grab Kanade, she completely forgot that she had left her drumsticks in the SEKAI the night before. So, when they arrived at the spot near Shibuya Crossing where An was already setting up their equipment, she immediately had to leave again to find a hiding spot to safely transport to the SEKAI. However, in such a populated area, this proved to be a difficult task, and she found herself far from their setup by the time she found cover. During this time, she had left An in charge of setting up her drum set. However, An was largely unfamiliar with the proper way to do so, and miraculously managed to break the stand of her snare drum. 

Yet, the girls wouldn’t let such a tally of flukes best their determination. So, they carried on, and began their performance with the debut of their original song. But, with a lack of team practice (and snare drum), the locale of the crossing took no interest in their shoddy performance. And those that did stop to observe held expressions of sorrow, confusion, amusement, and horror. 

Definitely not the faces any of the girls wanted to see in their audience. 

That is, until the tittering of a mechanical robot crawls up to the forefront of their makeshift stage. 

“Hey! Turn. That. Off!” The tiny construction jeers at them in a muffled voice, pointing a metal claw up at An.

“H- Huh?! Wha–?!” She stammers, caught off guard. The music behind her halts to a stop, her bandmates peering over their instruments to get a better look at the robot in front of them. 

“Turn. That. Off! Turn. That. Off! Turn. Th–” It keeps repeating, until a tall boy in a gaudy coat walks up and gently picks it up. He cups the tiny figure in his hands, seeming to quietly coo at it. Then, he looks up to the audience, now doubled in size due to the alarming sound, and begins to address them.

“Fufu, sorry about that! It seems this little guy escaped from my watch,” he shouts out to the sea of people, in a practiced but bold tone. “You see, he’s never been too fond of music. He thinks of it as useless, that everything’s been done before, so why bother if you aren’t already one of the best?” The mysterious boy explains, referring to the cold, metal statue in his hand as if it was any other human. The band behind him just stares on, too stunned to interject and shoo him off. 

He continues, “I suppose his frustration got the best of him today, which is why he interrupted this young newcomer band.” The boy turns to shoot a quick wink at An, causing her to sputter wordlessly. “But, he does not understand the joy of creation. To make something of your own, and share it with the world–” He pauses, taking in a deep breath. “No matter the quality, that is an act of selflessness and bravery. It is something to take absolute pride in. To bear one’s soul to uplift the hearts of others is a beautiful thing.”

Dumbfounded, the three girls stare out at the crowd. Did he just insult these people in the fanciest way possible? Kanade thinks to herself. Though, when she looks at the audience, their expressions have changed to genuine joy. Not the cruel, sadistic enjoyment someone gets from witnessing the failures of others. No, this is pure, kind-hearted warmth. This is the type of feeling I write for… 

“That concludes today’s show! Thank you for your time, you may now disperse!” The boy declares, bowing to the audience as they heed his directions. As the crowd shuffles and breaks away, he turns to finally address the band whose performance he interrupted. “You’re welcome,” he boasts.

“W- Welcome?! You stopped our show to go on some tangent and then told everyone to leave!” An fumes, eyes piercing daggers. 

“Ah, sorry…” He looks down with furrowed brows, but she doesn’t buy his apologetic act.

“Hey, Shiraishi! I didn’t know you were getting into theatre stuff!” A familiar voice shouts out from behind the boy. An looks out from his side, unable to see over his shoulder, and sees the same regular from WEEKEND GARAGE that stopped to talk at her last street show. 

“Theatre–?” She stops in her tracks when Honami suddenly clears her throat and brushes up against her arm. “Ah, yeah! Aha, just… branching out, ah…” She stumbles over her words, unsure of how to validate their disastrous debut. 

“That’s cool! Sorry I can’t talk more, I have an interview to get to. See you later!” He waves goodbye as he bounces off, which An kindly returns. However, once he’s out of view, she turns back to the boy with a vigorous temper.

“Seriously, who are you? Are you with some theatre troupe or whatever?” She questions, hands placed firmly on her hips.

“No, I’m not in any troupe,” he responds, almost wistfully. “I’m Rui Kamishiro, pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have to apologize once more for interrupting your show. I thought I was helping by jumping in, but it seems to have upset you.” He places a hand to his heart, as if to swear on his life. 

An opens her mouth to snap back, but Honami steps forward before she can start. “It’s okay. We were kinda floundering there…” She shoots a side-eyed look to An, sending the message to accept the truth of the situation instead of taking her frustration out on their poor savior. “Hey, actually– Kamishiro, was it?” He nods, so she continues, “Do you do street performances with your robots often?”

Meekly, he rubs a gloved hand to the nape of his neck. “Yes, mostly around here and at Phoenix Wonderland,” he mumbles, a far cry away from his previous dramatics. 

“That’s it! I knew I’ve seen you around before!” She squeals in delight. “You do such amazing shows, I’ve never seen anything quite like what you do!”

Then, a rush of energy surges through her. Caught up in the moment, she blurts out, “You should join our band!”

“What?!”

“Huh?”

“Hm?” He hums, tapping a finger to his chin. “Should you be asking such things so lightly, without conferring with your partners?”

“Ah–!” She squeaks, glancing back and forth between her two bandmates. “Sorry, it just kinda came out…”

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Kanade speaks up, “I would be okay with it.”

“Huh?!” An shouts out.

“What he did today… what he said…” She pauses to take a breath. “It really resonated with me. I want to… be able to inspire people like that. To make others smile so truly like that.”

For a moment, everyone falls silent. It’s as if the world has stopped around them, with only the faint buzz of the static advertisement screens serving as white noise. 

Then, Rui responds, “I’m glad you could find inspiration in my words.” Then, with a bittersweet smile, he continues, “I have to decline your offer. I work alone, and I don’t even play any instruments.”

“That’s okay, An couldn’t either! We’ll teach you!” Honami beams, causing An to deride her exposure. 

“Sorry, I can’t. Like I said, I work alone.” His friendly demeanor drops, replaced by a stoic attitude. Before any of the girls can compose themselves after such a stark change, he starts to trot away. “I hope I’ll see you again, when you’ve grown some more.”

“Y- Yeah… you too…” Honami weakly calls after him, not bothering to chase after and pester him some more. 

The three girls stand in silence, the crowd wavering around them as if they weren’t even there. 

“Mmm… Where did it–” Rui pokes around the messy heap of blueprints, designs, and parts on the floor, lilting when he recovers the screw he was searching for. “There we go!” He exclaims in triumph, but to no one in particular. Despite being somebody who thrives while performing for an audience, he tells himself that he’s better off without the company of others. Still, as the narrator for his own shows, he’s grown accustomed to talking out loud, even in the absence of an audience. After all, “the show must go on” even if there’s no one watching. 

“Now, sing for me!” He commands his newest invention, an operatic robot made from an old puppet he had made for one of his earliest shows. At the push of a button, it chirps out a shrill tune, flawlessly wavering between its preprogrammed melody. “It’s able to replicate a human-like sound, but can only sing what’s in its software…” He muses to himself, “For now, that is. I can probably figure out how to give it some more freewill.” He pauses, shaking himself out of his train of thought. Blinking up at the ceiling of his room, he asks himself, “What time is it again? Maybe that can wait for tomorrow…” He grumbles as he props himself up to reach his phone, tapping on the screen to view the time. But, when he does, he drops his phone in shock as it flashes an abnormally bright light into his face. 

When he looks back up from flinching, he’s greeted by the small, holographic figure of… 

“Hatsune Miku?” He breathes out, moving to sit upright from his lying position on the floor. 

“Ah~! I’m so glad you recognized me!” She gushes, swaying side-to-side. 

“What an incredibly advanced AI… Did I make this in a late-night blur and forget about it?”

“Waah–! No, you didn’t make me! Or– Maybe? No! Not the point!” She spits out, slapping her cheeks to refocus herself. “ Ruiiiiiii ! Please come to the SEKAI!” 

“The SEKAI?” His brows furrow with confusion. 

“Yes, the SEKAI! It’s a place made from your shared feelings!” She explains. “I just dragged the others in here their first times, but I don’t think they liked it, soooo I’m very politely asking you to come!” She raises a fist in the air as if this is a triumphant feat, but the smirk creeping up on her face betrays any of the generosity she claims to possess.

In response, Rui waves his hand through the hologram of Miku. She cries out indignantly, reforming with her hands up in a defensive pose.

“Okay, okay! I got the message!” She whines, then brushes herself off. “If you ever decide to visit, just play the Untitled song on your phone!” Before Rui can ask any more questions, she vanishes just as quickly as she came. 

“Tsk. I wanted to experiment some more…” He trails off, picking his phone back up. “Shared feelings with who ?” He ruminates. 

“With the wave of his hand, the brave alchemist–”

“Hey! How many times have I told you, you can’t be here!” A familiar security guard bounds up to Rui’s portable stage. Seeing the ill-tempered nature of the gruff man, he pulls the emergency string to quickly pack up his setup, devised just for situations like this. 

“It seems this story will have to be finished another day! Will our beloved alchemist a–” A hand grabs out for his flattened stage, causing Rui to startle and pull back his belongings. Not waiting for the guard’s next advance, he scrambles upwards and flees the scene. He weaves between the sea of people wading around the amusement park, but still hears the unmistakable stomps of the guard hot on his trail. Usually, he would be able to escape without the security having even seen what direction he took off in, but this time he was caught off guard by the guard’s brash maneuver. 

Quickly exhausted, he makes the split-second decision to duck into the men’s bathroom. With a slam, he shuts the door and presses against it. Immediately, a force knocks against his back, and he has to push back with all of his might to dissuade the attempt. This is quite the predicament… 

“If you ever decide to visit, just play the Untitled song on your phone!” trills in the back of his mind.

Well, I am at my last resort… 

So, he pulls out his phone, and presses play on Untitled. As he feels his body turn weightless, he faintly registers the door behind him swinging open. It goes unseen, however, as his sights are replaced by a classroom environment.

“So, it’s true,” he reflects to himself, taking a moment to gather his bearings. Then, who shares my feelings? 

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by a weight suddenly crashing into his back and toppling him. “Rui, you came!”

“Ah–” He stands back up, turning to face the figure who he’d met the previous night. However, now she’s full-sized, and certainly not holographic. “I was taking refuge from a Phoenix Wonderland security guard. Is this place… real?”

“As real as me!” Miku chirps back. 

“That… doesn’t really help,” he chuckles, taken aback by the absurdity of his situation. It’s not that he is unsure of the existence of pocket dimensions that exist in one’s phone via song, oh no, he fully believes that’s a possibility that technology allows for in the right hands. He’s just unsure that such a place could be created with the feelings that he shares with others .

However, as if she could read his mind, Miku pipes up, “Do you want to meet the others?”

“Ah, the others…”

Truthfully, he does not know whether to accept or not. Sure, he is a curious person by nature, but, if he were to meet like-minded people, people who share his true feelings … 

Well, he isn’t quite sure they’d get along. Was he a likable person? He didn’t think so. He had never been told so. In fact, he always seemed to do more harm than good around others. Just look at what I did to that band yesterday… 

“C’mon, let’s go!” Miku squeals, physically pulling him away from his spiraling thoughts. Grasping onto his hand without an iron grip that tells Rui that he’s not slipping away from her this time, she leads him down the hallway. The faint murmur of music grows into a strong resonation by the time they reach their destination. 

Miku swings the door open, holding up their connected hands. “I’ve brought him!” She declares, showing him off like a prize catch. 

Rui looks into the room, and freezes at the realization that the ‘others’, the people who share his feelings, are the band whose performance he ruined. No wonder she has such a tight grip, he laments. 

“K- Kamishiro?” Honami stammers out, freezing in place behind her drums. 

“What are you doing in our SEKAI?!” An squeals, nearly falling over her microphone stand. 

“What do you think?” Luka asks slyly, smirking at the girls. 

“Does he… share our same feelings?” Kanade pipes up, standing firm at her keyboard.

“ Ding ding! Winner!” Miku giggles, taking the lull in conversation as a chance to shove Rui into the room and block the exit. 

“Ah… Sorry for the intrusion,” he exhales, looking anywhere but the faces of the people who he regrettably disappointed the day before. 

“This is like fate, or something! You belong to our SEKAI, but you declined our invitation to join us yesterday. You have to join now, c’mon!” Honami chatters, rushing from her seat up to the boy. 

“Sorry, I can’t–”

“You have to! Please!” She begs.

“I’m better off alone, I can’t–”

“Why?” Kanade cuts in.

“Huh?”

“Why can’t you? Why are you better off alone?” She elaborates, unwavering. 

“I…” He trails off. I don’t want to tell them all the terrible things I’ve done to my previous partners… “I just can’t.”

“That’s not a real answer!” Honami wails back. 

He sighs, then tries again. “I ruined your performance yesterday, and upset your leader. I can’t be a part of your team after such an awful act.”

“Bullshit. We ruined it ourselves,” An finally speaks up, a pointed look turned at Rui. “You think what you did was ‘awful’? You should’ve seen how I let those two down this week. I’m entirely responsible for how terrible our set was yesterday. Some leader I am, right?” She huffs out, crossing her arms. 

“An…” Honami starts, but can’t find the words to comfort her. 

“No, I take full responsibility for yesterday’s disaster. Don’t even try to say otherwise,” the headstrong girl asserts. “To make amends, I want the person who saved us from looking like complete idiots out there to be by our side from now on. What do you say?” She extends an arm, welcoming him to their group. When he looks into her eyes, looking for any sort of hesitation, fear, or lingering anger, he only sees a cool determination. 

…Shared feelings, huh?

Rui closes his eyes. Blinks back memories of pained faces, harsh accusations, a rooftop…

He opens them, and swings around to the wall full of different guitars. He surveys his options, then picks a purple-shaded bass from the middle row. 

“Am I holding this right?”

Chapter Text

I was born with bad luck.

If I went on a picnic, it would rain. No amount of lucky weather charms ever worked. My new hat would get blown away by a gust of wind, my favorite shoes would get splashed by a passing car… No matter how hard I tried, so many things would still go wrong. And I just got sick of it… 

That’s when I saw Haruka on TV. She was an idol. I still remember her words,

“Tomorrow will always be a better day!”

And I hold them dear. I have to keep trying, enduring all these hardships. Then, I will have a better tomorrow. 

“One, two, three, four,” Minori pants, waving her arms along to the rhythm. “One, two, three– gah!” Toppling over her own feet, she squeals and hits the floor. Laying on the cold floor of the school rooftop, she stews in yet another failure. “Ah… I still can’t get this part right. Guess I should pack up for today…”

Then, she snaps back to her usual self. To herself, she scolds, “N-No, wait! You can’t just give up now, Minori! Think about Haruka! Her training must be a million times harder than this! I just gotta have faith that tomorrow will always be a better day!” With a huff, she pushes herself off the hard stone tiles and dusts her clothes off. “So I have to keep trying! Until I can become an idol like Haruka one day!” She hops over to the makeshift phone stand made from her backpack, aiming to restart the ASRUN song and begin her practice again. However, when she bends down to reach for her device, it suddenly flashes a bright white. Startled, she falls backward onto the floor once again. 

“‘Untitled?’” She reads off her screen, “I don’t remember downloading a song called that…” As she leans closer to further observe the mysterious track, it suddenly flashes at her again. She reels back, covering his eyes with her arms. “Wh-What’s happening?!” 

Coming to in an unfamiliar place, Minori frantically whips around to any sign denoting her new whereabouts. A large stage stands before her, fully lit by the overlooking lights. Several large screens fill the space of the venue, with clover-shaped neon signs decorating the rest. It’s as if the entire crowd of a concert hall had vanished and been replaced only with herself. Still, despite the strange situation, Minori can’t help but silently gush over the cute decor to herself, aww -ing over the bright lights and pretty signage. 

“Hello!” A bright voice perks up from behind, causing Minori to flail in shock as she tries to turn around. Regaining her balance, she sees a teal-haired girl closing the distance between them from across the pit. 

“Wha– Huh?! Wh- Who are you?!” Minori shouts, stancing up to bolt at any wrong movement like a feral kitten. However, as the figure draws nearer, she gasps out in realization, “M- Miku?!”

Then, once more, from behind her another voice rings out, “Don’t forget about me! Welcome to your SEKAI, Minori!” A smaller, bright blonde girl shouts from the stage. Minori whips around to face her, feeling like she’s been caught in some weird game of Monkey in the Middle. 

“Wh–?! Rin’s here too? This has to be a dream!” Minori babbles, trying to pinch her own cheek.

“It’s not a dream, it’s your SEKAI!” Miku giggles back, winking.

“Huh? SEKAI?”

“Mm, mm! A world born from all of your feelings!” Rin shouts, jumping off of the stage to join Miku and Minori on the floor. “We’re here to help you all find your true feelings again, here in this SEKAI,” she explains. Miku hums in agreement.

“True feelings? W-Wait! I’m confused, what are you talking about…” Minori exclaims breathlessly, going dizzy with the information overload. 

“Really? Not even a little?” Rin muses, taking a second to think to herself. “Well, it seems like you already know your true feelings, anyway…”

“My true feelings?” Minori echoes, still disoriented. “Like, my dream to become an idol?”

In response, Miku giggles once more. Impishly, she answers, “Maybe? In any case, you should hold onto those feelings and never let them go.” Then, in a sudden fashion, she clasps her hands and looks down with a frown. “...Because all of the others are close to forgetting about theirs,” she finishes, tone starkly changed. 

“Huh? I’m still confused…”

“It’s almost time for the show to start!” Miku quickly deflects, looking over Minori’s head towards the illuminated stage. “I’ll see you around, Minori! As long as you and the others keep the same feelings, we’ll all meet again here in this SEKAI one day!”

“Yeah! We’re all rooting for you,” Rin cheers, “Fighting!” She lifts a fist in the air.

“Ah– uh–” Minori starts, but then realizes that the world has started shifting around her once more, “W– Wait!” 

When sensation returns to her body, she’s immediately hit by a cold sting running through her body. “Wh– wh– Huh? I fell asleep on the roof?!” Pushing herself up, she frantically moves to pick up her phone and backpack. “I must be tired… Having a weird dream like that, too…” She laments, “Guess I should really pack up for today.”

Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she shoves against the rooftop door, exhausted from the day’s practice. As she begins her descent through the levels of the school, she checks the time on her phone. “Uu–! It’s past the time they said our audition results would be sent out!” Pulling open her email, said response is sitting unopened at the top of her inbox. Inhaling deeply, she pauses with her thumb hovering over the email. It’s not like I haven’t been through this before, just open it and read it… Still, she can’t check the nervous energy locking up her hand. I got through the initial round, so surely… 

She clicks on the email, scans it over.

Rejected.

I should’ve known. This is number fifty, isn’t it? Trying to snap herself out of her wallowing, Minori continues, Still, I have to remember Haruka’s words! “Tomorrow will always be a better day!” There’s no use in complaining about what’s done, just keep trying!

Even so, it seems that her expression betrays her hopeful thinking, as a classmate calls out to her once she enters the courtyard, “Minori! Did you see the news? It looks like it…”

“Huh? What news?” Minori questions, walking up to the girl and her friend. All sorts of ideas start to rush through her head– Did a classmate get expelled? Was a teacher fired? Did someone die?!

Yet, the real answer seems to be the worst option of them all. “They’re saying ASRUN has disbanded and Haruka Kiritani is retiring!”

Minori’s world cracks in one instance like a fragile mirror. Any semblance of hope she had talked herself into keeping was suddenly dashed, like a candle met with the wind. Unable to find any words, she sputters out, “Wh– Wha– I– I need to get home!”

“Minori!” Her classmate reaches out, but it’s too late. Minori sprints through the school gate, and doesn’t look back. 

The next morning, Minori flops into her seat in Class 1-A, ignoring the stares of her concerned classmates evaluating the ghastly aura shrouding herself. She could barely get out of bed, only motivated by the looming threat of falling behind in her schoolwork. How was she supposed to wake up, peppy and ready as ever, when the only thing keeping her spirits high was just pulled from her reach in one moment? 

ASRUN disbanded, and Haruka retired…

“Hey, doesn’t that girl in the hall kinda look like Haruka Kiritani?” A voice whispers behind Minori, but it pierces through her skull like a banshee shriek. 

“Woah, I think it actually is!” Another voice replies, much louder.

“She’s going into Class C, is she actually–?!”

“Huh?” Minori mumbles to no one, looking to the door at her side. Sure enough, she catches the unmistakable Haruka Kiritani shuffling into another classroom, before growing obscured by other students crowding near her. 

ASRUN disbanded, and Haruka retired… But now she’s only a classroom away from me?!

She lets out a long sigh, but it’s masked by the excited ramblings of her classmates gossiping about the new student. Feeling faint, she puts her head to the desk, and starts to tune out the commotion around her. 

“Minori, are you okay?” A classmate prods her, tapping her shoulder. 

“Wh– Oh! I think I drifted off, sorry…”

The girl’s blonde pigtails sway as she jumps back, startled by her awakening. “Ah! Sorry for waking you up, it’s just that the school day ended, so…” She trails off. 

“Did it really? I must’ve slept through so much, I didn’t sleep well last night!” Minori rambles, scrambling to pack up her supplies. 

“Oh, you don’t need to rush!” The girl advises, “A huge crowd formed right outside our room because a former idol was just moved into the class across from us, so you’ll have to either wait or push through them.” She brushes her hands through her long hair, nervously. 

“Former idol?” Minori thinks out loud, the cogs in her brain turning to catch back up with reality. “Ah, Haruka!” She squeals, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Yes, that’s her. Were you a fan?” 

“Y– Yeah, I was,” she mutters, suddenly feeling shy. Her classmate’s expression lights up, seemingly understanding Minori’s troubles now. 

“She’s been talking with some of the people in the crowd. Do you want to try talking to her?” She offers, adding, “I’ll support you from behind!”

Frantically, Minori shoots up and starts waving her arms. “N- No! Th– That’s not a good idea!”

“Ah! I’m sorry!” Her classmate shrieks, bowing her head. 

“Wait, no! Don’t be! I’m just… not ready for that!” Minori grabs her shoulders, trying to show her sincerity. 

“O– Oh, I see,” she nods. “Then, would you like to walk home together? I wouldn’t want you passing out on your way home…”

Despite the embarrassment flaring up in Minori’s heart, she nods back. “Sure, we’re gonna need a little manpower to get through this crowd, anyway…”

“Heh, yeah…” The girl laughs with apprehension, twiddling her fingers. 

They both grab their respective bags, and move through the open door of their classroom. Immediately, they meet the backs of several schoolgirls surrounding the former idol. Squeezing through the first set of obstacles, Minori catches a glimpse at Haruka. 

“No way,” she whispers to herself, stumbling and stopping in place. Having held on to some disbelief that the Haruka Kiritani was really attending her own school, she falters seeing the undeniable proof of her existence. “I feel like I’m splitting in two!” She squeals, then is pressed back into her classmate trailing her. 

“‘Split in two’?! Are you okay, Minori?” She shouts back over the crowd of gossiping classmates.

“Yes, s– sorry! I’m just feeling overwhelmed right now!” She shuffles back away, ignoring Haruka in the corner of her eye to keep pushing her way out of the crowd. 

Seeing Haruka here in front of me almost makes me able to accept her retirement… Still, I suppose even she was a regular girl like me before she became an idol, right?

She accidentally steps on the back of someone’s shoe, and stutters out an apology.

…Haruka gave me so much hope. I never would’ve been able to keep trying after my first few failed auditions if I never had her words to support me. 

She takes another glance back, looking over the girl following her. Haruka stands with her hands clasped by her stomach, looking out of place but still as charming and confident as ever. Her blue hair sways as she nods in agreement at something a classmate just said, her eyes lighting up as if struck with lightning as she begins to laugh. 

She really does look like a normal girl, after all. She seems so happy and comfortable here… Maybe this is what she really wants. A normal school life is her “better tomorrow”…

“Minori?” Her classmate lightly nudges her, looking a little more than concerned.

“Ah, sorry!” She turns back around, wading through the sea of people. Eventually, she comes to the outskirts, allowing both girls to move more freely.

I’ve only ever been on the receiving end of such warmth, and she’s given me more than enough. I should support her new endeavor, and give her back the kindness she gave. With newfound resolve, Minori hums to herself and pumps her fist. It’s my turn! I’ll be an idol who spreads hope to others! I need to keep working, more and more!

Seeing this, her classmate’s concern only grows. “M– Minori?!”

“Sorry, I need to do something before I leave!” Minori declares. Dashing ahead of the other girl, she waves, “Let’s walk home together some other time, yeah?” 

“O– Of course! Goodbye, Minori!” She waves back, looking uncertain as she raises her other hand to adjust her glasses.

“Bye-bye, Kohane!”

“Alright, let’s pull myself together and get back to practice!” Minori coaches herself, patting her cheeks. Scrolling through her library of songs, she hums to herself in thought. “Maybe a Miku song today? Since ASRUN…” She ponders out loud, then shakes her head. “Wait, ‘Untitled’?–”

“Oh…”

Startled by the sudden visitor, Minori whips her head around, dropping her phone in the process. At the entrance of the rooftop, a certain girl with short, blue hair stands.

“H– H– Haruka?!” Minori squeals, stepping backwards as if the former idol poses any threat. 

“Sorry for bothering you, um…” The former idol trails off, looking to the floor. I’ve never seen her so bashful before! What poise!

“Ah, um, m– my name is Minori Hanasato! Class 1-A, student number 21!” Minori shouts, then cuts herself off when Haruka flinches back. Ah, don’t come off too strong!

“So we’re in the same year. Well then, I’m Haruka Kiritani, Class C. I just transferred, actually…” Minori doesn’t tell her that she already knows, of course. Haruka continues, “Is it alright if I read here? I won’t bother you, I just wanted some time away from…” She trails off, unsure how to finish her sentence without seeming rude. 

Unable to say no to her idol, Minori responds with an enthusiastic, “Of course!” However, once Haruka begins to settle down on the bench, she notices that her former glow has somewhat dimmed. She was used to her always being so put-together on stage, but in person, she seemed exhausted. She seemed paler than usual, slouching instead of sitting upright, and her hair had lost its shape from styling. 

All that attention must’ve tired her out. Ah, maybe I should skip practice today after all. It’ll be hard for her to focus if I’m dancing…

Before she can decide what to do, Haruka speaks up. “Hey, what were you doing up here, anyway?”

“M– Me?! I was, um, doing some dance practice!” She quickly adds, “I’m hoping to be an idol one day! J– Just like you!” With a big smile and flushed cheeks, she clasps her hands together. Yet, when she looks up, Haruka does not return it with her usual warm glow.

“Huh?”

Suddenly, a loud voice shouts out from behind the rooftop door. “Just tell it to me straight!” After a beat with no audible response, it shouts again, “I’m not leaving until you talk to me!” 

“Huh– Who’s that?” Haruka stands up, discarding her book.

“I don’t know! It sounds like an argument…” Minori replies, looking fearfully at the door. Then, without warning, it swings open. 

The owner of the voice, a pink-haired girl, pushes another girl through the door. Not taking any reprieve to survey her surroundings, she continues berating the other girl, “I heard from an old friend that there’s a rumor you’re leaving your group and joining some– some–”

“Airi…” The light-haired girl mumbles, glancing meekly at the two girls already on the rooftop.

“H– Huh? Wait, Haruka Kiritani?!” The brash girl sputters out, finally recognizing their company.

“Mhm. Hi, Shizuku. It’s been a while since we last talked,” Haruka greets the calmer girl, but the other cuts her off.

“Hey, we’re trying to have a private conversation! Why are you trying to listen in?!”

“What? You’re the one who barged up here, yelling loud enough for the whole school to hear you,” Haruka bites back. Minori swallows a whimper, unused to this side of the ever-hopeful idol. 

“Wh–” Airi starts, but Haruka shows no regard and keeps talking.

“Don’t worry. I know when to keep my mouth shut. We all know how the industry is,” she mutters, and Minori doesn’t miss the quick glance Haruka throws at her. She gulps.

Airi seems to choke on her words, gritting her teeth. “Whatever! You big shot idols always act so high and mighty like this! This is why I hate dealing with you types,” she spits out, then directs her attention to Minori. “And you! Don’t go gossiping to all your friends about this!”

Freaking out, Minori squeals, “O– Of course!”

Pleased with the assertion, Airi nods curtly. “Good. You can both leave now. We still need to talk.”

As Minori starts to stutter out a faint objection, Haruka interjects, “Excuse me? You’re the one who interrupted her dance practice. You should be the ones leaving if your conversation is so important.”

“Dance practice? For what?!” She scoffs back. Beside her, Shizuku shifts uncomfortably. 

“I– I’m practicing to become an idol one day. I– It’s my dream!” Minori explains, shy but proud of her goals. 

Then, Airi gives an unexpected response, “You? An idol? Seriously?” 

“Airi!” Shizuku warns, but the bold girl keeps prodding.

“Yes, it’s my true dream! I’ve been rejected fifty times, but I’m never going to give up–”

“It’s no surprise that an amateur like you has been rejected fifty times,” she states blankly, making both Shizuku and Minori reel back. “You should give up. It’s for your own good.” 

Minori just stares back with an unreadable expression, clasping her hands near her chest. Airi adds, “You’re not really the idol type anyway.”

“Huh?” Minori finally responds, blinking at her. Then, with more conviction, she starts, “N– No, that’s wrong! Anyone can be an idol! I want to spread hope to others, just as Haruka gave hope to me! It’s just like she said, ‘Tomorrow will always be a better day!’”

Now, it’s Airi’s turn to recoil in shock. Yet, Haruka’s the one to speak up first. “Minori…” She mumbles, looking to the ground. “You shouldn’t listen to me.”

“Huh?”

“You shouldn’t listen to me,” she reaffirms, then looks straight into Minori’s eyes. “Because I lied. Even I don’t believe my own words anymore.” The words hit like a sucker punch to the stomach, her gaze piercing like a sword to the heart. 

“Wh–”

“See, even Haruka agrees!” Airi perks up, gesturing to the girl in question. Minori freezes in place, a coldness spreading through her body. When she looks to either side, all she sees is a former idol staring at her with a disgusting pity in their eyes. There’s no hope, no kindness, no idolesque warmth. It makes her want to throw up. 

So, she grabs her phone off the cold tile and bolts. A certain untitled track disappears from her library.

Saki readjusts her backpack, unused to carrying the culmination of the weight of all her books at once. Trudging through the courtyard, she hums to herself. Ichi had to stay for her class representative duties, and Honami and Shiho blew me off… Clutching the straps, she thinks, I’m back at school, so why do I still feel so lonely?

However, she’s struck out of her thoughts when a weight much heavier than her books crashes onto her. 

“Ah! I’m so, so sorry! Here, let me help you,” the panicked girl shrieks, lifting herself up and extending a hand out to Saki.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she responds, grabbing her hand and letting herself be hoisted up. However, when she looks up at her accidental assailant, Saki immediately feels a wave of concern wash over her. “Hey, are you okay? Are you crying?”

Having care shown to her just makes the girl start full-on sobbing, however. “W– Wait! What’s wrong?” Saki frets, ushering her over to a bench shrouded behind a tree so passerbys won’t gawk at them. 

“I– I just had a really, really bad day,” she hiccups out, rubbing her tears away with her uniform’s sleeves. 

Frowning, Saki mutters, “Yeah, I get that…” The two girls fall into a comfortable silence, with Saki rubbing the girls’ back as she weeps her feelings out. 

After some time, the girl eventually cries herself out, only some faint hiccups left racking her body. “Th– Thank you,” she breathes out, then snaps back to her senses. “Ah! I’m so sorry for just crying like that!”

“It’s okay, really!” Saki assures her, helping her stand up. “Can I walk you home? I want to make sure you get home safely,” she then asks.

The girl sniffles, then beams back, “Of course! Thank you, again!”

The two of them shuffle over to the gate, the other girl still wiping away some escapee tears. 

“Oh, by the way, I’m Saki Tenma!”

“Oh, right! I’m Minori Hanasato, Class 1-A! It’s a pleasure to meet you, even like this!” The girl exclaims, bowing politely. 

“1-A? So we’re both first years! I’m in Class C!” Saki cheers, giggling lightly.

Minori falters, but tries to keep the conversation going, “Wow, your class must’ve been hectic today, huh?” 

“Yeah, a bit,” Saki sighs, but picks up on the prickling energy coming off of Minori. Attempting to make the tone more light-hearted, she jokes, “I’m more upset that I didn’t get a giant crowd outside our classroom when I transferred in!”

“Wha–?! Were you an idol, too?” Minori squeals, stumbling in shock.

“Oh, no! I just had some, uh, circumstances that stopped me from attending regular classes,” Saki explains, “It’s okay now, though!” Then, she tacks on with a bitter chuckle, “God, I wish I was an idol.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, nothing. I just guess things would’ve been easier if I was an idol, but that would never happen for me…”

You’re not really the idol type anyway.

I lied.

Tomorrow will always be a better day!

“Don’t say that! Anyone can be an idol!” Minori shouts, stopping in place.

Shocked, Saki looks back at her. “Huh?”

“We can both be idols, Saki!” Her eyes gleam, and Saki can’t discern if it’s from her crying fit or her newfound spirit. “No matter what anyone says, we can be true idols!”

“Minori…” Saki warns lowly, but she isn’t sure what against. 

“I’ve been practicing ever since I was little, and I still practice everyday! I’ve been rejected so many times, but I keep applying!” Minori shouts, but with no malice. “I’m going to be an idol, and so will you!” She grabs onto Saki’s hand, beaming at her with a hopeful grin.

“Th– Thank you, but I think you got the wrong idea–” Saki stutters out, trying to pull back. 

“No, I understand completely! No matter how many times we’ve been rejected, pushed aside, and ignored, we need to keep moving on! More and more!” Minori gushes. “Meet me on the rooftop after school tomorrow, let’s practice together!”
“Practice… together…?” Saki echoes, her hands going slack. 

“Let’s make tomorrow a better day, together!” She beams, warmth radiating off her small stature. 

Together… Saki muses to herself. 

Then, she nods. And then nods again, with a more dramatic notion.

“Mm! Rooftop, tomorrow!” 

Throwing her hands up in excitement, Minori throws herself onto Saki once more. This time, Saki catches her weight and hugs back. 

The next day, once classes are dismissed, Saki immediately bounces over to Class A across the hall. Dodging the stream of students rushing over to meet Haruka, she stands at the doorway of the other classroom, waiting for her new friend to pack up. Catching Minori’s eye, she waves at her excitedly. Minori returns the motion with an equal amount of energy, quickening her pace of cleaning. However, her glee is quickly sapped away as a familiar figure saunters by. 

“Oh, Shi–”

“Sorry, I have plans to meet with someone,” the gray-haired girl returns, although her cool tone doesn’t seem very apologetic.

Saki visibly deflates, but tries to keep her tone polite. “Ah, alright.” The other girl doesn’t stop, so she shouts to her, “S– See you later!”

Turning back to the classroom, she nearly jumps when she’s met by Minori standing right in front of her. “You know Shiho?” She asks, but seems to have caught onto the sullen tone of their interaction. 

“Mhm! We’re childhood friends!” Saki exclaims, trying to lift the mood. Surely, we’re still friends, even if she’s acting a little weird… Right? 

“Oh, that’s nice!” Minori’s energy perks back up with Saki’s mood. “Well, shall we go?”

“We shall!” Saki giggles, interlocking her arm with Minori’s.

The two exit the classroom and begin to make their way down the hall to the stairwell. However, Saki falters when another familiar face shoots out from another classroom in front of the pair. “Ah, Hona–” She reaches out, but the other girl shoots a frightened look her way.

“S– Sorry, I have to go!” She stammers, dashing off in the other direction. Minori stands awkwardly at Saki’s side, still holding onto her arm. Saki just sighs, looking down.

“Hey, where did Honami go?” A high-pitched voice asks, catching both girls’ attention. Bounding out of the classroom, a short pink-haired girl appears.

“Oh, she just left. She seemed busy,” Saki explains, unable to mask her disappointment. 

“Uuu… That’s too bad! I wanted to ask her something~” The girl hums, then gasps when she notices their interlocking arms. “Are you two off on some super cool magical journey together?!”

“Uh, we were just heading to the rooftop–”

“A super secret rooftop spy meeting?!” The girl gasps, buzzing with energy. “Let me come, let me come!” She surges forth, grabbing onto Minori’s arm to join their link. 

“Wh– Huh?!” Minori squeals, unused to such forwardness. 

Saki, however, just smiles sweetly at the girl’s antics. “Sure, let’s go.” 

So, the three girls bounce arm-in-arm up to the rooftop, chirping with anticipation. Once they finally arrive at their destination, they spread out to take in the fresh air. 

“Ah…! I love the feeling when it woosh-wooshes and blams right into your face!”

“Like, a strong breeze?” Saki guesses, her pigtails blowing in the wind. 

“Mm, mm!” The girl confirms, shifting her weight between both legs. 

After setting up her makeshift phone stand, Minori pipes up, “Hey, I don’t think I caught your name. I’m Minori Hanasato, Class 1-A!”

“Oh, and I’m Saki Tenma from Class 1-C!”

“Oh, yes, yes! I’m Emu Otori, Emu meaning ‘smile’! I’m in Class 1-B!” The excitable girl exclaims, “Wonderhoy!”

“W– Wonderhoy?” Minori repeats, taken aback. 

“Oh, like the Phoenix Wonderland greeting?” Saki asks, then gasps in realization. “Wait, Otori as in…”

“Mm, mm! My family owns PhoeniLand!” Emu squeals, but tones down her excitement, “I’m not really involved in all that anymore, though.”

“Oh, why is–” Saki begins, but Emu cuts her off.

“What super duper secret cool spy secrets are we discussing today?!”
“Ah, we’re actually here for dance practice…” Minori admits, scrolling through the music library on her phone. Hm? I thought I had another song here?

“Dance practice?!” Emu shrieks, somehow growing even more excited. “Like, for a show?!”

“Well, for an idol show! We’re going to be idols one day, and spread hope and smiles to everyone!” Minori beams, looking up at the hyper girl from the floor.

“S– Smiles?!” She yelps, eyes shining. “Minorinrin! Please let me join your dance practice!” 

Ignoring the sudden nickname, Minori falters slightly. “R– Really? You want to be an idol, too?”

“Idols are all kira-kira shiny smiles! I want the whole world to smile, just like you!” She explains, as confusing but brightly as ever. “So let’s team up!”

“Well, I suppose that makes sense…” Saki mumbles, a small grin growing on her face.

“Emu…!” Minori gasps, heart aflame. The last time she was on this rooftop, she had her dreams dashed in one conversation. Now, they are being revived in the same way. “Of course! Let’s form an idol group!”

The three girls end up practicing for several hours, far past the regular times that after-school activities disperse. They would have continued, if not for Saki remembering her evening shift at the cafe where she works. 

“That was great, everyone!” Minori lauds, moving to grab her phone and bag. However, from behind her, Saki suddenly shrieks with genuine fear. Immediately, Minori and Emu also scream in response. However, Minori’s heart beats with terror when she sees the source of Saki’s panic–

A pair of eyes staring at them from a crack in the door. But, then, Minori notices that the person behind the door is also screaming…

“I– I’m so sorry!” The girl shrieks, opening the door wider. Her glasses shine as the setting sun’s light hits their lenses. 

“K– Kohane?!” Minori gasps, her fear subsiding. 

“Woah! My heart is going dum-dum-dum-dum!” Emu squeals, falling to the floor.

“You know her?” Saki asks, clutching her chest.

“Yes, we’re in the same class,” Minori explains, then turns her attention to her classmate, “What are you still doing here? It’s late!”

“S– Sorry! I heard your music from the stairwell when I was leaving, so I took a peak, but got distracted watching you guys, and then…” She trails off. “I’ve just never seen an idol group perform in real life,” she answers, bashfully. 

Seeing her face flush, Saki speaks up, “Oh, we’re not like, a full-fledged group or anything. This was our first practice, actually!”

“R– Really?! You were so in-sync, though…” Kohane gushes.

“Aw, thank you!” Minori beams, turning to retrieve her phone. “Still, we have to keep practicing, more and more! Wh–!” She’s cut off by her phone flashing a bright white as soon as she picks it up. 

“Ah, your phone’s flashlight is so bright!” Saki moves to shield her eyes.

“That’s not–! Ah!” Minori wails as her vision begins to warp around her. Once everything settles around, she’s positioned in a familiar space. “Wh– Where–?!” She begins, but another voice speaks up before she can gather her thoughts.

“You know where you are, Minori!” Miku playfully hits her arm, causing her to jump back in shock. Her fellow schoolmates look at her in shock, and even though she wants to, Minori can’t find it in her to deny the Vocaloid’s assertion. Even though some of the details have changed, such as the clover decora being changed out with similar, neon four-point stars, it is undeniably the same venue she had been transported to previously. 

“Welcome, everyone, to your SEKAI!” Another voice, Rin, rings out. The yellow-haired girl bounces up from behind the other three girls.

“Our SEKAI?” Saki questions, blinking wildly, “Wait, Miku? Rin?!”

“SEKAI: A world made from your shared, true feelings!” Rin exclaims, gesturing her arms out to the place around them.

“Although, this is a little different than what we originally thought…” Miku adds, shooting Minori a sly wink. 

“Wow!” Emu blurts out, taking in the overload of sights surrounding them. “Everything’s so kira-kira-shiny-shiny cute!”

“I’ve never been in such a large venue like this,” Saki gushes, Kohane frantically nodding in agreement. 

“Fufu, I’m glad you all like the redecorating,” Miku giggles, then looks off to the side, “Though, I do wonder who’s responsible…”

“Huh?” Minori perks up.

“Ah, nevermind! Rin and I just wanted to give a warm welcome to our new friends!”

“Mm, mm!” Rin agrees. “We hope that you’re all able to achieve your true dreams, and we’re all here to support you!”

“That’s nice, but… how are you real ?” Saki asks, brows furrowing.

“The same as you!” Miku replies cheerfully, although it’s not much of an answer.

“Ah… I… see?” Although she thinks to herself, I really don’t. 

“Well, if you want to return back to your world, just press pause on the Untitled track on your phones at any time,” Miku explains, pointing at Minori’s device in her hand. 

“Is that your way of shooing us away?” Minori asks slyly, causing Miku to laugh.

“You’re welcome to stay, but I figured you’d want to go back as soon as possible~” She coos.

“P– Please, let’s go back!” Kohane squeaks out, looking faint. 

“Ah– Alright! Bye-bye, Miku, Rin!” Minori pauses Untitled, and the world blurs around her. Distantly, she hears the two Vocaloids shout their goodbyes back. 

Back on the rooftop, Saki’s the first to speak up, “Ah– Um… Well, I do have to go to work now…” She trails off, turning to collect her bag. 

“R– Right! Um… Let’s meet back here after school tomorrow,” Minori notes, grabbing her own backpack off the floor. 

“Mm, okey-dokey!” Emu cheers, skipping behind the other two girls as they exit the rooftop. 

Behind them, Kohane stands awkwardly, rubbing her hands together. “Wh– What…?”

“One, two, three, four–!” Minori counts, stepping in time to the rhythm. From the corner of her eye, she spots Emu swinging around wildly while Saki does her best to follow the choreography while dodging Emu’s spirited improvisations. However, each girl falters in place when the loud creak of the rooftop dear echoes out from behind them. 

“H– Hello?” A meager voice blurts out, a head of blonde popping out from behind the door. 

“Kohane! Welcome, welcome!” Minori cheers, running over to her classmate as the idol song on her phone keeps playing. “We just started! Come on, I’ll show you what we’re working on–”

However, the sheepish girl holds her ground when Minori tugs on her hand. “W– Wait, I didn’t…”

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never… never done anything like this. I– I don’t know if I can,” she admits, a downcast expression crossing her face. “I only came up here to– to tell you that I can’t join.” She turns to scurry off, but Minori thrusts her hand out to grab onto her shoulder. 

“W– Wait! Miku said that we all share the same feelings, so we need you! Let’s reach our dreams together!” She exclaims, eyes shimmering with hope when Kohane turns around to meet her gaze.

“I– I don’t–”

“Please! Just join us for today, at least,” she pleads, still holding onto her shoulder as if the other girl will disappear completely if she lets go. 

Met with Minori’s intense gaze, Kohane’s insistence wavers. Still, she utters, “I’ve never sang outside of music classes, and I don’t have any experience with dance…”

“I was in the same boat when I first started practicing to be an idol,” Minori explains, “You’ll never flourish if you don’t start learning! It’s like… a flower! You won’t see it bloom if you don’t plant any seeds!”

“Ah… I guess I understand, but…” Kohane looks behind her to glance at the other two girls. Emu bounces back and forth, while Saki sways in place with an expectant look on her face. 

Seeing Kohane look her way, Saki speaks up. “This is my first time at a dance practice, too. My only experience with music before this was a band I was in when I was younger,” she admits, face blushing. 

“I’ve only done unofficial shows at PhoeniLand before!” Emu bubbles, nodding her head.

“See, we’re all pretty inexperienced! We can all learn, grow, and become the best idols ever together!” Minori glows, extending her other hand out for Kohane to grab.

“I– I see…” She whispers, hesitating. However, after a moment’s contemplation, she lunges for her hand. “Okay! I’ll try for today!” 

Minori stumbles back at the sudden movement, but quickly regains her balance. Giggling, she rejoices, “That’s the spirit! Let’s keep trying, more and more!”

“More, more, more!” Emu repeats with a squeal, grabbing onto Saki as she jumps with joy. 

“Ahah…” Kohane laughs nervously, ambling behind Minori as she skips back to the center of the rooftop. “Sooo… How am I supposed to start?”

“Hmm…” Saki ponders out loud, “Why don’t you start by watching us go over what we already learned, and then join in when you’re feeling comfortable?”

“Mhm! That’s a good idea!” Minori chimes with agreement. “You can sit behind my phone and restart the music for us, too!”
“Ah– Alright,” Kohane mumbles, following her directions. The rest of the girls assume their beginning formation, and she restarts the song on Minori’s cue. 

After several run-throughs of the same sequence, Saki feels her heart pounding against her chest, ready to burst out at any slight movement. When she gasps for air, it comes in through quick pants, a small wheeze stringing her breaths. Vaguely, in the distance, she hears Minori’s voice bubble up, and a small-but-quick affirmation hum from their newest member, Kohane. Blinking slowly, she holds onto Minori’s melodic ramblings to keep her grounded, willing her legs to stop shaking so she doesn’t melt straight to the floor. She bends down, bangs obscuring her already blurry vision as she grabs onto her knees, as if she could physically hold herself up by sheer willpower alone. Suddenly, a strident shout pierces into the back of her skull, causing her body to shudder and lock up. As if every muscle in her body constricted at once, Saki hits the ground despite her efforts to regain control of her body.

“S– Saki!” Minori squeals, another shock echoing through Saki’s head. Through blurry darkness, her sneakers race towards Saki’s fallen figure. Panic surging through what small consciousness she had managed to cling onto, Saki gathers the rest of her strength to push herself up on shaky arms. 

“I– I’m fine, I s… swear,” she slurs out, trying to bring her feet back under herself. 

“Are you sure?!” Minori yelps out, moving to support the other girl’s weight.

“Yeah, I’m just… uh… not used to exercising this much, is all,” she mutters out, bashful but regaining her balance with a surprising ease. 

“WAH! Do you need water? Or food?! Something sugary and sweet–! I’ll find a vending machine!” Emu squawks out, dashing through the rooftop’s door without a moment to spare for a response. Despite Saki’s guilt at thinking so, she’s glad that the owner of such a loud voice has left for the time being. 

“Are you really sure that you’re fine?” Kohane pipes up, “That looked like a nasty fall…”

“It’s really okay!” Saki affirms, giggling to show her wellness. “I skipped breakfast today since I was running late for school. I’m probably just hungry, like Emu said…” She trails off, thinking back to the pancakes her brother made for that same morning. It’s fine if it’s just a little white lie… I can’t have them worrying too much… “Besides, it’s not like I fully blacked out, or anything!” She adds, a triumphant smirk painting her face.

“Ah… Do you faint a lot, then?” Kohane asks, worry crossing her features.

Shoot! “Oh– No, no! Ahah…” She laughs nervously, looking away from the concerned looks of her teammates. 

Sensing the awkward air, Minori steps in, “Well, we should probably call it here for today, anyway.” She turns to address Kohane, “Sorry that you didn’t get to join in today… But there’s always tomorrow!” She brightens up. 

“I don’t mind,” Kohane breathes out, her tense form relaxing. 

“W– Wait!” Saki insists, “It’s okay! We can keep going if you want! Don’t let me hold you guys back.”

For some reason, Minori frowns at her declaration. “Saki…” She murmurs, then shakes her head. “No, I’m tired too. Let’s all get a good night’s rest, then meet back tomorrow.” Stepping into the role of group leader, she instructs, “I’ll go find Emu and tell her that we’re done for today. You guys can pack up your stuff and head back home. See you guys tomorrow!” She punctuates with a huge grin and a wave, and bounces off to complete her task. 

Silently, Saki stumbles over to her discarded backpack. 

“Oh, Count Pearl, we’re really in it now…” Kohane sighs, lifting the lid off her snake’s vivarium. She dips her hand down, grabbing the water bowl and raising it out of the tank. “How am I supposed to be an idol when I don’t know the first thing about performing?” She asks, dumping the old, dirtied water out into another bowl. Pausing to look at Count Pearl, the snake just blinks back. “I know, I shouldn’t expect you to respond…” She murmurs, cracking a new water bottle open to replenish the water bowl. 

“Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘learning on the job’?” A voice rings out, making Kohane stumble to the floor and spill the newly opened water on herself.

“Wh– Count Pearl?!” She whispers, shocked and indignant.

“No, not– How would the snake speak? Over here, Kohane!” She follows the reverb of the voice up to the table, where a small, staticy figure waves down at her. 

“M– Miku!” She stutters, picking herself back up. Rubbing at the wet stain on her shirt, she croaks, “...You’re really real, huh?”

“As real as I can be!” Miku nods, grinning back with hands on her hips. “Anyway, have you?” She refers back to her initial question. 

“Y– Yeah?” Kohane stutters in response.

“Then, you should know that in order to learn how to be an idol, you need to start!” 

“I– I know!” Looking down, Kohane shuffles her feet awkwardly. “It’s just… not easy.” She looks up to gauge Miku’s reaction, but is just met with a quizzical look. Taking a deep breath, she continues, “When I was watching the other girls, it’s like, they all have this unique spark to them that makes me think, ‘Yeah, that girl is an idol!’ But… I don’t have something like that.” 

“Fufu… Y’know, it’s a little funny you say that,” Miku covers her mouth, trying to stifle her giggling. 

Suddenly feeling ashamed for oversharing, Kohane wails, “W– Why?!”

“If I had this conversation with any of the other three girls, they would say the same exact thing!” She mocks, “ Oh, the others are all so cute and talented, I could never be like them, ah…! Meanwhile, you have so much potential that you’re hiding from yourself.”

“Huh?” Kohane breathes out, confusion stopping any coherent thoughts from forming.

“What I’m trying to say is: you all have that ‘unique spark’ you were talking about. You just need to find it within you!” Miku beams, looking up with a hopeful gleam shining across her eyes. “So, please join the others tomorrow! I want you to find your spark, but you need to start your journey to do so!” She pleads, hands interlocked with each other. 

“Ah–” Kohane begins to decline, but falters looking at the heartening girl. Gulping down her fear, she responds with a firm nod, “Okay, I’ll try my hardest!”

“Wah– Really?!” Miku squeals, jumping with earnest joy at the girl’s newfound determination. 

I wish I was a worse person, Kohane thinks to herself, fidgeting with a loose thread on her shorts. Then, I could’ve broken my promise with Miku, and bowed out of practice, and went home, and not have to feel this… this feeling… 

“Alright, a full-house practice~!” Minori sings out, clasping her hands together. At the sudden noise, Kohane shudders and jumps. Bashfully, she looks around to make sure none of the others saw, and relaxes when she confirms no one is looking at her. “I thought we could start with a quick refresher of the last song we learned, since Kohane is joining us now,” Minori continues, tone shifting to be more serious.

With the sudden mention of her name bringing attention to her, Kohane feels her body wash over with a cold air. The gaze of a thousand eyes hits her back, but one survey of the rooftop shows that none of the others are actually paying any attention to her. 

Minori’s cheer of “ Alright guys, let’s start! ” startles Kohane out of her paranoid state, but she only rocks forward on her toes when she tries to walk forward. Huh? Why can’t I… 

“K– Kohane?!” Saki gasps, holding her hands over her heart, “Are you okay?”

“Ah–” She croaks out in response, “I… uh…”

“Oh no, she’s crying!” A new voice pipes up, a staticy vision of a yellow-headed girl flickering up from Minori’s phone, laying on her backpack. Kohane lifts a shaky hand to her cheeks, and wipes away a falling tear she hadn’t realized was there. 

“Rin! Ah, it’s not really a good time–” Minori starts, but is cut off by the newcomer.

“What do you mean? I’ll have you know I’m especially good at pep talks now! I’ve been studying– it’s my speciality!” She huffs out, affronted. 

“How do you study pep talks ?” Saki questions in earnest, while Emu stirs with curiosity behind her. 

“That’s not what’s important right now!” Rin shouts back, waving her arms towards the still-frozen Kohane. 

“Ah– right! Kohane, try to calm down!” Minori squeals, stepping towards the other girl with her hands raised aimlessly, as if she wants to reach out and help but doesn’t know how. To her gratitude, Saki takes the reins over the situation. 

“Hey, can you try to breathe in rhythm with me?” She murmurs, softly pressing her hand to Kohane’s back and rubbing in small circles. “Think of it like one of the songs from music class, just simple and easy,” she hums out, slowly guiding the both of them to the ground. As if a switch presses down, as soon as she touches the cold tile, Kohane’s silent tears morph into full-on wailing. Taken aback by the sudden change, Saki reels for a moment, but quickly regains her footing. “It’s okay, you’re okay…” She coos, petting the top of Kohane’s head as she lets the girl sob into her shirt. When Saki looks up to the other three girls occupying the roof, they just stare awkwardly back. So, she returns her attention to the girl in her arms and waits for her to cry herself out.

In the back of the small group, Emu loiters, shifting her weight between her legs with a small frown disgracing her lips. Wordlessly, she looks up from her friend sobbing on the floor up to the newly-colored sky. 

The sun sets so early in the winter. 

“S– Sorry…” Kohane chokes out after a few minutes, pulling back from Saki’s grasp. She takes a moment to wipe at the tears still trickling from her eyes before continuing, “I’m just cutting into your practice, sorry… I shouldn’t have come.”

“Weh? Why wouldn’t you come?” Emu asks, eyes going wide.

“I’m just…” Kohane sighs, looking down to avoid the other girls’ gazes, “I talked with Miku about this last night, and she said we all have something to offer, but I… I can’t do this!” She suddenly whips her head up with a fierce glow in her eyes. “I’m not like you guys! I can’t just stand up in front of others and perform for them! I don’t have that natural talent!” Her breath hitches after the outburst, making Saki fret and waver her hand over her back again. 

“I wouldn’t say it’s a natural talent,” Rin jumps in, tapping a finger to her chin. “Think of it more like a learned skill… Like, ah–! Like roller skating !”

“Roller skating?” Saki echoes, but Rin ignores her and continues on.

“Miku is really good at roller skating, but I’m always falling… Still, I keep going! Miku’s always been better at balancing than me, but she fell when she started too! I was really jealous at first, and I wanted to quit learning how to skate at all. That was, until Miku told me how she fell so hard her first time roller skating that she split her knee pad in half! ”

“Wait– you kinda lost me…” Kohane interrupts, sniffling. 

“I get it!” Emu chimes in, giggling to herself. “It’s like when I started doing shows when I was reeeealy ~ little! I thought it would make my brothers smile, but they didn’t really get it…” She looks off to the side with an uncharacteristically fragile smile. “At the time, it made me really sad, since I thought shows were supposed to make everyone smile. But, when I told my grandpa I wasn’t going to make any more shows, he said that he would help me on my next one so I could really make everyone smile! And we did! So, I think, with a little help from everyone, we can boost your confidence and help you be the best performer EVER !”

“W– Wow, ah… ‘ever’ might be a little much, but…” Kohane stutters out, fumbling over her words as she tries to process Emu’s story. “Thank you, that… does make sense.”

“Mm!” Minori hums out in agreement. “We’re all rooting for you, Kohane! Believe in us believing in you, and we’ll raise you up to the stars!” She shouts, Rin cheering in the back.
“You guys are coming on a little strong for little Kohane,” Saki jokingly reprimands, patting her on the head one last time. “They’re right, though. None of us really have true experience with this whole ‘idol’ thing, so you’re not alone in your fears. Still, as long as we’re having fun performing together, I just can’t consider anything we do a failure,” she adds, pulling Kohane back up to her feet. 

“When you say it like that, I can’t help but agree,” Kohane blushes and averts her gaze. “I still feel a little shaky,” she admits, but steels herself, “But I’m going to trust in myself and you all!”

“Yay, yay☆!” Emu chirps, balling up her fists to her chests as if trying to physically contain her excitement. “Now we can have a wonderhoy-ful practice together!”

“Ooh! Since it’s your first practice with all four of the team, can I sit and watch?” Rin inquires, although the playful smile and determined gleam in her eyes betrays any innocence in her question. 

“Of course!” Minori obliges, leaning down to meet Rin’s face. 

“Ah~! Thank you, thank you– Oh! I should get Miku so she can watch too! This is a historical event, after all!” The virtual singer rambles on. “I’ll be right back! With Miku!” With a flash, Minori’s phone returns to its powered-down state. 

“Hehe, maybe we should start quickly before they return. Something tells me we’re not gonna get much work done with them around,” Minori jests, picking up her phone to start her playlist of music. However, when she looks up to gauge the reactions of her teammates, she meets the pale, glazed-over expression washing over Saki. 

“Huh? Are you–” Before she can finish her sentence, the blonde girl croaks out a muffled noise, and crumples to the floor in a heap. 

“S– Saki!”

It’s cold.

My mouth is dry.

What’s beeping?

Oh, is that–

Saki comes to with a start, breath wheezing through her cracked lips. She faintly registers voices clamoring at her awakening, someone hovering nearby her side while another shuffles off, shouting something about “finding a nurse” or whatever. It’s all intensely familiar to her by now, but all the voices are off, their shadows too short, the scents too sweet–

“Saki, are you awake?” Brown eyes are looking down at her. Who has brown eyes again?

“Kohane…?” She whispers back, conscious thought slowly shifting the gears in her brain back into action. 

“Mm, that’s good,” Kohane responds, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at Saki. The next questions, however, are: “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

The cogs turn, albeit slowly. It feels as if every thought is being grinded against rust, drifting through molasses before reaching her tongue. “...Water.”

Kohane obliges, grabbing a water bottle off the bedside table and twisting the cap off with a hum. “Do you need help, or…?”

Wordlessly, Saki shakes her head and pushes herself up into a sitting position with weakened arms. The motions make her dizzy, draining the little energy she had replenished in her unconsciousness, but she still grabs the bottle and tips it onto her lips. It’s not a cure-all solution, but the coolness helps shock some sense back into her for the time being. 

Right when she thinks the faint throbbing echoing in her head has finally begun to subside, a voice suddenly booms through the door, “ SAAAAAAAKIIIIIIIII! ”

Ah, now this is a familiar situation.  

The boy curtly turns to the other two girls occupying the room, bowing to them with regret. “I apologize for not coming sooner! I was at my new job across town, but I promise I rushed here as soon as I got the call!”

“Waah– You’re so sweaty! Did you run here from across town?!” Emu questions, not one to mince her words. 

“Mm, yes! From Phoenix Wonderland,” he explains, wiping his brow in a self-conscious manner. 

“WOAH! What do you do there?!” Emu squeals in delight, bouncing up to her feet. Kohane turns to hush the loud pair, but the boy responds before she can stutter out the words.

“I’m the future star of the Sunrise Stage, you see!” He boasts, a prideful smirk gracing his face. However, at his declaration, Emu’s bubbliness pops and disintegrates into a simmer of politeness.

“Sunrise…” She whispers to herself, seemingly unaware that she’s doing. Quickly, as if it never left, she regains her former energy, “That’s so cool! I hope you make a lot of people smile!”

The boy’s expression shudders and stills at this, mouth gaping. “Y– Yeah, me too!” His eyes glisten as a toothy grin forms. Emu wonders why this only makes the pang in her chest dig further in. Without another word, she sits back down.

At the same, Minori comes bounding back in, a nurse in tow. “I found one!” She gasps out, bending over to catch her breath.

“Ah… next time, you can press that button over there to alert us that you need a staff member,” the nurse explains, gesturing with a small smile. 

“Oh–! Sorry, I panicked and wasn’t thinking…” Minori responds bashfully, face going red. 

“That’s alright!” The nurse assures, giggling. “Ah, I am going to have to ask you all to step out for a moment while I check over some things with Ms. Tenma, sorry,” she adds, looking sorrowfully at the cast of kids in the room. Obeying, each of them shuffles into the hallway. 

“Oh, I didn’t even notice we had someone join us!” Minori blurts out, looking at the boy. “I’m Minori Hanasato, Saki’s schoolmate and friend!”

“Don’t even worry, I just got here!” He insists, before clearing his throat to jump into his well-practiced introduction. “Tsukasa, meaning to govern! Tenma, representing the majestic Pegasus who soars in the skies above! I am the future star, Tsukasa Tenma!” Punctuating this, he strikes a pose. 

“Wow, what an intense introduction!” Minori gushes, thinking back to her idol auditions. “You must be Saki’s brother, then?”

“Mm, yes!” He nods.

“That’s nice of you to come all the way from Phoenix Wonderland to make sure she’s okay,” Kohane chimes in, albeit much softer than the other two, “I’m Kohane Azusawa. I’m also Saki’s classmate and teammate.”

“That’s right, Saki mentioned she was forming an idol group with some new friends of hers!” Tsukasa recalls. “It’s great to meet you all!” Expectantly, he turns to the pink-haired girl diagonal to him, and prompts, “And you are?”

Having spaced off, Emu shutters back into her peppy persona, like a marionette suddenly hoisted by its strings. “Wah– Ah! Wonderhoy☆!” She waves her hands out, shouting her usual greeting without thinking, “I’m Emu Otori! Emu is meaning ‘smile!’”

Much to her joy, Tsukasa doesn’t seem to piece the phoenix-shaped puzzle together. Sensing a lull in the conversation, Minori takes the moment to ask, “Tsukasa, have you noticed Saki behaving weirdly lately?”

A bewildered and concerned look crosses his face as he tenses up. “Hm? No? If anything, she’s seemed happier than usual, but that’s probably from meeting you guys.”

“Oh, well she did have a small fainting spell yesterday during our practice, and then today she fully passed out, so I’m a little worried…” She trails off, looking to Tsukasa to supply any new information. 

“Ah, well that’s–” He pauses, looking over the girls before him. “Wait, did Saki not tell you?”

“Tell us what?”

“About her…” Tsukasa gulps, looking to the side with a nervous air forming around him. “It feels a bit rude to tell you guys without her permission, but if you’re going to be working together, it’s important that you know…” He trails off again, fidgeting.

“Know– Know what?” The hesitant energy creeps to Minori. Tsukasa frowns, meeting her expectant gaze.

“I’m sorry, it’s not right for me to tell you. You should ask her herself,” he concedes, rubbing his arm. 

Just as Minori begins to respond, the nurse opens the door and shuffles through, holding a clipboard to her chest. 

“Everything’s fine!” She shares, abating the fears of the group. “We’ll keep monitoring her for a few more hours, but she should be fine to go home tonight. You’re all good to head back,” she explains before heading off down the hallway. At her signal, they file back into the hospital room, where Saki’s sitting upright with her usual soft glow returning to her skin. 

“Heeey… guys…” She drawls, smiling at them. It’s a weak facade. Minori tries to return the gesture, but it’s just as meager.

“Hey… Um, Tsukasa said that there’s something we should know about…?”

Immediately, Saki’s shaky grin dissipates. She puffs out her cheeks, snapping as she starts to kick the hospital bed sheets around to get up, “Tsukasa! Did you tell them that–”

He stops her with frantically waving hands, shouting back, “No, no! I swear I told them none of the specifics! Sit back down before you hurt yourself!”

Saki pauses for a moment, glaring at her brother as she weighs the veracity of his words. Appeased, she settles back down onto the bed. With a more solemn demeanor, she turns to the girls. “I suppose I should tell you…” she sighs out.

“Tell us what?” Kohane probes, stepping forward. Behind her, Emu silently takes a seat. Her gaze stays glued to the floor, even when Tsukasa shuffles over to sit next to her. 

“I’ve been… Well, sick. Ever since I was little,” Saki admits, looking down despite having nothing to be guilty about. “I was in and out of the hospital a lot, and even had to stop going to school for a while. I’ve been doing much better lately, though, which is why I came back.”

“Wait– Why would you hide this from us?” Minori questions, no malice behind her words. Still, Saki falters at her words.

“I…” She pauses to sigh. “I really wanted to have a great school experience, since I missed out on so much. I was excited to reconnect with my childhood friends, but… Something happened while I was gone, and it just– it wasn’t the same. I couldn’t rekindle those bonds, no matter how much I wanted to.”

“Oh, Saki…” Minori coos, chest constricting with sympathy.

“I guess I was just worried that my illness would interfere with our idol activities, so I was trying to cover it up,” Saki pauses, breath hitching as tears well up in her eyes. “I just– I don’t want this to fall apart, too. I thought if I could act like it doesn’t exist, then it wouldn’t interfere, but it still did, and I’m so sorry–” She blubbers, clawing at the tears spilling out.

“Saki!” Minori and Tsukasa gasp at the same time, both rushing up to her side to comfort her. Kohane hovers nearby, looking on while clutching her chest. Emu stays seated, head turned to the ground.

“Why are you apologizing? You’ve done nothing wrong!” Minori frets, feeling her own tears starting to form.

“I– I lied to y– you guys,” she chokes out through sobs, “And– And now I– I can’t be an idol with you guys be– because I can’t even get through a stu– stupid practice!”

“Saki, try to calm down,” Tsukasa pleads, squeezing her hand. “You’re going to make yourself sick again…”

“See! I can’t even– I can’t even cry without a problem!” She blurts out, a hand immediately flying over her mouth as soon she says it.

Tsukasa gasps, stepping back to give her some space. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Ah– Saki, there’s no problem!” Minori reassures her, “Your health doesn’t change anything! We’re all still gonna be idols together, and keep working towards our dreams together! Even if you need a break, or have to take a hiatus, or anything– We’ll all keep rooting for you!”

“But–”

“But what?! Why would something like this come in between us, or our dreams? I promise that no matter what happens to you, or us, we’ll always keep moving forward!” She finishes with a small hop, “More and more!”

Kohane hums in agreement. “Just think! We have the–” She cuts herself off, glancing over at Tsukasa with wide eyes. “Um… We have our shared dreams! We can’t just abandon you, or let you run away, because of your health. Like Minori said, we’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Catching onto Kohane’s awkward gesture, Tsukasa pipes up, “I’ll excuse myself so you guys can talk in private.” He squeezes Saki’s shoulder before turning to exit the room.

“Oh, it’s okay!” Kohane politely intervenes, but he waves her off.

“I insist! This is a talk amongst friends and teammates, after all.” With that, he closes the door behind him. 

As soon as it clicks back into place, Saki’s phone, placed on the bedside table along with some of her other belongings, emits a sudden vibrant light. “Fufu, now I can say my piece~!” Miku sings out.

“M– Miku! Is it okay for you to be out in public like this?!” Kohane gasps out.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to come in here for a bit. It’s fine!” She affirms this with a nod, and continues on, “Saki, I think your intentions are misguided.”

“Huh?” Saki bleats, “I was just doing what I thought would help!”

“I know, but surely you realize by now that it didn’t turn out like you were hoping.” Miku pauses, and crosses her arms. “Quite frankly, it’s because you still don’t know what an idol is.”

Offended, Saki retorts, “I– I know what an idol is! I’ve been listening to idol groups since I was little!”

“Mmm, that’s true, but…” Miku puts her hands on her hips. “When you think of an idol, what do you think of?”

“Um, well… Like the pretty costumes? And fun dances, or–”

“Ah! There!” Miku jumps in, cutting her off. “Wrong!”

“Wrong?” She echoes.

“Some idols are extraordinary singers. Others are trained dancers, or excel in variety shows,” Miku explains, “But the one thing they all have that makes them a true idol is their spirit .”

“Um…?”

“I get it!” Minori chimes in. “I got into idols because of what Haruka said: ‘Tomorrow will always be a better day!’ That type of attitude spoke to me, and made me want to become an idol as well. It wasn’t her singing or dancing that made her an idol, but her spirit!”

Saki hums as she mulls their preposition over. “So, it doesn’t matter if I won’t be able to perform all the time, as long as I keep my spirits high and keep trying?”

“Precisely!” Miku beams, grinning. “Hold onto your hopes, and then you can spread them to others!”

Minori thinks back to Haruka, surrounded by her new classmates. 

It’s my turn!

I’ll be an idol who spreads hope to others!

… We’ll be idols who spread hope to others.

She smiles, holding out a hand. “Saki, will you continue this journey with us?”

A cold hand fits into her warm palm. “Of course.”

“Good, because even if you have bad days, tomorrow will always be a better day! ”

The four girls crowd around Minori, crouched down on the cool rooftop tile to hold her phone out. On the screen, a recording of their latest dance rehearsal plays. 

“Ah, I pivoted on the wrong foot there,” Kohane whispers.

“And I forgot to point up at that mark,” Saki comments.

A breeze of crisp air combs through their hairs. 

“Um… Emu?” Minori pipes up.

“Weh?!” The pink-headed girl squeaks, jumping back as she’s startled from her thoughts.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” She amends, before jumping back to business, “I can’t believe I’m telling you of all people this, but it seems like you’re lacking energy in this number. It’s really a bouncy, fun number, so it really needs to pack a lot of power in it! Don’t hold back, alright?”

“Uu– Um– Yeah! Hehe! Heh…” Emu stutters out, throwing up an awkwardly toothy grin and peace signs.

Brushing off the strange exchange, Minori continues, “Alright! Let’s try this one again, and see if we improve!” At her instructions, the other girls bounce into their starting positions. Moments later, Minori starts the song, rushing into her own spot. Three of them start to move with the choreography, but Emu stands frozen in place.

Seeing this, Minori quickly ushers the others to stop and asks, “Emu? Is everything alright?”

“Ah– Yep, yep!” She yelps back, waving her hands around. “I forgot in the moment! Oopsies! It’s alllll –right, though! Just start the song again, hehe!”

Saki tsks, frowning at the obvious cover-up. “How about we take a break?” She suggests.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Kohane agrees, hurrying over to the bench to grab her water bottle.

“Oh– Okey-dokey! I’m gonna go buy a snack, hehe! I heard they put these really cute bunny shaped cookies in the vending machine by the art room, WAHAHA!” Emu rambles as she scrambles out of sight. 

As soon as she’s gone, Saki remarks, “Okay, Emu’s been kinda weird today, right?”

At this, Minori lets out a deep breath of air. “Thank god, it’s not just me! She seemed to be spacing out a lot, and kinda jumpy…?”

“She’s been off ever since we were at the hospital,” Kohane supplies, setting her water back down. 

“Hm? Did something about the hospital upset her? Or was it just the overall situation…” Saki speculates, pressing a finger against her lips.

“I don’t think it was the hospital. She was her normal self when we got there, and didn’t really change until later in the visit…” Kohane responds, mimicking her thoughtful pose.

“Oh, you know what?! Do you remember if anything happened or was said while I went to find a nurse? If I recall, she was fine when I left, but looked a little down when I came back,” Minori points out.

Both girls take a moment to ponder before Kohane answers, “Not really? I mean, Saki’s brother showed up, but I can’t imagine they have any type of history together.”

“No, they don’t know each other,” Saki agrees, then adds on with a gasp, “Although, he recently started working at Phoenix Wonderland as an actor. Emu’s family owns the park, don’t they?”

“They do!” Minori blurts out, “Do you think he did something at work that upset her? Or even worse, her family?!”

“Wouldn’t they have fired him though?” Kohane denotes.

“Definitely not!” Saki exclaims, “Tsukasa’s not that type of person! He’s so nice and caring, he wouldn’t do something to purposely offend someone!” 

“But what about accidentally offending someone!?” Minori shouts back, frightened. 

Saki freezes, thinking back to Tsukasa’s general demeanor. Oh… No… “We need to interrogate Emu! I can’t let him lose his job over a misunderstanding!” She panics.

“Wait!” Kohane speaks up. “If we corner her, she’s just gonna keep evading our concerns like she’s already been.”

“Right!” Minori agrees with a firm nod. “We need to be sneaky about this! Like, slipping in random comments that could relate to the situation and see how she reacts until she finally breaks!”

“Ah… That’s a bit of a sinister way to put it, but I guess that might work…”

“Mhm, agreed!” Saki affirms. “Operation ‘Find Out What’s Wrong With Emu & Save Tsukasa’s Job’ is a-go! ”

“That’s a bit of a long name…” Kohane mutters, to no response. Suddenly, the door opens with a loud clang .

“I’M BAAACK!” Emu squeals, skipping through with arms full of candies. “I got treats for us all, hehe!”

“Aw, you’re too kind!” Minori fawns. “How about we sit down and eat them while having a little team chat?” She turns to ‘inconspicuously’ wink at the other two girls, who voice their agreements with her suggestion. The four form a circle on the floor, dividing Emu’s offerings amongst each other.

“Say, Emu, I’d like to hear your thoughts on something,” Saki starts.

“Mm, mm?” Emu perks up, mouth full of cookies.

“Before you came back, we were talking about, um…”

“Work ethic!” Minori supplies in a shout.

“Right, work ethic!” Saki nods back, then hesitates. “Because, um…”

“Because idols need to have a good work ethic!” 

“Yes, right! So we were wondering how you feel about… um…” She looks up to Minori for another adlib, but the girl just stares back with wide eyes. “People who are like, really loud!”

“Hmm?” Emu hums, swallowing the food in her mouth. “That’s fine by me! As long as they’re happy, I’m happy!”

“Ah, right…” She shoots her a small smile, looking down at the assortment of treats.

“How about people who are late to work?” Kohane asks, munching down on a sweet.

“Mmm… I guess that’s a little annoying!” She responds, voice chipper as ever. 

“Well, how about if someone were to assault their coworker–” Minori chimes in, causing Saki to sputter indignantly. 

“Tsukasa would never! ”

“Weh? Tsukasa?”

“I don’t know that! He was really loud!” Minori argues back.

“That doesn’t mean he’s aggressive!”

“Loud people tend to have tempers!”

“Not him!”

Catching on, Emu interjects, “Why are you guys asking me about Saki’s brother? We only met at the hospital…”

Seeing the horribly dejected look on her innocent face, Kohane breaks first. “We just noticed you haven’t been acting normally ever since he showed up, so we thought…” She trails off, unsure of how to admit their hypothesis.

However, Emu finishes for her, “That something happened at PhoeniLand?” Kohane gives a brisk, small nod as she fidgets with the wrapper of a sweet. “Well, it’s not like I’d know,” she scoffs, her unusually cold tone making the other girls flinch.

“But… your family owns the park, right?” 

“They sure do,” she responds, a darkness creeping into her eyes. “Speaking of my family, I should probably go–” She starts to get up, but Minori scrambles to grab onto her arm.

“No! Wait!” She yelps, falling in her frenzy. “Please just speak to us! Let us know what’s wrong!”

“It’s nothing you guys can help with, so–”

“It doesn’t concern us?” Saki interrupts, her blank eyes meeting Emu’s scorned expression. She smiles at the smaller girl, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. There’s no response, so she continues, “I thought the same about my illness. We all saw how that played out, so…” She gestures to the floor. “Just sit down and talk with us. We might not be able to solve your problem, but we can help. Even if it’s just lending you our support.”

Another breeze cuts through their circle. Emu’s bangs split open with the wind. Looking up, she sees that the sky’s turned a hazy pink hue. 

She sits back down.

“Do you remember the story I told you about my grandpa helping me put on a show after I failed to make my brothers smile?” She looks around, the girls nodding in response. The air is abnormally somber between them. “My grandpa loved shows so much, and he spread that love to me. He even built an entire stage by himself, just to make people smile with its shows.” The ghost of a smile creeps onto her face, but she keeps her eyes focused on the cluster of vending machine goodies. “It was called the Wonder Stage. My dad had it demolished last year, after Grandpa died.”

“Wh– Why?!” Minori gasps.

Emu shrugs back. “Money reasons, I think. Shows aren’t very profitable nowadays. Most kids like fast, zoom-zoom rides,” she laments, “But I liked the shows the most.”

“Wait, but I thought they just built a new stage? That’s where Tsukasa’s working…” Saki interjects.

“Yep!” Emu beams, slowly regaining her cheery nature. “A famous idol offered to work on new shows at PhoeniLand, so they built a new stage!” She giggles, but falters. “Right where Wonder Stage used to be.”

“Oh…” Saki agonizes, regretting bringing the topic up.

“It’s okay, though! As long as there’s shows bringing smiles to everyone’s faces, I don’t mind if it’s Wonder or Sunrise Stage!” Emu bubbles, but the tears streaking her cheeks betray the portrayal of careless joy she’s put on. “It doesn’t matter if my family didn’t tell me they were rebuilding the stage, or ask me to help! As long as they’re happy, I’m happy!”

“Emu…” Saki pauses, unsure of how to respond to her crumbling mask. Even if she could pick up the fallen pieces, she wouldn’t want to put them back and shove the girl back into a box of everlasting, unfaltering joy. “That’s not okay,” she states firmly.

“But–”

“No, it’s not okay. That was wrong of them to do that to you. You shouldn’t be happy, you should be upset. Mad, even!”

Sighing, Emu’s smile falls. She looks to the wrapper-covered ground, face tinged red from the cold air. “Grandpa cared a lot about shows. He always knew how to make them successful, spreading smiles to the whole audience. He told me that to have a successful troupe, at least one of them needs to help all the others’ talents shine.”

Intrigued, Minori leans forward. “Does that mean… You see us as your troupe?”

“Mhm, yep! I wanted to help all of you guys shine, but I couldn’t do that if I was bringing you all down with my troubles!” Her tone stays giddy, as if she’s reciting celebratory news to the group. “I guess Saki’s right, though. Hiding these things just makes it all worse.”

“Emu… It’s nice that you see us that way, knowing how important shows are to you, really,” Minori blushes, genuinely moved by the admittance. “Still, I don’t want you to think you have to ignore your own issues just to help us shine. We want you to shine, too!”

Saki chimes in, “Isn’t a show better if all the performers are at their best? We need you to be in top-form, too, if we’re gonna be spreading smiles to all our fans!”

“Right!” Minori beams in agreement. “We can’t have you drifting off and forgetting stuff because you’re so worried thinking about such awful things by yourself, after all!” She leans to pinch Emu’s cheeks, giggling.

Emu coos back, blushing at the show of affection. “Mm, mm! I won’t hold us back anymore! Let’s make everyone nico-nico-smile☆!” She pushes herself up to feet, reinvigorated. “Let’s get back to practice!”

“Ah, but didn’t you say you needed to go home?” Kohane reminds her.

“Oh, shoot!”

The next day, Minori’s the last to walk through the rooftop door. With a spring in her step, she hums the tune to a new song they’ve been practicing.

“Hey, Minori!” Kohane waves her over. “We were just talking to Miku and Rin, and they asked us to go to the SEKAI once you showed up.”

“Oh? What for?”

“They didn’t say,” Saki responds. “I’m really curious, though.”

“Right?!” Emu squeals, bounding up to grab Minori’s hands. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
“Alright, alright!” Minori chides, but lets Emu pull her over to where Kohane holds her phone out anyway.

“Ready, set…” Her thumb hovers over the play button of an untitled song. “Go!”

The world shifts and pixelates around them, reforming into the familiar venue of the SEKAI. 

“Fufu, you guys came!” Miku’s voice calls out to them from the stage above.

Standing on the floor, Minori cups her hands and shouts back. “Of course! You guys said you had a surprise!”

“Right! So take a seat, and we’ll begin~” She croons, and the girls oblige.

Soon enough, the lights of the arena dim. A spotlight clicks on, focusing in on Miku at the front center of the stage. A song begins to play, Miku swaying with the music. From behind, Rin jumps out, striking a pose in time with a cymbal crash. 

“Oh, they’re performing!” Saki notes, taking in all the sights of the stage. It really was a perfect imitation of a professional venue, even if it was just in their phones.

“Wahaha! Just like a show!” Emu squeals, kicking her feet.

The two Vocaloids start singing, voices complimenting each other sweetly. The four rookie idols look on from the crowd, eyes shining with the stage lights. They go through the song, hitting every mark. At the end, they’re left breathless in their ending poses. Despite the small audience, the cheers they emit reach every corner of the arena. 

“That was a true idol performance!” Minori gushes, running up to the lip of the stage. 

“Fufu, now how about you guys give it a try?” Miku winks down at the girls.

“Huh?!”

“It’s our turn to be the audience!” Rin giggles, hopping down onto the floor. “Go, go! We know you can do it!”

Miku joins them in the house. “Well, do you need a hand getting up?” She smirks, extending a hand.

“Ah… It’s okay…” Minori hesitates, looking up to the large stage. She feels sweat start to bead on her forehead, but isn’t sure if it’s from the bright lights or rising fear.

Still, she’s rocked from frozen state when Saki pats the top of her back. “C’mon, I’ll help you up!” Without waiting for a response, she picks Minori up by the waist, and hoists her up so she can pull herself onto the stage. Quickly, she does so.

When she turns around, she looks down into the seemingly endless sea of black chairs, where Miku and Rin have occupied two in the front. The rest of her friends have joined her side, giggling in excitement for their eminent performance. 

A better tomorrow, huh?...

She runs over to her starting position, and strikes a pose.

Chapter Text

“Why not try taking a stab at this kind of music?” She said. It was the first time she had seen me look happy in a while, at the festival show, my sister said. I don’t think she thought much of it at the time, but that was just the push I needed. I was going to be a street musician. I started practicing, even though I knew nothing. I just wanted to be good at something again. 

Eventually, I ended up in the crowd of RAD WEEKEND. It was the event to end all events– only legends still unsurpassed graced the stage that night. Everyone always says that there will never be a show as awe-inspiring, as eminent, ever again. But I’m going to prove them wrong. Watching those performers, I knew at that moment that I had to dedicate my life to becoming just as good– no, even better– than them. 

After all, I want to make music– but what’s the point if I’m not the best?

“Nice work,” Akito congratulates his partner, touching her shoulder as a sign of solidarity. Catching her cool glare, he adds on, “As always, Shiho.”

“I’ve done better,” she comments, sitting down to wipe her hands of their sweat, “Thanks, though.”

“Well, obviously. We’ve both done better,” Akito taps her side to signal her to move over so he can also sit down. She doesn’t budge. “We gotta keep improving.”

Shiho only gives a curt nod in response, but offers him a hand wipe. “Here, these places are germ cesspits.” 

“Tsk. What are you, a hypochondriac?”

“No, just clean,” she contends, pointing a sharp look his way. “I didn’t even know you knew any words that big.”

“Oi, shut up!” He protests, snatching the wipe from her lazily outstretched hand. It tingles some of the small scrapes littering his hands, but he ignores the burning sensation to view the oncoming performance. To his surprise, a familiar blue-haired girl steps onto stage, bouncing to center stage as she shines a bright smile to the crowd. “Holy shit, it’s Shiraishi!” He exclaims, pointing through the half-closed curtains of the stage wings. Some of the performers around them turn to look at the sudden loud voice, looking at the pair with pure judgment. 

“Who? That sounds familiar…” Shiho questions, looking up to Akito’s baffled face. Seeing such an expressive, genuine look on his face, she has to stifle her laughter.

“It’s An Shiraishi, Ken Shiraishi’s daughter! Y’know, the guy from RAD WEEKEND!” He crouches down to whisper to Shiho, avoiding the strange looks from their surrounding peers. “I knew she was looking for a partner, but I didn’t know she actually found one!”

“Oh, right. RAD WEEKEND,” Shiho mumbles, trying to look indifferent so the people around them wouldn’t think less of her for talking to such a boisterous guy. Still, she looks up from the wing to watch the new performance. Immediately, she freezes over at the sight of a familiar girl, dressed in a red jacket and curled ponytail. 

Akito leans closer, pointing at the stage again. “Pay close attention, they’re gonna be our rivals,” he murmurs, a smirk growing on his face. “Shiraishi also wants to surpass RAD WEEKEND, but we’re gonna do it first and better,” he explains. Despite his confidence, he stumbles a little when the heavy bass of the music kicks in and reverberates through the ground.

“Rivals…?” Shiho whispers, vision trained on the familiar girl. Quickly, she shakes her and snaps out of her catatonic state. “Y’know, if you really want to be the best, you can’t keep focusing on other people,” she snaps at her partner.

“Huh? What is that supposed to mean?” Akito leans back, offended.

“It means that you need to focus on you and our performances rather than focusing so much on these ‘rivalries’ you’re making up,” she elaborates, huffing, “I let you work with me because I was convinced you had the same drive I have. That’s rare to find, y’know? So I guess I was wrong. That is, unless you wanna start acting like a professional…”

Akito stares back, mouth gaped. “Shiho, where the hell did that come from? I’m just as serious about this as you are, so don’t–”

He’s cut off by Shiho rocketing up from her seat, grabbing her bass from the side. “Sorry, I should go,” she mutters, running off before he can respond.

Maybe everyone’s right about me, she thinks to herself. 

Opening the front door, Akito’s immediately assaulted by the cacophony of a shouting match between his everloving sister and undoubtedly supportive father.

“There’s no point in it, your work doesn’t match up to his standards anyway.”

“How do you know that?! You haven’t even worked with this guy in years!”

“I still know how he works.”

“You always say I’m not good enough, but how am I supposed to improve if you won’t let me go to any seminars or classes!”

“An artist that can make it in this world can excel without all the fancy teachers and techniques. That’s why you’ll never make it.”

“Are you serious?! What’s wrong with you?!”

Silently, Akito tiptoes through the living room to avoid the evolving argument in the adjacent kitchen. However, his best efforts to go unnoticed are no match for his perceptive sister.

“And you–!” Ena directs her attention to Akito, a scornful look crossing her face. “You can’t even stick up for me?! You’re just gonna walk away like I’m not being bullied over here?!”

“‘Bullied,’” their father scoffs, shaking his head. “You can’t even put up with some critique, yet you want to pursue art for a career.”

“How is anything you ever say to me just a critique !” Ena wails, furiously rubbing at the tears streaming down her cheeks with the cuffs of her sweater.

Defending himself, Akito pipes up, “What do you want me to do? It’s not like he’ll listen to me,” he gestures towards their father, standing with his arms crossed.

“I– I can’t take this anymore! ” Ena chokes through her sobs, shoving past Akito to run to her room. 

“Wait, Ena!” Their dad calls after her, and she stops in her tracks. When Akito turns to look at her, a surprisingly hopeful gaze has replaced her woe. In the brief moment where their dad pauses, she clasps her hands over her heart.

“You need to give up already.”

Her hands fall back to her sides, and her tears fall in silence. Wordlessly, she runs into the hallway, disappearing from sight. Akito turns to meet his father’s gaze, but his cold eyes seem to look right through him. Not waiting to become the next victim of some misguided tirade, he follows in his sister’s footsteps, sauntering behind to avoid her wrath as well. Once he hears a door-slam reverberate through the wooden house, he knows it's safe to enter his room across the hall from hers. In contrast to his agitated sister, Akito slowly closes his own bedroom door, letting it creak as he carefully pushes his palm against the wood grain so as not to disturb the rest of his family. 

However, the shrill voice that suddenly rings from his phone has other ideas.

“Wh– What the f–” Akito fumbles with his sweatshirt pocket, retrieving his device to shut the screeching sound off before his sister, or worse– his dad– starts banging on his door. 

“Finally! You’re so hard to get a hold of, y’know that!” Flickering through static, as if she’s beaming in through a bad signal, stands the small figure of a teal-haired girl resting atop the cracked phone screen. A hand rests on the jacket tied around her waist, her foot tapping impatiently. 

Wordlessly, Akito stares back, an expression mirroring both confusion and abhorrence painting his face. It takes all of his self-restraint to keep himself from storming into Ena’s room and accusing her of playing some dumb prank or putting a weird virus on his phone, but he knows it’ll only end in having some plushies thrown at his face with her current state. Sighing, he presses the power button.

“Wha–? Did you just try to turn me off?!” The girl huffs out, stomping her feet in a tantrum. “You barely looked at your phone all day and you’re just gonna ignore me?!”

“Is this some new AI assistant thing? What the hell…” Akito mumbles to himself, placing his phone on his bed. He sits beside it, unlacing his sneakers.

“No, I’m not your assistant! The audacity…” She cuts herself off with a pout, then continues, “I’m Hatsune Miku! You know me! …You know me, right?”

“Uh… sounds familiar,” he murmurs, blushing as late-night junior high memories flood his thoughts. 

“Mhm, mhm. Now, would you please kindly play the ‘Untitled’ song that appeared in your music library earlier? Pleeeeeaaasseeee !”

“Oh, was that you? I just ignored that when I saw it this morning.”

“Of course you would!” She groans, “Can you just do it yourself? I’m gonna force you in if you don’t do it yourself, but like, it’s easier if you do it…”

“Force me in where ?” He questions, quirking his eyebrow. “Who am I even talking to? This is the weirdest form of spyware ever.” 

“You’re so difficult! Just play the song!”

“ You’re being difficult. Why should I listen to you?”

“Because… Because!”

“Geez, you’re just as pushy as Ena…” he grumbles. “Fine, at least if this bricks my phone I’ll have an excuse to get a new one.” As he reaches out for his phone, Miku’s form suddenly wavers and disappears. Scrolling through the seemingly endless library of music taking up much of his storage, he finally settles on the untitled track. He stills himself as he presses play, preparing for some type of pop-up or jumpscare. However, he finds his surroundings warping instead of his phone screen. Once his vision clears, he’s standing on hard pavement in the middle of a street. 

“Wh– What the hell?!” He shouts, looking around for any other person. Yet, only empty  storefronts and graffiti-littered bricks stare back at him. 

“Boo!” With a startle, Akito whips around to meet a familiar figure, albeit life-sized this time. “Fufu, I got you~!” Miku giggles, clapping her hands together with amusement.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Where…” He breathes out, the absurdity of the situation catching up with him. 

“Welcome to your SEKAI! It’s a wonderful place made from your and your teammates’ feelings!”
“My teammates? You mean Shiho?” He scratches his chin, trying to keep his cool. 

“Well… I mean, yeah, but…” Miku falters, shuffling awkwardly.

Akito crosses his arms, gaze full of judgment. “But what?”

“But nunya! ”

“Holy shit, you are so immature,” he scoffs.

“That’s not my fault! Blame yourself and your little pals!” She argues.

“I still have no idea who you’re talking about!” Akito shouts back.

Suddenly, the small bell of a nearby shop jingles as the door swings open. “Will you two stop arguing in front of my store? You’re gonna drive any customers away…” A woman steps out, tipping her glasses down to stare the pair up-and-down.

“Sorry, Meiko– Oh, oh! Akito, come meet everyone!” Miku suddenly beams, her gleeful voice betraying the vicious grip she tugs on the boy’s arm with. He nearly trips over both his own and her feet as she pulls him into the store, past Meiko’s death stare. Immediately, a flowery perfume overwhelms his sense of smell.

“Oh, you’re here…” A familiar voice mumbles from a red loveseat positioned at the head of a coffee table. 

“Shiho?” Akito gasps out, eyes wide. Ignoring their earlier argument, he presses, “Do you know what’s going on?”

“Um…” She shifts her weight where she sits, “No, not really…”

“Hey! I told both of you that this is your SEKAI! Don’t make me look like a bad host!” Miku shouts, jumping onto the couch and spreading herself across its length.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to bring them here and not tell them anything, though,” Meiko chastises, waltzing over to join them at the lounge. “Welcome to my humble little shop-slash-workspace, though. You’re free to come and rest here as you please.”

“Humble?” Akito looks around, taking in the lavish space. The lounge is small, but clearly designed by someone with expensive taste. The walls are lined with several shelves and racks, avant-garde fashions acting as the shop’s central decor. In the back, a small glass counter stands filled with jewelry, with a spiral staircase leading to a similarly styled upper floor.

“This is just like those designer shops my mom used to drag us into whenever Shizuku got her payout,” Shiho grumbles, snapping Akito back to the conversation. 

“Well, I am a designer,” Meiko brags, giggling softly, “So I’d hope my shop reflects that.”

“Yet, I’ve been doing most of the work around here lately!” A new voice calls out from the back. Through the door positioned behind the counter, a yellow-haired girl stumbles out, balancing two oversized cardboard boxes haphazardly in her hands. 

Watching the girl fumble, Meiko leans down to retrieve a half-filled wine glass from the coffee table. “And I’m grateful for your help, my wonderful little apprentice!” She calls out, taking a sip.

“Ah– I should probably help her with that,” Miku perks up, scrambling back to her feet. “Um… I’m forgetting something… Oh, right! When you wanna leave, just pause Untitled on your phone,” she explains, gesturing to the phone still laying in Akito’s grip. “Not that I’m forcing you guys to leave, or anything–”

Cutting her off, Shiho abruptly stands up. “I’m leaving.” She digs her own phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her music.

“Wha– I thought I was being the rude one!” Miku sputters out.

“You said we could leave whenever,” Shiho states blankly, “So, I’m leaving.” She pauses the song, and flutters out of existence before their eyes.

Sadly, Miku turns to meet Akito. “I suppose you’re leaving as well?” She shoots him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Ah…” He vocalizes, nodding his head. He goes to pause the song, but stops for a second. “Sorry.”

The last thing he sees is Miku’s disappointed smile morphing into shock.

When he returns to the real world, the first thing Akito hears is a harsh bang reverberating from across the hallway. Startling into action, he runs to throw open the door across his own. 

“Ena?!” He shouts, more alarmed than upset. Surveying the room, he recoils at the sight of broken canvases, snapped pencils, and smashed-up paint tubes littering the floor. “Holy shit, calm down–” He stops to dodge a paintbrush flying towards his head. 

“ GET OUT OF MY ROOM! ” She roars, sobbing through her screams. 

“Not until you calm down!” He yells back, closing the door behind him in a fruitless attempt to dissuade his parents’ intervention. “Stop destroying all your art stuff, you’re gonna regret it in the morning–”

This time, Ena cuts him off. “No I won’t! You heard dad, I should just give up!” She wails, scratching at the tears streaming down her face. “So I’m giving up! Okay?! ”

“No, not okay!” He retorts, taking careful steps forward, similar to how one would approach a feral kitten. “You haven’t let dad get to you before, what’s different about this time?” He reaches out to remove her hands from her face, but she lashes out to scratch him instead. He lets her.

“I’m so tired, Akito!” She wails. “So… So fucking tired…” She falls forward, landing in his lap. He feels his shorts growing wet with her tears, but lets her take the moment of vulnerability. However, it’s short-lived as she suddenly pushes away once he reaches out to ruffle her hair. 

“This doesn’t involve you!” Ena hisses, reaching behind her to grab more paintbrush-shaped ammo to hurl at her brother. “Just leave! ”

“Not until you calm down,” Akito argues back, lifting an arm to defend against her next attack.

“ FUCKING LEAVE!” She snarls. Rocketing up to her shaky feet, she stumbles forward to grab Akito by his hoodie and drag him across the room. 

“Geez, I got it, I got it!” He swats at her hand, freeing himself of her grip. Tiptoeing over the graveyard of art supplies, he exits the room. Before he can look back, the door slams shut behind him. “...I’ll wake you up before I leave!” He cups his hands to shout through the door. The only response he gets is the shattering of a palette against the wall. 

Staggering into the studio, Akito squints at the barrage of white lights glowering down at him. 

“You look like shit,” Shiho observes as bluntly as ever, but fails to hide the amused smile tugging at her lips.

“Thanks, I got a lot of sleep with my sister having a meltdown across the hall,” he mutters, dropping to take a seat on Shiho’s amp.

“Hey, you can sit literally anywhere but there!” She scolds, half-heartedly lifting her leg to kick at him. 

“Yeah, yeah…” He groans, standing back up and stretching with a yawn. When he looks back to his partner, she’s glaring at him with her hands on her hips, and he’s reminded of some amalgamation of Miku and Meiko. With the thought, he startles at the realization that he seriously met several Vocaloids just the night before . 

“We’re not gonna get anything done with you in this condition,” she sighs, then asks, “How about we just go for a walk? I haven’t gotten to look around this area that much.”

“Really? You’re not familiar with around here?” He perks up, but motions for her to follow him out. “I go to Vivid Street all the time. One of the guys that did RAD WEEKEND, Ken, owns this cafe on the street. I visit pretty often.” Opening the doors of the rental space, the cool air of the street hits their faces.

“What, you trying to get letters of recommendation from him?” Shiho teases, kicking at his shins.

“Oi, quit it!” He scolds, swatting at her. “It’s good coffee, is all.”

“Mhm, right…” She jeers, trailing off. 

Dissuading any further ridicule, Akito points over to a nearby alleyway. “Down here’s a shortcut to his cafe. Drinks are on me,” he shoots her a wink, causing her to playfully gag in response. 

“You’re so awful…” She hums, but still follows him into the alley. Immediately, she’s shocked by the striking, plentiful graffiti covering the walls.

Catching her in a rare moment of visible surprise, Akito stifles his laughter. “Yeah, Vivid Street attracts a lot of crazy talented graffiti artists. There’s even cooler stuff the closer you get to the real place,” he explains. 

“Damn…” She whispers, taking in the sights. “I don’t get how people can just make art like this. They must spend their whole lives practicing this stuff, and then they don’t even get recognition for it since it’s illegal.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame…” He agrees, then adds on, “Although, a lot of store-owners on Vivid Street will commission graffiti artists to paint the walls of their own shops, so I guess it’s not all for nothing.”

“I guess, but still…” She shrugs, “If I didn’t get the recognition I think I deserve for my music, I would be pretty upset. A lot goes into any form of art, and I don’t just mean practice.”

Akito only hums back, unable to shake a sense of familiarity in her sentiment. Wordlessly, they make their way to WEEKEND GARAGE. Stepping inside the shop, a warming waft of cocoa washes over the pair.

“Hey, Ken!” Akito greets the older man, nodding to him. 

“Akito! Great to see you again,” he welcomes back, rushing over from the far-side of the counter. “And this is…?” Ken gestures over to the girl standing at his side.

“Shiho Hinomori. Akito and I are working together now,” she explains.

“Oh, you’re his new partner! Yeah, he mentioned you last time he came by.” Then, his glowing demeanor suddenly bristles. “Ah, you guys just missed An. She was here with her new partners, but they ran off while I was in the back…”

“Partners?” Akito questions, visibly confused. “I thought she couldn’t even find the right person, let alone multiple.”

Ken shrugs back, fingers restlessly tapping the countertop. “Guess she finally met the right people. They did seem to have the chops, though. Said one of them plays the drums, and the other knows a whole bunch of different instruments…” He trails off, looking off to the side as he racks his memory, “Ah, what were their names again…? Oh, right! Honami and Kanade, I think!”

“H– Honami, you said?” Shiho stutters out, and Akito realizes he can’t recall ever seeing her blanch like that.

“Yeah, she’s the drummer!” Ken remarks, looking proud of his memory for not failing him yet.

“Oh, I see…” She scans her surroundings, as if she’s looking for the quickest escape. “Um, I just remembered I have a thing, so…” With that, she turns and hurries through the door. 

“Shiho!” Akito calls out, grabbing the door behind her. When she doesn’t look back, he sighs and turns to face Ken again. “Sorry, she’s been kinda off since last night.”

“Show go wrong?” He asks.

“No, just wasn’t our best or anything. She’s a bit of a perfectionist, though, so that’s probably it.”

“Oh, no wonder you partnered up, then!”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Akito contends, fist subconsciously curling up.

“Nothing, nothing,” Ken chuckles. “Well, did you just come to chat or do you want some grub?”

“Mm… I should probably head back home since Shiho ran out. I’ll take my usual to go, though.”

“Yessir, on it!” Ken mock-salutes, then turns around to start prepping his order. Akito slides onto a stool as he waits, pulling out his phone and sending a quick text asking Shiho if she’s alright. By the time Ken slides his order across the counter, there’s still no response.

He tries to reach her again once he exits the cafe.

And again once he arrives home.

And again when he crawls into bed to take a nap.

No response, not even read.

Shiho looks up at the slate-gray wall, vision clouded by the intense colors masking the bleak exterior. She can tell it’s meant to resemble a cherry blossom tree, but the heavy stylization of the piece makes it difficult to tell at first glance. So, she stands at its feet, studying the graffiti.

“Do you like it?” A voice calls out, frightening her out of her stupor. She turns in its direction, where a young boy clad in streetwear marches towards her. 

“I guess,” she admits, shoving her hands in her pockets, “I think it looks cool. I don’t know a lot about art, though.”

“It’s nice that someone around here can appreciate my work,” the boy grumbles, crossing his arms with a huff.

“You made this?” Shiho asks, pointing up at the object in question.

“Mhm! Sure did!” The boy gloats. “Blood, sweat, and tears!”

“Oh… It’s so far out from Meiko’s store, though. I haven’t seen anyone else around, so…” She trails off, but finds her words, “Are you embarrassed, or something?”

At that, he scoffs. “No way! I take my pride in my work! I’ve been forced all the way out here because Meiko doesn’t want any graffiti ruining her store’s image. I tried to fight it, but now even my own sister won’t defend me…” The boy frowns, looking down.

“Hm? Why’s that?”

“Well, we used to be close. But then she got that apprenticeship, and she doesn’t want to get on Meiko’s bad side and lose it, so…”

“So she chose the apprenticeship over you, basically?”

The boy’s eyes light up as he looks back up at Shiho. “Yeah! You get it!” Blushing, he adds, “I’m so glad we have you guys around now.”

“Huh?” Shiho shifts in place.

“Well, I don’t think I’m on good terms with the others right now…”

“Because of the whole Meiko situation?” 

He nods with a small hum, planting his feet by Shiho’s side. Joining her in looking up at his art, he shares, “I just wish we could all be on good terms again. I want to be friends with everyone again. It’s not like I want Rin to lose her job or anything, but I’m not gonna change who I am and what I love just to appease her boss. All I can do is just stay away from her, but I miss her… a lot.”

At this admission, Shiho averts her gaze from the cherry blossom. “...I understand.”

Surprised, the boy whips his head to face her, but she continues to stare at the ground, rolling a pebble around with the bottom of her shoe. “You do?”

“Mm…” She starts, then looks up to meet his eyes. “Y’know, I don’t think we introduced ourselves.”

“Oh, I know you’re Shiho! You can call me Len, if that’s alright.”

Brushing off the oddity of a stranger knowing her name, she nods with a wry smile. “Do you have any more of your graffiti around here?”

“Y– Yeah! Follow me!” Len beams, grabbing her arm as he skips forward.

“I’m so sorry for running late, Airi! I fell back asleep after Akito woke me up, so–” Ena explains, the words falling out of her mouth as fast as she can spit them out. She slides into the booth across from her friend, setting her tote bag down beside her.

“Shut up, it’s fine,” Airi assures bluntly, motioning for the frenzied girl to calm down. “I already got us drinks.”

“Well, it’s not like we get to hang out that much anymore. Excuse me for feeling bad about eating into our precious time together!” Ena grumbles, but gladly leans over to take a sip from the glass Airi slid towards her.

“Actually, about that…” The pink-haired girl chuckles awkwardly, face tinting red. Inhaling a deep breath, she continues, “I’m not going to be an idol anymore.”

At that, Ena spittakes. 

“Woah– Was that really that shocking?!” Airi exclaims, immediately moving to clean up the mess.

“Yes, yes it was! You can’t just casually drop that type of news, Airi! You’ve been doing this stuff forever, and you’re just gonna graduate out of nowhere?!” Ena argues back, wiping her mouth with her jacket sleeve.

“Well, I’m not technically graduating. I’m officially going on ‘hiatus’, since they don’t want to lose my fanbase or whatever. I don’t get why that’s important, it’s not like I’m ever going back to working as an idol,” she grumbles through her explanation. “Or maybe they’re just punishing me for leaving by not giving me a graduation concert, who knows!”

“I know you’ve mentioned having issues with management pushing you into the variety show stuff, but was it really that bad? Like, to quit?”

“I had no freedom as an idol, Ena,” Airi exasperates, “I’m fine with the variety shows and the kids’ programs, but only to some extent, y’know? God forbid I actually get to perform with my fellow idols!” She pauses, trying to calm herself down before she starts shouting in the middle of the family diner. “They were basically pushing me into doing TV only, so it’s not like I would’ve been a performing idol for much longer, anyway. I don’t get why everyone’s making such a big deal out of it.”

“I mean, it is a big deal when someone like Airi Momoi just up and leaves the idol industry,” Ena reasons, “But you know I’m always going to support you through any endeavor!” Then, she suddenly deflates, “I wish you told me earlier, though. I would’ve brought you a graduation gift…”

“Don’t worry about it– like I said, I’m not actually graduating,” Airi giggles, fidgeting with the straw of her drink. “Enough about all my idol problems, how have you been? Hopefully your art career has been turning out better than my idol career.”

This time, it’s Ena’s turn to chuckle awkwardly. Gripping onto her drink with both hands as if she’s steeling herself for Airi’s eventual outburst, she bashfully admits, “Last night, I threw out all of my art supplies and old work. Every single one. I’m done with it.”

“Wh– Wha…! I’m supposed to be one quitting everything I’ve worked up to my whole life, not you! Stop copying me!” Airi sputters out, teasing. 

“Wait– You’re only upset because I’m also quitting my passion?” Ena questions, indignantly.

“I mean, it would be messed up if I tried to talk you back into it when you were so supportive about me leaving the idol industry… So I’ll also support you through any endeavor, as long as you’re happy.” Raising an eyebrow, her tone deepens, “You are happy, right?”

Pausing, Ena takes a moment to consider her words before responding. “Yeah, I think. Now my dad won’t have a reason to be on my case all the time, so… I think things will get better.” With a small smile, she looks up to Airi’s concerned face.

“Alright, I believe you,” she responds, but her expression betrays the notion. “I’m not gonna give you an idol pep talk and tell you to never abandon your dreams, or whatever.”

“Good, because you’re not an idol anymore,” Ena teases back with a wink and a giggle.

Suddenly, a small voice perks up from beside their table, stammering Airi’s name. When the two girls look over, they’re met with a young girl, clearly no older than five, pointing up at the former idol. Her mom, looking rather embarrassed and disheveled, holds onto the girl’s arm to stop her from rushing up to Airi’s seat. 

“I’m so sorry, she’s just such a big fan of you on that one show, so she ran over without asking…” The mother explains, voice raspy. 

“Uh, it’s no problem!” Airi chuckles, waving her hand. She slides over to the end of the booth, leaning down to the girl’s height. “Heya! What’s your name?”

“H– Hanako!” The girl squeaks out, dashing forward as she breaks free from her mom’s hold. She throws her arms around Airi’s leg, latching on, causing the former idol to instinctively flinch back. 

“Woah– Um, let’s back up a little, haha…” She falters, trying to peel the girl off of her.

“Hey, don’t touch my kid!” The mom suddenly barks, making Airi shrink back further. “I know you idols think you’re above everyone else, but you could at least pretend to not be so fake around your young fans!” She spits, tone full of venom. At her mother’s shouting, Hanako detaches herself from her idol, stumbling backwards. Immediately, she begins to wail as she’s pulled into her mom’s arms. As she walks off with a scowl, she mumbles, “Great, now I have to deal with this…”

“Geez, what’s with parents not wanting to parent?” Ena jeers as Airi sinks back into her seat. 

“Maybe it really is for the best that I’m quitting…” Airi laments, “Clearly I don’t have the same idol spark that I used to.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” Ena argues, “You just had a little leech trying to steal your leg and you didn’t kick it! You did better than I would have.”

The former idol gapes. “You’re crazy.” Then, she sighs and settles into a more somber tone. “I’ve just become so disillusioned with the whole idol thing recently. It sucks because I still want to reach people with my music, but my managers don’t even want me on the stage anymore. It’s easier to… give up, I guess.”

Suddenly, Ena lights up, nearly knocking her drink over as she scrambles to straighten up. “Hey, you could always join Akito in the livehouses! Just pick a new name and like, bleach some blonde streaks into your hair or whatever those guys do.”

At this proposal, Airi scoffs. “Yeah, that’ll work until I step on stage for the first time and everyone starts saying I look like this one idol they saw their younger sisters watching on the TV…” Ena only shrugs back and takes another sip from her drink. She adds on, this time with sincerity, “Thanks for the idea, anyway. I’m sure I’ll figure something out…”

Lifting the ceramic bowl to his lips, Akito tilts his head back to pour the rest of the soup into his mouth. 

“Do you really have to do that at the table?” His father scolds, glaring at him from across the table. 

“Just don’t want any of mom’s food to go to waste,” Akito responds blankly, but sets the bowl back down. Behind him, he hears the front door click and turn open. 

Slamming his hands against the table, his dad suddenly propels himself upwards. “Ena Shinonome, where the hell have you been?”

“Wha– I told mom I was eating out with a friend tonight! Are you seriously just finding new stuff to be mad at me about now that I quit pursuing art?!” Ena thunders, face flushing red.

“So you’re going to choose your friends over your own family?” He chastises, glowering down at her from across the room.

“What family?!” She shrieks back, already stomping towards her room. “I’m not dealing with this! I listened to you, I quit art, I threw everything away! Leave me alone already!” As she disappears into the hallway, the last thing Akito sees is her wipe away the tears starting to pour from her eyes. Yet, one of her anguished shouts sticks in his head– “ I threw everything away! ” Sure, she’s destroyed her materials and threatened to discard them several times before, but something about the way she is speaking now… Wordlessly, Akito stands up, following after her.

Quietly pushing her door open, he nearly gasps out loud when he sees the barren state of her room. There are no canvases lining her walls, paint tubes scattering the floor, or pencils littering her desk. The bleak condition of her room betrays any semblance of personality it once had. 

“Ena… Did you really throw all your supplies out?” He asks, voice so uncharacteristically small it borders on a whisper.

“Yeah? Why do you care?” She spits back, looking hurt.

“Well, you never let dad get to you before, so…”

“So what ? I just… I don’t know. He was right, I guess. I can’t even handle his bullshit, so how would I ever handle the art world’s criticism? I was stupid for trying to prove him wrong, this is better for me,” she giggles, but it teeters on manic.

“I don’t think you really believe that,” he argues back, pursing his lips. “I know you want to keep making art, so you–”

“ Shut up! ” She cuts him off with a shout, stomping her foot like a toddler mid-tantrum. “You never cared enough to defend me before, so stop acting like you care if I quit or not! Get out! ”

“Ena, that’s not–”

“GET OUT!” She fumes, pushing against his chest with all her strength. Letting her take her rage out on him, Akito only falters slightly as she pounds her weak fists against him. Cautiously, he wraps his arms around her small stature, pulling her in for a hug. He quietly shushes her as her body racks with sobs, feeling the faint hits of her hands now thumping against his back. 

Eventually, her fury begins to subside, so Akito pulls back. When he looks at her face, it’s melted into a strange, defeated mask. Stiffly, he offers, “Mom brought some cheesecake home earlier… You want some?”

Ena sniffles, wiping a sleeve across her face. “No.”

Akito’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t press any further. Silently, he nods and shuffles out of her room, into his own.

Hopping onto his bed, Akito pulls his phone out from his pocket. Once again, he checks to see if Shiho’s answered his many texts, but finds no response waiting for him. Sighing, he opens his music library, thumb hovering as he scrolls to find Untitled.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he presses play. 

When he opens them again, he’s laying on cool asphalt.

“Hey, you good?” A familiar, high-pitched voice emits from above him as he feels something kick into his ribs.

“Oi, hey!” He scrambles upwards, facing his assailant. “Miku, what the hell?!”

“I should be asking you that! You’re the one that was just laying in the road!” The teal-haired girl huffs back, pouting her cheeks. “You look kinda upset, what’s wrong?” She pries.

“Eh, just some weird stuff happened today…” He brushes her off, “I’m just here to clear my head a little. Is it fine if I go walk around by myself?”

“Yeah, just make sure you don’t get lost,” Miku nods, “I don’t wanna have to hunt you down in the backroads, like a certain someone…”

Not in the mood to indulge in the Vocaloid’s antics, Akito only nods back and saunters off. As he walks down an alleyway, he retrieves his phone to send another text to Shiho. Before long, he finds himself a way’s out from where Meiko’s shop is. Still, he hears the unmistakable sound of a metal ball clanging as someone shakes a spraypaint can nearby. He follows the sound, and finds a young boy standing in front of a work-in-progress of graffiti.

With eyes bulging, Akito points out, “You’re… Len Kagamine.”

The boy whips around, eyes as equally wide, and stammers, “A– Akito! You scared me…”

“Sorry, ah… I didn’t know you were also here,” he admits, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to pop up so soon after Shiho left…”

“Wait, Shiho was here?” Akito interjects.

“Mhm, quite literally just left the SEKAI. Were you looking for her?” Len asks, lifting a mask to his face as he begins to paint on the wall before him.

“Not really, but that explains why she wasn’t responding to my texts,” he notes, “Tsk, now I just look needy…”

“I’m sure she’s glad to have someone looking out for her,” the younger boy directs a smirk at him, “Even if she’ll never admit that out loud.”

With a soft chuckle, Akito sounds his agreement. Sensing a lull in the conversation, he speaks up, “Hey, did you make all the graffiti in here? It’s some pretty impressive stuff.”

“Heh, thanks…” Len blushes, explaining, “It’s pretty much all mine. You’ll find some of Miku or Rin’s little ol’ tags or doodles here and there, but all of the big stuff is my work.”

Akito whistles in surprise, complimenting, “Damn, kid, you’re good.” Then, a sudden thought occurs to him. “Y’know, some of the stuff I saw reminded me of my sister’s art…”

Giggling, Len grins, “Oh? Is that so?”

Squinting, Akito continues, “She recently threw out all her supplies and swore off making art, but… I don’t think that’s what she really wants.”

“Hmm… That’s a shame,” his smile shifts into a frown, “I actually thought about doing the same when Meiko shooed me away from her store, but… Art is so essential to my being. I couldn’t give it up.”

“Is that why you’re all the way out here?” Akito questions, to which Len gives a dramatic nod.

“Making art that no one will see is more gratifying than making no art at all.”

With that heavy sentiment hanging in the air, Len turns back to his graffiti. For a moment, Akito just stands and observes, watching the intricacies of an artist at work. Then, he speaks back up, “Say, if I were to hold onto an object in the SEKAI, would I be able to bring it back to the real world?”

“Eh? I suppose so, but it might depend on the object…”

“...Like one of your spray paints?” 

One knock.

Then another.

An incessant banging.

Yet, Ena only stirs when the blankets are ripped from her bed.

“Oi! Get up!”

“Ugh… I’m up, I’m up! Give me my blanket back!” She groans, swatting aimlessly up towards her brother.

“Nope, ‘cus you’re not gonna leave your bed if I do,” Akito retorts, dumping them into a heap on her desk chair.

“Hey, not fair!” Ena pushes herself up, swiping her bangs out of her eyes. “It’s the weekend, anyway. Why can’t I sleep in?!”

“For one, sleeping into the afternoon isn’t good for you,” he scolds, despite being the younger sibling. “Secondly, I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? …Who are you?” She squints at him, crossing her arms.

“Shut up, I’m trying to do something nice for you! Besides, I feel like I… owe you. Or something,” He grumbles, reaching down to grab the cardboard box he had set on the floor. Presenting it to her, he shoots her a small smile. In return, she cautiously eyes him and wearily takes the box from his hand.

“Owe me for what ? Also, you couldn’t even bother to wrap it properly?” She criticizes, but opens it nonetheless. Inside, several spray paint cans rattle against each other, creating a dissonant melody. “...Akito. What?”

“I thought you could… y’know… start rebuilding your art supply collection. This being the first step…” He gestures towards the cans, gaze shooting everywhere but his sister’s face.

“Did you steal these off the street or something? I’ve never even worked with spray paint before…” Ena contends, sifting through the box on her lap.

“No, but speaking of the streets,” Akito answers with no humor, “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

As he turns to let her get ready, she suddenly tosses the box to the side and scrambles to chase after him. “What is wrong with you?! You wake me up on the weekend to give me… s–something… and then try to make me go out? Where do you even want to take me–”

Cutting off her rambling, Akito responds, “I heard this new dessert shop opened across town. We can get cheesecake.” With a hand mid-air and wide eyes, Ena suddenly sputters and stops in place.

“...Fine. But you better have no ulterior motives!”

Of course, Akito has ulterior motives. Stepping out from the subway station, an awkward air hangs between the siblings as Ena trails behind her younger brother, entrusting him to lead her in the right direction. Despite being siblings, she can’t recount the last time they spent quality time together. For some reason, she feels something tug in her chest at the thought, but shrugs it off as being due to her annoying brother clearly leading her into some shady part of town and not a wonderful dessert shop full of cheesecake.

“Akito, why do you keep turning down alleys?” Ena finally perks up, crossing her arms as she plants her feet onto the cracked cement. “There’s no dessert shop around here. What’s your damage?”

“I’m… uh…” Ena nearly falls over hearing her brother sound so uncharacteristically unsure. “I’m trying to find a spot for you to… uh…” He shakes his backpack off from his back, letting it drop to the ground with a muffled clang. Mumbling to himself, he squats down to unzip it, pouring its contents onto the floor. Numerous spray paint cans fall out, rolling towards Ena’s feet.

“What the hell?!” She yelps, catching one of the bottles with her heel before it can roll out of reach. 

“You said you’ve never worked with spray paint before, so… Here. Practice,” Akito shrugs.

“Isn’t graffiti illegal?” Ena challenges with a huff. Still, she bends down to retrieve the cans scrambled by her feet.

“Not if you don’t get caught,” he smirks back, “I’ll scout you. Just… I don’t know, do whatever you artists do.”

Ena bursts out in laughter, covering her mouth with her arm. “You’re so corny!” She snickers, but steps up to the alley’s wall. Arm shaking, she holds it out with a finger hovering over the spray paint’s nozzle. With Akito’s eyes burning into the back of her head and her own heartbeat pounding through her skull, she struggles to press down. However, a soft murmuring of encouragement soon melts into the sound of her racing heart. Taking a deep breath, Ena takes the leap.

Watching his sister at work, Akito is taken aback. Sure, he knows that she’s practiced art for nearly her whole life, but he hadn’t seen much of her art himself, and was under the impression that it was mediocre-at-best due to their father’s tirades. Yet, looking at her sketch out a basic figure with only spray paint, he can’t fathom how their dad could ever look the young artist in the eyes and tell her that she’ll never be good enough. How could someone’s own parent extinguish their child’s passion like that? Even more, he can’t bear the idea of her ever quitting. 

“Hey, what are you two doing?” A voice calls out from the end of the alley, a figure shrouded in shadow walking towards them. In shock, Ena lets out a squeak as her hand involuntarily jerks. A large orange streak cuts across her graffiti, covering the figure’s eyes. 

“You said you would cover me!” She accuses her brother in a whisper, letting the can fall out of her hand and roll away. 

“I was– Wait…” He begins to defend himself, but squints towards the person walking up to them. With a gasp, he realizes the familiar face as the sunlight finally hits it. “Shiho! Christ, you scared us.”

Shiho shrugs back, hands in her pockets. “I was walking by and thought I saw you. What’s with you and alleyways, man?”

“They make for good shortcuts!” He huffs out, crossing his arms.

Behind him, Ena makes her presence known, “You know her?”

With a nod, Akito explains, “Yeah. She’s my partner.” Ena’s eyes widen. “We’ve been doing shows together for a while now. Uh, Shiho, this is my sister, Ena,” he introduces.

Cooly, Shiho nods at Ena. “Nice to meet you. Are you a graffiti artist? This looks pretty good,” she gestures over at her now-ruined piece on the wall.

Bashfully, Ena shakes her head as her cheeks redden. “No, this was my first time doing this. That’s why it’s… y’know…”

“What?”

“Uh… Bad, I guess,” Ena looks down with a small, awkward smile. 

At this, Shiho’s face twists with distaste. “Oh, are you one of those types that acts all coy when people compliment them to get more praise?”

“Wh– Wha–!” Ena stammers back, nearly lashing out at the other girl. Immediately, Akito steps in between the two, knowing each of their tempers. 

“Alright, let’s not fight,” he cautions, holding onto his sister’s shoulder to stop her from stepping any closer to his partner.

“We’re not fighting,” Shiho responds, brow furrowing with confusion, “I just complimented her graffiti and asked a question.”

“Some way of asking a question…” Ena grumbles, but takes a deep breath to calm herself. “Thanks for the compliment, I guess.”

“Well, if you two are on good terms,” Akito proposes, uneasiness swelling in his chest, “I was actually going to ask Ena to help us out by making like, promotional art for us and stuff.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?” Ena questions, shrugging his hand off of her.

“A lot of local bands have custom-made logos and flyers for their solo gigs. Stuff like that helps a lot for getting your name out there,” he clarifies, rubbing the back of his head.

“That’s true. It’d be nice to have something like that,” Shiho chimes in.

Turning towards Ena, Akito offers, “So, you in?”

“This– This is a little sudden!” Ena falters, “I’ve never done anything like that before, so I’m not sure if you’d want me to…”

“Oh, shut it. I wouldn’t ask you to if I didn’t want you to,” her brother snarks back.

“Well, I guess that’s true. We don’t talk unless we’re asking each other to do us favors.” Even though she’s joking, Akito still frowns at the remark. Ena crosses her arms, then gives her response, “I’ll do it on three conditions. One: I get to join your full artistic process, so I can make pieces that reflect your guys’ music. Two: My friend gets to join us. And three,” she points at Akito, “You don’t complain when I send you to get me food.”

Despite Akito’s immediate denial of the third clause, Shiho speaks over him, “I’m fine with most of that, but who’s this friend of yours that you’re trying to bring on the team?”

“Yeah, I don’t want anyone that’s gonna bring us down,” Akito voices, his partner humming in agreement.

“Oh, I promise that she always gives her all when she’s on stage!” Ena affirms, a smile grazing her face as she recalls the many performances she’s seen herself. “I can text her and see if she’s around right now, if you guys wanna put her through your vetting process, or whatever you do.”

“Mmm… Sure, I’d like to meet her before agreeing to your terms,” Shiho accepts. With her confirmation, Ena pulls out her phone and starts typing. 

A few moments later, she pipes back up, “She says to meet her at this diner we hung out at the other day.”

“A diner? Can’t we meet at like… I don’t know, a park or something?” Akito groans.

“Hey, she’s going out of her way to meet with us!” Ena scolds her brother, “Besides, you owe me cheesecake!” With that, she grabs his arm, leading him away as Shiho trails behind the sibling pair.

A small time later, the trio finds themselves seated in the booths of a small family diner, a new face joining their crew. In the center of the table, a cheesecake sits, two slices cut from its body. A heavy air hangs between the four teenagers, which Shiho soon breaks.

“No.”

“What?! You didn’t even talk to her!” Ena shouts back, causing some nearby customers to shoot dirty looks in her direction.

“That is Airi Momoi,” Shiho states, “Not only is she an idol, she’s an idol who happens to be my sister’s rival. Not happening.”

“You’re Shizuku’s sister?” Airi gasps, leaning forward in her seat.

“You’re not even going to give her a chance because of some stupid idol rivalry? She’s not even an idol anymore!” Ena defends, face flushing with anger.

“‘Not an idol anymore’? What do you mean?” Shiho interrogates, crossing her arms as she scowls across the table.

“Ah… That’s not really public knowledge yet,” Airi hesitates, “But, yeah, I’m done with the whole idol thing.”

Still, Akito interjects, “I don’t think an idol is really going to fit the image we’re going for. This isn’t a good idea.”

Shiho nods, fierce gaze unwavering from the idol sitting across her. “Definitely not. We’re a street group that plays in dusty old livehouses, not cutesy idols in a theater who do variety shows for nine-year olds.”

Suddenly, Airi slams a fist against the table, causing the silverware to bounce in its wake. “This is exactly why I quit! No one takes me seriously anymore, they just want to force me into whatever box they like best for me!” She shouts, tears welling in her eyes as she spits years of repressed fury out at the pair across from her. “I’ve spent my whole life dedicating myself to being the best performer I can be, but no one wants to let me on a stage anymore! Do you even know what it’s like to be denied your passion?” She seethes, gripping onto her skirt to stop herself from lashing out any further.

The other three patrons of the table stare wordlessly back at the smoldering girl, processing her outburst with unmatched shock crossing each of their faces. Softly, Ena reaches out to hold her friend’s hand under the table, murmuring reassurances to her quietly enough for no one else to hear. Silent tears pour down Airi’s face, blood threatening to leak as she bites down on her lip. 

“Hey,” Akito finally speaks up, breaking the stringent tension, “Y’know what? You have the same drive, the same passion for music as us,” he reasons. Caught off guard, Airi sucks in a deep breath as she looks up to meet his eyes. “If you think you can match our energy, then you can join us.”

She exhales, freeing her skirt from her unrelenting grip. “Okay. I’ll try my best.”

As Ena celebrates the acceptance, Shiho bristles at Akito’s side.

After a commemorative meal of cheesecake and sugary drinks in honor of the team’s formation, the four teenagers find themselves walking down an alley at Akito’s insistence. “It’s a shortcut back to the main roads!” He claimed, yet the others are almost certain it would have been quicker to just take the normal route.

As Ena and Airi giggle at a cat video playing on one of their phones, Shiho lumbers at Akito’s side. However, a new voice suddenly joins the fray, causing the original partners to whip around at the source of the sound.

“Woah, the team’s grown so much since the last time I checked in!” Miku giggles, standing atop of Ena’s phone.

“What the f–” Ena starts, but Akito cuts her off with a curse of his own.

“Shit, Miku! You can’t just jump out whenever, people will see you!” He reprimands the Vocaloid.

“Heh, it’s fine!” She beams, “These two are a part of the SEKAI, after all, and no one else is around.”

“Well, that explains why she’s coming from Ena’s phone this time…” Shiho mumbles to herself.

“Wait, isn’t the SEKAI supposed to be made from our ‘shared feelings’ or whatever? Does that mean…” Akito trails off, looking between the frightened girls with wide eyes.

“Yep, great choice in teammates, you two!” Miku lauds with clapping hands.

“Hold on, what is going on?!” Airi interrupts, voice raising, “What the hell is a ‘SEKAI’? Why is Hatsune Miku speaking to us from Ena’s phone?!”

“A SEKAI is a place born from a group’s shared feelings!” Miku explains, then teases, “Geez Airi, keep up. Akito already said this!”

“Um… Where is it, then?” Ena asks, voice small.

“Play the untitled song on your phone to get in, pause it to get out, blah, blah blah…” Miku groans, “It’s so tiring to explain this over and over again, you know!”

“I assume you came out to show Ena and Airi the SEKAI, then?” Akito speculates, crossing his arms.

“Fufu, you know me so well~!” Miku lilts. “I’ll see you there!” As fast as it appeared, her figure vanishes from the phone’s surface.

With a sigh, Akito moves to fish his own phone out from his pocket. As he begins to search for Untitled, Ena’s voice wavers out, “Um… So are you guys being serious right now?”

“This would be a weirdly elaborate prank,” he posits, his thumb hovering over the track, “Get ready…” Without listening to the other girls’ stammering, he presses down, watching as the world suddenly shifts and flashes around him. As their surroundings settle back into sight, the group of four are standing in the middle of a street.

The first thing Akito sees is Miku skipping over to them, Len dragging his feet behind her. Bouncing up to the group, the teal-haired Vocaloid throws her arms around the two newcomers, pulling them in for a hug. “Uu~ It’s so nice to finally meet you two!” She cheers, squishing them. 

“Agh–! You’re crushing me!” Airi pushes back, freeing the both of them from Miku’s grasp. 

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just so exciting to have the full group here for once!”

“Is this some weird dream…?” Ena whispers to herself, rubbing her hands together.

“Nope! Why does everyone always think that?” Miku responds, placing her hands on her hips.

“I mean, the whole ‘other world’ thing is kinda weird for most people…” Len mumbles, tapping his foot against the turf.

“Don’t you gang up on me too!” Miku huffs, turning on her heel, “C’mon, let’s go introduce the newbies to Meiko and Rin.”

Speaking up, Shiho directs her voice to Len, “I thought you were banned from Meiko’s shop. Why are you here?”

He explains with a sigh, “Miku dragged me out here to meet these two,” he points to Ena and Airi.

“Hurry up, slowpokes!” The Vocaloid in question shouts out, bell ringing as she shoves the door of the designer store open. The group she left behind shuffles after her, soon situating themselves amongst the different seats in the shop’s lounge. 

“Great, more distractions…” Rin whines from behind the counter, rolling packing tape over a large cardboard box.

“Fufu, surely you can take a break to greet our new guests,” Meiko suddenly appears from the backroom, stirring a cup of tea in her hand. 

“Is that your way of saying I can take my lunch break now?” Rin squints, but trails behind her boss to meet the sextet in the lounge.

“Welcome, everyone! Feel free to make yourselves at home,” Meiko gushes, gesturing out towards the space before them. “Well, most of you,” she points a tight grin towards Len. 

He doesn’t respond, making a point to dramatically turn his head away from the older woman. With the rising tension, Miku throws both of her hands out with a yelp, “Can we at least pretend to be a happy little family when our guests are around?!”

“Meiko’s the one that started it!” Len spits back, balling his fists. 

“I only asked him to remove his graffiti from the immediate area, which I feel is a fair request as the storeowner,” Meiko retorts.

Exhaling a deep breath, Miku shakes her head towards the ground in defeat. “I guess I should’ve seen this coming…” Quickly, utters out, “Airi and Ena meet Meiko, Rin, and Len. Meiko, Rin, and Len, meet Airi and Ena,” she points to each individual as she introduces them. “Alright, you four, out!”

“Wh– We just got here!” Airi argues back, “Ena and I didn’t get to look around the place!”

“Come back on your own time! We’ve got some issues here, now shoo!” Despite some brief shouts of protest, the four teenagers are eventually wrangled back into the real world.

“Akito…” Ena warbles out once they’ve returned, “How long have you… y’know, had that place…?”

“It’s a recent development.”

“Ah, I see…”

Then, Shiho chimes in. “I should head home now. My sister’s gonna be heading home from her new gig soon, and if I’m not home before she is she’ll start freaking out and assume I’ve died or something,” she explains. Without waiting for anyone’s goodbyes, she turns away from the group and starts walking.

“Guess we should all head home, then, huh?” Airi notes. The siblings voice out their agreements, and the group disperses for the day.

“Sorry for coming in late,” Akito calls out, striding into the practice room the next day. “This one was giving me a hard time about getting up before noon,” he mutters as he points to Ena, shuffling in behind him.

“Hey! You don’t need to tell them that!” Ena whines back, looking to their partners already situated in the space. In one corner, Airi sits balancing on a rickety stool, scrolling through her phone. In the adjacent corner, Shiho straddles her bass as she fidgets with its tuning. Both of the siblings immediately sense that they’ve stepped into a tense air, but Shiho cuts through it as soon as they stop bickering.

“I spent a lot of time thinking last night,” she states plainly, looking around at the group, “About our new arrangement as a team. I’m still not one-hundred percent on board with this…”

“If you’re just going to pester Airi again–” Ena starts, but is cut off by Shiho.

“Let me finish. I’m not one-hundred percent on board with this, but I’m willing to let both of you prove yourselves to me.”

“Hmm? How, then? What’s ‘good enough’ for you?” Airi questions, voice wavering between sincerity and sarcasm.

“If I’m going to be partners with anyone, I need partners that match my level. When I was mulling everything over last night, I came to the conclusion that I can trust Airi to at least hold a good performance due to her idol background. You, however,” she levels a finger at Ena, “Say you want to be involved in our whole process, but don’t have any experience with music.”

“Eh? Yeah, I thought I was just gonna be making art for you guys…”

“That’s not gonna cut it. You recruited your friend to our group, you’re gonna make music with us.”

“Wait, that’s not fair!” Ena argues back, crossing her arms as her face flushes over. “I didn’t sign up for this. Aren’t you the one that keeps going on about how you need partners on your own level? Clearly, I’m not! It’s not like Akito wants his sister in his little street group, either,” she lists off every excuse that comes to mind.

“Oi, leave me out of this…” Akito mutters back.

“Actually, I’d say Ena might be a good fit for the group,” Airi perks up, jumping onto her feet. “I’ve heard her sing plenty of times since we’ve met, and she’s actually better than some of the trainee idols my agency’s picked up,” she praises with a smirk.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, idiot!” Ena snaps back.

“But I do mean it!” Airi retorts. “I don’t lie so easily, you know! Besides, it’s like Shiho said– you recruited me to their group, and now you’re just gonna throw me to the wolves and leave?” She huffs, but with such a dramatic flair that her feint is obvious.

“Are we the wolves?” Shiho mumbles to herself, brow furrowing.

“Hey, knock it off before you start actually arguing,” Akito interjects, stepping towards the center of the room. “How about Ena joins us for practice today, and we can all make a decision about her role in the group afterwards. Okay?”

“I’m fine with that,” Shiho nods, then directs her voice towards Ena, “Are you?”

Before responding, she takes a moment to stew in her anger and embarrassment. Then, with a sigh, she gives in. “Fine, if it’ll get you two off my back…”

With his sister’s confirmation, Akito takes the reins over the meeting and starts directing the others around. As Shiho finishes tuning her bass, Airi and Akito begin some basic vocal warm-ups, Ena hovering awkwardly next to them.

“If you don’t join us, I’m gonna make you sing by yourself once Shiho’s ready,” Akito scolds her, shooting her a pointed look.

“You– You wouldn’t!” She stammers back, lightly punching him on the arm. Still, not wanting to take any chances, Ena reluctantly steps forward to complete their circle.

Once her voice chimes in, mixing with the duo’s, Akito’s stricken with a similar feeling to how it was watching her paint in the alleyway. The fascination of seeing a genius at work, but this time it wasn’t the culmination of years of labor and perseverance engaged– it was natural talent. Even with her weak, gauche tone, she holds an unadulterated presence, a honeyed sound slipping through her lips. Akito’s own voice falters at her brightness, a hint of familiarity tracing his thoughts. A pang shoots through his chest– Is this pride? Or…

Suddenly, Airi halts her singing, jabbing an elbow into Akito’s side. “See, I told you she’s good!” She gloats in Ena’s place. Looking over her head, Akito sees Shiho observing them from the corner, an unusually surprised expression painting her face.

“Hey, don’t just stop like that!” Ena chides, placing her hands on her hips. Looking between her fellow teammates, she huffs to herself when they only return her irritation with dumbfounded blinks. “Seriously, what’s gotten into you all today? I feel like I’m missing out on some inside joke…”

“Ena, do you really have no vocal training?” Shiho asks, balancing as she stands up from the floor.

“No…?”

The first-year hesitates, fidgeting with the bass in her hands for a moment as she oscillates between expressions. Finally, she looks up to Ena with a small, but sincere, smile.

“I’d really like to work with you.”

The rest of practice is spent with Airi gushing over Ena’s new found talent, Akito attempting to reel both girls back enough to pay attention to his notes, and Shiho reprimanding Akito for spending too much time dealing with the two instead of working on himself. Still, they’re able to make more progress than any of them had expected, and start to find their groove as a group. However, their time together is cut short when Airi receives a call from her former manager.

Which is how she finds herself back at the agency’s headquarters, sifting through boxes on her old dressing room’s floor. The cool tile stings against her thighs as glitter sticks to her hands, and she silently mourns the fact that she’ll be finding it all over herself for the next month. Still, she discards the accursed skirt into the pile on her left.

Then, she pulls out a lace top. Damn, I wish this was mine. Left pile.

A puffy tutu covered in cheap satin. Ew, no. Left pile.

A cream-colored sweater, fuzzy to the touch. I mean, it’s definitely not mine but… It’s not like they’re gonna miss it. Right pile.

In her sorting trance, she nearly misses the person peeking through the crack she left in the door and calling out to her. “Airi, is that you?”

“Huh?” She mumbles on instinct, but snaps back to her senses when she registers who’s staring at her. “Oh, hey Yuko! What’s up?”

Ignoring her pleasantries, the girl interrogates, “What are you doing here?”

Taken aback by her unusual firmness, Airi stammers back, “Uh… I was called in to, um, sort through my old costumes and take back anything I brought myself…”

“Is that so?” Yuko crosses her arms, clearly displeased with her explanation. “You know, we’re all really disappointed in you. They gave you the offer of a lifetime and not only did you turn it down, you quit entirely! Who even does that? You had such a promising career in television, and yet… Here you are,” she laments, causing Airi to freeze in place.

“Yuko…” She breathes out, staring up at her former co-worker. She’s the youngest member of the group, not even out of junior high yet, and Airi liked to consider her as a younger sibling, in some ways. She always admired how could smile so brightly, even off-stage, during their private moments. Yet, Airi recoils at the unnatural, pure spite glowering down at her. “My hands were tied. If I had taken it, I would’ve been forced to leave you guys behind. If I refused the TV spot, they would’ve forced me to graduate anyway,” she explains, trying to keep her voice low and calm so as to not upset the younger girl any further.

“So?! I would’ve taken the offer in a heartbeat, even if it meant leaving QT!” She spits back, and Airi realizes there’s no winning this fight.

“That’s unfair to your teammates! I thought you would be glad that I took the high road and left of my own accord, instead of letting myself get backed into a corner by management! They were trying to pit you guys against me, so don’t let them!”

“Oh, you wanna know what’s really ‘unfair to your teammates’?” Her voice is cold, eyes dark. “Leaving them, just to throw your career in the trash.”

Airi forces her mouth into a thin line, refusing to indulge in her judgment any longer. She averts her gaze, looking back into the sparkle-filled box.

“Well, you already left us, so it doesn’t matter anyway.” Airi hears the door shut, but keeps her eyes trained on the box. 

She pulls out a bright pink, shiny mock-up of a varsity jacket. QT’s logo is on the front, her name embroidered on the back. A teardrop falls onto it. Left pile.

“Woo! Finally done!” Len cheers, wiping his brow. A bright streak of orange is left behind, making Ena giggle.

“I can’t believe we were able to design and finish this in one night,” she bubbles, stepping back to observe their work. Facing Meiko’s shop, an icon created from a myriad of vivid colors and shapes covers the formerly desolate wall. Of course, it’s not the greatest work of art ever, but with Len’s guidance, she was able to create something she’s at least proud of.

“Oh, oh! I’ll go get the others to come to the SEKAI! Stay right here,” Len gushes, running off before Ena can form a response. Despite their short time together, the two already formed a close friendship, bonding over their shared love for art. So, she heeds his plea, taking the time while waiting for his return to look over the finished piece.

The contrast between both the complementary colors and the neons and black creates a bold image that stands out, which is good for a logo. Still, it might be too busy, if we have to size it down for promotional materials. Perhaps I should work on an alternate version for those cases? But would that–

“Woah,” a voice breathes out from behind her, startling her from her inner critique. She turns around, meeting Akito’s awe-struck face. Behind him, Airi and Shiho shuffle forward, both staring up at the graffiti with wide eyes. “Is this our logo? You really outdid yourself.”

“ Eeeeeena~ !” Airi beams, bounding up to envelope her friend in a hug, “You’re so, so, so amazing!”

“Ah, thank you, but I can’t take all of the credit,” she asserts back, looking over her shoulder at the younger boy racing over to the group. “Len was a major help, since I’m not that used to using spray paints yet.”

“Heheh, it’s no biggie…” He blushes back, rubbing the back of his head.

Suddenly, a new voice sounds out, breaking through the merry mood with its rigid tone, “I see that you’ve come back to put more graffiti outside of my store.” Turning around, the group turns to meet Meiko’s imposing form sauntering over, heels clicking against the tarmac.

“H- Hey, if you’re just gonna tell me to wash it off, then–” Len starts to argue, but Meiko holds a hand up to silence him.

“No, I was actually coming over to compliment your work,” she divulges, a warm smile peering down at the boy. 

“Wh– Wh–”

“I saw you two start painting from the window of my shop, and was going to chase you off, but then I saw how you were working,” she explains, a hand hovering by her chin, “I was reminded of my own process in designing clothes. Clearly, you hold a lot of reverence and care towards your craft. So, I’ll admit that I was in the wrong. There’s a lot of beauty to be seen in your graffiti, even if it’s not personally pleasing to me.”

Len, stunned into silence, just stares with a gaping mouth at the older woman. Then, Miku skips out from Meiko’s shop, humming to herself. “So, you guys finally made up! Isn’t reconciliation such a beautiful thing?” She rejoices, winking at the four teenagers. At Akito’s side, Shiho shuffles awkwardly.

“I guess that means it’s a perfect time to start the party!” Ena giggles, clasping her hands over her chest.

“Huh? Party?” Akito echoes, furrowing his brow.

“Fufu, Ena asked me to set out some treats she brought here while she and Len worked on your logo!” Miku explains, “So that you could all have a celebratory debut party!”

“I thought it would be nice…” The brown-haired girl mumbles bashfully, swaying as she blushes down at the ground.

“That’s so sweet, Ena!” Airi exclaims, already making her way towards the store. Quickly, the others follow her lead.

At the lounge, an assortment of chips, candies, and desserts are laid out on the center coffee table. Rin sits on the main couch, having taken an entire bowl of chips for herself. Without a word, Len shuffles over and takes a seat next to her. His knee brushes hers, and he nods at her with a soft, toothless grin. She digs into the bowl on her lap, and offers him a chip.

“Wow, Ena. You finally got me cheesecake instead of me getting it for you,” Akito teases, cutting into the dessert before finding a seat.

“Yeah, so don’t complain the next time I ask you to get me some!” She heckles back, making Airi chuckle behind her. Shiho cups a hand over her mouth, concealing her smile.

“Alright, let’s dig in!” Miku squeals, clapping her hands together. Immediately, she shoves her hand into a bowl of chocolates. For the rest of the night, the store’s lounge is filled with warmth and laughter.

Chapter Text

I wanted to see my sister smile. Saki missed school a lot because of her poor health so I was always thinking of ways to cheer her up. But there was little I could do at that tender age. But there was little I could do at that tender age. One day, our parents took us to a show. I’ll never forget what happened that day.

It was our first time seeing a real show, in a real theater. The set was grand, and the actors captivating, but I had become fixated on Saki’s smile. It was a rare sight in those days, so I wanted to keep it in my sights for as long as I could. She turned to me, and said that she never wanted the show to end. Her smile faltered with the admission. In that moment, I found my resolve.

“This day… is finally upon us,” Tsukasa chatters to himself, meticulously fixing his hair in the mirror. “Clear skies and great weather… Even the heavens are celebrating my debut into stardom!” He lets out a hearty laugh, boasting, “At this rate, they’ll take one look at me during the audition and immediately accept my application!”

Suddenly, the door swings up, a pigtail-ed head peering out from behind. The sudden intrusion startles the future star, causing him to stumble back and misplacing the strand of hair he had just fixed. Tsk.

“Tsukasa! Mom said to keep it down,” Saki urges, stepping into the room.

“Oh, Saki!” Tsukasa greets, staring at her reflection in the mirror. He moves to rectify his astray hair, continuing, “Keep it down? I’m just… ah… warming up my vocal cords!”

“Is that so?” His sister muses, devoid of any speculation or mockery. “You’re going in for an interview for that new part-time job today, right? I hope it goes well!” She cheers.

“Not an interview, an audition !” He corrects, turning to face the real Saki. “It sounds cooler that way.”

She giggles back, “That’s what you’re concerned about?”

Changing the subject, Tsukasa probes, “By the way… How have you been, with going back to school, Saki? You only just got better, so don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to worry about me!” She beams, “I’m gonna live my high school life to the fullest to make up for lost time!” A bright smile crosses her face, and something pangs in Tsukasa’s chest at the sight.

Hm? Ah… Maybe I really am nervous about this audition? Heh, how unbefitting of a star…

Shaking the sensation away, he responds in earnest, “I’m glad to hear that.”

“And I’m glad that you’re one step closer to achieving your dream of becoming a star!” Saki gushes, tackling her older brother into a hug. She ignores his cries of surprise, only pulling away to ask, “You’ve always wanted that, right? Actually… When did you start dreaming of becoming a star, anyway? You’ve always talked about it for as long as I can remember, so…”

“Why did I want to become a star?” He echoes, raising a hand to his chin in consideration. “Well, that’s because… Ah…” His sister looks on in anticipation, brow furrowing as he continues to stammer in thought. “...Why indeed, actually?” He finally settles on.

“What?! You don’t remember yourself?” Saki squeaks back, concern taking over her face.

“I– I’m just having a temporary lapse of memory!” Tsukasa argues back in an attempt to quell her worries. After all, she has so much more to worry about… Come on, Tsukasa, think…

“Ah– That’s right!” He shouts out, causing Saki to jump at the sudden noise. “Because it would be such a terrible tragedy to let my awesome stage talent go to waste!”

Surely, that’s why! What else would it be…?

At his typical boasting, Saki’s tenseness melts away. With a small laugh, she responds, “Heh, when you put it that way, I can’t help but think that has to be it! It’s like you were born for this!”

“Y-You understand me!” He stutters out, as if didn’t even understand himself. “And that’s why this audition I’m going for is as good as passed! And then I’ll become the biggest and brightest star ever!” He gloats, losing himself in the act. However, he’s startled back to his senses when a white flash emits over from his desk.

“Hm? Did my phone just light up?”

“Did it? Was it an alarm you set, since you should be heading out soon anyway?” Saki ponders. “Well, I’ll be off, then. Good luck out there!” She bubbles, waving as she bounces out of his bedroom.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Tsukasa moves to check his phone. Grabbing the device off of his desk, he’s struck by the absence of any notifications awaiting him. 

“Hm, weird…” He mutters to himself, still mulling over the previous conversation, “Seriously, though… Why did I want to become a star, anyway? I feel like I’m forgetting something really important here…”

Tsukasa’s music library greets him as soon as he swipes his phone open, but a noticeable difference stares back at him. “Right, I was going to do some vocal warm-ups, but… What’s ‘Untitled’?” Curious, he clicks on the mysterious track. However, as soon as he does, the same white light from before surrounds him, masking every sight around him.

When the whiteness finally dissipates, Tsukasa finds himself very much not inside the safety of his bedroom but very much in front of a large, gaudy stage, brimming with bright lights. Scanning over his new whereabouts, he asks himself, “Huh? Is this… a stage?” Then, he pats his cheeks to regain his senses. “I was in my room, but when I played that song, I… Okay, so this is a dream or something, right?” He posits, nodding to himself. 

Still, his moment of discernment is short-lived, as he immediately becomes distracted by his new surroundings. What strange props, I wonder what type of show they’re putting on? Also, why does this stage feel so… nostalgic?

“Good morning, Tsukasa!” A shrill voice pipes up, frightening the boy out his meandering train of thought. 

“Wha–?! Who–?!”

“I’m Miku!” The newcomer chimes, seemingly oblivious to Tsukasa’s predicament.

“Miku? As in Hatsune Miku?” He asks, looking the girl over. She’s clad in a puffy dress, intricately crafted with frills and tulle, although its mismatch of vibrant colors betrays the maturity of its design. Cat ears protrude from the top of her blue pigtails, which Tsukasa can’t make out as real or fake no matter how much he squints at them. “Well, I guess you do have the look…” He mutters.

“Now, don’t forget about me!” A new, much deeper voice speaks up. From behind Miku, a new figure steps out. A man, dressed from head-to-toe in blue with an outfit resembling something Tsukasa’s sworn he’s drawn in one of his notebooks during class, steps out to greet him. “Welcome!”

“Whoa, Miku and Kaito at the same time? Surely, this can only mean one thing,” Tsukasa puzzles, “I’m having the strangest dream ever! Even stranger, though, is… When did I even fall asleep?”

“This is your SEKAI, Tsukasa!” Miku imparts, her cheery demeanor unfaltering at his accusations. 

“Huh? SEKAI?”

“Yes, this SEKAI is a world that was born from your feelings,” Kaito explains.

“Born… from… my feelings? Wh– What’s that supposed to even mean?” Tsukasa lilts, trying to make sense of the ludicrous information. “How absurd! And even if that was true, why would you two be here?” 

“Miku and I are here because we want to help you find your true feelings,” Kaito affirms, raising a hand over his chest. 

“Huuuh?” He argues back, “I know my true feelings! My true feelings have always been to become the world’s top star!

At this, Miku’s buoyancy finally wavers. “Yes, that’s part of it, but…” She trails off.

Kaito picks up for her, “Do you remember what made you want to become a star to begin with, Tsukasa?”

Why does everyone keep asking me this all of the sudden? “Ah, well what made me… That’s because…” He hesitates, trying to recall a reason through his hazy memory, “When I become the world’s top star, I’ll be able to use my talent to put on the world’s greatest show!”

“Mhm! And then?” Miku hints, regaining her energy.

“And then, when people come see my show…”

“And what about them?” She gives him an encouraging smile.

“All eyes will be drawn to the brightest star– me! Once they see me, they’ll cry tears of joy!” He boasts, giving in to the fantasy.

“Uuu… I knew it, he’s forgotten completely…” Miku deflates, turning to deflect her small frown to the man beside her.

“Poor Tsukasa…” He agrees with a similar frown.

Overwhelmed, the boy in question sputters out, “Wh– What is it? What have I done to deserve those pitiful stares?!”

“Sorry… But I really hope you find your true feelings again, no matter how long it may take,” Kaito apologizes, giving him a small, tight smile. “If you ever find this SEKAI somewhat nostalgic, then hold onto those feelings.”

“Nostalgic? Why would I…” Tsukasa stops himself, looking out towards the stage before him. Why does it…?

Suddenly, Miku perks up, bringing his attention back to the conversation. “Come with everyone else next time, Tsukasa! Let’s all perform in a show together~! I’m sure everyone else shares your feelings, as well!”

“Who is this ‘everyone else’ you speak of? Are you purposefully trying to confuse me?!” He barks, scowling down at the peppy girl.

“Don’t worry!” Kaito interjects, halting the brewing argument. “As long as you want to find your true feelings, I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.” He lays a gentle hand on Tsukasa’s shoulder.

“Ah, farewell for now, then, Tsukasa~!” Miku lilts as she waves the boy off, a white flash cutting across his vision as she does. 

“Wait– We’ll meet again?! What– What does that–” Tsukasa shouts out question after question, but finds himself enveloped in pure white glow once more. Shutting his eyes to protect himself from the blinding light, he comes back to in his bedroom.

“H– Huh? What a strange dream,” he mutters to himself, regaining his bearings, “But, when did I fall asleep…?”

As he racks his seemingly troublesome memory for any answers, he’s brought back to reality by his door cracking open once more.

“Tsukasa, you’re still here?” Saki peeks her head in, tied-up hair dangling to the side. “You’re going to be late for your interview if you don’t leave soon!” She frets.

“I know, I know! Also, it’s not an interview, it’s an audition!” He corrects, rushing to collect his belongings.

“Same difference!” She teases back. “Just hurry up before you’re late!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” He repeats, ushering her out of the room as he hurries on his way.

Tsukasa rushes into the building, covered in sweat and once-perfect hair now swept every which way. Not only did he have to run to make up for the time he lost after falling asleep mid-preparation, but he also had to sprint halfway across the amusement park after arriving at the wrong location for his audition. He quickly utters out an apology to the receptionist, hurrying over to the correct room before he can hear her mutter out a confused acceptance. A small group of applicants are huddled in the hallway, but Tsukasa barely catches his breath before he's ushered into the audition room beside them.

“Alright, thank you all for applying to work at Phoenix Wonderland,” the interviewee greets, bowing to the line of people. “First, we’ll begin with brief introductions, starting from the right side.” The woman gestures over to the end of the line, where a young man steps forward and begins to speak.

Watching him, Tsukasa’s nearly taken aback by how unstarlike the man is. He stands with a slight hunch, as if he’s trying to cover himself from the world, aimlessly fidgeting with his hands as he stands before them all. Seeing this, he takes the moment to size up the rest of his competition. A teenage girl who couldn’t be any older than him who looks like she’s holding back tears, an older woman who’s yawning into her hand when Tsukasa looks over, another boy who carries himself in a typical, bland manner…

Yes, I’ve surely got this in the bag! Tsukasa hums to himself, pleased despite not even having introduced himself yet. Then I’ll finally be able to… Uh…

Um…

I’ll be able to…

“Next applicant,” the interviewee calls out, pen pointing straight at Tsukasa. When he looks up, it’s akin to staring down the barrel of a gun. 

Right, pass the audition first! First impressions are everything, so…

“My first name is written with the character for ruling, and second with the characters for pegasus! I am Tsukasa Tenma, the soaring pegasus born to rule the world of shows!” He rejoices, boisterous voice resounding through the very foundation of the building. The line of applicants all turn to look at him with horrified expressions as the interviewee recoils in shock.

Nailed it.

“Allow me to take my first steps to stardom on one of your stages, and I shall repay you with a plethora of wonderful shows that every crowd will fall in love with!” He finishes with his signature laugh, staring up at the interviewee with an undoubting smirk.

However, the woman in charge of his fate does not reciprocate his swelling pride. “Ah… Are you applying to work on our stages? I’m sorry to say, but Phoenix Wonderland is actually phasing out shows during the upcoming year. All of our stages will be torn down, so we are no longer bringing on any more members to work on our shows,” she explains, an awkward but apologetic frown gracing her face.

Tsukasa’s world ends. If he could will himself to turn invisible, or magically open the ground below him and let himself fall to the Earth’s core, he would surely take the chance in a heartbeat. 

“WH– WHAT?!” He blubbers, trying to ignore the eyes of pity and annoyance staring at him from every direction. “What do you mean, ‘phasing out’ the shows? You can’t just get rid of them, they’re a vital part of the park– no, of life!” He chuckles nervously. Surely, this is a test of strength, right? The show business is not an easy one, so they’re seeing how he deals under pressure–

“Our shows have not been lucrative for a long time now. Most of our customers prefer our rides and games, so we have made the decision to pour our resources into bettering those experiences instead of continuing to fund shows that result in no profit,” the woman shrugs, ignoring Tsukasa’s outburst. “I can still offer you an interview for any of our concession or operation positions, however!” She smiles, but it has no warmth or real meaning behind it. This, Tsukasa can tell. 

In front of a mirror wall, a short girl ties her hair up with a purple band. She flicks her head from side-to-side, checking how the jet-black ponytail bounces along. Displeased, she rips her hair down as she scrunches her face up.

“Hey, did you hear?” A small voice perks up from her side, which she pays no mind at first.

“About Shizuku? Yeah, I’m pissed,” another voice responds, scoffing. 

The girl pauses, hands raised in the hair to restyle her hair. “Huh? What’s going on?” She turns to her fellow idols, eyes wide with confusion.

“Shizuku booked another modeling gig, and this time they’re doing a whole spread on her with an interview and everything. They’re taking her out of our first round of shows because of it, so we have to re-block half of our numbers now.”

“Seriously?! Why is she the only one booking these types of gigs, anyway? She’s the worst out of all of us, yet we have to pick up the slack!” The girl responds with a huff, foregoing her attempts to tie up her hair.

“She’s supposed to be our leader, and yet…” The quiet girl mumbles, fidgeting with her braids.

“I suppose a pretty face is all they care about. Hmph.”

“You’re right. If they actually cared about talent, Arisa would be our leader, not Shizuku.”

Although muffled, the unmistakable clicking of heels resounds from the hallway outside of the practice room. Unbeknownst to the others, a certain blue-haired girl trudges away, a bag full of sweets tucked under her arm.

Familiar sights and sounds flood Shizuku’s senses as she ambles down the streets of Miyamasuzaka. A new mannequin sporting a flowy, cotton dress sits in the window of a boutique she frequents, and she considers stopping in for a moment, until–

“I can’t believe that I, the future star Tsukasa Tenma, faced such an incredulous–”

“Oh, is that you, Tsukasa?” Shizuku calls over to the red-faced boy, muttering to himself with increasingly dramatic intonation. 

“Wha– Shizuku! Long time, no see! How have you been?” He greets, as loud as ever. Shizuku giggles, heart warming at his unchanging spirit.

“Oh, I’m–”

“If they actually cared about talent, Arisa would be our leader, not Shizuku.”

“I’m good! How are you, though? You look a little upset about something…” She observes with a small frown.

“Ah, is it that obvious?” He asks in return, seemingly oblivious to his previous utterings. “You see, I just got back from an audition at Phoenix Wonderland, but instead of acing it as expected and being graciously accepted into their theater troupes, I learned that they’re downsizing their shows over the next year, and eventually getting rid of them completely! All of the stages will be torn down! What insanity!”

“Oh no!” Shizuku gasps, a hand flying up to cover her gaping mouth. “That’s such a shame, Shii and I used to go to those shows all the time! I wish I could help, somehow…”

“Don’t fret, dear Shizuku! I’ve already begun devising a scheme to save the Phoenix Wonderland stages!” Tsukasa beams, pointing a proud thumb to his puffing chest. 

“Oh? What is it?” She asks, genuine intrigue shining through her eyes.

“I’m going to put on the best show anyone has ever seen and make everyone in the audience fall in love with me and my shows so they’ll always come back to the stages and Phoenix Wonderland will be forced to keep putting on more shows!” 

He strikes a pose.

Shizuki blinks back owlishly.

“Ah… That sounds wonderful, Tsukasa, but I can’t help but notice one flaw…”

“Hm? What could I have possibly overlooked?”

“Well,” She shuffles, bracing herself for the boy’s eventual outburst. “How will you put on that show, if you didn’t pass the audition…?”

“...”

“Tsukasa?”

“ SHIZUKUUUU~ WHAT DO WE DO?! ” He throws himself into her arms, entering the early stages of hyperventilation. Immediately, she pulls him closer, sisterly instincts kicking into drive as she rubs his back. She falters slightly, unsure of how to respond to his cries for help. 

People keep looking to me for leadership, but… I don’t know how to… 

Still…

As Tsukasa pulls back from her, continuing to wail about his futile plan, she feels a sense of altruism sweep over her.

I said “I wish I could help,” so why don’t I…? Why don’t I step up? Why don’t I do something to help for once? 

“Tsukasa, I might have a plan myself,” she interjects through his babbling. 

“HUH? What is it?!”
“Ah, you see, I’ve actually been instated as the leader of my idol group,” she explains, a fragile smile tugging at her lips, “I just had the thought that I might be able to ask our manager to let us become ambassadors for Phoenix Wonderland’s stages, it might be enough to save them…” She looks down, embarrassed to even suggest using her fame as a ploy, but Tsukasa’s excessively joyous response melts her concerns right away.

“ SHIZUKU! You’re a genius! Just as expected, for the dear, fearless leader of a nationally-beloved idol group! Hahaha!” He effuses, pulling her in for another overbearing hug. She bristles, but accepts the display of affection. Though, she realizes his compliment is misguided. After all, that same nationally-beloved idol group loathes its dear, fearless leader, who has only hindered their careers ever since she joined them.

She clutches the bag of chocolates dangling on her wrist. 

“Oh, you’re back already! How did it go?” Saki asks, bouncing over to greet her older brother as he slips his shoes off at the door. However, she recoils when he looks up with an unfamiliar, downtrodden shadow over his eyes.

“They’re demolishing the stages at Phoenix Wonderland over the next year,” he replies flatly.

“H– Huh?! Doesn’t that mean there– there’s going to be no more shows?” She squeaks out, resembling the same panicked outburst her brother had earlier on the street.

“Yes, but–!” He motions frantically for Saki to calm down, worrying that her growing alarm would cause a setback in her health. “I ran into Shizuku on my way home, and she said she would try to get her idol group involved to save the shows! Isn’t that wonderful?” He explains, smiling down as he pats his younger sister on the head. Teasingly, she swats his hand away.

“Oh, that is great!” She affirms, clasping her hands together. “I have so many fond memories from before my long hospital stay, watching the shows there with my friends! It was always nice to catch a show for a break when Ichika and I couldn’t take any more thrill rides… Actually, there was this one stage in the corner of the park, where there was a lot of shade but rarely any crowds. It kinda felt like a private little performance, just for us, whenever we went to the shows there,” Saki reminisces, subconsciously smiling as her memories crawl back to the forefront of her mind. She giggles softly, but then turns to poke Tsukasa with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Say, why are you so focused on the PhoeniLand stages? Couldn’t you just audition at another place, Mr. Future Star? ”

“Ah, well that’s–! Um… That’s because–!” The cogs in his brain grind to a stop, faced with another blank memory bank. “Hey, why are you so focused on questioning me about this type of stuff today?!” He contends, stomping a foot down. Saki stifles a giggle at his dramatics, bringing a hand over her mouth.

“I’m just curious! I remember hanging with Ichi and the others there a lot, but you couldn’t always come since you had piano recitals and whatnot. I guess I’m just wondering why you’re aiming so hard to perform on a PhoeniLand stage…?” She explains bashfully, rubbing her elbow.

“Hahaha! Don’t you know, Saki? Many of the world’s most famous actors began their journeys to stardom on amusement park stages, even at Phoenix Wonderland itself! I’m only following in their footsteps, paving my own way to becoming a star!”

Looking up at her brother, Saki watches him move his hands to his hips to strike a triumphant pose. Still, she can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the dissonance between his hesitant response and confident demeanor. 

“Is that so? Well, I’m glad that you have someone else looking to save the stages!” Before she can finish her full thought, her phone suddenly starts ringing from the counter. Immediately, she starts rushing away to silence it. “Ah–! Sorry, I’m supposed to meet with my homeroom teacher before I start school officially!” Frantically, she swipes her bag off of a chair, dashing towards the door. Hand on the doorknob, she turns to beam at her older brother, “Good luck, Tsukasa! Keep fighting!” She raises a fist in the air with a wide smile, and shuts the door behind her. 

“Keep fighting…?” He echoes with a grumble, furrowing his brow. Something in his chest pangs again. Clutching up at the sensation, he resolves, “Mm… I should lay down…”

“Keep fighting,” the king shouts out, thrusting his sword out towards the audience, “for tomorrow, the whole kingdom will smile again!” The broad-shouldered man strikes a gallant pose, puffing his chest out with a cheesy grin painting his face. As he moves, a spotlight catches the gleam of his gold-accented costume, making him shine like a real star.

“Woah, Tsukasa! He’s so cool!” A small voice chirps through a whisper next to him. He feels his sleeve being tugged on, so he looks over to the source of the commotion. A young Saki, wearing a bright blue dress and curled pigtails, stares up at the stage with such an intense fervor that Tsukasa considers pinching her to snap her out of reverie for a moment. Yet, she’s smiling so, so widely, gripping the edge of her seat as she leans forward, her eyes dazzling with the reflection of the lights…

So, he can’t bring himself to break the spell. He just stares. When was the last time he had seen her so happy, smiling so brightly, anyway?

Then, the tears start to fall. They pool at the top of her cheeks, before pouring down onto her blush-stained face. Immediately, Tsukasa moves to comfort her, panicked assurances spilling from his lips. To his surprise, the younger girl pushes him away with a giggle.

“Silly, I’m crying because I’m so happy right now!” Her unfaltering smile shines through the shadow of the night surrounding them.

“You’re… so happy that you’re crying?” He whispers back, breathlessly. “How…?”

Without the full question, Saki understands his confusion. She was always so smart for her age, after all. “It all seems so magical,” she gushes, turning back to the stage. The king waves his sword through the air, and the light shines off it and hits her eyes. “I need to keep fighting, so I can get better… and always smile like this…” She slows down to a whisper, and Tsukasa realizes those words were meant for her ears alone. It breaks his heart, but the pure, glowing glee radiating off of her mends it at once. In fact, it’s infectious– he starts to smile, too, before he even registers his muscles moving. 

He spends the rest of the show watching Saki, giddy with joy, beaming in awe at every small facet of the show. Before long, the king stands back at center stage, but lacks the same grandiosity he carried throughout the play. 

“Thank you, all, for coming to the Wonder Stage! We appreciate your patronage!” He waves out to the audience, and Saki waves back with a ferocity Tsukasa didn’t know she could muster. Suddenly, a reminder from his mother crosses his mind, and looks to the watch clinging around his wrist.

“Ah, Saki, we have to go to the park’s entrance. Mom will be mad if we don’t meet her on time,” he gently prods the younger girl, motioning for her to stand up.

“But– I want to meet the king! There’s a meet-and-greet after this showing!” Saki argues, pouting.

“I’m sorry, but we’ll both get in trouble. After all, you have an appointment tomorrow morning,” he reminds her. The smile on her face finally twitches, then droops.

“Okay… I understand…”

Tsukasa wakes up to the sound of a distant fanfare. He begins to stir awake, but is knocked back to full consciousness when the soft grass tickling his face makes him sneeze. As his head knocks against the ground, a chipper voice squeals out his name in repetition.

“Tsukasa! Tsukasa! You’re finally awake!” Rubbing his head, he looks up to meet Miku smiling down at him.

“Woah– Back up! Wait, how did I get here?! I’m sure I fell asleep in my bed, my memory’s not that bad!” Tsukasa panics, “...Right?!”

“Fufu! I had a really, really important question to ask you, but you fell asleep so quickly that I didn’t have the time! Sooo… I pulled you in here so I would be sure I got the chance to ask!” She explains as gleefully as ever, ignoring the increasingly horrified look on the boy’s face.

“You– You!” He sputters out, but shakes his head to clear his raging thoughts. “What could possibly be that important to ask?!”

“Well…”

“Just spit it out!!”

“Do you remember why you want to become a star yet, Tsukasa?”

“Huh?!”

“Do you?”

“I already told you…!” He grumbles, pushing himself up to his feet to stand above the Vocaloid. “I’m going to become so great and beloved that I’ll put on the best show of all time!”

Miku’s bubbly disposition wilts with his words. “Mm… I see…” She brings a hand to her chin, tapping her foot in feigned thought. “Well, I’ll see you later, then!”

“Wha–?! That’s all you wanted to ask?!” Tsukasa shouts back, but his vision’s already warping into white light and pixels around him. By the time he’s done yelling, he’s already standing back in his bedroom. 

“Seriously, that girl…!” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“Tsukasa, can you quiet down?” His mom’s voice shouts, muffled through the walls. He gasps, covering his mouth. 

“S– Sorry!” He calls back.

Shizuku rubs her clammy hands together, squinting as she feels her sweat grind against itself, creating an unpleasant sensation. Distantly, she wonders where the incessant tapping noise resounding through her head is coming from, but finds her answer when she looks down at her bouncing leg. 

Ah, am I really this nervous? She ponders to herself with a hum. How unfit of an idol, nonetheless the group’s leader…

“Shizuku, you wanted to talk?” A familiar voice calls out to her. The idol looks up, caught off-guard even though she was the one to invite her manager over.

She clears her throat, waiting for the man to close the space between them. Then, she greets him with a polite, “Yes, good morning! Thank you very much for agreeing to meet with me.”

“It’s no problem! Why wouldn’t I hear out Cheerful*Days’ beautiful leader, heh?” He teases with a light tap against her arm, and she can’t help but recoil at the interaction. Still, she chuckles along.

“Ah, speaking of being the leader…” She trails off, rubbing her elbow. She takes a deep breath, thinking, well, here goes nothing, and continues, “I wanted to discuss an idea I had, as my first big activity as our leader.”

“Oh? Are the constant solo photoshoots not enough for you, Shizuku?” He teases once more. She doesn’t return his chuckling this time.

“I appreciate all of the opportunities I have been given so far. However, I feel that I’ve not been given the time to work as a team, as a leader, with the other girls as of recent,” she explains as diplomatically as possible, afraid that any slight unpleasantry will send her proposal down the drain. 

“Eh? Shizuku, are you really letting the rumors get to you?” He questions, voice raising. “I can assure you that none of your teammates resent you for your solo activities. In fact, they’re all incredibly happy for their leader,” he assures her, but Shizuku’s only reminded of the previous day. 

The bag of chocolates is still sitting on the kitchen table. Shiho wouldn’t take them, either.

“It’s not that, it’s just a personal feeling,” she responds, waving her hands in the air.

“Mm, I see… Well, what’s your proposal, then?”

She jumps right in, “A friend of mine recently told me that the popular amusement park, Phoenix Wonderland, is considering shutting down their show stages in the upcoming year. I thought that we might offer a sponsorship with the park, promoting their shows to save the stages as an act of help as local idols of the park’s location.” The words tumble out of her mouth, shaky as she tries to recite her script exactly. I can’t mess this up, this is for–

“Heh, are you being serious?” Her manager barks out with a boisterous laugh. “I don’t think a theme park fits your image very well. It’s not like… you , y’know?”

No, she doesn’t. 

She nods along.

“Like, what type of pretty, mysterious idol spends her time on rollercoasters and on crappy benches at the stage shows?”

She keeps nodding.

“Besides, who even goes to a theme park to watch the shows, anyway?”

Still nodding.

“Well, it’s nice that you’re thinking about these types of things, Shizuku,” he finally lets up, “I just don’t think what you’re proposing is a good endeavor for Cheerful*Days.”

She smiles back, holding her balled fists together. “I understand.”

“Good!” He pats her back, directing her to turn down the hall. “You’ve got another shoot to get ready for, now. See ya later!”

The last time that Shizuku saw her sister truly smile was at Phoenix Wonderland. They were sitting together, on a cold, wooden bench, in the tiny amphitheater of one of the park’s stages. It was close to the end of the park’s season, and the sun had already set, so the two were huddled close to feed off each other’s warmth. 

Yet, Shiho had an advantage over her older sister. Just an hour earlier, she had won a large, limited-edition Phenny plushie from one of the several game stands lined across the park. Or– Shizuku had won it, and promptly dropped into the younger girl’s arms. It was nearly the same size as Shiho herself, so she had to drag it on the ground to stop herself from stumbling as she walked. Their mom offered to take it off her hands, but she replied with a sharp refusal.

So, their disgruntled, tired mother brought them to one of the stage shows as they passed by, afraid to try and wrestle the giant plushie from her youngest daughter if they went on another ride. 

Phenny sat on Shiho’s lap. In order to see the stage, she had to put in the effort to look over the top of the plushie’s head. Eventually, she devised a comfortable position with her chin resting on top of Phenny, able to crush it slightly to view the show. A faint, but wondrous smile sat on her barely visible lips.

Perhaps, that was the last time Shizuku had truly smiled, too.

Shizuku doesn’t remember returning to her dressing room, nor the photoshoot at all. She just sat there and looked pretty, like a spectacle piece designed to wow the audience for one scene, then get shoved in the proproom for the rest of the show. Like she always does.

“Hey, did you hear? Shizuku tried to get some Phoenix Wonderland ambassadorship thing going! Management shut it down, though,” utters through the walls.

“Seriously? Why can’t she just do her job and work with us as a team?”

“I mean, she’s probably more famous than all of us combined by now. No wonder she won’t work with us.”

Shizuku smears a wipe across her face. Her eyeliner streaks down her cheeks. She picks her phone off of the vanity, and begins typing a message to her manager.

Tsukasa bounds through the mall with large strides, breathing heavily. People stare at him in judgment as he mutters to himself, but hey, he’s running late– and a true star is always punctual!

Dashing into the boba shop, he spots his meeting partner at a table near the back and makes his way over. Falling into the seat across from her, he pulls out his phone to check the time.

“Hahaha! Not a second too late! Just as expected of a future star!” He boasts, causing nearby patrons to look over.

“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Tsukasa,” Shizuku greets with a giggle, “I spoke with my manager about partnering with Phoenix Wonderland today.”

“Oh? That’s great, Shizuku!” He gushes back, “You’re always so dependable!”
She hums with an awkward air, then continues, “Well, it didn’t actually go so well…”

“Ah, I see…” Tsukasa deflates, tapping his nails against the plastic table. Still, he picks himself back up almost immediately, falling into a loud rant, “That’s okay! I started devising another plan in case of failure, since a true star never falters in the face of hardship! We’ll perform a grand show guerilla-style, attracting the entire population at the park, and they’ll be so amazed that–”

As the words spill from his mouth, Shizuku cuts in, “It’s okay, Tsukasa. I’m going to contact Phoenix Wonderland myself.”

Immediately, he stops with wide eyes. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“As of today, I’ve terminated my contract with Cheerful*Days. I’m no longer an idol.”

Tsukasa gasps, slamming his hands down onto the table in shock. “ WHAT?! ” She supposes she should have seen this reaction coming, but she still wonders why he responds with such surprise. It’s not like I’ve been doing any real idol activities, anyway…

Motioning for him to calm down, Shizuku explains, “I don’t think it was a good fit for me to be in that group. There were a lot of different circumstances that led to this decision, but I think it’s the best choice for me.”

“Ah… Well, if you say that it’s for the best, then I’ll support you to the end, Shizuku!” Tsukasa beams, shining a warm smile her way. Her heart swells at the gesture. Then, he asks, “But, if you’re no longer an idol, then how will you contact Phoenix Wonderland…?”

She giggles with a soft sigh. “Even though I’m no longer an active idol, I still attracted quite a lot of fame during my time as one. I’m sure I can find a way to speak with their representatives,” she elaborates, trying to will her brain from replaying the conversation she overheard in her dressing room.

Tsukasa’s eyes light up, and Shizuku can almost see the exclamation point pinging above his head. “Of course you’ll be able to! I know just the way!” He gasps, pushing himself up from his chair. “C’mon, we have a meeting to attend to!”

And that’s how Shizuku finds herself standing in front of Shousuke Otori, manager of Phoenix Wonderland. While Tsukasa pants, keeled over on the floor beside her, she attempts to fix her frizzled hair. Despite her protests, he had managed to drag her all the way across the park, into the management offices, past security, all the way into Otori’s office…

“...Can I help you?” Shousuke clears his throat, eyeing the two teens suspiciously.

“Apologies for the intrusion!” Shizuku blurts out, bowing politely. Tsukasa continues to gasp for air on the floor.

“Aren’t you…” The older man points at her, “Shizuku Hinomori? The idol?”

“Um, y– yes!” She stutters, then adds, “Although, I terminated my contract just today, actually…” She chuckles stiffly.

“Oh, I see…” Shousuke looks the two of them up and down, then continues, “Is there any particular reason why you barged into my office, or…?”

Suddenly, Tsukasa springs back up to his feet. “SIR OTORI, WE COME BEARING A PROPOSAL FOR YOUR FAMED WONDERLAND!”

Quickly, Shizuku adjusts, “I would like my next endeavor as an entertainer to be here, at Phoenix Wonderland.”

“Eh…? Why do you want to work here?” He drawls, raising an eyebrow at the strange duo.

As she opens her mouth to respond, Tsukasa blurts out, “WE’RE GOING TO SAVE YOUR STAGES FROM BEING DEMOLISHED AND PERFORM THE SHOW TO END ALL SHOWS AND AMAZE THE WONDERLAND PATRONS WITH MY STAR POWER AND SHIZUKU’S IDOL AURA!”

“...”

Again, Shizuku amends, “If you give us the chance to put on just one show, I’m sure we can make your shows lucrative again.” She shuffles her feet, adding, “It would mean a lot to be given that chance.”

The dark-haired man continues to look between the two, the preposition hanging heavy in the air. Shizuku fidgets with her hands as she looks to the ground, while Tsukasa stares intensely, unblinking, as if he’s challenging the older man to refuse. The air stills around them, only a quiet hum from the Shousuke’s desktop filling the space.

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone and never ask again?”

“YES!” Tsukasa shouts back before taking the time to comprehend the conditions. “Wait–”

“Then yes,” Shousuke interrupts, “There’s another stage we’ve already cleared out, that’s getting demolished at the end of the next week. You can do a show there the day before, and if it’s lucrative enough, we’ll consider continuing our show program. Is that fine?”

“You want us to put together a show in one week?!” Tsukasa squawks out, then collects himself, “Aha! Yes, of course! Any star can do a show in a week, haha…”

“Thank you,” Shizuku expresses, a small smile tugging at her lips, “This means a lot.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” the man mumbles back, then directs the pair out, “You can find the stage in the far northwest of the park.”

The two teens thank him again, in their own unique ways, and bounce down the hallway together. Wordlessly, Shousuke shuts the door to the room and sits back down at his desk. Head falling into his head, he mumbles, “I should’ve never come to the office today…”

Staring at the dilapidated stage, Tsukasa imagines a tumbleweed rolling across it. Somehow, it doesn’t seem out of place.

“Shizuku…” He hisses out, balling his feets. How am I, world future star Tsukasa Tenma, supposed to put on a show great enough to save all of the stages, on this sorry excuse of a venue?!

“Aw, it’s so cute and small!” She coos back, holding her hands up to her face.

“Huh?!”

“This will be a great place to hold a show!” She gushes back, “Intimate venues like this create a real connection between performer and audience. It’s perfect!”

Tsukasa looks over at her, looking for any trace of sarcasm or disappointment. He comes up empty. As expected of a famous idol, she’s able to find the positives in the worst situations… He grumbles to himself, I should take notes. 

Clearing his throat, he speaks up, “Haha! Of course! This will be a spectacular venue for my first step to stardom! Now, shall we begin discussing what show we will do?”

“Oh, yes, yes!” She beams back, nodding excitedly.

“I propose we perform an original play, written by yours truly–”

“You’ve written a show?” She gasps, leaning forward. “That’s amazing, Tsukasa! You really are a star!”

Another chest pang. However, this time, it feels somewhat odd. He brushes it off, prattling back, “Haha! Of course I am! You see–”

A flashing light cuts him off. 

“Ah– Tsukasa, your phone is so bright!” Shizuku remarks, shielding her eyes. Suddenly, he notices the world around him fraying at the edges of his vision. 

The sensation grows, and he shouts out, “AGH– NOT AGAIN!”

Once everything clears, he’s back at the now-familiar fairgrounds. However, this time, there’s a slight difference–

“Ah, where…” The blue-haired girl mutters, looking around at the overwhelming sights. 

“Fufu, welcome to SEKAI!” Miku’s voice trills out, causing both teens to jump.

“GAH– Miku, don’t just come out of nowhere like that!” Tsukasa reprimands, making the Vocaloid giggle.

“Are you… Hatsune Miku?” Shizuku asks, although she’s already sure of the answer. 

“Mm, mhm!” The smaller girl hums back, frantically nodding her head. Her cat ears wave back and forth with the motion. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Miku!” She greets with a bow, which Miku eagerly returns.

“Are you not concerned about this?!” Tsukasa yells, exasperated.

“She doesn’t seem dangerous…”

“THAT’S NOT THE ISSUE!” Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Tsukasa continues, “We were just transported into a strange world inside my phone, where Vocaloids exist as real people, and you’re just… okay with it?!”

“I suppose it’s weird…” Shizuku agrees, albeit with no concern, “But, you greeted her like you’ve met before. So, I assume everything’s fine.”

“Shizuku’s so open-minded and calm, perhaps Tsukasa should take a page out of her book,” another voice chimes in. Tsukasa scrambles with a squawk as he feels a cold hand touch his shoulder. Falling to the grass, he looks up to meet Kaito’s smirking face.

“Why are you all bullying me today?!” He shouts back.

“Bullying? We simply came over to greet the SEKAI’s newest guest,” Kaito explains, gesturing over to Shizuku.

To this, she gasps, “Even Kaito is here! This place is amazing, Tsukasa!”

“Is it…?” He grumbles, pushing himself back to his feet. “I barely even know what it is.”

“It’s a world made from your true feelings, Tsukasa!” Miku explains again, reaching up to pat his head. He bats her hand away, shouting with no meaning.

While he’s distracted, Shizuku questions, intrigued, “Tsukasa made this place?” 

Kaito elaborates, “Not consciously, but yes– it’s his doing.”

Shizuku only hums in response, considering this new information. However, she’s startled from her thoughts when a loud cry resounds from the nearby big top.

“Oh, you can ignore that,” Kaito assures her, seeing her alarmed expression, “Len and the plushies are practicing for our next show. They’re just acting.”

“Next show…? Are you all a theater troupe, then?”

“Yes, actually! I’m our leader, and you can consider Miku my second-in-command,” Kaito notes, unable to hide the pride of his title.

“That’s amazing! Do you have any advice for us, then, since we’re planning a show ourselves?”

“Hmm… That’s a bit of a vague question. I would suggest that, for now, you focus on building your troupe and finding your different strengths.”

Finally, Tsukasa shakes Miku off him for good. “Haha! That is excellent advice, Kaito! Every star needs an excellent team to propel them to true stardom, so we should begin recruiting a team that meets our level of determination,” he boasts, as if it was his own original guidance.

“It is hard to do a show with only two people,” Shizuku agrees, clasping her hands together, “Perhaps we should both try to scout new members tomorrow? It’d be nice to find more singers, or perhaps a costume designer…”

“Uu~! That sounds like fun!” Miku squeals, jumping back onto Tsukasa, much to his chagrin. “More guests will make the SEKAI even more vibrant!”

“Ack– Get off!” Tsukasa pulls the hyper Vocaloid off of his back, scowling as she giggles at his growing annoyance. “Yes, we’ll bring in new members tomorrow. Anyway, we should both head back now,” he quickly announces, pulling his phone out to pause the song, “We’ll be off!”

Waving them off, the two Vocaloids watch as the duo fades back into their own world. Once they’re fully gone, Miku’s ears curl into themselves.

“He still hasn’t figured it out…” She laments with a sigh.

“Still, I think he’s getting closer,” Kaito utters back, reaching out to rub her shoulder.

“Hello! I’m home!” Shizuku chirps as she slides her shoes off, calling out to the rest of her household. It’s not particularly late in the evening yet, so she doesn’t expect a response from anyone.

So, she’s shocked when she turns into the kitchen, catching her sister digging into a bowl of ramen.
“Ah, Shii, you’re home so early!” She bubbles, rushing to take a seat across from her. “It’s been so long since we last talked, one-on-one.”

Shiho slurps her noodles, and doesn’t entertain her with a response.

Still, Shizuku persists. “I have big news, actually! Just today, I quit Cheerful*Days and found a new job performing at Phoenix Wonderland. Isn’t that exciting?”

“You… quit being an idol?” Her sister finally rasps out, but doesn’t make eye contact.

“Yes, I don’t think it was the right path for me…” She admits, looking off to the side.

“Mm,” Shiho voices, but Shizuku can’t tell what emotion is conveyed through the sound. Before she can continue the conversation, her younger sister stands up and moves to place her bowl in the sink. 

Seeing that she’s preparing to leave, Shizuku quickly blurts out, “I’ll be in a show at Phoenix Wonderland next week! Will you… Will you please come?”

Shiho doesn’t even look back, walking out of the room. Shizuku sighs, looking down at her nails. She’s been fidgeting with her hands so much, most of her polish has begun to flake off.

Shii’s seemed more upset than usual, lately…

She thinks back to that one night, a large plushie with a smile hovering above…

I’m going to bring that smile back.

The next day, Tsukasa Tenma, future star on a warpath, strides down the halls of Kamiyama High School. Most people pay him no mind, but some turn to giggle with their friends at the eccentric boy’s mannerisms. 

None of them will do, he affirms to himself. He stands at the head of a hallway, monitoring each individual that crosses his sight. No one in particular catches his eye, until…

“AKITO!” He shouts with a gasp, rushing over to his underclassmen.

The younger boy groans, rolling his eyes. “What do you want?”

“HOW WOULD YOU FEEL ABOUT PERFORMING IN A SHOW–”

“No.”

“HEY– I DIDN’T GET TO FINISH!” Tsukasa reprimands, “It’s rude to interrupt your seniors!”

“Leave me alone,” Akito states firmly, already walking away. Tsukasa seethes silently, Such ferocity and resolve! That’s exactly why I asked him, damn it!

However, while stewing in his rejection, he catches the sight of a familiar face through the open door of a nearby classroom. Without another thought, he dashes into the room, pointing at his next target.

“TOYA!” Tsukasa booms. The boy startles at the sudden noise, but melts back into a comfortable state when he sees the figure rushing up to him.

“Ah, Tsukasa. What’s wrong?” Toya asks, looking up to his senior.

“I’m recruiting members to join my troupe at Phoenix Wonderland! Please, join!” He begs, grasping onto the younger boy’s shoulders.

“Oh… I wish I could help, but…” He bristles, looking down to avoid Tsukasa’s intense gaze, “My father…”

Immediately, Tsukasa unhands him, stepping back to give him space. “Right… I’m sorry for asking…” He mumbles, uncharacteristically quiet. “Ah… I’ll see you later! I HAVE TO KEEP LOOKING…!” Tsukasa sprints off, voice growing louder as he exits the classroom.

“Take care, Tsukasa!” Toya responds, but far too quiet for the other boy to hear at his distance.

Facing two rejections in a row, Tsukasa enters a state of panic. So, he starts grabbing random people in the halls, entering random classrooms, blurting out proposals, only to get rejected over and over again. Frantically, he thinks to himself, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PUT TOGETHER THE WORLD’S GREATEST SHOW AT THIS RATE?! Classes are about to resume, so he only has one last chance– Class 1-A.

He slides open the door, and inhales a deep breath to shout out, “PLEASE, SOMEONE, ANYONE ,  JOIN MY TROUPE!

He looks around. A group of underclassmen blink up at him. Just as he’s about to drop to his knees and plead, one of them stands up. He gasps, because finally, someone’s going to help–

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the girl declares, “Or I’ll get a teacher involved.”

“ Oooh… An’s gone all hall-monitor mode!” Another student teases, making the bold girl turn to smack them. However, they dodge, causing their assailant to stumble and knock their journal off of their desk. As it tumbles to the floor, Tsukasa spots multiple pages full of extravagant clothing designs as it flips through its contents. 

A costume designer…?

A lightbulb flicks on in his head. 

“ YOU! ” He reaches out, grabbing the hand of the mystery student. “FOLLOW ME!” He urges, but tugs on them in a way that doesn’t allow them to refuse.

“Woah–! Ah…?” The student yelps in shock, but doesn’t seem to be too concerned with the sudden predicament.

As he pulls them out of the room, their friend shouts out, pleading for their return. He pays her no mind, and brings his newest troupe member into the hall.

“I’m Tsukasa Tenma, world future star and newest performer of Phoenix Wonderland!” He introduces, striking one of his many poses in his repertoire. “And you– Um…”

“Mizuki Akiyama. Just call me Mizuki,” they supply, putting up no fight against his eccentricity.

“You, Mizuki, are the newest member of my troupe, as I bestow you the honor of being the great star, Tsukasa Tenma’s, wonderful costumer!” He boasts, tacking on his signature laugh for extra measure.

“Oh…?” They tap a finger to their chin, amused. “Is this your way of asking me to help you out with your little shows?”

“...Yes.”

At his sudden silence, Mizuku bursts out laughing. “Oh, you’re so fun! So what, am I getting paid for this? You said it’s for Phoenix Wonderland, yeah?”

“Ah… I believe so? I should probably ask Shizuku, she’s supposed to have a business chat today. Don’t know why I wasn’t invited…” He mumbles, fishing his phone out of his pocket to text the girl in question.

Suddenly, Mizuki gasps. “Wait– Shizuku? Like, Shizuku Hinomori?”

“Yes, she’s my fellow troupe–”

“Holy shit! Yes, I’ll work with you guys!” They interrupt, grabbing onto Tsukasa’s hands in excitement. “ Designing for an idol? Hell yeah, I’ll do it!” With their exclamation, the warning bell sounds off. “Ah, I should head back… An’s gonna be pissed if I finally show up to school and don’t go to all of my classes.”

“Hey, what happened to your pay?! And why are you more excited to work with Shizuku than me?! ” He calls out, but Mizuki’s already skipping back into the classroom.

Shizuku shuffles out of her classroom, trailing behind the rest of her class. A nervous energy flutters through her stomach, making her feel uneasy. She doesn’t normally speak to many people in her class, so she felt awkward asking anyone about joining the troupe, but she’s also worried about showing up to their first practice having failed their first mission as a group.

I can’t fail this team, too…

She stands in the hallway, watching as her classmates drift away, floating out of sight. 

I can’t… I can’t keep…

“Um, Shizuku?” A voice suddenly perks up, shaking Shizuku out of her spiraling panic.

“Oh, um–” She turns around, and looks down to her familiar underclassman. “Ichika, it’s nice to see you again! But, what are you doing in the second-year wing?”

“I had to deliver a paper for my teacher,” Ichika responds, clutching onto her bag. “Are you okay? You’ve just been standing there…”

“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts!” She briskly apologizes, then changes topics, “It’s been so long since I last saw you! You and the others haven’t visited our house in a long time, right?”

The younger girl’s eyes widen, and Shizuku realizes she’s said something she shouldn’t have. “Um… Did Shiho… not tell you?” She queries, looking concerned.

“Tell me what?” Shizuku asks back, even more confused.

“We’re all… not really friends, anymore,” Ichika looks down, leg bouncing. “Shiho’s been blowing off us off for a while now, and Honami’s been distant, and Saki only just came back, so…” Then, she shakes her and clears her throat, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be throwing all of this on you.”

Shizuku cups a hand over her mouth, looking down at her junior with pity. “Ichika… I suppose that’s why Shiho’s been more angsty than usual,” she mulls over.

“If you’ve noticed a change, that’s probably it,” Ichika confirms. “I would ask you if you know why Shiho pushed us away, but if she didn’t even tell you about our falling out, then you probably don’t know anything.”

With a small nod, she responds, “You’re right, I don’t know anything. I’m sorry, I wish I could help…”

Sensing the somber turn in the conversation, Ichika quickly redirects, “No, it’s fine! So, what have you been up to? Idol work, I assume?”

“Oh, well…” Shizuku trails off, rubbing the nape of her neck, “I actually quit Cheerful*Days. I’m now working at Phoenix Wonderland, actually,” she explains.

“Oh! Well, good for you, I guess,” Ichika responds, awkwardly, “Are you performing in the shows, or…?”

“Yes, the shows!” She excitedly chirps, but then gasps with realization. “Actually, I’m supposed to recruit more members to our troupe! Ichika, you can sing– Would you like to join?”

“Joining a theater troupe? This is a little sudden…” Ichika falters, fidgeting with her uniform’s bow.

“Fufu, I understand,” Shizuku giggles, “I quit being an idol and joined the troupe in the same day, and we only have a week to put on a show, so this whole thing’s going a little fast…”

“Hold on,” Ichika interjects, “A week to put on a show?’ Why such a short time limit?”

“Oh, you see…” She jumps into the whole spiel, explaining the circumstances. Once she finishes, Ichika stands in astonishment. 

“That’s… quite the problem,” she breathes out, scratching her head. “I guess if you really need the help, I could swing by your next practice.”

“Really? Ichi, that’s so kind of you!” Shizuku praises, grabbing onto the younger girl’s hands. “I’m actually heading over to the park for practice now! You can tag along, if you’d like. It’s going to be a short session because I have a meeting with park management later,” she explains.

“Ah…” Ichika lilts in hesitation. After a moment of thought, she agrees, “Okay, that works for me.”

Shizuku giggles, pulling the younger girl along through the hallway.

“Woah, this stage is…” Mizuki murmurs, looking up to the wooden set above them.

“A GREAT AND WONDERFUL PLACE TO BEGIN MY JOURNEY TO STARDOM!” Tsukasa interrupts in a shout, clapping his hands together. 

Mizuki stifles their laughter, wiping the dust off of an audience bench before sitting down. “Sure thing!”

“Tsukasa?” A new voice chimes in, and the two look at the newcomers stepping into the venue. “I guess I should’ve figured you would be at the center of all this…”
“Ichika! What a surprise!” Tsukasa greets, rushing up to meet the two girls walking in. “I suppose you’re Shizuku’s recruit? It’s been so long since I last saw you!”

At this, Ichika shuffles awkwardly, looking down. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Oh, who’s this?” Shizuku muses, looking over to the pink-haired person sitting at a distance.

“Ah, everyone meet–” Tsukasa pauses, pulling the two girls over to the audience seats, “Mizuki Akiyama, our wonderful costumer extraordinaire!”

“‘Sup, everyone. Nice to meet you!” Mizuki greets, waving a hand lazily. The three exchange pleasantries for a few moments, before Tsukasa pipes back up.

“Ahem! Since we’re short on time today, we should begin as soon as possible,” he announces, pulling large heaps of paper out from his backpack. “I’ve revised my scripts to fit with our circumstances, since the original version called for a bit of a bigger production…” He explains, dropping a copy of said script into everyone’s hands.

Immediately, the three members start scanning its content, as Tsukasa begins to go over the basic synopsis in his typical dramatic fashion. As Shizuku coos in awe at his aberrant ideas, Ichika falters. Mizuki chuckles along at the strange writing, but stops with a bone-chilling realization.

“Umm… There’s four roles in this,” they pipe up, raising a hand to catch the rambling boy’s attention.

“That there are! Why, is that a problem?”

“I only agreed to work on costuming. I didn’t know I was expected to act as well,” they explain, shrinking into the seat.

“Haha! Don’t fret, brave costumer, as I, future star Tsukasa Tenma, will be your acting coach! You’ll be better than most famous actors by the time of the show!” He boasts, striking a triumphant pose.

“That’s nice, but–” Mizuki’s cut off by a flashing white light that suddenly emits from their phone. “Huh? What was–”

“Ooh, is it happening again?” Shizuku effuses, eyes shining.

“I hope not!” Tsukasa barks back.

It happens again.

Except this time, the two newest members of the troupe have been transported with them.

“Huh? Where are we?” Ichika immediately questions, shuffling closer to Shizuku. 

“SEKAI, of course!” Miku’s voice perks up as she appears behind Tsukasa, jumping onto his back once more.

“AGH, MIKU!” He shouts, trying to push her off, “HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO DO THIS?!”

“M… Miku…” Ichika stammers, pointing up at the Vocaloid with wide eyes. Meanwhile, Mizuki cackles to themself, barely breathing at the sight of Tsukasa flailing with a catgirl hanging off of him. 

“Welcome, everyone!” Miku chirps, detaching herself from the boy. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all!”

“Eh…?” Mizuki interjects, “You already know all of us?”

Miku nods, “Mhm! Tsukasa and Shizuku have already visited, but now that you and Ichika have arrived, the fun can finally begin!”

“‘The fun?’” Ichika breathes out, still reeling from the real-life personification of Hatsune Miku speaking to everyone.

“Fufu~” The Vocaloid winks at the group, a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, “Follow me!” Skipping off, she waltzes into the big top down the path. Reluctantly, the rest of the group heeds her direction. However, once they enter the tent, they’re struck by the sight of a yellow-haired boy surrounded by a swarm of walking, talking stuffed animals.

“Holy shit,” Mizuki breathes out, slapping a hand over their mouth, “You all see that, right?”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Shizuku gushes, “Those plushies are so cute!”

“You’re so calm about this…” Tsukasa grumbles, looking over at the awe-struck girl beside him.

The yellow-haired boy stomps his foot down, wagging a finger at a particularly upset looking plushie. From their distance, no one in the group can quite make out what he’s saying. However, Ichika spots a packet in his hand, and asks, “Are they practicing a show?”

“Mm, mm!” Miku hums, bouncing with excitement, “Welcome to my acting class!”

“Acting… class…?” She echoes back.

“Len’s a bit new to the troupe, and has been worried about how his skills stack up against the rest of us. To ease his worries, I offered my very own masterclass!” The Vocaloid explains merrily, “It’s become quite popular here in the SEKAI– So many plushies keep joining in!”

“How wonderful!” Shizuku praises, “You must be a wonderful teacher, then.”

“Fufu~ Of course I am!” She boasts, posing with her hands on her hips. “Would you all like to sit in for a lesson?”

Right as Tsukasa begins to reject, Mizuki shouts out, “Oh, would I!” As they move to make a seat in the audience, the other two sound out their acceptances and follow after. Dejectedly, Tsukasa grumbles and shuffles over to sit behind his troupemates.

Miku jumps onto the stage, clapping her hands to grab her students’ attention. “Great work, everyone! I just have one note…” She pauses for dramatic effect, scanning over the plushies’ frightened faces. Then, in a swift motion, she points her arm out and shouts, “LEN!”

“Whaa–?!” The yellow-haired boy cries, stumbling backwards. 

“You’re yelling your lines, but I’m not feeling your anger,” she hums, then continues, “Maybe you should take up pro-wrestling in order to find your rage!”

“Really?!” Len gasps, eyes glittering with wonder.

“Is he really going to listen to that advice?” Ichika whispers, looking concerned.

Mizuki gasps excitedly, “Are they gonna fight?! Should we place bets?”

“Why are you so happy about that?!” Tsukasa scolds back.

Back on the stage, Miku rustles the smaller boy’s hair. “Fufu, of course! I only give the best advice to all my future stars!”

Tsukasa freezes. His troupemates in front of him continue whispering amongst themselves.

Eventually, Miku dismisses her class after sharing several more “unusual” pieces of acting advice. As the plushies disperse every which way, she walks over to speak with the troupe once more.

Mizuki speaks up first, wiping tears from their eyes, “ Ohhhh my god, Miku, that was so good. I’m in love,” they gasp out, still laughing.

“Thank you, hehe!” She giggles, blushing, “Would you like to join my next lesson?”

“Is that a serious offer?” They respond, eyes wide, “Because yes , absolutely.”

“I'll come get you when my next class starts, then!”

Suddenly, Tsukasa interjects, “That’s great and all, but we should really get going now… We only have a week to work on our own show.”

“Uuu, that’s true,” Miku mewls, “I guess I’ll see you guys later, then.”

“Wait!” Ichika shouts, stopping Tsukasa from pressing pause on his phone. “Could you… let me know when your next class is, too?”

“Of course!” She beams, ears bouncing as she nods. 

“Eh? You’re coming too?” Mizuki asks.

“Yeah… I don’t have any experience with acting, so…” She trails off, making a waving gesture with her hand. 

“Haha! It’s admirable that you wish to enhance your abilities in order to stand tall on stage!” Tsukasa effuses, then sobers up, “We really should get back now, though.”

“It’s strange to see Tsukasa so serious…” Miku teases, making him scowl in response. “I’ll see you all very soon!”

Mizuki saunters into Class 1-A, keychain of their favorite magical girl villain jingling as it smacks against the back of their backpack. “Heya!” They whistle, sliding onto their only friend in the class’ desk.

“Hey, get–” An starts to chide, but looks up to meet Mizuki’s eyes, “Mizuki?! You came into school two days in a row?”

“I know right!” They shine a toothy grin down at the girl. “Aren’t I such a good little student?”

Quickly, An shoots up from her seat. She slaps her hand to Mizuki’s forehead, making them hiss in response. “Are you feeling okay?! Did you come down with something?! You shouldn’t come to school if you’re delirious, you know!”

“Hey, hey!” They swat the hand off of them, jeering, “Can’t I attend class in peace? Shouldn’t you be happy for me, Madam Hall Monitor? ”

“Shut up!” An retorts back, “You must be in a really good mood to come to school this much… What happened?”

“Eh? It’s only been two days!”

“That’s a lot for you!” An exclaims.

“Whatever…” Mizuki grumbles back, teasing, “I’m going to my seat since you’re being so mean to me.”

An waves them off as they walk to the opposite of the room. As they lean down to place their bag on the ground and retrieve their journal, they catch the eye of a girl looking over at them. She gasps and quickly turns away, her friends surrounding her giggling amongst themselves. Quietly, Mizuki returns to finding their journal and a pencil. Eventually, they settle into working on a new design before class starts.

“Akiyama actually showed up again, I can’t believe it!”

“Do you see what Akiyama’s wearing?”

“I’d be embarrassed if I was Akiyama, honestly.”
“Akiyama tries so hard to stand out, it’s nauseating…”

Snap!

Mizuki gasps, looking down. Flakes of their pencil litter the page of their journal, as they hold one half of said pencil in their manicured hand. Immediately, they move to flee the room, feeling dread pooling in their chest, but are cut off when their teacher steps in to greet the class.

Shit, they mutter to themself, settling back into their seat. Now I’m stuck here with…

“Why can’t Akiyama just dress regularly?” They hear a whisper from behind. Immediately, they whip their head around, but find the girl behind them with her head in a book.

Man, I’m losing it now…

“Akiyama’s so weird…”

They bury their head in their hands.

“Akiyama acts like the victim, but it’s really their fault!”

They swallow their rising panic down.

“If Akiyama just acted normally…”

Mizuki sprints to the rooftop as soon as they’re dismissed for lunch. They don’t wait for An to collect her belongings, they just run. Besides, An probably has better things to do– better people to eat with– right?

I should’ve known, they think, it never gets better.

They pull out their packed lunch, a little cat-shaped bento design they put together that made them arrive after the gate closed, but find no solace in it,

It’s cute… I think. I don’t know.

What I think is “cute” seems to be weird, so…

Whatever. I have no appetite anymore, anyway.

Suddenly, the rooftop door kicks open, nearly making them drop their food. “Mizuki, are you up here?” A voice shouts out, and its owner steps out to reveal himself– Tsukasa Tenma. They stare at each other, equally shocked at the other’s presence. However, Tsukasa’s expression breaks into one of pure joy as he rushes up to his troupemate.

“Mizuki, I was looking all over for you!” He gasps out, planting himself next to them on the bench. 

“Huh? Why?” They bristle, feeling awkward with the sense of nostalgia that hits them.

“This future star must discuss what type of magnificent costuming his talented and superb designer will be dressing him in for his big debut show, of course!” He shouts, despite the lack of distance between the two.

“Ah, I see…” Mizuki trails off, digging into their bag for their journal. “I actually sketched some stuff out during class, if you want to look.”

“Hahaha! Yes, of course!” He beams, taking the notebook from their hands. Mizuki taps their foot against the floor, growing nervous with every slight movement or hum Tsukasa makes as he carefully observes their designs.

Finally, he resounds, “Excellent work! As expected of my brave costumer, of course! Hahaha!”

“Really?” They whisper, but shake their doubts away as they meet Tsukasa’s kind gaze. “Ah, thanks… I’ll have them made and ready to wear by the end of the week, I swear.”

“Mizuki, you’re so wonderful!” He praises, jumping to his feet. “Yes, this future star’s grand debut will be most superb, indeed!”

They giggle in response, watching him strike a pose. “Yes, sir, indeed!” They tease. However, Tsukasa misses the joke and only beams back. So, Mizuki returns the smile.

His eyes widen, feeling something stir in his chest once more.

Seeing the sudden change, Mizuki leans forward to inquire about it, but is interrupted by a sudden glowing from their phone.

“Mizuki, Mizuki! It’s time for acting class!” Miku squeals, jumping up as if she could reach them if she tries hard enough.

“Eh? I think lunch’s ending soon, though…”

However, Tsukasa leans down and places a hand on their shoulder. “Go. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks around.”

Mizuki stares back, inhaling a shaky breath. They can’t tell if it’s the warmth of his hand or his smile that makes them shiver. Still, they breathe out in more than one way, “Thank you, Tsukasa.”

“Anything for my brave costumer, haha!” He winks and flashes a thumbs-up at them.

In the SEKAI, Miku tugs Mizuki along to the main stage, where a group of plushies are playing about. Above them, Len and Ichika stand, deep in conversation. 

“Hey, Ichika!” Mizuki cups their hands to shout as they walk up to the group, “You have lunch right now, too?”

“Ah, no, actually,” she explains, “We had a short day today due to a teacher’s conference, so I was able to come.”

“ Ohhh, that explains why you’re not in uniform,” Mizuki snaps their fingers, “Such a shame– The Miya uniforms are so cute!”

Ichika blushes, looking away. “Yeah, I had only just gotten home when Len showed up and told me to come here…”

“Mm! It’s nice to finally speak with both of you!” Len speaks up, greeting the final member of the troupe. “I was just telling Ichika about the training regiment Miku’s put me on!”

“Huh? Isn’t this just an acting class?” Mizuki questions.

“The body is one of the most important parts of one’s acting!” Miku chimes in, crossing her arms, “A healthy body and clear mind are essential for a quality show!”

“That’s why I’ve been running 42 kilometers around the SEKAI every day!” Len beams, looking proud of himself.

Mizuki gasps out in shock. “Isn’t that a marathon’s length?!” 

“Should I be taking notes?” Ichika asks, looking around. However, her fellow troupemate just grabs her shoulders and shakes their head.

“No. Do not.”

“Fufu~” Miku giggles, looking oblivious to her antics, “Shall we begin today’s lesson, then?”

For a majority of the class, Miku has the plushies reading off scripts together, while Ichika and Mizuki sit off to the side, observing. At some point, she singles Ichika out to perform a scene with Len, leaving Mizuki alone in the audience. The scene is awkward and inorganic, but they can tell that the two of them are really, truly trying. Both of them are putting in the effort, consciously thinking about their actions, and how they read the lines, and…

I don’t get any of this, Mizuki laments in silence. Acting’s all about feeling and portraying emotions, right? How am I supposed to do that, if I–

“There’s something missing,” a man’s voice mumbles from behind them, causing Mizuki to jump and swing around. Gasping for air, they meet the face of a blue-haired guy, staring intensely ahead at the stage. “But I think there’s a solid foundation. They’ll get there, one day.” When he directs his smile to Mizuki, they’re reminded of the rooftop.

“Um… You’re…”

“Kaito, leader of the SEKAI’s troupe. Pleasure to meet you,” he extends a hand out, which Mizuki accepts with a shake. Kaito swings his leg over the bench, placing himself at Mizuki’s side. “You can feel them looking for the right emotions, but it doesn’t seem like it’s actually realized. Right?”

Mizuki hums in agreement. “Yeah, that’s a good way to describe it…”

“It’s because they’re not transforming themselves,” he observes.

“Eh?”

“A lot of people think that, in order to act well, you have to be in tune with your emotions. In that way, acting is viewed as simply flipping through a deck of cards, reshuffling your hand every time you say a new line.” He looks at Mizuki, but they only stare back with a raised eyebrow. So, he continues, “If you have a line that curses at another character, you know your character’s angry. So, you yell. Like Len just did.” He gestures up at the stage, where the younger boy flails his arms wildly towards Ichika. “If you were listening, though, he sounded quite flat. Even though he was shouting, he wasn’t angry ,” he stresses.

“So… Being angry isn’t the same as yelling, or being loud?” Mizuki looks for confirmation.

“Exactly. An actor can portray the proper emotions of a script, but it’ll never feel quite accurate to the real feelings of their character if they aren’t becoming one with the role. That’s why I view performance as an act of transformation, more than anything else.”

“Transformation…?” Mizuki echoes, finally the puzzle pieces shifting around in their head.

“Like you’re becoming a different person. A new ‘you’ entirely,” he affirms.

The puzzle clicks together. The picture on it is clear, now. On the stage, Miku claps, congratulating her students on a job well done. 

Mizuki shoots up, raising their hand. “Miku! Let me try next!”

As Tsukasa trudges down the main path towards the gate, he’s suddenly pushed over by a giant force hopping on his back. Indignantly, he squawks as he catches both his and his assailant’s weight to stop them from tumbling to the floor.

“Tsukasa~! Thank you so much for everything today!” Mizuki sings out, giggling.

“Gah– Mizuki! You’re welcome, but unhand me!” He rasps out. Compliant, they jump off and settle with a poke on his cheek. “You’re much more hyper than before…”

“Hehe, I suppose I had a good class today,” they wink. This time, Tsukasa catches on to their hidden messaging.

“Well, of course you’d have an excellent time in a place born from this future star’s very own feelings! Haha!” He boasts, wrapping an arm around his junior’s shoulders.

The two exit the school grounds, feeding off of each other’s bubbling excitement for the show to come.

A week goes by faster than any of the troupe had expected. Tsukasa stresses over script revisions, preparing him and his troupe for their journey to stardom while ignoring the recurring strange sensations he keeps feeling while at work. Shizuku excitedly helps out in every way she can, flitting between practicing lines with Ichika and picking out fabric samples with Mizuki. Ichika spends her free time in the SEKAI, practicing with its inhabitants. Mizuki skips the rest of their classes, ignoring the incessant calls from their homeroom teacher, just to finish up everyone’s costumes. 

Yet, by the end of the week, everything comes together. The amateur troupe, with all of its eccentricities, has a show ready to start in less than five minutes.

Peeking out from behind the curtain, Ichika whispers to her troupemates, “It’s overflowing with people…”

Sure enough, the audience is filled from row-to-row with attendants. Even the back is packed with people, resolving to stand just to watch the upcoming show. From backstage, the troupe hears the cacophony of bubbling whispers of the waiting audience.

“I guess most of the promotional material did feature me, huh?” Shizuku awkwardly realizes, holding a hand to her cheek.

“Haha! This is perfect! Such a large crowd that will fall in love with our extravagant show– This will surely save the stages here! This is a good day, indeed!” Tsukasa crows, beaming with pride.

“Maybe we’ll even get a promotion, heh…” Mizuki jokes with a nervous laugh, face flushed.

Still, Ichika stumbles back from the curtain and whispers, “I’m gonna vomit…”

“Hey, not on the costumes, please!” They rush over, preparing to hold her hair back.

“Ah, everyone calm down, please!” Shizuku exclaims, waving her hands to catch her troupe’s attention. “We’ve been preparing for a week now, and have put together something really, truly special– our own original show, with an original book, music, and costumes. Despite the unexpectedly large audience, we have nothing to fear. I have only pride for our creation, and I hope to convey this on stage… Beside you all.” She pauses for a moment, afraid to look up and meet the others’ confused and mocking expressions. However, when she gathers the courage, she finds nothing of the sort.

“Shizuku…” Tsukasa drawls out, before picking up the pieces of his persona, “Haha! You’re going to give me a run for my money as this troupe’s leader if you keep giving speeches like that.” Then, he turns to face everyone at once. “You heard her! There’s nothing to fear, so let’s get out there and put on the best show this park’s ever seen!”

Mizuki gives a nod as Ichika sounds out her agreement. However, she adds, “I might still vomit…”

The show goes off without a hitch. Despite the audience’s confusion at Tsukasa’s… unique… script, most people seemed distracted enough by Shizuku’s overwhelming charm to pay it any mind. 

Mizuki peeks out from the wings, discerning the outward expressions of the audience. They’re playing the smallest role, so they’re off stage more than they’re on. As such, they’ve taken to glancing at the audience every time something extravagant happens, such as Shizuku acing a high note or Tsukasa being himself, just to gauge the crowd’s reaction. 

As they’re giggling along, they catch a familiar sight towards the back rows– the Kamiyama High uniform. In fact, a group of several kids wearing it are hunched together, pointing and whispering amongst themselves. 

Shit! Mizuki thinks, feeling their breath pick up. Stumbling back from the curtain, they throw their hands over their mouth, feeling tears well up. Not now, not now! Why are they here?! A voice in the back of their head responds, To make fun of you. 

Mizuki crouches down, trying to keep their panic from growing anymore. They’re definitely first-years, I’ve seen them around… Surely that’s not why… Surely… 

But…

A familiar chime rings out, and Mizuki realizes with a gasp that their entrance song has started. With wide eyes, they look out from the wings. The rest of their troupe is on stage, looking over with varying levels of confusion. 

They can’t move. They’re frozen. Their troupe is on stage, their classmates in the audience…

And they can’t move.

Their vision glazes over with tears, blurring the sight of Shizuku stepping forward to take over the song.

They still can’t move.

The mingled sounds of the audience shuffling out of the venue, conversing together. Mizuki sits, curled in the corner backstage, Shizuku petting their head as they stew into their own self-pity. Ichika stands awkwardly at a distance, watching Tsukasa pace back and forth.

“We had… a really good thing going,” he mumbles, pausing in his fretting, “You know?”

“Tsukasa…” Shizuku warns in a low whisper.

“This was supposed to be my big debut…” He whips around, pointing an accusatory finger at the figure on the ground, “And you ruined it!”

“They’re obviously upset about it, Tsukasa,” Ichika steps in, “You don’t need to rub salt in the wound.”

“What? So I’m not allowed to be upset, either?” He hisses, “Our whole show was ruined because Mizuki wouldn’t just perform their role! Now, I look stupid! How am I supposed to be a star like this?!”

“What, was this all just some elaborate scheme to propel your own fame?” Mizuki mumbles, looking up hazily. “Are we all just your stepping stones?”

“...”

“Oh, am I right, then?”

“Guys, don’t fight…” Ichika interjects, to no success.

“No, it’s fine,” Mizuki stands up with a huff, dusting their costume off. “Because I won’t be coming back. Have fun with your little rise to stardom, Tenma. I’m so sure you’ll find at some fucking theme park.”

“Wait–!” Shizuku scrambles to her feet, reaching out for Mizuki. However, they’re already out of reach. Silently, she turns to face Tsukasa. He’s breathing heavily, face flushed with rage.

“...Did you really only want to save the stages for your own gain?” She whispers, eyes shining with tears.

“Shizuku–” He starts, but she cuts him off.

“I decided to help you because I wanted to save these stages, for my sister,” she admits, a sad smile gracing her face, “I thought, maybe you were doing the same, but…”

“...”

“I see that isn’t true,” she finishes.

“When did you start dreaming of becoming a star, anyway?”

When was the last time he had seen her so happy, smiling so brightly, anyway?

“But– I want to meet the king!”

When Tsukasa looks back up, the other two girls are gone as well. Something wet drops onto his costume. It must’ve started to rain.

Ichika runs up to Shizuku, falling behind as she shuffles out of the venue. 

“Um… Excuse me! Shizuku?” She calls out, making the other girl jump and turn around.

“Hm? Are you alright, Ichi?” She asks, hurrying over to her.

Clearing her throat, she shuffles awkwardly. “Do you know if… um… Do you know if Shiho came?”

Gasping, the former idol claps her hands together. “Ah! I did invite her, so perhaps she came!” God, I hope she did…

Immediately, the two start looking around, looking through the wading crowd around them. Suddenly, Ichika gasps out, pointing, “Isn’t that Saki? Maybe Shiho’s with her!”

“Ah, let’s ask!”

The two rush over before her former friend can disappear into the crowd. Saki turns around with a squeal when Ichika taps her shoulder.

“Ohmygod, Ichi! I was so shocked when you came out on stage, but you did so well!” She shrieks, throwing her arms around the girl. “Ichi, my brother, and Shiho’s sister all working together, performing such a great show– I’m so glad!”

“Ah, speaking of Shii,” Shizuku chimes in, “Did she come with you to the show today? I haven’t seen her at all…”

“Oh, um…” Saki bristles, rubbing the back of her neck, “No, actually. She hasn’t seemed very interested in talking to me lately.”

“I see…” She replies, trying to keep her tone as light as possible, despite the growing chill freezing over her body. “Thank you for coming, anyway! I have to go now, so I’ll leave you two to catch up…”

Shizuku doesn’t wait to hear their farewells. Her heart’s burning, pounding as if it’s about to burst out. 

I can’t make her smile…

His lamp’s light reflects off of the rhinestones lining his costume, hitting Tsukasa in the eye. He grumbles, fumbling over to move the costume from its hanger to a drawer. However, a new light shines in his eyes, making him recoil.

“Tsukasa! How’d today’s show go~?” Miku sings out, appearing as a small, staticy form on top of his phone.

“Ah… I’d rather not talk about it,” he mutters, sitting back down at his desk. 

Tipping her head to the side, she asks, “Mm? Did something bad happen?”

Bristling, Tsukasa looks away from the Vocaloid. Softly, he admits, “Mizuki got stage fright, and I kinda… blew up at them over it.”

“Oh, I see…” She moans, but quickly regains her cheer, “But how did the show go?”

“Um…?” He hums, taking a moment to consider the question. Even though they had the mishap with Mizuki, the audience didn’t seem to notice… and…

They were all smiling. Even as they filtered out of the seats, they were still smiling and laughing with each other.

His chest aches.

“Fufu, it seems you’ve realized something~” Miku croons, placing her hands on her hips.

He grasps at the pulsing in his chest. It’s suffocating, but freeing at the same time. His head grows dizzy at the thought. “Miku… Are these my ‘true feelings’?”

“Yes, I think so,” she nods firmly, “I’m glad you’ve found them again, Tsukasa.”

“Yeah…” He whispers, feeling a smile creep onto his face, “I’m glad, too.”

The next day, Tsukasa wakes up early to carry out his plan. While Saki and his parents are at the hospital, he sneaks into his dad’s office to grab a heavy amount of craft supplies. He spends hours cutting up construction paper, gluing cardboard together, and scribbling with markers. Eventually, he stands back, parading over his work–

A recreation of the Wonder Stage’s last set.

The front door clicks open, and he hurries to place his construction paper crown on his head. Grabbing a foam sword he was given the prior Christmas, he strikes a gallant pose, waiting…

“Ah! Tsukasa, what’s–” His mother starts, gasping in shock, but she’s cut off by Saki’s squealing.

“It’s the king!” She beams, running over to her older brother.

“Haha, yes! It is I, Saki!” Tsukasa shouts back, waving his sword in the air. “Keep fighting!”

“Keep fighting!” She echoes, but doubles over coughing. Worriedly, their mom rushes over. She crouches down to meet her daughter’s level, but Saki looks back up with a radiant smile.

“Are you alright, dear?” She asks, looking her over.

“Yes, mama!” Saki gushes, “As long I keep fighting, I’ll be fine!”

Something stirs in Tsukasa’s chest. If he could freeze time, or frame this moment, he would do it in a heartbeat. Though, he’s old enough to know that that’s impossible. So, he resolves to keep performing, so that Saki will keep smiling. 

Always.

The three teens sit awkwardly at the table, gazes shifting everywhere but each other. Tsukasa avoids looking up, lest he accidentally make eye contact with either girl sitting across from him.

Thankfully, the man who called them in for the meeting finally walks in, taking a seat at the head of the table. He clears his throat, then begins, “Thank you for coming in today. I’d like to discuss your positions here at Phoenix Wonderland, based on yesterday’s performance… Um, are you missing someone?”

“Mizuki was unable to make it today,” Shizuku responds briskly. In truth, no one had heard from them since the fight backstage. 

“I see. We’ll have to relay the message that Phoenix Wonderland would like to offer you all positions at a new stage we’re building, called the Sunrise Stage, then.”

Tsukasa nearly dies right then and there. “A– A new stage?! You’re not demolishing the stages?!” He stammers out.

“Your show last night not only sold more tickets than all of our shows in the last year combined, but was also responsible for over forty-five percent of our total attendance’s decision to come to the park at all. That’s no small feat,” Shousuke explains, before sighing. “It would be stupid of us to not bring you guys on the team and continue the show program, really.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Shizuku breathes out, “Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

“I take it you all are accepting the job offer, then?”

The three sound out their agreement, nodding rapidly. 

“Great, now I have to put together more paperwork…” He groans, but points a warm smile to the troupe anyway, “Welcome to the Phoenix Wonderland family. Just make sure your shows keep bringing in audiences, alright?” His voice lowers, “Shizuku’s idol fame will only carry the spectacle for so long. People will grow tired of it eventually.”

As he walks out of the room, the three of them finally make eye contact. Tsukasa coughs, then offers, “I can tell Mizuki.”

“Ah… Is that a good idea?” Ichika lilts, holding a hand up.

After a moment’s hesitation, Tsukasa admits, “Last night, I discovered something… Something that I had forgotten about.” He looks between the two girls, gaze intense. “I need to keep performing. Not just for my stardom’s sake, but to keep S– everyone smiling. That’s what a show is really for, after all…”

“Tsukasa…” Shizuku gasps, eyes widening.

“I need to apologize to Mizuki.”

That’s how Tsukasa Tenma finds himself on the rooftop of Kamiyama High School in the early hours of a Monday morning, staring into the blank eyes of Mizuki Akiyama.

Mizuki speaks up first, “Why are you here? How the hell did you find me?” They ask, although it sounds more like an accusation. 

“This seems like a place of reprieve for you,” he answers. Seeing that they’re ready to run, he jumps straight into what he came there for. “We need to speak,” he states, low and firm. “Phoenix Wonderland offered the four of us official positions at a new stage they’re building. We’d all really like you to join us, you know.”

“Eh? Do I know?” Mizuki questions out loud. “You seemed mighty pissed at me just last night. Something about ‘ruining’ your chance at stardom, or whatever…”

“I should apologize,” he responds immediately, causing Mizuki to audibly gasp. “I was frustrated, yes, but the things I said… were not things I truly meant.”

Mizuki shuffles, stumbling back.

“I’m really sorry, Mizuki,” he confides. 

They slap a hand over their mouth, choking back a sob as their tears start to well up. Chuckling nervously, they jeer, “Most people just leave and don’t come back. What the hell are you doing, Tenma?”

“I’m apologizing, of course,” he responds, tone lifting with confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I’m…

I’m…

Mizuki looks through their bleary vision, staring into Tsukasa’s eyes. There’s no mockery, no malice, no pain. 

Before they realize, they’re falling forward, gasping for air in their senior’s arms. As they wail, Tsukasa wraps a strong arm around their back, rubbing in soothing circles.

“Damn it, Tenma, you made me cry!” They shout through their sobs, only to be shushed by the older boy.

“It seems like you needed it,” he chuckles back, holding them closer. Looking over their shoulder, he sees the sun peeking over the horizon, burning bright. With a sudden gasp, he pulls Mizuki away from his body.

“Eh?” The dazed junior mumbles out. Tsukasa grabs them by the shoulders, shaking them.

“How familiar are you with the myth of Amaterasu?”

“What?”

“That’s going to be our next show!” He beams, practically shaking with excitement. Seeing this, Mizuki giggles, wiping at their remaining tears.

“Never change, Tsukasa,” they hum, “Never change.”

A bunny-shaped plushie hovers overhead, looking out at the field before it. The shouts of a certain future star ring out above all else, even the current session of Miku’s acting class, where Len’s screeching exasperatedly at a concerned-looking Ichika. Beside Tsukasa, Shizuku and Kaito sit, gushing over the latest draft of their next show. Meanwhile, Mizuki lays in a bed of soft grass, using a particularly lazy plushie as a supportive pillow, lazily sketching away in their journal.

There’s not a single tear, nor frown, in sight.

Chapter Text

When I was little, I saw a production of The Little Mermaid . A certain world-renowned actress played the lead on that night, and it completely changed my life. She was able to convey such immense emotions with her voice alone. It was inspiring– I had never felt hope like that before. I was always such a quiet child, but I was ready to give up everything just for the chance to express myself in such a manner.

So, I joined a theater troupe, against every nerve in my body screaming at me to stop. I was so anxious, but still aced my audition, and was given the lead for the upcoming performance. I couldn’t disappoint my fellow actors, so I practiced every single day, for hours on end. There was nothing that I was going to let come between me and my dream.

Then, the night of our opening performance came. I fumbled, and fumbled hard. With the bright lights burning against me, I completely froze up. When I looked into the crowd, all I saw was disappointment and deriding. I couldn’t utter a single word. 

I haven’t sung in front of anyone else ever since. Somehow, I still feel that desire in me, all of my emotions bubbling up to the surface of my lips. However, I can never bring myself to try.

That was, until I discovered a certain music forum. There were so many people freely sharing their own creations, without the shackles of a real identity attached. Perhaps, I thought, this was how I could finally sing again.

“Hey, Toya. You’re still muted.”

A boy with split-colored hair looks up from his sandwich and stares with wide eyes at the screen before him. Quickly, he scrambles to fix his microphone settings.

“Sorry, was eating,” he muffles through a bite of bread and meat.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” The girl on the other side of the screen huffs.

“Sorry. I had to sneak this upstairs…”

“Mm. I guess it is late to be eating,” she states as straightforward as she always talks to him. “Let’s wrap up. I have class tomorrow.”

“Me too. Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time,” she confirms, exiting the call as soon as the words left her mouth. 

The boy stuffs the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, discarding the plate on top of a long-forgotten piano in the corner of his room. 

“Nene! You’re being loud, go to sleep!”

“Uu- sorry! I just got off, I will!” Nene shouts back, heat rising to her cheeks. She silently thanks whatever deity above saved her from getting reprimanded while in voice chat with her friend. If he had heard her mom… or her real name… she would simply have to delete all of her accounts and never touch the internet again out of embarrassment. 

Of course, she doesn’t actually go to sleep right away, even if that’s what she told Toya and her mom. The hours right after midnight are the best for mindless scrolling through social media, after all. This decision pays off, as a notification pings from the screen.

Oh, crap. Don’t fangirl. Don’t fangirl. This is so lame, it’s some internet rando. They’re probably a 30-something year old hikikomori, who cares if they make really good music– Nene shakes her head. Oh, just open the stupid message. 

YUKI: no thanks

The words bounce in Nene’s head. no thanks . They couldn’t even be bothered to use proper punctuation! Even when she was so polite and proper in her own initial message! Definitely a 30-something year old hikikomori , Nene affirms to herself. Hands hovering over the keyboard, she bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s not that she expected this person to ever accept her offer, nonetheless reply. They were the Yuki, after all. Everyone on the music forum was constantly talking about their work and slinging around their praises, Nene included. Of course they didn’t want to work with two strangers who never even posted their own music. Yet, something about that simple no thanks was crawling under Nene’s skin. Yuki couldn’t even feign politeness? Or give an explanation? Just tacking on a “sorry!” at the end would be enough to quell Nene’s disappointment. 

“Tch,” Nene whispers to herself, “Never meet your idols.” Her hands start moving on their own. 

“Yuki said no?”

“Yeah, just a ‘no thanks’. Nothing else,” Nene mumbles, tossing a chip in her mouth. 

“Well, it can’t be helped.” Toya steals a glance at the dusty piano in the corner of his eye and shakes his head. “Y’know, we can just do this ourselves.”

“Y’know,” she mocks his inflection, “we can’t. I can only sing, and you said you don’t know anything about making music anyway.” Toya freezes, his breath catching in his throat. Nene doesn’t seem to notice his lack of response, and continues on. “I don’t know who else to ask. Yuki was a complete shot in the dark but there’s no one else I’d want to work with… Ugh, I feel like I set myself up for disappointment by asking them.” 

“Did they give a reason for declining?” He asks sincerely. In return, Nene scowls, glaring at the screen as if her eyes could kill the boy on the other side of the call by sheer willpower alone. 

“I already said it was just a ‘no thanks’. Don’t ask stupid questions,” she retorts. 

“Well, did you ask why?” Nene swears if they had their webcams turned on, Toya would be shooting her a sly little smile at that moment. Apparently, her silence is all the answer he needs. “So you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” Nene snaps. “I don’t think Yuki would appreciate being questioned like that, anyway. Makes us look desperate, too,” she adds on. 

“Well, if you really want to sing again…” he says softly, trailing off, “That might help.”

And, god damnit, Nene really did want to sing again. Ever since she found the music forum, where anyone can post their music anonymously, without ever showing their face or real name, it’s been all she thinks about. Getting to sing again, without the pressure of a live audience, without the fear of messing up, since you can record and record until you get the perfect take, without the chance of stage fright ever ruining a single performance– it’s a dream come true for someone like Nene Kusanagi. That’s why she told Toya about her dream. In the middle of some game match, she blurted it out, and randomly asked him to check out the forum. When he questioned her interest in music afterwards, she let it all spill out– her stage fright, the disastrous performance, and her newly invigorated urge to sing again. And, by some miracle, he offered his help (or, what little of it he could provide) to her. 

Nene grips her controller hard enough to leave the imprint of its small grain on her soft hands. Red lights her computer screen as KILLED BY ATOYA flashes at her, as if to add insult to injury. “Hey, are you still there?” The boy asks her with no sense of malice or mockery tracing his words. 

“Mm. Sorry, ‘m not feeling well. I’m gonna head out now,” she mumbles without pausing long enough for a response, “We’ll talk tomorrow.” She clicks off the call and closes Nightcord completely. She looks up at the red death screen she left open, with her hand haphazardly hovering over her heart as if she was preparing to catch it when it eventually burst out of her chest. Nene knew Toya meant well, that was he was just trying to help her achieve her dream, but the mere idea of contacting Yuki again after such a firm rejection was going to send her into cardiac arrest. Against her better judgment, she opens the music forum, despite the fact that Yuki’s presence would be pervasive. 

Maybe I should just blacklist their name… Before the thought fully forms in Nene’s head, her eyes widen at the flood of text that rushes onto her screen. “Huh?”

Man, everyone needs to listen to that new Tori song right now. It’s seriously good stuff.

Tori? who the hell is that

looks like they just joined the forum. the song they posted is peak, though

Wow, this is some serious work. It kinda reminds me of Yuki, but maybe even better??

better than yuki is crazy praise, im gonna go listen now

I can see the similarities to Yuki, with the weird and dark material. I would say that Tori has a much clearer sense to it, while Yuki has this haziness to it.

EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING!! you can really tell what tori’s thinking and going through

The hazy feeling is part of Yuki’s charm, though.

i’d say it’s less charming and more directionless… like being edgy for edge’s sake or whatever

Yeah, I can see that.

enough about yuki, just appreciate tori’s banger!!

“T-Tori…?” Nene whispers to herself, apprehensively opening up the profile in question. There, one post with a YouTube link lays. Her breath catches as she opens up the video, and…

Oh.

Wow.

…

I have another DM to send. 

“Ah, Haruka! I’m really so sorry but I have a favor to ask-”

“It’s no issue, just say it,” Haruka cuts off her overly apologetic classmate, watching her blonde pigtails bounce as she bows her head. 

“Oh, okay! Could you deliver this form to the Archery Club? It’s for the upcoming Sports Festival and I would do it myself or ask Emu but we both already promised to meet up with-”

Haruka abruptly stands up, pushing her blue bangs out of her eyes. “It’s alright, Saki. I got it.” She takes the paper from the other girl’s hands without another word and turns to leave the classroom. 

“Oh– ah– thank you so much! I’ll repay you some day!” Saki shouts after her, waving her hands frantically despite Haruka’s back being turned towards her. As the other girl slides the door shut, her shoulders fall. “Minori said…” she shakes the train of thought out of her head, “I just hope she’ll be alright eventually.” With a worried sigh, Saki grabs her bag and starts her path to the rooftop. 

Down the hallway, Haruka clutches the Archery Club’s form to her chest. She pauses to rack her brain for club members she knows, but her memory comes up empty. Once again, she pushes her bangs out of her eyes. I really need a haircut , she grumbles to herself. Just a year ago, having her hair this unkempt would have gotten her in serious trouble. Yet, she almost finds herself pining to be scolded by one of her managers while her hairstylist trims at the split ends forming at her tips. Her bangs fall back over her eyes, the ends poking at her cornea. Haruka quickly shoves the hair away with an exasperated sigh. However, when she looks back at the hall in front of her, another figure appears from the stairwell. The girl’s purple ponytail is enough to let Haruka know who it is– Mafuyu Asahina, an exceptional student who is always helping others, a class representative and… a member of the Archery Club. A jolt of adrenaline shocks Haruka’s body into action at this memory, her mouth moving before she can comprehend what she’s even saying. 

“Excuse me, Asahina!” She freezes in place at her name, before turning on her heel with a warm smile spreading on her face. Haruka falters, thrown off by… something. “Uh, I have, uh,” she waves around the paper, trying to find the words, “A form! A form for the Archery Club.”

Mafuyu’s smile doesn’t drop at her junior’s awkwardness. “Oh, for the Sports Festival?” She asks, reaching out for the paper. Haruka drops it in her hand. 

“Right…” The blue-haired girl looks at the other’s face, noticing the dark circles underlining her twinkly eyes. The contrast was unsettling to Haruka, in some way. 

It’s just like… me?

No, this is Mafuyu Asahina. No way she’s like me. 

“Ah,” Haruka’s voice starts without thinking again, “were you up late studying?”

Mafuyu’s warm smile seems to widen with her eyes, rigidly sticking to place. “What do you mean?” She still asks sweetly. 

Haruka touches her own face, as if to show Mafuyu the area of effect. “You look a little pale and have dark circles under your eyes. I thought you may have been cramming, being such a good student and all,” she states earnestly. Even if Mafuyu was a bit intimidating, she was still a nice girl, and Haruka thought she would appreciate the honesty. 

The rigid smile stays anchored in place. “Oh, I just had some difficulty falling asleep last night, is all. Thank you for your concern, though!” She shakes her head. “Apologies, I have to head home now. Thank you for the form!” Mafuyu abruptly walks past Haruka, ponytail swishing as she heads towards the exit. Haruka turns to watch her leave as she inwardly reflects on their brief conversation.

That smile never broke, it only grew stronger, but… she couldn’t fake her eyes. They lost their shine as soon as I called her out. 

Mafuyu’s shadow disappears from sight.

It looked like there was a haziness to her expression. 

An expression that she had seen in her own reflection before. 

It was the day of ASRUN’s official disbandment. In some ways, Haruka was relieved. It was as if the pressure of a never-ending performance had been lifted so she could finally take her bow at curtain call. She wouldn’t have to fester in her own anxiety and guilt and force her shaky legs to just stand, for the love of god while on stage. Though, now there was no stage nor audience to give her that feeling ever again. Or any feelings ever again. 

“So… where do I go from here?” she whispered at the person in the mirror. 

She blinked back. There was no twinkle in her eye, the spark of hope a true idol should have. 

“It’s time I gave up on that dream,” she responded to no one. 

The girl in the mirror smiled sweetly at her. It didn’t reach her eyes. There was still no spark. Her eyes flickered over to a crack in the corner of the mirror. It was new to her perception, but ran down in a streak long enough to have been festering for quite some time. Absently, she wondered how long it had gone unnoticed. She picked up her phone and typed up a search into how to repair a cracked mirror. However, she looked back up at the crack, dull eyes blurred in the edge of her vision, and pressed backspace.

New mirrors on sale. 

The next day, former idol Haruka Kiritani would never stand on stage again, nor cut her hair, nor see an idol’s spark in her own eyes. She had a new mirror, though. A new mirror that she hated looking at, ducking whenever she passed by the messy part of her bedroom she had shoved it in. 

“Tori posted a new song.”

Nene looks up from her bowl of noodles. “Huh?”

“Weren’t you reprimanding me for talking while eating a few days ago?” Toya continues, “Tori. New song. It’s good.”

“Tori…” Nene mumbles while scourging her memory for a “Tori”. In a flash, the puzzle pieces in her brain click. She outwardly cringes as she recalls her exchange with Yuki and the following conversation with Toya that she had so desperately tried to shove into the forgotten archives of her mind. “Ah, Tori. Right, I’ll deafen real quick to listen.” She presses the button to do so and opens up Tori’s page before her friend could even begin to process her words. 

Tori’s song… Well, in the words of the great Sir Toya, is good, Nene decides. There’s a certain something that Nene can’t quite put her finger on about it. It’s similar in tone to Yuki’s music, but holds an air of prestige and sophistication to it. As if it’s been workshopped for a while, with Tori laboring over perfecting every small aspect of the song. Her notepad app taunts her from her computer’s taskbar. A politely-worded-yet-desperate draft of a message addressed to Tori sits in it, ready to be sent at a moment’s notice. The only thing keeping it locked away is Nene’s own fear of rejection, inflamed by what she’s dubbed the “Yuki Incident”. Not wanting to keep stewing on the subject, Nene undeafens.

“So?

“ So? ” Nene mocks.

“Did you like it?” Toya mumbles. Nene rolls her shoulders in an attempt to release some of her pent-up stress. No reason to take it out on him…

“Uh– yeah. Yeah. I did,” she matches his energy, or lack thereof. 

After a moment, he adds on, “Are you going to ask them?”

“Eh? Ask them what?” She spits back, although she already knows. Stupid Toya, she thinks, fingers curling around her mouse, I bet he already knows I drafted a message and everything. Tsk.

“You know what,” he lilts quietly, wheezing out a soft chuckle. 

Nene sighs loud enough for her microphone to pick up, opening up the discarded note in a new tab. “If this results in another Yuki incident, I’m tracking your IP and showing up at your door to fight you.”

“You’d be lucky if my dad even opens the door,” he shoots back.

Copying the text, Nene exhales.

“Kiritani? …Kiritani? ”

A light force pushes into Haruka’s arm, causing her to stir. Still, she doesn’t look up, much preferring to keep her head nestled between her warm, soft arms. 

“Kiritani, our teacher needs you…” 

That shoots shocks through Haruka’s body, making her jolt as she scrambles upwards. Through her bleary vision, a concerned frown of a black-haired classmate stares back at her.

Quickly, she whispers back to dispel the girl’s worries, “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night!” It isn’t a lie, but it’s not like she sleeps well any night, anymore. 

“Oh, I see,” the girl nods, then stretches out a hand with a vanilla folder full of papers in it. “Here, you were asked to deliver this to Class 2-B.”

Pushing herself out of her seat, Haruka stumbles as she takes the folder from her hand. “Got it,” she mutters before yawning. Looking around, the classroom has been mostly vacated, except for a few stragglers cleaning their desks or talking to their friends. With a sigh, she collects her bag and staggers out of the room, trailing down the hall to the closest stairwell. Pulling out her phone and opening it, she realizes that she’s still logged into her forum account. A red ping in the corner of the screen indicates a surmountable amount of notifications, making Haruka audibly gasp.

Glancing around, she makes sure no one’s nearby before stopping to look through the responses to her latest post.

It’s depressing, but good. Clearly Tori has a lot of experience with music.

they’re gonna surpass yuki if they keep putting this stuff out lol

right?? its so much better than yuki

“...Better than Yuki?” Haruka echoes in a whisper, brows furrowing. “Who’s…?”

Suddenly, a hand wraps around her shoulder, causing her to squeak and fumble to hide her phone.

“Ah, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” Turning around, Haruka stares right into the cold, hazy eyes of Mafuyu Asahina. “I was wondering why you were standing in the middle of the hallway,” she elaborates, hand still hovering in the air.

“Oh, um…” Haruka hesitates, reeling from being caught off-guard. “I’m supposed to deliver this folder to 2-B,” she explains, waving said folder in the air.

“I see, did you get lost?” Mafuyu offers with a hum, “I’m returning to my classroom right now, so I can lead you there.”

With a hum, Haruka nods, preferring not to explain what she was actually doing. Wordlessly, the two girls shuffle down the hallway, exchanging awkward glances when one thinks the other isn’t looking. Somehow, Haruka can’t shake the feeling that Mafuyu is bristling with some sort of unexplainable energy.

Is she… mad at me? No… Maybe nervous? But why…?

Suddenly, a bright light flashes from the phone in her hand, making both girls recoil. Quickly, Haruka fumbles to check her notifications, apologies spilling out of her mouth. As Mafuyu tries to reassure her, the phone emits another blinding white light that envelopes around the two. 

Apologizing profusely, Haruka frantically fidgets with her phone even through her shock, not noticing the sudden change in scenery surrounding her. With a gasp, Mafuyu grabs onto her shoulder, startling her out of her panic. However, her nerves are only further frayed by the realization of the new, unfamiliar ambience.

A bleak, never-ending void sits in every direction. The only form of decor, seemingly placed haphazardly along the darkened plane, are jagged platforms and metal battens. Low blue and purple lights reflect off the glossy surface of the floor. If Haruka had to guess where she is, she would assume it to be a strange, infinite stage wrecked by some form of disaster. The familiarity fills her stomach with uneasiness.

“Ah… Do you know where…?” Mafuyu questions, but trails off when she meets the other girl’s wide eyes. Biting her lip, she amends, “How about we stay close together for now?”

“Mafuyu. Haruka,” a monotone voice calls out as a ragged figure stumbles forward from the distance. Watching as the girl’s silhouette becomes filled out by the lights as she approaches, Haruka grabs onto her senior’s arm.

From her side, Mafuyu speaks up, “Are you…” The girl draws nearer, tattered skirt swaying with an invisible wind. “Miku?”

“Huh?” Haruka squeaks, whipping her head to meet the solemn look on Mafuyu’s face. Staring into her eyes, she only sees the reflection of the lights.

“Mafuyu…” The girl repeats, toneless. “You’ve met someone, but…” As she trails off, her head tilts to the side. Her dichromatic eyes stare ahead, blank. With a shiver, Haruka realizes that the two other girls reflect each other’s strangely empty presence, leaving her with an unwelcome feeling.

“You’re still alone.”

Gently, Haruka tugs at Mafuyu’s cardigan sleeve. As if she were pulled out from a daze, Mafuyu gasps and shakes her head, returning back to reality with her usual smile and blushed cheeks pointed at her junior. It’s a stark contrast to the almost scary, dark haze that had crossed her face only moments prior.

With the change, Miku hums a low tone, clasping her hands together. “You should both leave.”

“Wait, what?! Where are we, anyway?” Haruka gasps out, grip on the cardigan growing tighter.

“Mmm…” Miku hesitates, eyelids fluttering as if she’s about to pass out. Mafuyu takes a step forward, preparing to catch the girl if need be. “Mafuyu’s SEKAI, of course. A place born from one’s feelings.”

“This is an awfully cold place, though. It’s quite lonely,” Haruka observes, eyes burning holes into the back of Mafuyu’s head. She doesn’t look back.

“I suppose that is how you see Mafuyu’s true feelings, then,” Miku replies flatly, “Though, I would have thought you would find some comfort here…”

“Hm?”

“After all, you share some of those same feelings, right?”

Before she can string together a response, the world flashes and dissipates before her.

Back in the school hallway, Haruka comes to, still clinging onto her senior’s sweater. Sputtering out an apology, she stumbles back.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Mafuyu beams back, waving her head. “That was quite strange, wasn’t it?” Her eyes crease as she smiles, but it just feels empty to Haruka now.

“Heh, yeah…” She chuckles nervously, looking down at her phone to avoid looking at Mafuyu’s strained smile anymore.

“Oh, is that the time?” The older girl peers over, making Haruka instinctively shuffle back. “I should go, my mom will be upset if I arrive home too late.” As she starts to step away, she shoots her another smile, as if it would erase any memories of that horrid, forlorn place. “I’ll see you around, Kiritani!”

“I’m home!” Mafuyu calls out, carefully closing the door behind her. As she slides her shoes off, the savory scent of a fresh meal being cooked floods her senses. Ambling into the kitchen, she finds her mother standing over the stove, sauteing vegetables.

At Mafuyu’s entrance, her mother turns her attention from the food to her daughter. Without a welcome, she interrogates, “Aren’t you home late? What were you doing?”

Mafuyu picks at the skin by her nails. “I was helping out a younger student.”

“Hm? Are you tutoring the other girls again?” She turns back to the stove, stirring the dish with a spoon. “It’s admirable of you, but I thought I told you to focus more on yourself since there are important exams coming up.” 

“No, it wasn’t that…” She fidgets with her uniform’s bow.

“Then what?” 

“She was looking for a classroom, so I showed her the way.” 

“I see. Still, should that take so long that you come home late?”

Mafuyu doesn’t dare mention the SEKAI, nor the fact that it’s not even evening yet. “I’m sorry. We talked for some time, as well.”

“Hmm…” Her mother sets the spoon down, turning back around. “Who was the girl, then?”

“Haruka Kiritani,” Mafuyu replies, breath hitching under the scrutinizing gaze of her mom, “She’s in Class 1-C.”

“Is that so?” She mumbles, “That name sounds familiar… Have you mentioned her before?”

Mafuyu shakes her head. “No, I’ve only met her once before.” Seeing her mom’s face scrunch up, clearly unsatisfied with the answer, she quickly blurts out, “She’s somewhat new to the school, though! She was previously a famous idol.”

“An idol?” Her mom echoes with a hum. “Ah, that’s where I’ve heard her name before. There was a news segment about her leaving some music group the other day.”

“I see,” Mafuyu notes, clasping her hands tightly over her stomach. Her mother turns back around, but her discontented glare stays burned in her vision. She can’t tell why she’s suddenly nauseous.

“I would prefer that you don’t waste your time on people like that,” her mom continues. Mafuyu chokes back a gasp. “If you surround yourself with quitters, then you’ll fall into the same mindset. That girl is nothing like you. She’ll lead you down a bad path.”

Mafuyu presses down onto her stomach, swallowing bile. A certain voice rattles her skull– “After all, you share some of those same feelings, right?”

Suddenly, her mom twists her neck around, pointing a jagged smile down at her daughter. “We can’t have that happening now, can we?”

Mafuyu shakes her head. “No, not at all.”

“Oh, crap–!” Nene hisses, scrambling into an upright position on her chair.

“Did something happen?” Toya asks from behind the screen, words rushed with worry.

“No, no,” she assures, then bites her tongue. “Actually, yes– Tori responded!” She bleats, re-reading the message over and over again to make sure it won’t disappear into a hazy hallucination if she looks away.

Toya’s silent for a moment. Then, he probes, “...Is that a bad thing?”

“N– No, just– Ugh, help me write back!”

With a barely-audible chuckle, Toya replies, “What did she say?”

Nene clears her throat before relaying the message plastered across her screen, “‘Hey! Sorry for the late response, I just got back home from school. I’m interested in discussing more on the topic of collaborating together. Are you available to talk tonight?’”

“Woah, so formal…” He breathes out, leaning away from his microphone.

“I mean, that’s better than whatever Yuki was doing,” Nene scoffs, rolling her eyes. “So, how do I respond?”

“Erm… If she wants to talk, maybe we should invite her to the call?”

“Alright,” Nene nods, typing out a message inviting Tori to join their private Nightcord server. Exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her tense muscles relax. “Okay, sent,” she confirms to Toya.

Moments later, she nearly jumps out of her seat when the familiar ping of a new caller reverbs in her ears.

“Hello?” The rich voice calls out, somewhat muffled by their microphone. Nene looks at their username– Tori.

Crap, crap…!

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” Toya greets in Nene’s stead, polite as ever. 

“It’s nice to meet you both, too!” Tori responds. Her voice is warm, and it’s as if her glowing smile can be felt from beyond the screen.

“R– Right,” Nene stammers out, “Is there anything specific you wanted to talk about, or…?”

“Oh, um… I was mostly looking to get to know you guys,” she admits. “Have you made any music before, or is this your first time?”

Shuffling in her seat, Nene explains sheepishly, “We have some demos, but nothing complete. That’s why we’re looking for more group members, actually… Neither of us have any real experience with song production.”

“Oh? That’s interesting,” Tori muses.

Immediately jumping on the defensive, she huffs, “Why so?”
“I just think it’s cool that you want to make music despite your lack of experience,” she divulges, “It’s nice that you’re chasing your dreams.” A small hum punctuates the sentiment, and Nene can’t help but feel a hint of regret tinging it. “Anyway, you said that you have some demos, right? Could you send them over?”

“Oh, uh, y– yeah,” Nene scrambles to open her files, searching over her mess of a library for the right folder. “I’ll put them in the chat.”

“Okay! I’m going to deafen to listen real quick,” Tori voices, leaving the original duo alone once again.

“How do you feel?” Toya breaks the silence.

Brow furrowing, Nene answers, “Huh? Fine…?” 

“You seemed a bit nervous talking to her,” he notes.

“I’m nervous talking to everyone,” she utters back, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Toya doesn’t respond, the only sound coming from his side being the sound of his keyboard clicking. 

Suddenly, Tori rejoins, beaming, “If you want my honest opinion, I like what you’re going for.”

“Really?” Nene questions, feeling her chest swell at the compliment.

“Mhm! It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how it feels, but listening to it… I felt something resonate with me. Also, are you sure you’ve never composed a song before?”

“Oh, Toya did the composition,” she notes.

This time, he’s the one stuttering in response, “N– No, I haven’t.”

“Do you have any musical training? There’s something about–”

“No, I don’t,” he cuts her off firmly. Nene recoils, never having heard the mild-mannered boy speak with such aggression. A shaky breath rasps from his mouth, and he blurts out, “Sorry, I have to go now.” Quickly, the chime of a caller leaving pings from Nightcord.

Shocked, Nene sits frozen in front of her computer. What the hell was that about?

“Oh, it is getting late,” Tori acknowledges, either ignoring or oblivious to Toya’s outburst. “I should get going soon, since I have school tomorrow. Let’s talk more tomorrow!”

Looking at the corner of the screen, Nene reads the time– 25:00. With a nod, she agrees, “Yeah, I have class, too. See you tomorrow.”

“Oh, wait!” Tori gasps, leaving Nene’s mouse hovering over the disconnect button. “What school do you go to?”

“Sorry, I don’t want to say,” she quickly replies, “I think I’d rather die than let anyone at my school know I’m doing this.”

The school bell rings, signaling the students’ lunch break. With a sigh of relief, Nene reaches to take her phone out of her bag, giddy excitement bubbling in her chest.

Finally, I can finish watching the show I started last night!

Hunching over her desk, Nene uses her body to shield the screen from reflecting the overhead lights. As soon as she unpauses the video, the actors spring to life, dancing across the stage. Their extravagant costumes glitter with the stage lights, feathers fluttering along with the performers’ graceful movements. Suddenly, the camera pans up, revealing a songstress dressed in flowing, white silks and silver jewels. All of the other lights dim, leaving only the diva alit at center stage. Nene closes her eyes, letting her song waver through her ears. It’s not just beautiful, or elegant– it’s utter perfection. In her head, Nene melts away the woman’s face, sealing her own image over it.

“Oh…” A soft voice rouses from behind her. She ignores it, trying to fully absorb herself in her fantasies.

Still, the voice persists, “What are you watching?” 

Nene gasps, dropping her phone out of her hands. The owner of the voice, a boy in her class with sharp eyes and two-toned hair, stands behind her, looking down at her. 

H– He spoke! I don’t think I’ve heard him speak before…

Nene swallows down her shock to respond, albeit meekly, “M– Musical…”

“Ah, I see…” He exhales, unmoving from his position. Seeing that he’s not going to budge, but unwilling to start a fight, Nene turns back around with a sigh. 

Picking her phone back up, she presses play on the recording. The diva’s crooning emits through the room, occasionally interrupted by hums and gasps from the boy still standing behind Nene. Feeling his eyes burning into her back, the woman’s face stays firmly in place.

Choking back her fear, Nene whips around to face the boy again. “Does– Does this interest you?”

He doesn’t seem taken aback at all, but rather firmly intrigued. “Yeah. The music, at least…”

“...”

“...”

Aw, jeez!

Clumsily, Nene fumbles through her bag, looking for a spare piece of paper. Picking out an incomplete note sheet, she tears a strip from its bottom. She scribbles out the title of the show, and shoves it into the boy’s hands. “Take this!”

Now, he looks back startled. “What is it?”

“I can’t focus with you around. Search up the show, watch it yourself,” she explains bluntly, turning around to avoid his gaze any further.

Still, the boy returns with no hostility, “Got it. Thank you!” Finally, his quiet mumblings are replaced with the sound of his footsteps slowly growing farther away.

Content, Nene hums to herself. However, as soon as she goes to replay the song, a notification pops out from the top of the screen.

Huh? A Nightcord notification during the day? And… from Tori? Confused, she quickly opens the message. 

Tori: Hey guys! I couldn’t sleep last night, so I ended up throwing together a mix of one of the demos you sent me last night. I was wondering if you wanted to give it a listen, and maybe post it as our group’s debut? Let me know!

A file sits attached at the bottom of the text, which Nene hesitantly opens. Suddenly, her own voice blares out from her phone. 

“Crap, no!” She squeals, rushing to pause the song. God forbid someone I know hears this…

Suddenly, a new message appears across the screen.

ATOYA: Sounds good. I’m okay with posting it.

Nene bristles, shuffling in her seat. Well, if everyone else wants to…

MERNE: post it

Slipping off her shoes, Mafuyu calls out, “I’m home!” However, no response greets her.

Concern rippling through her, she steps into the kitchen. On the table, a small note in her mother’s handwriting reads, 

Hello Mafuyu,

I had an unexpected emergency call from a colleague of mine. I may not be home until later this evening. Please feel free to prepare your own dinner. Follow your schedule as usual, otherwise.

Staring back at the piece of paper, a growing sense of panic begins to gnaw at Mafuyu’s body. She’s always had a strict, unforgiving schedule, based around her mother’s own. Sudden changes like this were rare, practically nonexistent. She hugs her stomach again– she’s nauseous. 

Stumbling up to her room, Mafuyu falls into the seat at her desk. It creaks as she sits, but if she were to ask her mom for a new chair, she would just tell her to study at the dining table. Mafuyu can’t afford to give up what little freedom she has, so she deals with the old, uncomfortable chair. 

Before starting up her computer, she takes a moment to scan her surroundings. Her room is untouched, so it’s unlikely her mom snooped around or placed any form of surveillance in her absence. There’s no familiar creaking of her dad walking down the hall, or sizzling pans from her mom in the kitchen. The Asahina house is completely empty, save for Mafuyu herself.

It’s scary.

Opening the music forum, a dark, black box in the middle of the screen catches Mafuyu’s attention immediately. Tilting her head, she hovers her mouse over the post. It’s unusual for someone to post a song without a flashy or unique thumbnail, nonetheless for a post like that to reach the top page. She clicks, letting the soft piano opening chime through her room. Nodding along to the beat, she scrolls down to look at the comments.

yo, new Tori song!!!!!

It’s not just Tori, theres two others in the credits

Mafuyu gasps to herself, looking at the poster’s username. Sure enough, it’s Tori. Of course, that’s why it’s on the front page, she realizes. Ever since that person appeared on the forum, neither of them have been able to post their respective music without getting a swarm of comments comparing the two songwriters. 

yuki hasnt posted in a while. do you think shes scared of tori? lmao

if i was yuki i would’ve just retired after tori’s first post. no coming back from that

Tori’s working in a group now, so Yuki has two new competitors as well!

It’s not like Yuki’s work was ever good anyway. Tori and these new guys can at least produce a song that doesn’t like a cat drowning.

this new group is like yuki if yuki was good

jesus christ yuki cant catch a break lmao

The rickety chair slams against the floor as Mafuyu jumps up, cupping her hands over her mouth to stop the bile from leaking out of her mouth. Trying to swallow it back down, she instead chokes on its acidity. It burns, and it’s the most sensation she’s felt in years.

Somehow, that makes her feel better.

She stumbles backwards, tripping over a solid figure on the ground. With a small gasp, she realizes she had knocked her phone to the floor. Panicking, she quickly looks it over for any damage. If she broke her phone, then she’d have to ask her mom for a new one, and she’d look through her apps, and–

Mafuyu takes a deep breath, hugging her phone to her chest. 

Right. I’ll go there…

A hand strokes through Mafuyu’s hair, brushing against her forehead. It feels cold. She doesn’t shudder.

“Mafuyu…” A low voice drones. It feels distant, but Mafuyu knows it’s right above her.

“I loved music,” Mafuyu whispers, glazed eyes facing the neverending void, “I loved it.”

“I know, Mafuyu…”

“Is it human nature to compare? Why can’t I live without the weight of others?” 

“...”

“You know, my mom always compares me to my younger self.”

“I know…”

“I was so sweet when I was younger, I think. That’s what she tells me. I’m a bad child now. But, I swore I was a bad child in my youth, as well…?”

“Is that what she told you?”

Ignoring the girl above her, Mafuyu laments, “I can’t even live without the weight of myself.” With a sigh, she adds, “I want to be weightless.”

“...”

“I can feel it in my throat. It’s coming from my stomach. I feel like I’m going to vomit every moment of the day.”

“Mafuyu…”

“I’m not… I’m not…”

“Please…”

“I’m not Tori, and I’m not Yuki,” she exhales, “I don’t think I’m Mafuyu either.”

Gently placing the broom back in the closet, Haruka turns on one heel to retrieve her bag from her desk.

Suddenly, a voice calls out from the doorway, “Hey, Haruka! Asahina’s not here today, so our tutoring got canceled.” A trio of girls are huddled together, peering at the former idol with hopeful eyes. “Wanna go to a new cafe that opened in the mall? I heard they have amazing mochas!”

Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Haruka asks, “Asahina’s absent?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is the first time she’s missed school ever ,” one of the girls asserts, pigtails bouncing as she nods her head.

“I hope she’s not sick, but…” Another girl perks up, “I’m glad she missed today, so we could go out! So, Haruka, are you coming?”

“Oh, um…” She hums, looking away from her classmates. Already moving towards the other exit, she blurts out, “Sorry, I already have plans!”

Nene hums a tune to herself, stirring the hot chocolate in her mug as she opens Nightcord. To her surprise, Toya and Tori are already on call together, despite it being thirty minutes before their agreed meeting time. Sighing, she grabs her headphones, entering the call herself.

“Oh, hello!” Tori immediately beams, to which she mumbles out a similar greeting.

“Ah, I was just showing Tori a song I composed last night. Do you want me to send it to you too?” Toya asks.

“Mhm, show me,” Nene mumbles, sipping from her mug. Almost immediately, a private message from him appears with a file attached. She clicks on it, and the song starts playing.

It’s rough, but that’s expected for a demo. Ah, but… Huh?

A familiar melody stands out to her, making her rack her brain for where she recognizes it from. Then, with a gasp, she realizes, This is from the musical I watched the other day! The songstress’ big solo– it’s from the chorus!

“Merne, is everything okay?” Tori asks, her tapping nails audible over the call.

Nene stutters back, “Ah, um, y– yeah! I just… I thought that the, um, the sample sounds familiar–”

However, before she can finish talking through her nerves, the computer screen suddenly flashes out. With a squeal, Nene covers her eyes, recoiling. From Nightcord, she hears the other two gasp as well. Recovering, she looks back to the screen, and immediately jumps back.

The face of a girl, with cold, wide eyes is staring at her.

“Toya, did you put a fucking screamer in that demo file?!” Nene shouts, taking cover behind her chair.

Despite the girl taking over the screen, Toya is still able to respond, “N– No? What’s…”

Tori interjects, “Are you guys seeing this girl too?”

“Please, help…” The girl rasps, reaching a hand out.

“H– Help how?” Toya stammers. A rustling sound emits from his microphone.

“Come…” The image of the girl fizzles, glitching, “Quickly…”

“Huh? Where, exactly?” Tori questions, voice growing louder as she leans towards her screen.

Suddenly, a low voice shouts muffled from Toya’s side. The girl gasps, and Nene’s screen quickly blinks back to her regular desktop. 

“What was that…?” She whispers, slowly crawling out from behind her chair. Still, a conversation carries on from Toya’s room. It’s hazy, and keeps cutting out, but Nene can still hear some of it.

“Dad, what are you…”

“You covered your piano… Seriously, what are you…”

“I don’t…”

“...Your training… Such a waste, since your brothers…”

Then, Toya shouts, a feat Nene didn’t even know he was capable of, “ Get out! ” 

There are footsteps. A door slams. Someone’s breathing.

“...I didn’t mute,” Toya whispers.

“No, you didn’t,” Nene confirms, hesitantly. “Was that your dad?”

“Yeah, just–” He cuts himself off, sighing. “Just ignore that. It happens sometimes.”

Suddenly, Tori chimes in, “He mentioned a piano? Do you play?”

“Not anymore,” he cooly replies.

“Oh, I was just wondering–”

“Sorry, I should go,” he blurts out, and leaves the call without another word.

Nene and Tori sit in silence.

Trudging up the stairs, Haruka tugs her back against her body. She keeps her head down, trying not to attract the attention of any of her peers. Her only mission is to get to Class 2-B, and speak with Mafuyu Asahina.

Miku appeared to us last night. She wanted our help, but didn’t tell us what to do. She’s from Mafuyu’s SEKAI, so maybe she knows what’s going on…

“Ah, Haruka, what are you doing in the second-year wing?”

Great, I’m being stopped.

Plastering a smile on her lips, Haruka turns to face her obstacle. Looking down at her is the tall, slim figure of another former idol, Shizuku Hinomori.

“Shizuku, it’s great to see you again!” She greets kindly, clasping her hands together. “I’m looking for Asahina. Have you seen her?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she mewls, “Mafuyu’s absent today. It’s such a shame, since we have Archery Club today.”

She’s absent again? How is that possible?

“I see. Thank you, Shizuku!” Haruka bows, turning around. “I’ll see you around!”

Miku came to us for help, even though it’s Mafuyu’s SEKAI…

“Oh,” Haruka gasps, stopping in the middle of the stairwell, “I see.”

In the middle of nowhere, a young girl lays over a keyboard. White pigtails fall over her form, a girl humming a grating tune over her.

Nene slides the classroom window up, and grabs the chalkboard erasers from the sill. Scrunching her face up, she quickly claps them together, dispelling the remaining dust.

“Ugh, blegh,” she groans, looking over the chalk now laying over her uniform blazer. Turning around to place the erasers back at the board, she notices her cleaning duty partner standing near the back, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

“Hmm…” She mulls over the pros and cons of bringing him back to reality, then settles on the fact that she would rather go home sooner rather than later. “Hey, um…!” She calls out to him, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Ah– Sorry!” He quickly apologizes with a gasp.

“It’s alright,” she assures him. “Sleepless night?”

“Yeah, kinda,” he mumbles, “...Had a fight with my dad.”

Without thinking, a hand flies up to Nene’s heart. “Are you okay?” She asks, then quickly falters. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry!”

“No, no! It’s okay,” he answers, “I brought it up anyway. Yeah, I’m fine now.”

Nene sighs, nodding towards the ground. Despite his politeness, she still doesn’t look up to meet his gaze, feeling embarrassed over the conversation.

Then, Toya speaks back up, “Thank you for recommending that musical to me, by the way. I found it highly inspiring.”

“Eh?”

“The music was quite complex, so I ended up looking up the sheet music and studying it.” Now, he bashfully looks away from her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like that. Though, it felt invigorating, not stressful, this way.”

“Hm? Is music normally stressful for you?” 

“Yes, actually,” he admits, “My father trained me in classical music, but he was a strict and unrelenting teacher. Music became a burden for me, so I quit against his wishes.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. Things have been better for me as of recently.” A whisper of a smile crosses his face, as he shares, “I’ve met someone who’s really passionate about singing for others. She’s inspired me to start making music again.”

“Is it not stressful anymore?” Nene asks.

“No, not when it’s for my friends,” Toya responds, matter-of-fact.

Sitting down at her desk, Haruka pulls up Nightcord, preparing for the group’s now nightly call. The other two are already in the voice chat together, so she takes a deep breath, preparing to divulge her discovery. Once ready, she clicks, joining the call.

“Hey, Tori,” Merne greets, although she doesn’t sound very excited. “Have you looked at the forum today?”

Haruka leans forward, growing concerned. “No, not yet. Why? Did something happen?”

“A new account popped up and started posting some songs. All of them are like, really weird and disturbing, though,” she explains, voice wavering as she reflects on the contents.

“Huh? Do you have a link?” Haruka asks, voice lilting.

“Mhm, here.” The chat scrolls up, the link to the account– OWN – appearing. Quickly, she opens it, pulling open the latest upload.

A distorted, dissonant mash of different sounds assaults Haruka’s ears. The vocals are muffled and hazy, but ring familiar. It’s grotesque, and oozes with misery. She turns it off.

“Wh– What was that?” She shudders, eyes wide.

“I don’t know! It’s really disturbing, especially if you listen to the lyrics,” Merne notes.

“It sounds like a goodbye,” Toya states blankly, cutting through the girls’ growing stress.

“A goodbye?” Haruka echoes, voice weak. In the reflection of her screen, she swears she can see Mafuyu’s dead eyes piercing into her. Panicking, she blurts out, “Guys, I know who OWN is!”

“Eh? Seriously?!”

“Yes, and it’s Yuki!” She yelps, “Who is Mafuyu Asahina, a girl at my school!”

“W– Wait!” Toya interjects, “How do you know this?”

Faltering, Haruka slows down, “Well, I don’t know for sure, but… I have a hunch!” Before the others can pick apart her logic, she shouts, “We need to go to the SEKAI!”

“The… The what?” He mumbles back.

“The SEKAI!” Haruka exclaims, running out of breath, “Do you remember that girl from the other night? That asked us to help? That’s Miku, from Mafuyu’s SEKAI! She was asking us to help save Mafuyu, and now she posted that song, and, oh–”

“Hey, Tori, calm down,” Toya’s warm calls out to her, “If you want us to help, you have to tell us how to get to this SEKAI.”

“Seriously, you’re gonna listen to her?” Merne scolds, but it’s half-hearted.

“Um, you guys should have a song called Untitled on your phones,” she explains, “If you play it, you can go to the SEKAI.”

“Mm…” Toya hums, the faint noise of rattling coming from his side. “You’re right… I see Untitled.”

Merne gasps, “Eh? Wh– What… Me too…”

“Good, good!” Haruka squeaks, grabbing her own phone, “Meet me there, we need to hurry!”

“W– Wait!” Merne yelps, but it’s too late. Haruka presses play.

“Where are we?!” A green-haired girl shouts, clasping her hands over her heart. Dizzily, she tries to take in her surroundings, but there’s nothing but endless, dimly lit void to observe.

“Ah, Merne, is that you?” Toya steps forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. She spins around to meet him, and both of them immediately recoil.

“Crap! I knew it was you…” She hisses, looking away.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He questions, “We’re in the same class, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, you’re Toya Aoyagi, right?” When he nods back, Nene mumbles to herself, “Ugh, I should’ve pieced that together way sooner. Your username is literally ATOYA .”

Suddenly, a new figure bounds up to them, joining the conversation. Frantically, she asks, “Have you seen Mafuyu? Purple hair, usually up in a ponytail?”

“N– No, we just got here…” Nene looks away. “Um, aren’t you… H–”

“Yes, I am,” she cuts her off, “You can call me Haruka, but just… Don’t bring up the past. Okay?”

“Okay,” Nene quickly nods, “You can call me Nene, then.”

As the conversation lulls, the distant sound of a strange humming resounds through the SEKAI. With a gasp, Haruka points in the direction of the noise.

“Quick, that way!” She grabs onto the other two, pulling them across the plane despite their protests.

After a bit of running, she finds the figures of two girls, the humming growing louder with every step. “Mafuyu, Miku!” She shouts, making the huddled-together pair look up.

“Haruka, Nene, Toya…” Miku observes, looking at the trio. “You came…” At her lap, Mafuyu lays, clutching her keyboard to her chest. 

“Asahina, what’s going on?” Haruka asks, huffing as she catches her breath. The girl’s grip on her keyboard noticeably tightens, but there’s no verbal response.

Then, Nene steps forward. “Are you Yuki?” She probes, “Or, are you OWN?”

“Annoying,” Mafuyu utters, voice gravelly. She doesn’t move from the floor, letting Miku aimlessly stroke her hair. “Is that why you’ve come here? Yes, I am. Does that bother you?”

“N–No,” Haruka promises, “We’re worried about you. Please, let us help you.”

“Help…?” Suddenly, she untangles her arms from her instrument, crawling up to her feet. As she staggers upwards, her hair falls in front of her face. She makes no effort to move it. Her frigid eyes pierce through Haruka, a burning vexation dancing in her irises despite their icy quality. “I don’t need your help. Get out of my world and leave me alone.”

“Huh? But… You can’t just stay here!” Haruka persists, “There’s so many people that need you, Asahina. Don’t give up on them.”

Mafuyu squints, an eerie, little smile twitching at her lips. “Huh? So I should return for everyone else’s sake?”

“Well…”

“So I can continue falling from the pedestals they’ve placed me on? So I can keep being their point of comparison? So I can keep getting pushed around?”

“That’s not what I meant, Asahina!” She argues back, “You can’t live a fulfilling life in here. You need the support of others to find what you’re looking for!”

Mafuyu shakes her head, icy-hot gaze unwavering from the girl across from her. “There’s nothing for me in the real world. There is no real ‘Mafuyu Asahina’, so there’s no point in going back,” she explains. Her smile twitches as a dark shadow crosses over her brow. “I don’t need some ex-idol without a dream telling me how to live my life. You’re just like everyone else.”

Immediately, Haruka cups a hand over her mouth, stepping back. A warm hand catches her shoulder, but she doesn’t look back.

From her side, Nene pipes up, “So you’re just going to live here forever and occasionally post songs as OWN? Why?”

“I want to be alone,” Mafuyu responds coolly, “There’s nothing that can save me out there, so I’ll find it here. I’ll give up everything to find my true self– I’ll even disappear.”

“D– Disappear? What are you talking about?” Nene gasps, clutching her hands together.

However, she seems to grow more inflamed by the question. “You know what I mean,” Mafuyu hisses, “You all want to disappear as well.”

“Eh?”

“Whatever, I’m tired.” Blankly, she turns to look down at Miku. “I don’t want these people in my SEKAI. Get them out,” she orders.

The Vocaloid hums out an affirmation, picking herself up off the floor. Wordlessly, she raises a hand, stumbling towards the trio. As she places her cold hand onto Haruka, she whispers, “Don’t give up, either.”

When Haruka’s vision returns, she’s sitting back at her desk. Startling back to her senses, she rushes to open Nightcord, but finds that she’s still in the call. 

“Wh– What just happened?!” A panicked voice rings out from her headphones.

“Nene, are you okay?” She frets, nearly jumping out of her chair.

“Um, yes,” the suddenly meek girl answers, “I’m just a little freaked out, I guess.”

Haruka breathes out a sigh of relief. “I get that. I can’t believe she said that stuff.” Looking at the server’s sidebar, she gasps, “Hey, where’d Toya go?”

“Oh, huh,” Nene pauses, then clicks her tongue, “I… don’t know.”

Staggering into the classroom, Nene tugs at the bow around her neck. It’s tied looser than she normally wears it, but it still feels suffocating. She hasn’t been able to breathe quite right since last night.

A certain boy sits near the center of the room, at his regular desk. With a huff, Nene makes a deadline straight towards him.

“Hey, where have you been?” Pulling a chair over, she sits down at his side. 

“Hm? Class hasn’t even started yet,” Toya replies blankly.

“No, idiot,” she hisses in a low-whisper, “Last night. You didn’t rejoin the call after– after that stuff happened.”

“Oh, um,” he whispers back, tapping his foot against the floor, “It’s a bit hard to explain.”

“Was it your dad again?” She guesses.

“No, not–” He suddenly cuts himself off, sighing. “Actually, I suppose in a way, it was.”

Concerned, Nene raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Toya looks down at her shoes, inhaling deeply. After pausing for a moment, he admits, “What Yuki said last night… I couldn’t help but understand.”

Eyes widening, Nene clutches her skirt and leans forward. “Understand what? ”

“There’s a reason I lied to you about having no musical experience. I can’t even touch a piano without freezing up. Every time I hear someone playing the violin, it feels like I’m being shot through the head,” he explains, voice quiet, “My dad ruined that for me.”

“T– Toya…”

“I still get aches in my hands. Randomly, too. He used to force me to play well beyond my physical capabilities. On bad days, it’s like I’ve never stopped. I can still feel the keys on my fingertips, and it hurts.”

Stunned into silence, Nene’s grip on her skirt tightens. “Why– Why are you telling me this…?” She finally breathes out.

Reaching out, Toya plants a warm hand onto her knee. “Yuki’s hurting. She’s been pushed to her breaking point by the people around her,” he states, “ She thinks she’ll find reprieve in her loneliness, but that’s just not true.” Pausing, he swallows, then clears his throat. With a faint blush brushing at his cheeks, he timidly adds, “I was only able to start making music again thanks to you.”

Shocked, Nene’s head snaps up to look at him. “Wait, what–”

Ignoring her, he continues, “We need to keep reaching out to her. If we just leave her in that place, things will only get worse…”

“Then, what do we do?”

Solemnly, he responds, “I’m not sure.”

Sipping on her tea, Haruka scrolls down the forum. Reading over the latest comments on the group’s debut, she hums as she takes in the praise and criticism. Nene and Toya are debating something about some game, she has no idea what, over Nightcord. Every so often, she giggles at an especially snarky dig from the girl, or obliviously naive comment from the boy. Setting her cup down, she navigates back to the front page.

Immediately, she gasps.

“Guys!” She calls out, “OWN just uploaded a new song!”

“Seriously?” Nene groans, “She’s still uploading stuff after everything?”

“Maybe this is how she intends to find her ‘true self’?” Toya ponders, but is immediately shut down.

“How is throwing herself out there to get mocked by the droves of the Internet supposed to help?” Nene mumbles. 

Ignoring their squabbling, Haruka presses play on the new song. It takes everything in her not to close the tab immediately. It’s worse , she thinks, She’s getting worse.

“I… I think we’re running out of time,” she outwardly frets, voice shaky. “We need to save her, but…”

“...Tomorrow will be a better day. Hold on to hope and keep working hard, and I’m sure things will get better.”

The poor girl looked so hopeful. Her face lit up immediately. Every time Haruka said those words, it was like waving a magic word that could dispel even the worst of worries.

“H– Haruka…!” She exclaimed, running in for a hug. Those were the last words Haruka ever heard her say without a deep rasp infecting her voice. Her own name. It was disgusting.

After the girl’s voice finally gave out, she spent a week in the hospital. Haruka was her first groupmate to visit her.

Much to Haruka’s shock, she spoke to her. Not only that, but she screamed. Oh, she screamed so much.

“You said hope was all I needed!”

“My dream of being an idol… Give it back!”

Haruka had failed her. She had stolen that girl’s dream, and found herself unable to give it back. Yet, it stained her hands. She tried to wipe it off, she tried to force it off, but it stayed. A reminder of her failure, a reminder to never help again. 

Some days, she had to physically restrain herself from getting involved in other’s problems. It seemed natural to her, to want to spread hope, but she can’t do that anymore. She couldn’t bear to steal any more dreams. 

“Haruka? Are you there?”

With a start, Haruka snaps back to her bedroom. “S–Sorry, what?” She gasps out.

“Oh, I was just making sure you were okay,” Toya mutters, “Sorry for using your real name, but you weren’t responding to Tori…”

“No, no, it’s fine!” She reassures him, “I’m okay with you calling me Haruka!”

“Ah, I see.” He notifies her, “Nene said she would ‘be right back,’ but didn’t say what she’s doing.”

“Oh, okay…” Haruka trails off, shuddering as she looks back up at the tab with OWN’s song pulled up.

Isn’t this the second dream you’ve stolen? This is why you don’t try to help, Haruka Kiritani.

Miku looks up, the figure of a familiar girl shaping back into the world. Fidgeting with her Cat’s Cradle, she greets her, “Hello, Mafuyu.”

“Hello, Miku,” she nods back, sharing the same monotone voice. Wordlessly, Mafuyu shuffles over and sits at her side. She picks up the notebook she left, her keyboard waiting at its side.

Curiously, Miku asks, “How are things in your world?”

“Hm?” Mafuyu hums, not looking over. She flips to the next blank page. “The same, I guess. My mom hasn’t noticed I’ve been gone for most of the day. The forum is the same as ever.” With an empty laugh, she adds, “I suppose nothing would change if I disappeared for good.”

“Then why do you keep going back every night?” The Vocaloid challenges.

“Huh?” Mafuyu looks over, almost looking shocked. “My mom would make a big deal over my sudden disappearance and get the police involved…”

“Why does that matter?” She muses, “If you want to disappear for good, then it wouldn’t matter what you leave behind. You’ll be gone.”

“...”

“Do you really want to disappear?”

Mafuyu picks up her pen, and starts to scribble in her notebook.

“Or, are you hoping for a better tomorrow?”

Her breath hitches. With growing irritation, she glares over at the Vocaloid. However, before she can snap at her to leave, the sound of quickening footsteps resounds from the distance. Looking up, both girls see a certain green-haired girl jogging towards them.

“Yuki, Miku!” She calls, gasping for air. As soon as she reaches them, she falls to her knees, breathing heavily.

“Nene…” Miku’s eyes widen, shuffling over to pat her back.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone,” Mafuyu glowers, showing no sympathy for the girl’s disheveled state.

“I know, I know,” Nene rasps out, “I just wanted to bring you a parting gift.”

“A… parting gift?” She squints, apprehensive. With a grunt, the girl pulls a small flash drive from her pocket, shoving it towards Mafuyu.

She starts, “I’m really jealous of you, y’know.” Despite her going out of her way to come to the SEKAI, Nene seems annoyed at the prospect. 

“I assume most people are,” Mafuyu mumbles back, but hesitantly takes the gift from her palm.

“You were able to freely share your music with the whole world, without fear,” she continues, “I couldn’t do that. I had to form a group to hide behind in order to chase my dream. I was afraid to even comment on your posts.” She giggles, and it sounds a little manic. “I had to hype myself up just to DM you, and all you had to say was a simple little ‘no’. Seriously, what is your issue?”

Mafuyu tilts her head, unable to form a response.

Nene clicks her tongue. “Perhaps that’s not just a parting gift, but my revenge as well.”

She takes out her phone, and pauses the song. As she fades away, Mafuyu looks down at the piece of plastic in her hand. It’s a bit warm. Something claws at her throat, but it’s not the cold nausea she’s used to.

Strange.

“Hey, I’m back,” Nene chimes, settling back into her chair.

“Welcome back,” Toya greets her, “Did something come up?”

“No, not really,” she responds, “Though, it’s getting kinda late. We should all get some rest.”

“Hm? It’s not really any later than when we usually hop off of Nightcord,” Haruka notes.

“We’ve all been stressed lately,” Nene explains, “It’ll be good for us to get an actual full night of sleep.”

“You’re right,” Toya agrees, “I’ll leave the call too, then. Talk to you both tomorrow!”

“See ya.”

“Goodnight…”

Nene stares back at her reflection in the blackness of the screen. “...What did I just do?” She whispers at it. It doesn’t respond.

“Asahina’s still not back?!” A girl squeals, slapping her hands down on her desk. It reverbs through the classroom. Haruka groans quietly, burying her head into her hands.

“Nope. It’s been what, the whole week, now?” Another girl responds.

“Do you think she’s run away?” Their friend whispers, sounding horrified but intrigued, “Or maybe got into some sort of accident?”

“No way, idiot! We’re talking about Mafuyu Asahina .”

“She probably got some crazy internship, or something, knowing her.”

“Maybe she’s sick! I heard the flu’s really bad this year, after all!”

“Yeah, no way something bad happened to Asahina… Right?”

“If something happened to her, the whole school would be sent into shambles!”

Great, Haruka chastises herself, You’ve sent the whole school into a panic now. You’re a real idol, Haruka. 

Softly, Nene giggles, trying to her face in her uniform’s sleeves.

“Watching another musical?” Toya perks up from behind her, setting a can down on her desk.

“Yeah,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him, “What’s this?”

“You never leave the classroom for lunch, so I brought you a drink,” he explains, pulling a nearby chair over to sit beside her.

“Oh… Thank you, then.” She pauses the show on her phone, sliding the juice over to her.

“So,” he probes, “Are you ever going to tell me what you did last night?”

“Eh?”

“When you left the call, after Haruka zoned out,” he pushes, “What did you do?”

“Geez, what’s your problem?” Nene digresses, “It’s not important.”

Toya hums, clearly not pleased with that answer.

Suddenly, she accuses, “Hey– Did you only buy me this drink to butter me up?!” 

At this, he chuckles lightly. “So what if I did?”

“You’re such an anomaly, Toya Aoyagi,” she observes, “So quiet and polite, but so cunning and sneaky. I need to watch my back around you.”

He teases back, “You’re quite the dramatic, Nene.”

She huffs, feigning offense. However, she props her phone up against the drink can, playing the musical so he can see as well.

Exhausted, Nene drops into the chair at her desk. Despite getting more sleep than usual, she still feels like a zombie at the end of the day. Booting up Nightcord, she yawns, then hisses when she hits her elbow against the edge of her desk. However, she gasps, seeing a familiar icon at the top of her messages. Immediately, she opens their DMs.

YUKI: no thanks

YUKI: can you meet me in the sekai

YUKI: actually bring everyone

YUKI: i’ll be waiting

“Crap, crap!” She squeals to herself, rushing to message Haruka and Toya.

MERNE: GUYS GO TO THE SEKAI RN YUKI JUST ASKED ME TO BRING YOU GUYS THERE

ATOYA: Really?

TORI: What’s going on??

ATOYA: What did you do last night?

MERNE: EXPLAIN LATER MEET ME THERE

She closes Nightcord, turning to find Untitled on her phone.

In a few minutes’ time, the trio reunites in the SEKAI, cautiously trekking in the direction of Miku’s humming. Eventually, they find the singing Vocaloid, playing Cat’s Cradle at the feet of Mafuyu Asahina.

“Ah, you’re here,” Mafuyu greets, tone devoid of any traceable emotion.

“What’s going on?” Toya asks again, pointing his stare at the back of Nene’s head. She doesn’t seem to notice, or at least ignores him.

Silently, Mafuyu extends her fist out. Unfurling her fingers, she reveals a flash drive sitting in her palm. 

“Oh, that’s…” Nene pipes up, but falters when she remembers the other two in their presence.

“You gave that to her?” Toya guesses. 

Nene only nods in response.

“Is it a song?”

With a gasp, Nene finally looks back at him, eyes wide in shock.

“You gave her a song?” Haruka asks, voice quiet.

“It’s a strange song,” Mafuyu interjects, “It confused me.”

“I– I’m sorry, I just–” Nene stammers, but is cut off.

“You’re awfully meek all of the sudden,” she observes, but doesn’t seem too concerned with the girl’s behavior. “I never said it was a bad song.”

“So– So you’re not upset?” Nene trembles.

“Hmm…” Mafuyu hums, looking down at her hand. She brings it closer to her face, seemingly observing it, as if she could see its contents if she squinted hard enough. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Eh? You don’t think so?”
“It made me feel something,” Mafuyu admits, “But… I’m not sure what it was.” Her hand falls down to her side, and she looks up to meet Nene’s eyes. “Perhaps I was scared that your song made me feel anything at all.”

Face burning red, Nene clutches her hands over her heart. She can’t find the words to form a response, so she just stares back into Mafuyu’s intense gaze.

Suddenly, Miku speaks up in her stead, “I think it’s time that Mafuyu returns back to your world.” Startled, the teenagers all turn to look at her. “She’s found what she’s been looking for.”

“Alright, I’m sending over the final mix,” Haruka declares as a click emits through her microphone. Soon after, a new file appears in the Nightcord chat. “Give it a listen.”

After a few minutes, Toya speaks up, “It sounds great. I like how you layered Nene’s different takes in the final chorus,” he compliments, tone warm.

“Yeah, it was a good idea to keep that sample Toya suggested,” Nene comments, nodding behind the screen.

Their newest member hums for a second, then utters, “Yeah. It’s good.”

Despite her bleak tone, Haruka giggles, knowing that she’s sincere. “Thanks, Mafuyu. Should I post it now?”

Together, the rest of the group resound with agreement. A smile tugs at Haruka’s lips as she pulls up the forum, and with a quiet gasp, she realizes it’s the first time she’s truly smiled in a while.

Hey, did you see what that new group posted?

yeah, it’s srsly really good!!

It’s a bit sad, but in a way that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Lol

I get that. It makes me feel heard.

exactly^^ i think it really resonated w a lot of people.

“Woah, there’s already a bunch of comments coming in!” Haruka exclaims, watching as her notifications steadily rise.

“Eh, really?” Nene mumbles, “I’m gonna head to bed, then. If I look at them now I’ll be up all night refreshing the page…”

“I’m a bit tired, so I’ll be heading off as well,” Toya speaks up, “Goodnight, everyone!”

After exchanging farewells, only two girls remain in the call. An awkward silence resonates between them.

However, one of them bluntly slices through it. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Huh?” Haruka gasps, looking back at Nightcord, “For what?”

“You’re the first person who’s ever reached out to me,” Mafuyu explains, “It may have been misguided, but… Thanks, still, for trying.”

“Oh, ah…”

Haruka straightens up from her slouched position. Somehow, it feels easier than before– as if a weight had been lifted off of her back.

“You’re welcome, Mafuyu.”

Chapter Text

Toya looks over at the clock placed on the wall, nestled right between the ceiling and the chalkboard. As his teacher prattles away at the day’s lesson, he finds himself tapping his pencil against his notebook in rhythm with the second hand. It’s not that he’s impatient or an unruly student, quite the opposite actually— this is a rare instance of restlessness from the normally calm boy. However, as a particularly strong ache resonates through his cramping fingers, he can’t help but find himself counting down the seconds until lunch break.

Thankfully, his reprieve arrives shortly. Dashing out of the room, he locates the nearest vending machine before any other students can form a line around it. Please be cold, please be cold , he prays to himself, hearing the water bottle drop with a blunt thud. When he grabs it, a cool sensation tingles his palm. It’s not cold enough to work as a makeshift ice pack for the rest of the day, but it’s still enough to distract his nerves from the intense pain shooting through them for the lunch period. Sighing out a breath of relief, he saunters back to the classroom, wrapping his fingers around the bottle.

As soon as he slides the classroom door open, a voice calls out to him, “Where did you go?” 

Startled out of his momentary bliss, Toya looks over to meet Nene’s pointed gaze. Silently, he raises his hand with the water bottle, pointing at it. She mouths an “oh,” looking a little bashful for being so brash with him. 

As if apologizing in her own way, she gestures towards the phone propped up on her desk and offers, “Want to watch this musical with me?” 

“Sure,” he nods, walking over to sit at the adjacent desk, “What’s it about?”

“It’s a relatively new show,” Nene explains, pausing to bite down on a chip. “I think the composers were influenced by contemporary rock, so it’s different from the shows I’ve shown you before. I’m not too sure about the plot, though…”

“That’s interesting,” Toya remarks, intrigued, “It’ll be nice to see how the rock influence pans out. Maybe I’ll add it to my references…” Absent-mindedly, he squeezes the water bottle, as if he could force the frigidity out of it by brute strength alone.

Seeing this, Nene furrows her brow at him. “Are you gonna drink that, or did you waste your money on overpriced vending machine water to use it as a stress ball?” 

“Oh! Ah…” Toya falters, thinking of how to explain his odd behavior. “My hand started cramping during class, so I bought this to help…”

“Like an ice pack?” She probes.

“Like an ice pack,” he confirms, but sheepishly adds, “It’s not a very good ice pack.”

“Yeah, I’d bet,” she chuckles, but quickly turns somber.

“I still get aches in my hands… On bad days, it’s like I’ve never stopped. I can still feel the keys on my fingertips, and it hurts.”

“Um…” She raises a hand, but finds herself unsure why. It’s as if she’s subconsciously reaching out to help, to grab his hand and magically cure this lifelong pain, but she’s mature enough to know ailments like this can’t be solved with pure-hearted intentions alone.

“What’s wrong?” Toya raises his eyebrows, voice small as he queries. “Are you going to start the show?”

“Oh, right,” she mumbles, reaching over to press play on the video. As soon as the first guitar chord strikes, the boy leans forward in his chair, propping his chin up with his hand. Just as he gets lost in the music, Nene becomes lost in her train of thought. 

“What’s wrong?” You! You’re what’s wrong! She frowns, foot tapping restlessly. Will you be alright for the rest of the day? Can you keep taking notes during class? Do you need me to share mine with you? Are you just going to live through the pain? How long have you been…

“I’ve never heard a synthesizer be used in a musical score before,” Toya gushes, breaking Nene away from her spiral. 

“Ah—! Yeah, it’s more popular for contemporary shows,” she explains, trying to keep her voice as steady as usual.

“You’ll have to show me some more, then.” He smiles at her, and the warmth from the gesture is almost enough to distract from the creaking sound of the water bottle as Toya grips onto it harder. 

With his right hand firmly gripping over his left wrist, Toya wanders down the street. It’s become a routine for him, over the past year, to spend the hours after his classes end roaming around aimlessly. Sometimes he’ll stop by his favorite bookstore, or grab coffee at one of the cafes he likes, but he mostly ambles around with no goal in mind. 

However, today, he finds himself with a particular destination in mind— the arcade. Despite his best efforts to brush it off, he could tell that Nene was uncomfortable with his condition during lunch. So, as an apology for making her worry about his own problems, he’s resolved to win her a plushie from one of the crane machines. 

Stepping into the arcade, Toya immediately sets his sights on one of the larger prizes– a light green bunny. As he makes a beeline for the machine it resides in, he pulls out his wallet, pulling out a small amount of yen. Even though it’s quite a large plushie compared to the other prizes, it’s nestled in a way where it should only take two moves to poke it into a position to safely grab it. Humming in agreement with this plan, Toya steadies a hand over the crane’s joystick. Perhaps this is what all my piano training was actually preparing me for, he snickers to himself, letting the crane’s arm fall and jostle the bunny over to its side. 

Watching the crane fall back to its starting spot, Toya repositions his hand to get a better, stricter grasp on the arm’s movement. The timer starts to tick, leaving him with only ten seconds to carry out his plan. Right, now I just need to…

Ah—!

A sharp, static sting shoots through his fingers. Recoiling from the shock, the joystick jerks to the side at the last second. The arm falls, knocking the plushie back.

“What the…” Toya exhales, cradling his hand to his chest. Looking back at the crane machine, he sees his frowning reflection in the glass. 

The bunny lays in the far corner, sandwiched between some of the other prizes. It’s in a bad spot now…

He lowers his hand back down to the joystick, ignoring how another jolt of electricity streaks through his muscles.

I’ll just have to revise my plan…

Closing the door behind him, Toya swings his backpack off of him. The large rabbit plush, plus some other prizes he managed to accrue while aiming for it, sit among his school supplies, creating a rather uncomfortable bulky mass to carry.

It’s not painful, however, especially in comparison to the pulsing, stabbing agony aching through his fingers, down to his wrist. Again, he cradles it to his chest, rubbing at his knuckle. It’s a futile gesture, and he knows it, but it’s the most he can do. 

Before slinking into his bedroom, Toya catches sight of his father through the hallway. He’s sitting in the living room, sipping a cup of coffee. Usually, he’s in his office at this time, so the sight makes him stall in his step.

However, before he realizes it, he’s moving forward. Suddenly, he’s in front of his dad, peering down into his confused and somewhat irritated gaze.

“...My hand hurts,” he admits, and immediately cringes at how much of a petulant, whiny child he sounds like.

“Okay?” His father squints his eyes, looking less than amused by his son’s intrusion.

“I struggled to take notes during class,” he adds, trying to convey the severity of the situation. “I think I should see a doctor about it.”

His father sighs, deep and heavy. “I don’t think that will be needed.” After pausing to take a long sip from his coffee, he chuckles, “Maybe this is your body punishing you for giving up on the piano.”

Toya doesn’t remember leaving the room, nor entering his bedroom.

Somehow, it’s already early morning. Toya knows he’s expected on Nightcord, and that Nene will track down his home address and crawl through his window to make sure he’s not dead if he doesn’t join the call. Still, his hand aches. Just the act of twitching his fingers is enough to make him tear up, burning electric burning through his hand. 

He shakes the mouse of his computer, bringing it back to life. It hurts. He types in his password and presses enter. It hurts. He scrolls over to find the Nightcord app. It hurts. He clicks it open, navigating to the group’s private server. It hurts. The others are already in voice chat, so he puts his headphones on. It hurts. He clicks down, entering the call. It hurts.

“Took you long enough,” Nene greets him, sounding a little ticked off.

“Sorry, I got home late.” It’s a white lie, but the poor girl is already too worried about such a small problem.

“I sent a new draft of lyrics in the chat,” Mafuyu voices. “You can look it over and see if you have anything in your drafts that might work with them.”

“I’ll take a look,” Toya affirms, moving to scroll up. However, an especially sharp sting surges up his forearm as he does, making him hiss out loud.

Immediately, the others fall silent.

“What was that?” Haruka asks, voice small but slicing through the silence, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Toya mumbles, hand cradled against his chest once again. “I… Uh…”

It hurts. It really hurts. It feels like his fingers dipped in pure venom, slowly succumbing to the toxic agony.

“I need to go, sorry…”

It still hurts when he clicks down, exiting the call.

Nene stares at the computer screen in absolute disbelief, mouth gaping open. 

“Did he show up just to leave?” Mafuyu asks, voice low.

“No, I think…”

The sound of a crushed water bottle echoes in her thoughts.

“It’s his hand!” Nene blurts out.

“...Huh?” Haruka pipes up, sounding more than confused.

“He– He’s mentioned having recurring hand pains before,” she explains, sheepishly unsure if she should be divulging this information, “It’s from playing the piano.” 

That shouldn’t cross any lines… Right?

“Oh, is that it?” Haruka hums, her finger tapping audible over Nightcord. “That’s… Um…”

“Why are you all being so awkward tonight?” Mafuyu mutters, the clicking of her keyboard still audible as she works through the prevailing conversation.

“Ah, it’s just…” Haruka winces, stalling. “I was reminded of something.”

Furrowing her brow, Nene leans closer to the screen. “Of what?” She pries.

“It’s nothing,” Haruka quickly answers, closing her eyes as the memory of fluorescent lights and sterile smells overwhelms her senses. A raspy voice shouts in her ears, but no one is talking. “Just something that happened in the past.”

“That’s not helpful.”

Nene sighs, putting her head in her hands. “I just don’t know if I’m overreacting,” she explains, “clearly it’s hurting him, but he also said it’s been like that for a while. What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Mafuyu voices with no other answer.

After a moment of hesitation, Haruka adds, “I’d rather not push him either way.”

Honestly, she doesn’t know what she was expecting. Maybe she herself was looking for a push, or rather somewhere to deflect things don’t go the way she wants them to. Ultimately, she was only looking for someone else’s approval to assure her that she’s concerned out of the goodness of her heart, not because of the selfish fears that crawl into her chest.

Because, if Toya can’t make music anymore, then…

“I was only able to start making music again thanks to you.”

What happens to her? What happens to the group?

What happens to him?

As she slides the classroom door open, Nene peeks at the line of desks by the window. Sure enough, she finds her target waiting in his proper seat, head buried in some novella. Immediately, she beelines towards him.

“Hey, Toya,” she greets, not waiting for him to look up, “Is your hand okay?”

“Huh?” He raises an eyebrow at her, before a wave of realization hits him. “Oh! Yes, it’s feeling much better today.”

“Oh, huh…” Nene picks at her nails, feeling a little awkward now. She came to school fully prepared to argue with him about seeking proper treatment, but now she just feels like she’s been overreacting for the past day. 

As if he could read her thoughts, Toya pipes back up, “I’m sorry to make you worry about me. Here, take this as an apology.” He bends over, unzipping his backpack to retrieve a mint-colored bunny plushie. As soon as he reveals it, Nene steps back with a gasp.

“You– You didn’t need to do that…!”
“I feel bad that you were concerned.” He extends his arm out, offering the prize to her. “Please take it. It’s the least I could do.”

Cautiously, she removes the bunny from his grasp, holding it out as if it were one of the weird animatronics wired by her neighbor that could explode at any second. “Thank you, Toya…” She mumbles into it, hugging it against her chest. It’s soft, and quite warm from being stuffed in a backpack. Definitely not one of Rui’s robots , she giggles to herself. Ease washing her, she bows to her groupmate, excusing herself to walk back to her own desk.

Watching her walk away, Toya grasps at his elbow with a wince.

“Nene, can you sing the harmony here?”

“I’m going to tweak the chorus…”
“Hold on, I have another take to send.”

“Alright, sending another snippet over!”

It takes all of Toya’s willpower not to deafen himself. There is venom and electricity shooting through his entire arm, into his shoulder, and the girls are working away as always. He can’t take it. It feels like his head is going to explode. The pain is too much– it’s draining.

“How did it get to my head…?” He moans, agony obscuring his sense to not vocalize his every thought. 

“Huh? Did you say something, Toya?” Haruka asks, the others falling silent.

“Oh! Ah…” He trails off, unable to form a coherent lie. The poison’s in his head, it’s pounding and throbbing and surely he’s going to die if it doesn’t end soon.

“Do you have new demos?” Mafuyu interjects, “I’d like to listen for some inspiration.”

“Sorry, I don’t,” he groans, raising his arms to hold his head but that just makes the venom proliferate and he thinks he’s yelps and honestly– It’s a little pathetic, the others must think he’s so pathetic . 

“That’s fine,” Haruka announces, right as Nene gasps out, “Are you okay?”

Before he can collect himself to respond, a sudden thud from behind him startles him out of his spiraling torment. He jumps, turning around to face–

“Dad?” He quavers, voice small and weak.

“Toya,” he rasps, eyes more piercing than the headache eating away at Toya’s skull. “What are you doing up at this time?” It’s not a question, but an accusation.

“Work,” Toya answers, short and quick but laced with trepidation. The torture of his own body is enough to deal with, so he doesn’t need his dad piling onto his distress. “I’ll go to bed soon. I lost track of time,” he tries to placate the man.

“This isn’t the first time your mother’s complained about hearing noises from your room at this hour,” His dad badgers, face contorting with irritation. “What could you possibly be working on right now?”

“It’s nothing,” he breathes out, trying to hide all of his open tabs as his dad approaches. However, his notebook lays open on his desk, revealing the secrets he was trying to conceal.

“Hmph. I see,” his dad huffs, making a strange cross between a sigh and a disbelieving chuckle. “So you haven’t quit music entirely, you’ve just been doing… whatever this is.” The man squints down, lifting the notebook up with his fingers as if it would dirty his hands with the garbage laid upon its pages. “If you would just focus on practicing instead of messing around like this, you would already be competing at the national level.”

“Please just get out,” Toya nearly snaps, grabbing onto his wrist as another pang stabs like a fallen icicle. “I’m not going back to classical music. What I do doesn’t concern you anymore.”

His dad’s sharp, disappointed gaze is unrelenting, but he drops the notebook back onto the desk. “What a waste,” he sighs, turning back towards the door. “Go to bed already,” is all he says before shutting it behind him.

Toya feels himself shaking, but he’s unsure if it’s from pain, fear, ire, or a disconcerting mixture of such emotions.

“Toya…?” A meek voice whispers through his headphones, and he nearly jumps out of his seat.

“Oh, sorry!” He gasps, “I forgot to mute again. Sorry about that.”

“No, don’t be,” Nene mumbles, “Was that…?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he remarks, unusually pushy for his usual demeanor. “Let’s just go back to work. Forget about it.”

Silently, everyone obliges. In that state, time ticks on, only soft keyboard clicks and rustling papers occasionally lighting up their mics at random intervals.

About an hour later, Haruka cuts through the comfortable silence, “I should head to sleep now. See you guys tomorrow!”

“I’m kinda tired, too,” Nene grumbles, “I’m gonna log off.”

“Mm…” Mafuyu hums, before deciding, “I’m staying. I want to finish this song tonight.”

“Yeah, same,” Toya agrees, “I didn’t get much done, and I don’t want to slack off.”

“You’re not–” Nene starts, but stops herself with an abrupt exhale. “None of us care if you’re not producing a new song every night. You know that, right?”

“Don’t overwork yourself,” Haruka adds, “Please…”

“I won’t,” he affirms, “I just want to contribute as much as the rest of you. I’m fine.”

Nene audibly sighs, but concedes, “Alright. See you at school, Toya. Goodnight, everyone.”

“Goodnight!” Haruka echoes, both girls exiting the call simultaneously. 

Silence befalls the call once more, but somehow, it’s much cooler and sharper than before– like the sting of the winter’s air.

Toya shifts in his seat. His Nightcord icon lights up, indicating that his microphone picked up the movement.

Mafuyu must take this as a sign to grab his attention, because she suddenly queries, “How do you stand up to your father like that?”
“Huh?” Toya voices, caught off-guard. His fingers twitch, indicating the slow reintroduction of the everpresent pain. 

“You talked back to your dad,” she explains breathily. “You said no to him. How?”

“How?” He repeats, confused by the line of questioning. “I just… said no. I won’t subject myself to a life I don’t want to live anymore.”

“...”
“I’m sorry, I’m not really sure how to answer.”

“It’s fine.”

As soon as class is dismissed for lunch, Nene waves Toya over to sit with her. Some of the other students glance by, surprised at the forthcoming gesture from the usually quiet girl. However, the two groupmates pay their peers no mind, huddling over Nene’s phone together.

“This one’s an earlier show from the same composer as last time,” she explains, looking over to gauge Toya’s reaction. “Ready?”

“Yeah, sounds good!” He beams, clutching his hand to his chest.

“Alright, h–”

Wait.

She stops in her tracks, finger hovering above the play button. “Toya…” Slowly, her finger turns to point at his arm. “Your hand.” It’s not a fretful concern, nor a careful question– it’s an indication of the unspoken lies wavering between them. 

Under her intense scrutiny, Toya falters, “Um… Well…”

However, Nene cuts to the chase, “Why did you say it was feeling better?”

He sighs, cradling his arm closer. “It usually goes away after a few hours, or even a day. It’s never persisted this long, but I don’t want you worrying over something that you can’t help…”

“You’re stupid,” she retorts, as firm as any trivia fact. “I’m just gonna worry more if you lie about being hurt,” she mumbles under her breath.

“I didn’t mean to lie,” he contends, “I figured it would go away soon, anyway…”

“But it hasn’t,” she finishes, crossing her arms. He only nods in response, so she continues probing, “Have you tried asking your mom about seeing a doctor? I know your dad didn’t sound very helpful last night, but you can’t just ignore it and hope it goes away.”

“My mom…?” He muses, mulling it over. “I haven’t, but… I guess that’s an option.”

“Please,” Nene begs, Haruka’s anecdotes from her idol days echoing through her thoughts, “Ask for help.”

Toya bristles, pressing his fingers into the wrist of his other hand. “I just…”

“What?” Nene pries, feeling antsy. 

“I’m worried about going behind my dad’s back,” he admits, hanging his head.

“Screw him!” She blurts out, slamming her palms against her desk. Toya gasps at the outburst, but she rants on, “He’s gonna be pissed if you go behind his back, but he’s gonna be even more pissed when you have to get your hand amputated or whatever!”
“Wh– Amputated?” 

“I don’t know! It could happen!”

Toya quirks an eyebrow, but assures her nonetheless, “Okay, just calm down. I’ll ask my mom for help. I promise.”

Exhaling a breath of relief, Nene unfurls her fingers from the hem of her skirt. “Thank you…”

While Toya wanders around the streets of Shibuya after school, he finds himself falling into the habit of people-watching. It’s quite an embarrassing habit, as he’s gotten caught staring and had to excuse himself far too many times for his liking. Still, he’ll often note the unique quirks of the other people surrounding him on the streets. For example, he has a mental list of all the different ways someone can hold their phone while walking, and every time a young girl with an ita bag passes by he’ll go down a Wikipedia rabbit hole trying to find out which idol she’s decorated it with. 

However, once again, Toya finds himself too distracted by a single goal to loiter around, observing the world around him. If he breaks his promise with Nene, he’s sure she will follow him home and personally ask his mother to bring him to a doctor herself. So, he has to get home quickly, before his dad is done with his daily meetings. 

Closing the door behind him, Toya immediately zeroes in on the sound of his mom rustling in the kitchen. He almost forgets to take off his shoes as he tries to reach her as soon as possible. Hurrying into the room, he finds her sitting at the counter.

His mom looks up in shock, making a small gasp. “Toya, you’re home early today!” She observes, but it sounds more like a question than anything.

“Yes, I…” He winces, preparing himself as he steps closer to her. “I need to ask you something.”

“Oh?” She places her mug down, leaning forward. “It must be important then. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been having issues with hand pains again,” he admits in a low whisper.

“Aw, that’s a shame,” she hums, then clicks her tongue. “Should I grab an ice pack for you? Or maybe some aspirin…”

“No, it’s–!” Toya slaps a hand against the counter, hissing when it sends aching jolts up his whole arm. “Sorry, it’s not the same as before. It’s been going for days now, and it’s getting worse.”

“Hm? What do you mean by that?” His mom purses her lips.

“The pain keeps growing in intensity, and it’s been traveling up my arm,” he explains, gesturing with his free hand as he does, “I really think I need to see a doctor, or someone, about this.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. Have you asked your father?” She questions. A cold air washes over Toya, and he has to check that he’s not standing by any vents.

“Yes, but he didn’t seem to care,” he reveals.

“If your father isn’t worried, then we shouldn’t be worried either,” she relates, smiling down at her son. Somehow, dread still pools in his stomach. “I can still give you an ice pack, though!”

He scowls back. “No, it’s fine.”

His mom calls something out to him, but he has a new goal in mind. He doesn’t pay her any mind, rubbing his wrist as he storms up the stairs.

Somewhere, a girl sits atop the metal bars of a fallen batten. Lacing her fingers through and over a piece of a string, her focus is only broken by the presence of a new figure in the empty landscape.

“Toya…” She buzzes solemnly, looking down at the boy stalking towards her. 

Silently, he hops up next to her, but doesn’t greet her with any words nor a glance of recognition. He only clutches his wrist in his opposite hand, pushing it against his chest. The shine across his eyes is one that she can distantly recall.

Slowly, she raises a hand to gesture towards his chest. “You’re hurt…?”

He nods, then sniffles.

“Inside, too,” she observes, shifting to free her fingers from the string wrapped around them. Whether it’s the observation or sudden movement, she doesn’t know, but the boy finally looks up at her nevertheless.

“Yeah,” he confirms, holding himself tighter, “A lot.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” She offers, wide eyes peering at him, as if she already knows the answer.

“Well, it’s stupid,” he chuckles lightly, wiping at his eyes. “I’ve been having this arm pain for a bit now and my parents won’t let me get help. I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”

“But… Doesn’t it hurt?” Miku puzzles, tilting her head.

“Yeah, but–”
“So shouldn’t I worry?”

Toya freezes. “Huh?”

“If someone you care for is hurting, then isn’t it natural to worry?”

He breathes out, shaky and unsteady. “I– I guess?” 

The two fall into a silent spell. Miku returns to her game of Cat’s Cradle while Toya stews in his unrelenting agony. When he glances over, watching her fingers effortlessly grace over the string, he somehow feels a jealous pang pound at his heart.

Swallowing down the unnecessary rage, he asks, “Did you take care of Mafuyu the whole time she was in here?”

“Yes,” she answers, pigtails bouncing as he nods, “I mostly kept her company and sang to her. She did not like to converse very much.” After a moment, she adds, “I suppose that could be because of her pain, as well.”

“Huh?” Toya probes, “What do you mean?”

“Mafuyu often became nauseous during her stay in the SEKAI. She experiences physical pain as a result of her emotional pain. You experience emotional pain as a result of your physical pain.” She tugs at the string between her fingers, watching it shake and vibrate. “That is a ruthless cycle. I could not leave her alone, even though she wanted me to leave.”

His fingers twitch as his brain processes this observation. “So, you felt the need to carry some of her burden, then?”

“Mm…” She hums in agreement, then utters slowly, “I wish I could hold some of your pain, too.”

“I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone,” he whispers back. However, he suddenly rushes upwards, jumping to his feet. “Sorry, I should go!” Clumsily, he retrieves his phone from his pocket. “I need to catch up on my work for our new song.”

1:00 AM , the electronic clock situated on the nightstand reads. The Nightcord icon on his computer lights up with notifications, but Toya stays seated at his kotatsu.

Laid upon it, a number of discarded and ruined compositions are scrambled about. “I can’t…” He whispers to himself, leaning forward to grab the pen he’s dropped. There’s a cool sensation against his hand, but he can’t fully grasp onto it. It falls through his fingers once more. “I can’t,” He mumbles, growing louder and more panicked. “I can’t…”

What?

Grab a stupid pen?

Finish this song?

Feel my arm through the pain?
Show up to the Nightcord call?

Choking back a sob, his arm falls to his side.

Nene digs her nails into her pants, foot restlessly tapping away. Finally, she explodes, “Where is Toya?! He’s thirty minutes late and hasn’t said a word!” 

“Calm down, Nene,” Haruka urges. “Maybe he’s in the SEKAI? It’s hard to keep track of time in there, after all.”

“I can’t see why he would want to go there, but…” She sighs, “Fine, let’s check.”

All three girls grab their phones, pressing play on their shared song.

As soon as she lands in the SEKAI, Nene leans over on the closest object to her, which happens to be Haruka’s shoulder.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to shifting worlds,” she groans, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Miku,” Mafuyu starts, looking up to the girl sitting across from them, “Have you seen Toya?”

“He hasn’t been responding to us on Nightcord, so we’re a little worried!” Haruka supplies as she rubs a hand on Nene’s back to comfort her.

“Oh, I see,” Miku mumbles, resting her hands on her lap. “We had a conversation earlier today. He seemed quite upset, but quickly left to work on a new song,” she explains, reflecting back on their time together. Then, she warns, “I’d think it’s best if you leave him be for tonight.”

Warning bells sound in Nene’s head, bringing her back to full attention. “What? If he’s upset, then we should help–“

“Sometimes it’s better to give people space,” Haruka interjects. “We shouldn’t get involved if he doesn’t want us to. It might do more harm than good.”

“I agree,” Mafuyu speaks up. “If he wants to spend the night working alone, then let him. It won’t be any different than the other night.”

Three pairs of eyes turn their gaze to Nene. She falters under their pressure. “Okay. Let’s go back to work, then.”

His legs don’t even reach the floor yet, dangling from the bench as his fingers effortlessly glide from key to key. Beside him, resonating warmth like a heater, is his father. From the corner of his eye, Toya can tell that he wants to reach out and start playing with the way his fingers twitch every so often. It’s as if electricity runs through them in distant intervals, and it’s distracting.

Nonetheless, he finishes the song without any mistakes.

“Toya, you’re a true prodigy,” his dad beams, ruffling his hair. Toya leans into the rare touch. “You’re going to do great things one day.”

He beams back, swinging his legs back and forth.

A few years later, he can finally press his toes to the ground, but can’t quite lay his feet flat on the floor yet. It’s uncomfortable and stifling, but still, he plays the song perfectly. No mistakes— not even anything minor.

“Play it again, Toya.”

He happily obliges. Once again, there are no mistakes.

“Play it again.”

He obliges. No mistakes, once more.

“Try it again.”

He does. When he reaches out for the last note of the song, his hand suddenly collapses on itself. An ugly, discordant sound rings out, one that’s never been heard in the Aoyagi household before.

“What was that?” His father huffs, grabbing the collar of his shirt.

“I… I don’t know,” the young boy breathes out. 

His dad grumbles back, “Keep playing. Don’t do that again.”

Hesitantly, Toya readies his hands. The one that betrayed him before twitches. The boy tilts his head in confusion, but distantly remembers how his father’s hands shake and jolt when he watches others play. So, he figures, he must be as eager to play as his father is!

He plays the song again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And—

His feet are placed firmly on the ground, posture as straight as humanly possible. His nimble fingers cut across the piano like a poised scythe, only striking the keys set with targets in his mind. 

There’s electricity in his fingers. When it strikes, they twitch on their own. He makes a lot of mistakes nowadays.

A stray finger lashes out, tapping against an erroneous key. It’s so faint that the untrained ear wouldn’t know.

His father’s ear, however, is highly trained. Immediately, he grabs his son by the shoulder, ripping him away from the piano.

“What the hell are you doing?! Making simple mistakes like that at your age?” He barks. The warmth his body had once radiated is now solely located in his irises, a burning fury flickering every which way and unable to escape. Somehow, he feels a similar burn in his wrist. “Don’t be the family’s failure, Toya.”

What hurts more: the ache, or the disappointment? He can’t tell.

When Toya rises from his sleep, the first thing he notices is that he’s wearing a sweat-drenched uniform.

“Gross…” He mutters to himself, immediately bouncing up to change. A strange fog, one of rancor, lingers in his head. There’s a strange taste on his tongue, too. Bitter, maybe? Distantly, he wonders if he’s had a bad dream that he can’t remember.

“Toya!” A small voice calls out to him. Gasping, he looks over to the source, and finds a familiar face standing atop of his phone.

“Miku? What are you doing here?” He asks, rushing over to the kotatsu to meet her.

“I wanted to check in after yesterday,” she explains, looking him over. “How are you today?”

He responds, “My arm still hurts.”

“Mm…” Miku hums, squinting in her eyes. “How are you, though?”

“Huh?” He utters, eyes widening as he processes her true intentions. He takes a second to ponder how he truly is feeling. Then, he lands on, “Oh, ah… I guess… I’m better?” He scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” he finally admits, “I woke up feeling kinda angry, but I don’t know why.”

“Angry?” She echoes, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Or, maybe that’s not the best word for it…” He tries to find the right descriptor, but can’t quite find the right descriptor “Resentment? I don’t know…”

“I’ve never felt like that,” Miku mutters, looking down.

“Huh? You’ve never been mad before?” Toya bends down, looking more closely at the Vocaloid.

“No,” she replies, confident in her answer. “I don’t feel happy, or sad, either.”

“Do you feel anything ?” 

“…Coldness.”

Ah, Toya winces, I understand.

He looks out onto the sea of rejected compositions before them. Something clicks. Or rather, snaps.

“Miku, do you want to feel like that?”

“It would be nice to try,” she muses, and Toya almost laughs. He gets it, though, that empty aimlessness where even gut-wrenching misery would feel pleasurable in its place. 

“Then let’s write this song together,” he offers, reaching out for his pen. His fingers twitch, stinging venom and electricity and fire mixing together at once. Clutching the pen closer, he hisses.

“Are you okay, Toya?”

“No, I’m not,”  he exhales. “That’s why we’re gonna write this song.”

This time, Toya’s the first one to enter the Nightcord voice chat. It took all day, and with several breaks to grab ice packs and aspirin and construct makeshift braces, but he’s done it— He has a finished composition to offer.

Nene’s the first one to join him. “Hey, are you feeling better?” She immediately asks, not even greeting him.

“Yeah, I am,” he nods, and this time he means it.

“That’s good.”  Then, she huffs, “You better not be lying again!”

“I’m not, I swear! I’m not fully healed but I’m better!” he chuckles, basking in the moment as her soft giggle answers back.

Soon enough, Mafuyu and Haruka enter the call as well.

“I finally have something to show you guys,” Toya shares, sending a file full of his work to the chat. 

“Geez, didn’t we tell you to lay off the work for a bit?” Nene scolds, but opens his demo up anyway. “Woah, this is…”

“It’s very intense,” Haruka chimes in, to which Nene vocalizes in agreement.

“Are these those ‘emotions that bubble up’?” Mafuyu ponders, much to the confusion of the other girls.

Toya, however, remembers the exact comment she’s referring to. “Yeah, they are.”

“I see…” She trails off, leaving a stiff air behind.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Nene interjects, “Is this about your dad?”

“In a way, it’s inspired by him,” he admits.

“That makes sense. I can feel the resentment radiating off this track,” she notes. “It’s good that you’re not letting him walk all over you anymore.”

Feeling heat rise to his face, Toya laughs sheepishly. “Yeah…”

On the other side of the screen, Mafuyu stills, a wave of nausea rushing over her.

Chapter Text

“There’s no way you work here…”

“ Why would I lie about that?” Turning to stare her partner in the eyes, Shiho squints up at him with a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. “I’ve mentioned this before, anyway.”

“I didn’t think any of the livehouses would hire a literal first-year,” Akito scoffs, averting his gaze as his arms cross.

“They let us participate in events, so what’s the difference if I also help out backstage?”

“That’s–”

“Shut it before you start throwing hands in the middle of this place.” Ena tosses her arm to the side, weakly tapping on her brother’s shoulder, but he recoils as if she’s just shot him all the same. Ignoring the dramatic scene playing out next to her as Airi gasps and rushes to his aid, she turns and addresses Shiho with a sweet gaze, “So this is where we’ll be performing this weekend?”

“Um… Yeah,” the younger girl answers, distracted as she watches the former idol pretend to dress Akito’s wounds as he shoos her away, no longer amused by his own bit. With a quick shake of her head, she regains enough focus to append her response, “Yeah, on Saturday night. We haven’t hosted a lot of real events like what Akito and I have been doing, so this is still kind of new for everyone here. There’s an event on Friday too, but that’s more of a pre-show type thing to build hype for the main event. ” Then, she points at the stage towering in front of the group, “That’s what they’re prepping for.”

Eyes following the tip of her finger, the three others look up at the cluster of people toiling away atop the platform. A girl clad in a gray sweatshirt and her own sweat, looking ready to topple over the cardboard box nestled between her hands, meets their gazes and suddenly gasps. The box falls to the ground with a resounding thud, and her loosely tied-up hair bounces as she profusely apologizes to the other workers with an intense animation. Swiftly but clumsily, she scurries over to the floor.

“Shiho!” She squeals, jumping to her co-worker’s side. “Oh my gosh, you must be Akito! It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Holding out her hand, Akito reluctantly shakes it, trying to ignore the film of sweat that transfers onto his own palm.

“Yeah, you too…” His voice shakes, but a polite grin stays plastered on his face like a plastic mask.

“And, ah…” The girl turns to Airi and Ena, who stare blankly back at her. “Shiho didn’t mention two other partners…?”

“They’re new,” Shiho cuts in, “Saturday’s our first event as a group.”

“Oh! Isn’t that exciting?” She giggles, patting Shiho’s shoulder. “Where’d you find them?”

“That one’s my sister,” Akito explains, jutting a thumb towards Ena.

“ Older sister,” Ena scowls, crossing her arms. “And what do you mean, ‘ that one ’?”

“That’s not important,” he glares back.

“That’s adorable!” The girl gushes back, slapping her hands to her cheeks. “Siblings working together– Ah, my heart!”

At her overzealousness, the Shinonomes bristle in unison. To their eternal gratitude, she quickly moves on to the next subject.

“Anyway, you are…?” She gestures towards Airi, then quickly shakes her head. “Wait! Don’t tell me! You’re so familiar, you’ve had to have been here before…”

“Um, no, she–”

“I was an idol. You’ve probably seen me on a variety show or something,” Airi interrupts Shiho, making the younger girl turn to her with wide eyes.

“An… idol?” The girl pauses, eyes equally as wide. “I see… I have a younger sister, so I probably recognized you from one of her shows… Aha, sorry,” she chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck.

“It’s fine,” Airi assures her with a wave of her hand and a kind smile, “I’m used to these types of things.”

“Right, aha…” The girl gulps, fidgeting with the strings of her sweatshirt. “Say, Shiho, where’d you recruit an idol of all people? For a street event? ” Her voice stays high and lilted as her words grit through an awkward, stilted smile.

“ Former idol,” Shiho corrects back, raising an eyebrow at her co-worker. “Why do you care?”

“I’m just curious!” She exclaims back, frantically waving her hands as if they were white flags. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a real idol on stage here ever, so…”

“So she’ll be the first.” Under Shiho’s intense gaze, the girl recoils.

Sensing the growing tension, Airi pipes in, “It’s an honor, then! I’ll do my best!”

“Yeah, I bet…” She mumbles, returning Shiho’s glare and side-eyeing the two girls. “See you guys at the show.” Having lost all of her initial bubbliness, the girl sulks back to her work.

Once she’s out of earshot, Ena voices, “What was that about? Did she seriously get that worked up because Airi used to be an idol?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shiho snaps back, lips pursed into a thin line, “People in this scene can be pretentious over the stupidest things.”

“But if they’re being mean to Airi–”

“It’s fine, Ena!” The girl in question interjects. “Seriously, you don’t need to white-knight me.”

Face heating up, she keens, “N–No, I wasn’t–!”

“You seem awfully defensive,” Akito smirks, hand hovering near his chin, ready to cover the chuckle bubbling up his throat.

“What is your deal?!” Ena lashes out, but Akito catches her hand this time.

Glaring at the siblings, Shiho mumbles, “I thought she didn’t want us to fight in public…”

“Let’s, sh–!” Airi steps forward to pull Ena off of her brother, but jumps back when a stray elbow comes her way. With a sigh, she reaches into her purse to grab her phone. “Let’s take a breather in there .”

“Ah, welcome everyone!” Meiko greets from behind the shop’s counter, waving the four teenagers inside. “Is there something you need?”

“No, we’re just taking a break before practice,” Airi explains, waving back at her.

“In that case, you’re free to hang out in the lounge,” the Vocaloid offers, then pauses with a gasp. “We actually have a rare guest visiting right now! What perfect timing!”
“A rare guest?” Akito echoes, intrigue outweighing his temper.

Meiko chuckles, covering her mouth with a slender hand. “Rin’s playing host for her right now. Why don’t you go meet her yourselves?”

The group wordlessly assesses the situation by exchanging hesitant but curious looks. Wearily, they amble over to the velvet-coated room, where a yellow-haired girl with a sour look on her face is pouring out two cups of tea. On the center couch, a pair of heeled boots poke out from the end as a mass of pink hair pools down the opposite side.

Hearing the approaching footsteps of the SEKAI’s owners, Rin gasps a sigh of relief, nearly doubling over with exhaustion. “Finally!” She exclaims, teacups clamoring as she runs over to the entrance. “Miku and Len ran off to who-knows-where when they heard Luka was coming! They left me to tend to her all by myself!”

Airi’s eyes widen in realization as she whispers, “Luka? You mean…”

“Oh, hi!” Two blue eyes pop up from behind the couch, gleaming under the warm lights off the lounge. “When did you guys get here?”

“Just…now?” Shiho mumbles, rubbing the side of her arm. “When did you get here?”

 “Ah…” Luka mumbles, repositioning herself to sit upright so she can properly look at the newcomers. After a few moments of quietly mulling over her response, she finally turns and beams, “Just now, as well!”

“Seriously?” Akito squints at her with scrutiny, crossing his arms.

“Ignore her,” Rin groans, rubbing her eyes. Then, she walks up to tug on Akito’s sleeve. “Are you guys here to practice? I could really use an excuse to get out of here…” She hisses through her teeth, glancing back and forth between the team and Luka.

“Well, we were going to rest for a little bit, but…”

“Yeah, let’s practice for now,” Shiho interjects, already turning to walk out of the shop.

“Aw, leaving so soon?” Luka croons, wiping cookie crumbs from the corner of her lip.

Feeling something tug at her heart, Airi suddenly chimes in, “You can come watch us rehearse, if you’d like…?”

At the offer, Luka seems to stutter and stop in place. Her eyes scan ahead of her, mouth hanging open as if she was going to say something but couldn’t vocalize the words. Still, she recovers quickly with a giggle and wave of her head. “No, no! I couldn’t intrude! Besides, Rin worked so hard to make these cookies, I can’t let them go to waste!” To prove her point, she reaches down and shoves another cookie in her mouth.

“Right, then…” Airi pauses, turning to look at the expectant looks of her teammates. With a small sigh, she shines a smile at them. “Let’s go!”

Sweat drips down into Airi’s eyes, turning the street before her into a bleary mess of vivid colors. Still, she keeps her balance steady, trying not to squint or blink in a futile attempt to focus her vision. It’s not like she hasn’t been through this type of rigorous practice before— her trainee idol days saw a lot of intense rehearsals.

That didn’t even amount to anything , Airi reminds herself, biting down on her lip, they didn’t even want you performing in your own group. That’s why they wanted you in variety, right? All those years of blistering feet and bruised knees, for what? Some TV show?

She miscalculates a minor placement of her foot, causing her ankle to nearly give out. There’s still sweat dripping into her eyes, blacking out her vision, but she somehow knows that the Vocaloids-turned-dance-coaches are staring her down with a disappointed frown. After all, it was her idea to add dances to their sets– how is she making the most mistakes out of everyone?

“Hey!” Miku cuffs her hands around her mouth, her shout reverberating through the street. “Why don’t you guys call it here for tonight? It’s just about evening.” 

“Seriously?!” Ena gapes, reaching out to grab her brother’s sweatshirt. “Mom’s gonna kill us if we’re not home for dinner!” 

“I know, geez,” he grumbles, but the panic in his eyes stays unhidden.

“I should probably head back too, then,” Shiho sighs, “My sister’s gonna get worried if I haven’t had dinner by the time she gets back from work.”

As Miku and Rin wave the three off, Airi paces in the center of the street. Furiously, she rubs a towel over her eyes, trying to get rid of the lingering sting of sweat in them. When the burning finally cools down and her vision comes to, she’s met by two wide, unblinking blue eyes staring right next to her face.

With a shock, Airi recoils with a squeal. “What the hell–!”

“Oh, did I scare you?” Luka closes her eyes, giggling. “My bad!”

“Why were you right next to my face?!” Airi yells, stumbling backwards.

Ignoring the question, Luka hums, tapping a finger to her chin, “Are you not going back with the others?”

Airi grits her teeth, entering a staring contest with the street’s gravel in order to avoid the Vocaloid’s soul-piercing gaze. “N– No…”

“Huh? But isn’t it dinner time…?” Luka’s voice lulls like a calm river stream, “I thought I heard Meiko go into the breakroom to cook up something…”

“I’ll eat later,” the former idol snaps, throwing her dampened towel over her shoulder, “I need to keep rehearsing.”

Luka’s hair cascades to the side as she tips her head a nearly full ninety degrees. She opens her mouth as if to ask another question, but another voice beats her to the punch.

“Oh, oh! If you’re staying, maybe I can run it with you this time?” Rin shouts, rushing over to join the conversation. Lazily, Miku trails behind, chuckling to herself at the younger girl’s antics.

“That’d be a big help,” Airi agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “Miku, Luka, wanna join?”

“Oh, no, I’m good!” The pink-haired Vocaloid cackles, voice echoing through the street. “I’ll just sit and watch.”

“Not even gonna offer to play the music?” Miku scolds with a sigh, to which Luka only answers with another round of airy laughter. “Guess I’ll stay in the coaching position, then,” she grumbles.

Rin pulls Airi into the center of the street before bouncing over into her own spot. Her bubbling energy radiates onto the former idol, allowing her to shake off the residual stress of the earlier practice.

Everything’s fine , she reminds herself, you know to dance. You spent your whole childhood training in dance. It was just… a fluke, or whatever, earlier…

“Hey, Airi!” Miku shouts, startling the girl out of her spiraling affirmations. “Ready?”

“Ready!” She beams back, shooting her best idol smile at the Vocaloid. Sure, she’s not having the best time right now, but adding the stress of other people trying to coddle her is just going to make her embarrassed. Besides, once she finally gets this dance down, everything will be fine. They don’t need to know.

“Ah– Airi!” Another voice calls out for her, and Airi whips over to see Luka waving at her from the sidewalk curb she’s settled on. “You’re so cute when you smile like that!”

A little flustered, but mostly stupefied, she only acknowledges her with a small, “Thanks…?”

Watching Miku lean over to press play on their portable speaker, Airi wills her body to loosen up, settling into her starting pose. In the corner of her eye, she sees Rin already waiting for the music, and tries to dispel any thoughts of how much more natural the other girl looks doing this.

The moment the first note sounds out, before she can even register that the song’s begun, Airi’s body is moving on autopilot. It’s like her limbs have been strung up with frayed yarn, turned weightless only to be pushed and pulled by an invisible puppeteer. Through fractured vision, a yellow-haired girl moves into her sight. It’s like watching an animation at its highest quality, where her movements ebb and flow into each other with no hesitation, completely certain of the next action ahead.

On the contrary, Airi's are made of clunky plastic. She jerks into the next step, and nearly collapses like a discarded doll. Without thought, her hand slams onto the concrete to catch herself. 

“Crap! Are you okay?!” Rin yelps, immediately running to her side.

“Yeah, I–” Airi gulps, hurrying back to her feet before anyone tries to help her up. “I just tripped over a pebble or something, I think! Everything’s fine!”

“Are you sure?” Miku questions, coming in close to thoroughly investigate Airi’s face for any traces of a lie.

“Don’t harass the poor girl!” Luka suddenly chimes in, “She’s probably embarrassed enough!” When the others turn around to look at the Vocaloid, still sitting on the curb, completely unbothered and unconcerned, she’s chewing on one of Rin’s cookies.

Somehow, this sets Rin off.

“Do you even care?!” The younger girl yells, fists balling up as she stomps the ground, seemingly throwing a temper tantrum on Airi’s behalf. “She could’ve twisted her ankle and been put out of a job for life, y’know! And you’re– you’re just sitting there! Eating cookies!”

Luka’s eyes widen, a hand moving to cover her mouth as she chews. After a few moments, she swallows, then lets out a loud, dramatic sigh. However, any sign of shame or remorse that could have been inferred is thrown aside as she coos, “But they’re so good~!”

“You–!” Rin starts, treading forward, but Airi steps in front of her warpath.

“It’s fine,” she insists. “I should probably leave for dinner, anyway.” The younger girl’s mouth hangs open, ready to protest but unsure how. Still, Airi ignores her, walking away to grab her phone and bag.

As the case of her phone rubs against her palm, she feels a burning sting. Hissing, she inspects the source– a small cut, red and inflamed, running across her life line. 

Distantly, she wonders if dolls can even bleed, and presses pause.

Sifting through a box of old wires, Shiho meticulously tries to unwind the knots connecting the cables. It’s a pointless job, really just busywork– most of the cables are too old or frayed to be used with their equipment. Yet somehow it’s worth doing such futile tasks, if just to be surrounded by the bustling environment of the livehouse for just a few hours more every day.

“Yo, Hinomori!” A voice suddenly perks up from behind her, a hand clapping against her back. If she had her sister’s constitution, Shiho would have jumped and screamed at the surprise greeting.

“What’s up?” She greets her co-worker, a man that’s her senior by only a few years, who’s known amongst the crew for refusing to wear anything but baggy clothes. He settles down on the floor next to her, pulling another mangled mess of wires out from the box and beginning to draw them apart.

“I went out for breakfast with some of the audio guys,” he starts, and Shiho’s just glad he’s at least helping with her workload if he’s going to tell her some trivial story. “We were talking about some of the groups participating in the event this weekend.”

He pauses, looking over at her with wide eyes, clearly trying to gauge her reaction. Knowing this, Shiho keeps her face still and blank. “Is that so?” She signals for him to continue, wishing he would just get to the point.

“Izumi said that your group’s gonna be in Saturday’s show.”

“Yep.”

“And that she met your group yesterday.”

“She did.”

“But it wasn’t just that guy you’ve mentioned...uh…A– Aki–?”

“Akito.”

“Akito! Yeah, but you have a full group now...?”

“Yeah.”

“It was like… Damn, what did she say? The guy’s sister and some idol?”

“Ena and Airi.”

“Right! Airi Momoi, I’ve seen her on TV.”

“Most people have,” Shiho sighs, dropping the ball of cables on her lap. “What’s this about?”

The man stammers, caught off-guard by his junior’s sudden forwardness, “W– Well some of us were just wondering, like, how it’s gonna work…”

“What do you mean, ‘work?’ ”

“Um… What it’s gonna be like having an idol perform here, I guess?” He avoids Shiho’s glare, tilting his head away from her. “I mean, should we hand out lightsticks at the entrance? Teach everyone a fanchant, or something…” He trails off with a chuckle, but quickly halts his laughter when he catches Shiho’s fiery scowl.

“She’s not an idol anymore,” she states, firm and certain. “She’s with my group, and we’ll be performing like any other group at the event. Don’t be stupid.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude!” He gasps, shaking his head. “We’re all just a little worried for you, Hinomori.”

Under his suddenly somber gaze, Shiho feels herself shudder. “Why? What’s there to worry about?”

“You’ve mentioned having dreams of going pro one day, and we all want the best for you, but…” He bites his tongue, looking puzzled at how to phrase his next sentence. “Teaming up with an idol… Is that the image you want? Not to mention, if she left her idol group, who’s to say she won’t leave you too? Will record labels want to sign an ex-idol? What if she’s just a rebelling child star using you to rebrand her own image? You need to be conscious of these types of things, Hinomori, if you really want to go pro.”

Abruptly, Shiho jumps to her feet. The forgotten entanglement of wires falls to the ground. 

“Sorry, I forgot that I have something to do.”

The man gasps, urging her to sit back down, “Wait, I didn’t mean–”

“I really have to go,” she remarks, taking her phone out of her sweatshirt pocket. “There’s someone I need to speak to.”

“That was amazing!” Rin gushes, bouncing back and forth on her feet as if she can’t physically contain her excitement. “Performing is such a rush!”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Miku teases, sticking out her tongue. “Though you totally missed Akito’s high note during the bridge.”

“Wh– I was just a little offkey! That was my first time doing it!” She argues back, placing her hands on her hips. “By tonight he’ll be begging me for vocal lessons!”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Airi chimes in, sarcastic. She throws her towel over her shoulder, having finished wiping her face down during Rin’s rant. “I bet he’ll–”

“Why are you here?” A new voice suddenly interjects, causing the trio to turn around in tandem. Walking over with crossed arms, Shiho stares down at them.

“Wha– Why are you here?” Airi retorts, startled by her sudden appearance.

“I came to ask Miku for some advice,” she responds matter-of-factly. Then, she admits, “I saw you practicing, so I waited to come over.”

“You were watching ?”

“Oh, oh! How did it look?” Rin waves her hand in the air, like a schoolgirl desperate to answer a question.

“Um…” Shiho looks off to the side, an unusually bashful expression on her face. “Do you want the honest answer?”

Airi blanches, looking down at her hands. The cut from last night is still visible, red and crusted and ugly.

“Miku pointed out the obvious for Rin, but Airi…”

She looks back up, but her vision’s pixelated and the cut stays burned on it.

“You were much stiffer than Rin was, and it looked like you were calculating the steps in your head, instead of just doing them,” Shiho explains. Then, she zeros her focus onto Airi’s eyes. “If I didn’t know you were a trained idol, I could easily guess so just by watching you.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Airi steps forward, biting her lip as she wills her hands to stay open. If she balls them into fists, she knows the cut will sting and remind her that Shiho’s right and then she’ll get even more pissed off– and she can’t handle that right now.

“People in the street scene are good at what they do, but they’re not perfect little ballerinas.”

“Are you serious?” Airi scoffs, mouth hung open in disbelief. “Some teammate you are…” She turns to sulk off somewhere in an alley, but Shiho grabs her shoulder and holds her in place before she can get far.

“I’m just telling you the truth,” she contends, “If you show up to this event and just rely on your former training, people will know and they’re going to make fun of you.”

The pink-haired girl lets out a cackle, harsh and lost of humor, shaking the hand off of her shoulder. “Is that what this is about? Are you embarrassed of me?”

Shiho only gasps, stepping back with wide eyes. Her hand still wavers in the air, poised in the shape of Airi’s shoulder.

She continues, pure rage filling her eyes, “Are you worried that I’ll ruin your reputation? That I’m going to ruin the whole show?” There’s a sting in her eyes, and it travels to her palm, and she has to bite her tongue to stop herself from choking on the vitriol spilling out of her mouth. “You said that people in the scene can be really pretentious, but I didn’t realize you were talking about yourself, too!”

“Airi…”

“I don’t know what more I have to do to prove that I’m really trying here! Why can’t you guys see me as more than my past?!” Finally, the tears overflow, and an ugly, squeaky sob hiccups out of her throat.

“Shiho, why don’t you go speak with Meiko?” Miku finally steps in, pulling the bassist away as Airi collapses in on herself. “She’ll probably give better advice than me, anyway,” she giggles softly, but it’s awkward and forced. Shiho nods silently, taking the hint, and walks towards the shop. Before opening the door, she looks back, watching as Miku grabs Airi’s hands and pulls her into a hug.

Quickly, she turns back around and throws the door open.

“I thought I heard some commotion outside,” Meiko greets, peering over her reading glasses. “Although I would’ve thought it was the siblings with how loud that argument was.”

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” Shiho trails off, standing awkwardly by the entrance.

“I’m just doing boring inventory stuff,” Meiko sighs, placing her pen back in a drawer. Leaning on the counter, she rests her head in her hands. She looks exhausted.

“Um… I was going to ask about something concerning Airi, but…”

“But you just had a huge argument with her and now the situation’s even more complicated?” Meiko guesses, smirking when her hypothesis is confirmed by Shiho’s shocked expression.

“Yeah, I, um…” She trails off, swallowing her words. Then, she shakes her head, the heat of the fight still making her thoughts fuzzy. “I’m just gonna cool off in the lounge for a bit..”

“Be my guest,” Meiko hums, gesturing outwards towards the room. 

Quietly, Shiho sounds her gratitude, shuffling into the lounge as quickly as she can. However, another voice calls out to her as soon as she enters, ending her solitude before it even began.

“Hiya, Shiho!” Luka bubbles, lazily waving a hand at her.

“Oh… Hi, Luka,” Shiho greets back, looking at the Vocaloid sprawled out on the couch. Awkwardly, she finds a place on the loveseat, sinking into the soft cushions.

“Quite the fight you had, huh?” The phantom of a smirk lingers on her lips, a mischievous glint shining through Luka’s eyes.

“You heard?”

“You were kinda loud,” the giggle finally escapes Luka’s throat. “Although, I guess it was just Airi shouting, yeah?”

“Ah, yeah…” Shiho looks away, unable to stomach the playful detachment that follows Luka around like a shadow anymore. Mindlessly, she scrunches up her sweatshirt in her hands.

Still, the Vocaloid yammers on, “Y’know, you should probably just tell her what you really mean.”

“Huh?” Shiho freezes up, hands locking around the fabric wrapped between them. “But… I did. I told her what I thought about her performance.”

“Yeah, but, you didn’t,” Luka purses her lips, squinting her eyes. However, when she tilts her head, looking like a confused puppy, Shiho can tell there’s no judgment or malice behind the expression.

“I did,” she insists, straightening her posture, “I was being completely honest.”

“Okay, but you didn’t say you meant,” Luka raises an eyebrow, which the younger girl takes as a challenge.

“You’re not saying what you mean!” She argues back, crossing her arms.

At this, Luka softly giggles, light and airy. “I suppose I’m a hypocrite, then!”

“Yes, yes you are,” the teenager huffs, pushing herself back to her feet. “I’m just gonna head back to the real world.”

“Ah… This always happens,” Luka mewls, faking a dramatic pout. “Is my company that unwanted?”

“You’re just a bit much,” Shiho admits, averting her gaze once more. “You always just say and do what you want to.”

“Is that a bad thing?” She asks, void of any teasing or sarcasm like usual. It’s a straightforward, honest question.

One that Shiho doesn’t know the answer to. Without a response, she pauses the song on her phone.

Airi throws a tissue into the trash can, but it bounces off of the amassed pile of other used tissues and onto the floor. Sniffling, she leans over to properly dispose of it.

“I can’t believe I let that get to me so badly…” She mumbles to herself, rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Airi?” A small voice pipes up, making the girl startle with a gasp. When she turns around, her younger sister’s head is poking through a crack in her bedroom’s door.

“Huh? Do you need me for something?” Airi quickly tries to fix her frazzled hair, hoping she doesn’t look too disheveled for just coming down from a total meltdown. In the back of her mind, she wonders if Ena would chastise her for ‘stealing her brand’ if she saw what happened in the SEKAI.

“I thought I heard you crying,” her sister admits, voice still meek and low.

Crap! Immediately, Airi plasters a wide grin onto her face, forcing out a laugh. “Oh, it was just my allergies acting up! I saw the cutest little kitty on my way home and couldn’t resist giving it a pet!” The lie slips through her teeth so easily, but her sister’s too young to understand the totality of the real situation, so she only feels a little guilty about it.

“Hmm…” The girl hums, stumbling into the room, “I don’t like it when you’re upset. You’re an idol who spreads cheer, so I want to spread cheer to you this time!”

Without warning, Airi’s suddenly enveloped in a small, but immensely warm, hug. Her sister’s arms are barely long enough to reach around her whole back, but her body turns fuzzy at the gesture all the same.

Still, she corrects, “I’m not an idol anymore, though. You remember that, right?”

The younger girl removes her arms from her sister, leaving a cold freeze to wash over Airi. She shudders, knowing that she’s ruined the moment.

“...You’re not singing anymore?” The girl’s eyes gleam with tears, sending Airi into panic.

“No, no! I’m with a different group now–” She stops herself, now unsure if she should even declare that with such confidence anymore. Quickly, she reframes the reassurance, “I’m going to keep performing for as long as I possibly can. I’ll even sing for you right now!”

“Right now?!” Her sister gasps, suddenly energized.

“Yep! I’ll show you an extra special song that no one except a select few people have even heard yet,” Airi pats her sister’s head, watching her beam back with unadulterated excitement.

She jumps to her feet, letting her sister take her chair. Miming a microphone in her hand, she winks and points down at her sister. “Are you ready?!” She shouts into her hand, watching as the little girl squeals back.

“Let’s go!” On her own cue, she jumps into the routine. As her audience’s face lights up in complete awe, there’s no splintered vision, or burning cut on her palm, or sweat pooling through her eyelids– just a genuine, beautiful smile beaming up at her. 

Somehow, the strings coiled around her arms seem to fray and snap on their own. 

“I love you!” Airi shouts into her faux-microphone, laughing through the next line of lyrics.

“I love you too!” The audience shouts back, swinging her feet with the rhythm.

The next morning, Airi groans, blindly slapping around her mattress to find her phone. Its incessant alarm continues to blare through skull, a sharp reminder that it’s time for her to get up and sneak into the SEKAI before anyone else shows up for their pre-show practice.

While her argument with Shiho may have killed her enthusiasm for the event, her in-house performance rekindled her spark just as quickly, and now she’s ready to do some last-minute cramming to perfect their routine.

As soon as she finds herself back on the familiar street, Rin’s already rushing up to her side, begging to run through the song again. Behind her, Miku and Luka wander over from Meiko’s shop.

“You’re in luck, ‘cus that’s why I’m here!” Airi beams at her, making the Vocaloid squeal with excitement. Warmly, she smiles at her, thinking that her animated gestures remind her of her sister.

Oh, idea!

“Actually, could I ask that I run through it with Miku first?” Watching the girl’s posture deflate, she quickly adds, “Then you can hop in after that!”

“Fine, fine!” The Vocaloid nods furiously, eager to get through the first run. “Hurry up, Miku! You’re on!”

“Geez, don’t rush me!” Miku shouts back, but jogs into position anyway.

However, Rin pauses before starting the music, looking the other Vocaloid up and down. “That’s not where you start,” she utters, looking miffed at such a simple mistake.

“What?! I’m just copying you!” Miku contends, crossing her arms.

“I’ve never started in that spot!” Rin yells back, but then looks off to the side. “Have I…?” She whispers to herself, then shakes her head. “I’ve never!”

“Is it that important…?” Airi asks, but her question goes unnoticed under the shouting match that’s broken out between the two Vocaloids.

“You’re both wrong,” Luka suddenly chimes in, finally having sauntered up to the rehearsal space. “Rin’s definitely started in that position before, but it’s not the right spot. You’re supposed to be further off to Airi’s left.”

“Wh– What?” Rin gawks, completely forgoing her argument with Miku.

“She’s right,” Airi confirms, but furrows her brows in puzzlement. “But how did you know that? You haven’t been helping us practice, like, at all. ”

“Hmm?” Luka hums, tilting her head. “I was, though. I watched you guys so that I could pick up everything, even the small little details, like your starting poses!”

“You… You care?! ” Rin looks ready to pass out, overcome with disbelief.

“Of course I do!” Luka confirms with a soft smile. “I’m just caring in my own way.”

“That’s our Luka for you,” Miku shakes her head, seeming more amused than utterly astonished like the other girl.

Still, Airi probes, “Why didn’t you just tell us that you’re trying to be helpful?”

Luka simply shrugs, as if her answer is common sense. “People will make assumptions of you based on their basic perceptions. I know that I’m a bit carefree and lazy, so it’s hard for others to take me seriously. I’m not going to waste my time and energy trying to convince them of something they don’t want to be convinced of. I’ll just continue on as I am!”

Airi shudders and freezes, like a computer in the process of bluescreening. A small, “Oh,” escapes her breath, but she tries to shake the strange feeling washing over her. “Let’s… Let’s start the song.”

After a while, a chorus of footsteps approaches from behind the group. “You’ve already started?” Akito questions, throwing a backpack onto the ground.

“Just for a bit…” Airi mumbles, a little embarrassed to be caught in the act.

“Alone?” Ena rasps, rubbing at her eyes. Then, she yawns, whining, “You stupid music people and your need to get up so early to practice…”

“Ena, it’s noon,” Akito notes, glaring over at her.

“This is my equivalent to seven in the morning!”

“That’s a normal time to get up for school.”

“That’s why I take night classes!”

Turning away from the sibling squabble, Shiho meets Airi’s gaze. “You’re not overworking yourself, are you?”

“Why? You have a problem with me putting the effort in, too?” Airi scowls, immediately jumping on the defensive. “I’m not just going to give up, so save your breath.”

“Um… Did we miss something?” Ena falters, stepping forward in case she has to stop her friend from getting physical.

“They had a little argument,” Miku interjects, not wanting the girls to start fighting over their previous fight. “Or, a big argument, actually.”

“What? Why?” Ena looks between the girls, concerned.

“It doesn’t matter,” Akito interrupts, “We have an event in eight hours, and we still need to practice. Whatever personal drama you have is getting put on the backburner for the rest of the day, okay?”

Airi sighs, studying the gravel on the street. “Alright, got it.”

With Miku’s help, the group figures out a schedule for practice, starting with quick solo runs, then several hours of working as a full group, and ending with a small break to recoup before the event starts.

To both her joy and gratitude, Airi falls last in the solo practice line-up. As the other three take their turns, she finds herself getting lost in her thoughts instead of contributing to the advice panel. Somehow, sitting on the street curb, she feels more out of her element than ever.

Looking at the others' singing, there’s a certain presence that Airi feels, glowing and radiating from afar. It reminds her of the nights she would come home from a TV studio, looking up QT’s latest performance that happened to overlap with her filming schedule. Fidgeting with Happy Everyday’s mask between her fingers, she would let her groupmate’s idol glow provide her warmth in the cold subway cars, even if it was only through the small phone screen.

Sometimes, though, that warmth came from the bubbling rage festering inside her chest. The ridges of the mask were uncomfortably bumpy, and the edges jaggedly sharp.

When she would rejoin the group in the following days, shaking with excitement to finally be on stage again, none of the other girls would speak to her. Still, she carried on– “anything to be on stage again” became her motto. 

Eventually, those days on the stage would become few and far between. She stopped watching QT’s shows in private, the rage growing to be too much to contain and spilling over.

The last time she stood on a stage next to QT, her body was ice cold. The pointed spotlights, the cheering crowd, the energetic dances– none of it could warm her. Not only did she feel like a stranger in her own group, she felt like a stranger in her own skin.

A few days later, her manager called her “average.” Airi terminated her contract.

Who lets an average performer on stage, anyway? That’s why she didn’t fit in with QT, and why she doesn’t fit in with this group, either.

Anything to be on stage, though. That’s why there’s a cut on her hand, that’s why her feet are blistering again, that’s why she continues to let her ego be bruised–

“Great job, Airi!” Luka beams, shocking the girl back to reality. She looks around, startled and flustered, and realizes that she’s already gone through her solo already.

Before she has time to register her lapse in clarity, Luka prattles on, “It’s amazing how everyone can sing the same song but have their own styles! Like how Shiho’s is very cool and strong, Akito’s got this fiery passion to his voice, Ena’s is smooth and sweet, and Airi brings an air of professionalism with a spark unique to herself!”

“That’s…” Airi begins to protest, but catches herself. “Thank you, Luka.”

A spark unique to myself? She ponders, she says that like it’s a good thing, but isn’t that the problem?

Her three teammates start to move, preparing for the long hours of group rehearsal ahead of them.

But if we all have an individual flair, like Luka said, then…

Isn’t it fine?

The time passes in a blur, and before they know it, they’re huddled backstage, set to go on next. Akito’s giving some pep talk, but Airi’s more focused on how foreign the atmosphere feels. She knows what it’s like to be backstage, she knows what it’s like to perform on stage, she knows what pre-show jitters feel like– she’s intimately familiar with these things.

However, in this particular venue, it feels like she’s stepped into another dimension. The stagehands frantically making sure the venue’s not going to collapse are all young volunteers, not the professional managers she’s used to seeing. There’s an almost suffocating air of musk and sweat permeating the small space, instead of an amalgamation of her group’s floral perfumes. Her fluffy, frilly idol dress has transformed into a pair of sweatpants hanging off of her waist. 

Even though it’s strange, and a little frightening, it’s not unwelcome.

“Geez, you’re all fired up,” Ena groans, loud enough to shake Airi from spiraling yet again. “It’s so weird to see you like this!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Akito glares at her.

“It’s just, like, you’re my little brother– I taught you how to use a toilet– and now you’re being so confident and leader-like… It’s weird!”

“Was the toilet comment really necessary?!”

The audience erupts into thunderous applause, and Shiho snaps the siblings out of another argument. “C’mon, we’re on!”

Wordlessly, Airi follows them onto stage, letting Akito take care of hyping the crowd up. Looking out into the sea of people below her, she almost gasps at the faces peering up at her. The venue is incredibly small compared to the arenas she’s been in with QT, but she’s never performed for such a diverse crowd before. She’s used to creepy older men and sweet little girls, not a sweeping array of different people.

Clutching onto her microphone, Airi takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

You’re on stage again, she reminds herself, this isn’t new. You’ve been training since middle school. Just do what comes naturally.

Cracking her eyelids open, the audience peers back. There’s quite a few faces squinting directly at her, leaning over and confirming with their friends that, yes, former idol and variety show star Airi Momoi is performing at their favorite dinky little livehouse right now.  

So, Airi beams her brightest idol smile back at them, cracking her knuckles against the mic.

“Are you ready?!” She shouts out into the crowd, pointing down with a wink.

The stage trembles with their roaring response, and her idol smile quickly shifts into a real, bolstering grin.

“Holy shit,” Ena huffs, finally detaching herself from the water bottle she’s just downed in one swoop. “Why was that so exhausting? Holy shit!”

“Maybe if you got out a little more…” Akito teases, exhilaration from another successful event leaving him jittery and weightless.

“Shut up!” Ena retorts, slapping his arm, but still doubles over with laughter into his side. He wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer. “We did well, right? I felt like we did well!”

“Definitely,” Akito nods, unable to hide his proud smile. “I think Airi should be in charge of our introduction from now on, though. She’s clearly more charismatic than me.”

“Huh?” Airi gasps, stopping mid-bite of her granola bar.

“You’re so right!” Ena agrees, giggling. “Everyone lost their minds when you winked at them. Probably ‘cus you’re so freaking cute!”

“Stop it…” She mumbles, feeling heat rise up to her cheeks. “You both suck,” she adds, pouting a little bit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ena rolls her eyes, pulling her phone out of her tote bag. “Oh, is it already past midnight? We should probably head back home, Akito.”

“Why? It’s not like dad cares,” he points out.

“Yeah, but it’s almost your bedtime, mister!”

“Airi’s right. You suck,” he states flatly, but doesn’t argue against her.

“Are we disbanding for the night, then?” Shiho finally perks up, to which the rest of the group nods. Sharing farewells, the Shinonomes are the first to head out.

As Airi packs up her belongings and turns to follow, Shiho suddenly grabs her shoulder. “Wait! We need to talk.”

“Y’know, I’m actually feeling pretty good about myself right now, so–”

“Good. You should be.”

“What?” Airi sputters, brain malfunctioning and blanking at the sudden turn in conversation.

“You were great tonight– probably the best out of all of us,” Shiho explains. “Luka said it already, but you really do have a certain spark that none of us could even hope to replicate.”  

Seeing the utter bafflement crossing Airi’s face, she just sighs and continues, “Speaking of Luka, I had a conversation with her after our fight. To be honest, I didn’t really get what she was talking about at first, but I think I get it now.”

“What did she tell you?” Airi asks, voice unusually small.

“She told me to be honest with you. So, I’m going to.” Shakily, she inhales. “I didn’t mean to upset you, or insinuate that you or your past is embarrassing to me. I just… I had a chat with one of my co-workers that freaked me out a little, and I was worried that we were setting you up for ridicule, or even failure, by letting you do this event.”

“Shiho…”

“I wanted to help you, but it came out wrong, and I didn’t–”

Suddenly, Airi seizes both of the younger girl’s shoulders, rattling her slightly. “Shiho, it’s fine,” she urges. “Don’t beat yourself up. Clearly, we had some miscommunication between us,” she pauses to chuckle.

“So you’re not mad?”

“Not anymore,” Airi affirms with a nod. “I was super pissed at you for the past two days, though.”

“I think I would be more concerned if you weren’t,” Shiho admits with a small laugh.

Smiling, and re-energized by the reconciliation, Airi reaches up to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Well, I’ll be heading off then.” She turns to leave, but pauses to shoot her a beaming grin once more. “See you in the SEKAI tomorrow!”

Shiho watches as Airi’s ponytail bounces as she saunters off, the moonlight getting caught in the bleached tips. 

“See you!” She shouts back.

Chapter Text

With a dissonant strum, emitting sound screeching into the air, An groans and drops into a nearby chair. “Honami…” She groans, clutching the neck of her guitar, “Is Mercury in retrograde or whatever?”

“Um… No?” The drummer responds meekly, heat rising to her face, “The next retrograde should be in a few months. Why do you ask?”

“‘Cus this stupid guitar refuses to cooperate with me anymore!” An whines, discarding it against a student desk. “No matter how I tune it, it doesn’t sound right! What the hell do I do?”

“I’m not sure, but,” Honami hesitates, before giving in to her curiosity, “What does Mercury’s retrograde have to do with it?”

“Isn’t that, like, a thing? It’s supposed to make bad things happen, or something.”

“That’s not really factual…” Honami frowns, scratching at her cheek.

“Isn’t that more astrological than astronomical?” Kanade finally chimes in, looking up from her notebook full of sprawling compositions.

“What’s the difference?” Miku questions, pouting as she leans her chin on her fist.

Honami’s eyes widen as she scrambles to explain, “Oh! You see–”

Leaning over the back of a chair, Rui turns his attention to the scrappy, little automaton whirring between his fingers. Gently, he pushes a protruding gear into its box of a body, trying to obscure it despite the cog’s width shadowing the entire component. As if sounding its gratitude, the machine rejoices with a chirping noise.

He almost replies with a tender welcome, but the group of girls across the classroom suddenly erupt in a burst of laughter. With a start, his hands accidentally release the robot, sending it clattering to the floor. It disperses into a sea of parts on impact, some of which are still twitching with their last breaths of energy.

Oh, well, he stands up, brushing his uniform off, the parts didn’t fit together anyway.

Wordlessly, he begins to walk over to the desk by the door, where he’s left a mess from his tinkering. Ignoring the disarray, he pulls his phone out of the clutter, and begins to look for the track that can pull him out of this world. However, just as he’s about to press pause, a blur passes by the open crack in the door, grabbing his attention.

A small “Oh?” escapes his lips, as he turns his body towards the door with wide eyes. His sudden noise attracts the attention of the girls from across the SEKAI’s classroom.

“Rui? Is something wrong?” An suddenly asks, peering over Honami’s head to look at him.

“No, not at all,” he shakes his head, “I’m just going to go explore this place a little more…” Cautiously, he slides the door back so he can peer around the corner. There’s no one there, but he can’t help but feel curious.

“Do you want someone to come with you?” She hesitantly stands up from the desk she was leaning over. “You might get lost…”

With a slight smirk, Rui shakes his phone in his hand, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll be fine. I can just leave if I lose my way.”

“Ah–!” An reaches her hand out, but the older boy’s already turned on his heel and sped out of the room, swiftly sliding the door behind him as if to warn, don’t come near.

Glancing both ways down the hallway, Rui hums to himself, finding the coast clear. He sets off down the right path, following in the steps of the fleeting shadow he saw. The unfamiliar school seems to be an intricate labyrinth, with its winding corridors and countless doors leading to mysterious rooms. Each turn holds the promise of discovery, and Rui finds his curiosity burns brightly within him, fueling his determination to uncover the mystery person lurking in the halls.

As he pursues the elusive figure, his heart races with anticipation, and a sense of adventure courses through his veins. It’s akin to the feeling of evading the Phoenix Wonderland security guards after yet another one of his guerilla shows fizzles to an end, but now he’s assumed the role of the predator stalking the prey. The echo of his footsteps reverberates off the walls, filling the silent air with a rhythmic beat. The school's ambiance drones both eerie and captivating, with flickering fluorescent lights casting long, ghostly shadows along the hallways. A thin layer of dust covering the cold, tiled floors shows the neglected state of the building, but Rui presses onwards, only concerned with the questions flooding his mind.

Who else could be here? Is it another Vocaloid, or someone who can access this SEKAI as well? Why haven’t they approached any of us before? Have they been able to access the SEKAI before we could, or are they a newcomer as well? Do they know why this school is in such a sorry state? If they’re able to evade me like this, then surely they hold some knowledge about this school and the overall existence of this SEKAI–

“What is it?” A low voice cuts through his sprawling thought process, echoing from behind him. With a small gasp, Rui jumps at the sudden interjection and whips around to meet the stranger, doing his best to collect himself. He meets a pair of glittering brown eyes, belonging to a woman with cropped, unstyled hair and donning an untidy uniform. Peeking from behind a classroom door,  she stares at with a prickling curiosity. It’s one that he’s only ever seen in the mirror, like she’s dissecting him inside and out inside of her mind.

Ah. Rui clicks his tongue, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Meiko, right?” Seeing her eyes widen, and the way she leans back ever-so-slightly, he assumes he’s guessed correctly and continues, “What are you doing out here?”

Immediately, she bites back, “What are you doing out here?” Mirroring the smirk on Rui’s face, she taps her fingers on the side of the door. “Shouldn’t you be with your bandmates?”

“They’re doing just fine without me,” he posits, shaking his head. “Are you hiding from us? Miku and Luka, too? Why is that?”

A small frown forms on Meiko’s face, the playful spark in her eyes dimming. “I’m not hiding,” she contends, voice firm, “I’m just… walking around.”

“You’re hiding behind that door right now,” he notes. Immediately, she takes her hand off of it and steps into the hallway, embarrassment evident from her expression.

“Why did you follow me?” She steers the conversation, crossing her arms. “Are you just trying to be snarky? Hm?”

“Not at all,” he assures her, shaking his head, “I was simply trying to satisfy my own curiosity. You don’t have to answer if you wish not to.”

“Then, I wish not to,” she huffs back, averting her gaze from the taller boy.

With a small hum, Rui nods to himself. Meiko’s attitude is as intuitive as his own, but with a certain reserve he had to teach himself to show. So, he figures it’s best to simply move on from his mini-interrogation and show the secretive newcomer some affability.

“In that case, would you like to sit down and chat for a little?” Gently, he motions towards the classroom behind Meiko with a single hand. “You don’t have to answer any questions about you or your intentions, but I am curious about the nature of this SEKAI in general. Perhaps you could entertain me for a moment?”

Shifting her eyes back up, Meiko hesitates for a second. Rui can nearly see the calculations and possibilities playing out in her head before she finally concedes, sighing out, “Okay, fine. Let’s chat.”

After moving into the classroom and pulling two desks together, the two tentatively fall into a simple back-and-forth, with Meiko laying her head in her arms and Rui leaning against the back of a chair.

“Is this SEKAI really formed from our feelings?”

“Yes…”

“How is that possible?”
“It just is…”

“Would you say that some of us have more influence over the SEKAI than others?”

“Why are you asking that?”
“Nevermind then. Is this school the entire SEKAI?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is there a city beyond the school? Can we even leave the school? I haven’t seen an exit, although, I haven’t gotten the chance to explore very far yet…”

“Then why don’t you go look for yourself?”

“Hm, fair enough. Then, do other SEKAI exist–?”
“Hey, Rui!” A new voice suddenly calls out. When he tilts his head over towards the door, a familiar girl with blue hair is waving at him. “Honami and Kanade left a few minutes ago, and I’m gonna head out now to help my dad at the cafe,” An relates with a small, but awkward, smile. “So, um, if you want to leave too, you can! But, ah…” She trails off, looking over at the new face.

Rui follows her gaze, to where Meiko still hasn’t looked from the desk. “She’s been like that,” he chuckles softly, pushing himself up onto his feet. “I suppose I should take my leave as well. I’ll see you at school, An.”

The younger girl gasps, slapping a hand over her mouth. “I completely forgot we go to the same school! I’ve been hanging out with Honami and Kanade so much, I got used to being the only Kamiyama kid…”

There’s no pang in Rui’s heart, and no hitch in his breath. At least, if he pretends there’s not. “I’ll see you at school,” he repeats, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

The morning dew mixes with the cool air, creating an uncomfortably sticky but cold atmosphere that clings onto An’s skin. Shivering slightly, she crosses her blazer over her torso, trying to trap as much heat as possible close to her body. Across from her, the other student on gate duty giggles lightly.

“Should’ve brought a jacket…” The girl jests, shoving her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt.

“H– Hey!” An whines back, “It’s not my fault that I didn’t look at the weather before I left!

“It quite literally is…” She mumbles back, shaking her head. When she looks back up, the girls’ eyes suddenly widen, a small gasp escaping her lips.

Yet, An doesn’t notice her abrupt shift in demeanor, continuing on, “How was I supposed to know it would be so cold? It’s not even autumn yet!”

“Shh!” The girl suddenly shushes her, eyes peering behind the gate wall, beyond An. “That weird second-year guy is coming!”

“Huh?” Showing no humiliation, An turns around to the sidewalk. There’s a few students bounding up, spread out in groups, but she immediately zeros in on the one person walking on their lonesome– her band’s very own bassist, Rui Kamishiro.

“What do we do?” The other girl pipes up, voice hushed but panicked.

“Um…” An turns back to her, raising an eyebrow. “The same as always?”

“Ah, right!” She nods her head, stamping a fist against her palm. “You’re always so level-headed, An!”
“Thanks…?”

Before either of them can continue, the subject of their conversation steps between them, walking through the school gate. He doesn’t say hello, or even show any form of acknowledgement towards An’s existence, and she frowns a little. After all, they were hardly strangers anymore– they were bandmates!

With a sigh, she decides to just assume that he hadn’t realized it was her, instead of presuming his rudeness. In any way, she’s snapped out of her thoughts by the realization that the boy in question is toting a very heavy-looking bag, metal clanging against his side.

“Hey, Rui!” She calls out to him, making the other girl on duty gasp loudly. “What’s in your bag?”

Slowly, he turns on his heel to face her. A small smirk lays on his face, and he adjusts the strap of his bag. Inside, its contents shuffle and audibly bang against each other. “This? Oh, it’s really nothing.”

“Really?” An sighs, crossing her arms. “Then you’ll let me look inside it, right? And I won’t find anything worth confiscating?”

Pulling the bag a little closer to his side, Rui teases, “Shouldn’t you show a little leniency towards your bandmates? I promise you that there’s nothing egregiously dangerous in this bag.”

“Even if there’s something a little bit dangerous in your bag, I’d have to confiscate it!” An huffs, “Besides, it’s not like you even joined practice last night!”

Somehow, Rui’s smirk grows a little more rigid, slightly strained. Still, he easily responds, “Wasn’t your practice just a chat amongst friends, anyhow? I don’t recall any instruments actually being played…”

“Uh– well– that’s–!” An stammers, trying to find a way to justify their lack of any real rehearsal. “Y–Y’know, my guitar broke, so…!”

Rui only tilts his head, feigning an innocent undertone to his reply, “You’re also the vocalist though, aren’t you?”

Clenching her fists at her sides, An seethes in her oversight for a moment, before finally conceding with a sigh. “Fine, just go. But don’t do anything that will get us both in trouble!”

Giving her a small bow, Rui chuckles. “Don’t worry. I would never.”

After waving him off, An returns her attention to her fellow committee member, who is gawking at her in complete shock. “Wha— You seriously stood up to that guy like that?!”

“ That guy? ” For a moment, she laughs. “It’s just Rui…”

“Did he say that you two are bandmates? You’re in a band with him? ”

“Yeah?” Frowning a bit at the girl’s concerned tone, An shifts awkwardly in place. “Is that a bad thing?”

“He just… Y’know…” The girl trails off, adding to the uncomfortable tension forming between them. “He has a reputation. It’s a bit worrying…”

“I feel like you’re being a bit dramatic,” An chuckles, but there’s no humor behind it. “He’s always been pretty quiet around us. Maybe a little teasing, but nothing out of the ordinary for friends, I think.”

“Seriously?” The girl shakes her head, seemingly not pleased with this anecdote. “He must be planning something. I’ve heard from people that know his classmates that he’s always drawing out these weird and dangerous schemes during class. You should really be careful around him, An!”

  “Really?” Hesitating for a moment, An squints her eyes at the pavement. “Those are just rumors, right? They’re probably just exaggerating…” She trails off, giving a strained chuckle.

“Ah, sh…” Rui trails off, raising his hand up to look at the damage. A bright blue stain lays on the side of his palm, matching the equally-as-bright smudge on his notebook. He takes a moment to pity the mess he’s made of a perfectly good page before flipping it over and starting over. Normally, he wouldn’t care about a regular ink smudge, but he can’t afford any mistakes on a final sketch. After all, if even one part gets messed up, the entire robot can malfunction.

His current work-in-progress is a simple one, at least in comparison to some of his previous creations, but it’s still been causing him grief, if the dark circles under his eyes are any testament to the hours he’s already spent on it. Of course, the mechanics and schematics were already figured out in the first hour of planning. The biggest challenge he’s been facing is the overall appearance of it. Aesthetics were never his strong suit, and he doesn’t want this particular robot to come across as mechanical at all– it’ll ruin the show entirely. He didn’t want to admit it, but the ordeal was starting to wear him down.

Pressing pen against paper, he tries to resume his work. However, whether it’s his classmates suddenly raising their voices, or the stress making him more sensitive than usual, the voices from behind him suddenly pierce his ears.

“Hey, I heard Phoenix Wonderland opened up a new stage last week…”

“...Okay? Since when did you go there to watch the shows?” A chastising voice responds.

“Since that one girl from Cheerful*Days started working there.”

“Oh, of course. You and your idols…”

“Right…” Rui mumbles to himself, sitting back upright from hunching over his desk. “Maybe I should head there after school…”

And that’s how Rui finds himself in the center of Phoenix Wonderland, an array of his self-made robots and portable set displays layed out in front of him. He hadn’t even taken the time to change into the show outfit an old friend of his had tailored just for him, having beelined for the theme park as soon as classes ended.

Despite working on his new robot for the whole school day, he was left with no satisfactory designs by dismissal. So, perhaps, it was his frenzy to find any source of inspiration that’s left him scrambling to set up all of his props and get his guerilla show started already.

A small crowd, confused by his frantic setup, has formed around him. Some parents clutch onto their kids’ hands, unsure if he’s a worker at the park or just some random highschool kid starting trouble. While Rui wouldn’t call his shows “trouble,” he would admit that it was the more truthful option of the two.

Before he can lose the crowd’s interest, he stands up front and center, and starts to shout out to them, “Welcome, everyone! What you’re about to witness is–”

“Not you again!” A certain gruff voice suddenly yells over him, a scene all too familiar to Rui. Normally, he would just adlib a snarky little send-off and run off, but he couldn’t help but feel a flame of real agitation flicker in his chest this time.

“Ah… It seems this show will have to end before it begins.” Concealing his frown from the audience, Rui collects his props as quickly as he had set them out, and makes a mad dash towards the park’s exit.

Cutting through the crowd around him, his over-packed bag slams against his back, nearly sending him toppling over his own feet. Still, he presses on, regaining his balance and sprinting through the mass of park-goers in the walkways. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the security guard right behind him, echoing in his ears in time with his pounding heartbeat.

He had to lose the guard, and fast. Rui was by no means an athletic person, and he had severely underestimated how difficult it would be to flee with the amount of props he had brought. 

With a sharp inhale, he cuts the corner of a small building, hand scraping against brick as he propels himself forward. He narrowly avoids slamming into a woman walking by, who shrieks in surprise at his sudden appearance. Ignoring the scolding that follows, he gasps as he sees the signage for the building– a bathroom, perfect, this worked last time, so – and he beelines straight towards the door. 

Not even looking for other patrons, he kicks the door behind him and bolts into one of the stalls. Breathing heavily, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls to the bottom of his music library. The last thing he hears as he presses play is the bathroom door slamming back open, a familiar stomp behind it.

When his surroundings fade from a blinding white into the now-familiar school hallways, he nearly falls to his knees in relief. He stumbles forward, sliding the nearest classroom door open so he can sit down–

“Rui?”

Caught off-guard, he gasps, looking back up only to meet Luka’s worried gaze. The Vocaloid stands up, her seat sliding out from under her. Below her, a certain white-haired girl stares at him with wide eyes, her hands hovering over a laptop.

“Ah, apologies…” Rui gasps out, wiping some sweat from his brow. “I don’t mean to intrude. I’m only hiding from someone.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound any less concerning…” Luka mumbles, shaking his head.

“Are you in danger?” Kanade speaks up, voice small.

“No, not at all,” he insists, not wanting them to misconstrue the situation. “The only thing that’s in danger is my season pass to Phoenix Wonderland, aha…”

“What…?” The smaller girl breathes out, tilting her head.

However, Luka seems to catch on immediately, her face dropping into a judgmental glare. “Rui, did you get in trouble with–”
“Enough about me!” He cuts her off, waving his hand lazily through the air. Ambling forward, he leans over to look at Kanade’s laptop. “Hm? Are you working?”

“I had this idea for a song,” she mumbles, “I couldn’t sleep until I got it right, so I came here to get some feedback…”

“It’s nearly evening time…?” Rui’s voice lilts with confusion.

“Is it?” Kanade mutters, “It’s hard to keep track of time in this place…”

“Hey, don’t act like I didn’t tell you to leave for lunch earlier!” Luka interjects, pursing her lips.

“Oh, right, sorry…” She trails off, looking sheepish. “I just can’t leave this song alone until I get it right.”

“I understand,” Rui nods, looking up. His gaze finds the chalkboard, where some basic diagrams made by Honami are still present, peppered with crude doodles from An. Standing atop a crooked circle labeled Ganymede is a spotted rabbit-like figure, hoisting a star-patterned flag above its chubby body. He blinks a few times, unsure of why that particular drawing caught his attention, then clears his throat to continue, “Sometimes I’ll get stuck while scripting a show, or designing the robots for it, and it feels like if I don’t figure it out in that session, then I’ll lose that moment forever.”

Kanade hesitates for a second, then nods. “Right. It’s like the momentum just dies out…” Her eyes flicker over to Rui’s bag, then back to his face. “Um, speaking of your robots, are there some in your backpack?”

“Oh!” He snaps his head back to her, nodding. “A few. I was going to perform a show at Phoenix Wonderland, but…” He catches Luka’s glare, and shakes his head instead. “Nevermind.”

“Can I see one?” Kanade asks, but quickly adds, “If that’s fine with you, of course.”

With a small chuckle, Rui agrees, “Sure, let’s see…” He slides his bag onto the desks that have been pushed together, and starts to look for a relatively small and simple one. A tiny silver-coated mechanical dove catches his eye, and he pulls it out to present to the girl. “Here, you can hold it.”

Gingerly, Kanade lets Rui place it into her palm. It makes a sudden yet small chirrup, causing her to gasp in surprise. Still, she makes sure to hold it close, not wanting to accidentally destroy the boy’s hard work. 

“There’s a small switch on the back…” Rui notes, gesturing for her to flick it. Kanade turns it in her palm, bringing it close to her face to find the switch. She squints, but eventually finds it. With his encouragement, she slides the small pin upwards.

The mechanical dove starts buzzing between her fingers, whirring to life. Its wings begin to flap, mimicking a real bird, and it soon escapes her grasp. Her eyes light up with inspired surprise, watching the robot glide up into the air. The dove chatters in the air, its parts rattling against each other to create an unusual but euphonious sort of white noise. Watching the sheer wonder infect her usually subdued expression, Rui can’t help but smile himself. 

Slowly, Kanade starts to tap her finger against the desk, mouthing something inaudible as she trails the bird’s flight with her eyes. However, she soon turns her attention to Rui. He can practically see the cogs turning in her head.

“Hey, do you mind if I sample this?” She asks, seeming a little nervous. “I’d have to take it out of the SEKAI to record it, so it’s okay if–”

“Keep it,” Rui interrupts, shoving his hands in his pocket. “I don’t even use it in any of my shows. Consider it a token of our collaboration.”

“Oh? Are you sure?”

The robot flutters down between them, its whirring slowing to a halt as it clatters onto the desk.

“Positive.” 

Soon after, Kanade leaves the SEKAI, dove clutched between her hands like it’ll fade into nonexistence if she can’t feel its touch. Luka sends her off with a warning not to return until she’s eaten dinner and had a full night’s rest, which she reluctantly agrees to. Rui fills her space, dumping his oversized bag on the ground and pulling out his notebook. 

“You’re staying?” Luka gives him an awkward smile, settling back down at the desk across from him.

“Yeah, I should probably wait until the park’s closed,” he sighs, clicking his pen, “I don’t want to reappear when someone’s in the stall.”

Luka pauses for a moment, processing that statement, before rubbing her eyes. “I’m… not even going to touch that subject.” With a groan, she relaxes back into her seat. “What are you working on?”

“A robot,” he replies without hesitance, staring down at the page below him.

“Hm? You seem a bit troubled though.” Luka lowers her a bit, trying to catch his gaze and he focuses on his notebook. “I thought inventing was your forte?”

“Well, I suppose, yes,” Rui hums, tapping the tip of his pen against his paper, “I’m trying something new, so it’s taking a bit longer than I’d like.”

“Something new?” Luka parrots, clasping her hands together. “Shouldn’t that be fun, then?”

Rui looks up, eyeing her with suspicion. “What do you mean?”

“You seem like the type that enjoys a challenge,” she starts to explain, a small smirk forming. “Is there something in particular that’s bothering you?”

The way she looks at him, a strange glisten in her eyes as she nestles her chin into the palm of one hand, tapping the nails of her other hand against the desk… Rui can tell she’s hinting at something.

“...It’s just not clicking,” is his only response. “I can’t figure it out.”

Luka’s eyes tilt down a bit, her expression softening as a small hum escapes her lips.

In the silence that settles between them, the soft tapping of footsteps resounds from the hallway like an alarm. Both of them look up to the door, only to catch the tail of a blur of brown and red.

“Oh, Meiko–!” Rui calls out, but it’s too late. He groans, leaning back against his seat. “Why is she so avoidant? I just wanted to ask if she has any input…”

Shifting her hand to cover her mouth, Luka fails to stifle the laugh that bubbles up in her. “Oh, Rui…” She sighs and shakes her head, but there’s a certain fondness in her gaze. It makes him look away. His eyes land behind the Vocaloid, where the band’s made a makeshift storage area for their instruments in the back of the classroom. However, a certain empty spot catches his attention.

“Hey, Luka,” he starts, pointing behind her. She whips around, following his finger. “Where’s An’s guitar?”

“Oh, that? She mentioned wanting to find someone to fix it, so I guess she took it back to your world.”

“Ah, right,” Rui nods as he recalls the grossly discordant sounds the instrument made the other day.

The two settle in a comfortable silence, the only sound being that of Luka’s soft humming and Rui’s pen tapping against his desk. For some reason, he finds his gaze drifting back towards the doodles on the chalkboard.

Rui rubs the corners of his eyes, wiping away the tears that formed after he yawned. Somehow, spending the night in the SEKAI made him feel more tired than usual, despite his regular sleep schedule already being in shambles. Standing on the school rooftop, the sharp sting of the cool wind that hits his face does nothing to help him feel more awake.

Still, it was worth it. He finally has a product to show for all his troubles.

A pair of glittering, yellow eyes stare up at him, large enough that he can see his reflection in them. Rui bends down, and pokes the robot’s pudgy torso. It recedes under his touch, but he doesn’t feel the wires and motors laying underneath. Its fur coat is soft to the touch. Shaped like a bunny, the robot could be easily mistaken as a jumbo-sized crane game prize plush. Stepping back, a proud grin crosses his face as he admires his work. He doesn’t even hear the door behind him open.

“Hey, Rui,” a familiar voice mutters from behind him, snapping him out of his moment of superbia. With a warm smile, he turns around to greet the girl.

“Hello, Nene. Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah, since I’ve been busy…” She trails off, leaning to the side as she realizes the third party standing behind him. “I was going to apologize for not eating lunch with you lately, but I see you’ve already replaced me.”

“Ah, not at all!” Rui assures her, stepping back to pat the head of the bunny robot. “Ganymede is a fresh face to this world!”

“Why does it look like that?” Nene stares down at it blankly, clearly used to having weird inventions pop up out of nowhere at this point.

“Like what?”

“An oversized stuffed animal,” she explains, pointing at it for emphasis. The autonomous rabbit peers up at her, blinking its wide eyes. “Oh, crap! It moves!” She exclaims, recoiling her hand back.

“I was trying out something new,” Rui answers, patting in between the bunny’s ears. “I don’t want my talents to plateau, after all.”

“I… guess that makes sense,” Nene exhales, but still looks down at the new robot with a weary expression. “Anyway, why are you still up here? Don’t you have a band you can eat lunch with?”

Deflecting, Rui counters, “Why did you come up here? Haven’t you been eating with your friend from Nightcord?”

“That’s not–!” Nene starts, but cuts herself off from arguing back. “I’ve just been worried about something lately. I’m not putting you off, Rui.”

“I know, Nene.” With a small smile, he looks back towards her. “You’re a worrier, which is why you’ve gone out of your way to come here and worry about me.”

“You can be so…” She trails off, crossing her arms. “Just answer my question! Where are your bandmates?”

“Only one of them is a student here,” Rui finally explains, murmuring low, “I don’t want to bother her. I’m sure she has other people to eat with.”

“You’re bandmates ,” Nene emphasizes, squinting at him with confusion. “How could you bother her if you’re friends?”

“Well, about that…”

“God, Rui!” Nene grouses, slapping a palm against her forehead. “You can’t be serious!”

“What?” He contends, playing dumb.

“Didn’t you say that those girls personally invited you to join their band?”

“Well–”

“And complimented your street shows while doing so?”

His mouth straightens into a thin line. Somehow, he looks unusually abashed.

Nene sighs in response, lowering her voice, “You’re getting in your head, Rui.”

He frowns, adjusting one of his sleeves to avoid looking at her face. He knows the exact expression she’s wearing right now, eyes brimming with dreadful concern. It’ll be too much to see once again. “I know, but…”

Echoes of familiarly distant voices fizzle up in his memories, doubtful and insulting and harsh and frightened and worst of all, true . He fears rejection, but he fears kindness all the same. Sometimes, he wishes he could just choose whether to push or pull. Surely, his life would be easier then.

Nene’s voice, sweet but sharp like the tip of a candy cane, suddenly cuts through his thoughts. “They’ve extended their hands out to you. You just need to reach back, Rui.”

With a painfully small chuckle, Rui tries to muster a weak smile. “Y’know, I feel like you’re not the first person to try and tell me this.”

“Then maybe you should listen to us,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “You’re somehow both the smartest and dumbest person I know.”

Rui takes no offense to her teasing. He would probably describe himself the very same. “I suppose that I can try…” he pauses for a moment, afraid to make the commitment. 

What if they…

“I can try to bridge the gap between us.”

Nene’s eyes light up, her posture straightening from the shock of Rui Kamishiro, of all people, finally conceding to reality. “Good,” she nods, “I’m glad.”

In the back of his head, Rui thinks that she’s been much happier lately. “I’m glad, too,” he notes, although his voice sounds a little distant.

There are times that Rui doesn’t like being tall. For example, when his pants don’t reach his ankles, when he has to duck to walk through the doors of the smaller local boutiques, or when the kids watching his shows start crying from the intimidation of his sheer height alone. 

However, he’s especially grateful for his height at this moment, slinking through the sea of students pouring through the halls. Without problem, he’s able to make his way to the first-years’ hall. His target stands out pretty easily, with her blue hair and mismatched uniform, but she ends up spotting him first.

“Rui?” She calls out, nearly tripping one of her classmates as she halts in surprise. After issuing a quick apology, she wades over to him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering if you’ve had your guitar fixed yet,” he explains, straight to the point.

“Oh, um…” An trails off, looking around the hallway, now starting to empty. “Well, no–”

“Then perhaps I could be of assistance,” he cuts in. Somehow, he feels antsy when she talks, like the more words that spill out of her mouth, the more his fears will be realized.

“Really?” Her eyes widen, but Rui can’t tell if she’s appreciative or shocked or just plain disgusted by him. 

“Really,” he nods, swallowing down his spiraling thoughts. 

“In that case, I’ll bring you to WEEKEND GARAGE!” An perks up, seeming a little brighter than before. A voice in the back of Rui’s head tells him it’s because the other students have finally cleared from the halls, so she isn’t embarrassed to be around him. He wants to strap that voice to a homemade rocket and hit the self-destruct button once it’s in the stratosphere.

“WEEKEND…?” He mumbles, but An catches his confusion.

“My dad’s cafe!” She supplies, starting to lead him out of the school. “That’s where it’s stored right now. I can make you a drink once we’re there, too!”

She flashes him a smile, small but as bright as any constellation in the sky. He looks away.

It doesn’t take as long as Rui was expecting to make it to the shop, but An easily weasels through the streets to land at their destination. A small bell chimes as they enter, and An shouts out a greeting to her dad as they step in.

There’s another Kamiyama student in the cafe already, standing in front of the counter. He looks back at them, looking a little shocked.

“Hey, Akito!” An waves at the other boy, sauntering up towards him. “You got here awfully fast…” She teases, poking his shoulder.

“Stop that,” he mutters, shrugging her hand off of him. Still, he gives her a curt nod of acknowledgement. “I wanted to get a drink before practice.”

“Eh? Your group practices this soon after school?” An leans against the counter, raising an eyebrow at him.

“One of us works at night, and another takes night classes,” he explains, matter-of-fact.

“I see…” An drawls, before turning to shoot Rui a grin. “I guess we’re lucky that our schedules are pretty open, huh?”

“I guess so,” Rui agrees, although less enthusiastic than the act he usually keeps around An. This environment is entirely new to him, and he’s approaching it like an exam.

The other student, Akito , Rui’s brain commits to memory, looks back at Rui. He looks the taller boy up and down, as if assessing him based on appearance alone. “You’re An’s partner?” He asks, sounding almost accusatory.

“Bandmate,” An corrects without hesitation.

“Right, yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I forgot you’re doing a band thing now.”

The man behind the counter, who Rui assumes is An’s dad, finally walks up to them with a cup in hand. Sliding it towards Akito, he says, “Here you go.”

“Thanks, Ken,” he replies, digging through his pocket. After a few moments, he places a wad of cash on the counter in place of his drink. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hey, wait!” An grabs onto the hood of his sweatshirt, pulling him back despite his indignant squawks of protest. “What’s your group practicing for? An event?”

“Why do you want to know?” Akito scowls at her, fixing his sweatshirt after An’s assault.

“I’m just curious, geez!” She bites back, crossing her arms.

“No fighting in my shop,” An’s dad warns from behind them, although he’s watching the two bicker with a fond smile. 

“Sorry…” Akito mumbles, posture deflating. Suddenly, Rui catches the younger boy glancing over at him, and watches as his eyes light up like a fire set ablaze. “We are training for an event,” he answers, smirking at the girl. “It’s at this one livehouse. My partner works there, actually. I can ask her about getting you a spot in it, if you want.”

“Really?” An’s eyes sparkle with excitement, but she quickly subdues herself. “I mean, I have to ask the others, but…”

“I’ll look into it for you,” he assures her, before turning to leave. On his way out, he shoots another judgmental glance at Rui. It’s nothing that he isn’t used to.

“So you’re the final band member, huh?” An’s dad chimes in, causing the two remaining patrons to turn towards him.

“Yes, sir,” Rui gives him a small bow. “Rui Kamishiro, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“So formal…” He chuckles, amused but timorous. “You can just call me Ken. I’ll feel old otherwise.

“Ah, I see,” Rui nods, starting to grasp the general atmosphere of the place. “It’s still a pleasure to meet you, Ken.”

“You too,” he replies with a warm smile, before turning his attention towards his daughter. “Did you just bring him here to meet me, or what?”

“He wanted to take a look at my guitar!” An responds, her voice lilting like she just remembered why they were there as well. “I’ll go get it, actually! You can have a seat, Rui.” She gestures towards the counter, before running off into the back.

Awkwardly, Rui takes her offer, sliding onto one of the counter seats. Ken turns back around to start cleaning the work area, but strikes up a conversation nonetheless. “You’re gonna fix her guitar? It’s a bit of an old piece of junk, so good luck,” he laughs, heartily.

“Is it? Would it be better to just build a new one from scratch, then?” Rui ponders aloud, staring up towards the ceiling.

“Would it… what?” Ken turns back, shooting an inquisitive look at him. However, the boy’s not looking at him, so he goes back to his work. “I asked her if she wanted me to buy her a new one, but she refused. I think she feels a bit sentimental about it, because it’s an old birthday gift.”

“Ah…”

“Yeah, but don’t tell her I said that,” he jokes, “I’ll be found dead by night.”

“What are you talking about?” An suddenly interjects, rounding the corner with her guitar in hand. 

“Nothing of importance,” Rui answers, sliding down from his seat. “Why don’t we head to that place? They probably have the supplies I’ll need.”

“ That place?” An questions, but her mind quickly catches up. With an exaggerated gasp, she nods frantically, “Right, right! That place! Yep, that sounds good!” She ignores the way her dad furrows her brow from the corner of her eye.

“Do neither of you want anything before you go?” Ken offers, still looking between them with suspicious glances.

Rui shakes his head. “I’m okay if you are, An.”

With that, An waves at her dad as she starts to usher her bandmate out of the shop. “I’ll be back later!”

“See ya!” He shouts back, watching them disappear from sight.

It doesn’t take long for them to settle into the main classroom of the SEKAI. With Miku’s help, Rui gets his hands on a package of spare strings. An and him push together a handful of desks to make a table, and quickly gets to work on repairing her guitar. The two sit in silence, with An watching him carefully handle her instrument with a certain intensity that just makes Rui more cautious.

“You… know what you’re doing, right?” An finally cuts through the silence, sounding hesitant.

“I do,” he assures her, although he realizes he’s not the prime repairman for this. “You had a few frayed strings. I’ve seen this before in one of my show robots.”

“Oh, okay…” She mumbles, still watching his hands closely.

Seeing her nervousness, Rui can’t help but ask, “Why are you so trusting of me?”

“Huh?” An looks up at him, looking almost offended by his question. “We’re bandmates! Why wouldn’t I trust you?”

“...I suppose we are,” is Rui’s only response. Although it’s hesitant, there’s no heaviness or weariness behind it. It’s spoken like a revelation, a truth unveiled.

“Speaking of bandmates,” An pauses to slide her phone out of her jacket pocket, “I’m gonna ask the others to come here so I can ask about that event Akito mentioned!”

Rui hums his concurrence. Several minutes later, the two other girls amble into the classroom.

“You wanted to talk?” Honami speaks up first, sliding into a seat next to An. Silently, Kanade joins them. 

“Yeah, so…” An starts, pausing to think of the best way to phrase her proposal. “I know our first show was a bit of a disaster, but a friend of mine offered to get us into an upcoming event. I thought it would be a good opportunity for us.”

“Event?” Kanade chimes in, tilting her head towards An.

“Oh, events are like shows!” An explains, gesturing wildly. “There are different types of events, but we can get into that another time. Events aren’t really big formal things, so I think one will be a good place for us to start performing at!”

“That sounds nice,” Honami agrees. “It should be okay if we practice, right?”

“Right!” An agrees, voice high with enthusiasm. “Are we all in?”

“Um…” Kanade glances between the two other girls, before giving in to their excited smiles with one of her own. “Okay.”

“Rui?”

“Huh?” He looks up towards the voice calling his name, and sees An’s eyes, fiery with passion, beaming right at him.

“Are you in?” She asks again.

“Am I…?” He trails off, catching a pair of brown eyes staring at him from behind the ajar door. The eyes widen, then disappear in an instant. A soft chuckle rises to his throat, and he looks back to his expectant friends. “I am.”

Chapter Text

“So, that means that you won’t be available for rehearsal during this week…?” Ichika murmurs, voice rising in a gentle, curious lilt.

“Precisely!” Tsukasa gives a firm nod, placing his hands on his hips. “I once again apologize for the short notice of my leave, but I cannot simply shirk my duties!”

“Couldn’t you have just said that you were already busy?” Mizuki interjects with a small smirk, which Tsukasa meets with a look of exaggerated offense.

However, before he can reprimand his junior with a tangential lecture on the importance of responsibility, the troupe is interrupted by the sudden entrance of two of the SEKAI’s inhabitants.

“WHA–?!” Miku squeals, barreling towards the group that’s gathered on the front benches under the circustop. She tumbles over one of the seats, using Tsukasa as a landing pad, earning a loud groan from the boy. Behind her, Kaito saunters in, his face expressing a silent apology on Miku’s behalf.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop using me as a cushion?!” He heaves as the Vocaloid wails into his ear.

“Why are you skipping rehearsal?!” She warbles, squishing his head between her hands. “Are you abandoning the troupe–? But you’re their leader! Is the world ending?! ”

“What? No!” He pulls away from her grasp, holding a hand up to defend against any other squishes or hugs. “I’m just helping out my school’s Festival Planning Committee for a few days!”

“Oh…” Miku visibly melts, the red ears atop her head turning downwards. However, her relaxation is a fleeting moment, quickly replaced by her ever-eager excitability. “You’re planning a festival? Will there be lots of BOOM–POW sparklies?!”

“Lots of…?” Tsukasa repeats in a mumble, face scrunching with confusion.

“Oh, like fireworks?” Shizuku perks up, looking up from the script on her lap. “Since it’s a school festival, I don’t think there will be any, unfortunately…” She simmers in lament for a second, before adding, “Unless Kamiyama High holds their festivals differently than Miyamasuzaka, that is.”

Tsukasa shakes his head, answering, “No, no fireworks.”

“Aw…” Miku deflates again, flopping onto the bench across from him. “But you’re on the committee, right? Can’t you make there be lots of BOOM-POWS ?”

“Well, not really…” He trails off, feeling a little awkward under the Vocaloid’s intensely optimistic gaze. “I’m not the only one planning the festival, even if I did end up taking the head position. All of the class representatives were asked to help due to a lack of volunteers.”

“I doubt anyone at Tsukasa’s school would want to deal with the logistics of planning a public firework display, anyway,” Kaito adds on, placing a hand on Miku’s hunched shoulders in an act of sympathy.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine any of our teachers agreeing to it either,” Mizuki agrees off-handedly, occupied with a garment they’re stitching.

“Still, is it okay for Tsukasa to take a week off?” Ichika asks, face turning serious. “The Otoris are expecting us to have a show ready soon, aren’t they?”

“Chill, it's fine~” Mizuki drawls, crossing their legs. “I can take the week to finish the costumes, and someone here can just fill in Tsukasa’s part if you guys wanna keep practicing.”

“Wait, you’re not helping your class plan their booth?” Tsukasa gasps, standing up from the bench. The script that was sat on his lap clatters to the ground.

“Ehe, well…” Mizuki trails off, an awkward grin plastering onto their face. “To be honest, I didn’t even know we were having a festival until you said so today…”

“Are you serious?!” He gapes.

“That’s right, you said that you don’t really attend class very often,” Shizuku notes, reminding herself out loud.

“Hey, I’ve been going more often recently!” They defend.

“Well, if you’re not helping your own class out,” Tsukasa starts, replacing his astonishment with a smug grin, “I’ll have to appoint you as my Second-in-Command of the Kamiyama High Cultural Festival Planning Committee!” In a Tenma-typical display of grandiose superbia, he juts a hand out towards Mizuki, striking a heroically gracious pose. 

“Ah, that’s not–”

“How wonderful!” Shizuku hums, clasping her hands together in delight. “Your school is surely in good hands with you two planning its festival!”

“Is it…?” Ichika murmurs at the same time Mizuki corrects their denial in light of the idol’s approval.

“I’ll do it!” They shoot up to their feet, hoisting their fists up in determination.

Crap, crap, crap… 

Mizuki stumbles down the sidewalk, that one word blinking in their head like a broken stoplight. No amount of full-coverage foundation can conceal the staggering of their steps, the way they sway with sleepiness. It’s for that exact reason that they’re stopped by an awkwardly concerned sounding voice the moment they step through the school gate.

“Um, Mizuki…?”

“An!” They gasp out, immediately throwing their hands onto the smaller girl’s shoulders. “Curse idols and their shiny little hope-spreading auras…”

“W– What?” An stammers, being shaken by their classmate. “Are you okay?”

“It’s too early…” Mizuki groans, finally pulling away from her.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m asking if you’re okay,” An quips, shoving her hands in her blazer pockets. “Why are you here?”

“Tsukasa made me his Second-in-Command of the Kamiyama High Cultural Festival Planning Committee,” Mizuki mewls, making a dramatically pained face.

“Um… What?”

“Y’know, Tsukasa…”

“Uh…”

“Tenma?”

“...”

“Blonde second-year with the really loud voice? Theater kid?”

“Oh, that guy!” An nods, “He roped you into working at PXL too, right?”

“Yeah, him!” Mizuki affirms, before collapsing into more tired complaints. “Now he’s making me do more work! At school!”

“Woe is you…” An fails to hide her smirk, before giving Mizuki a pat on the shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll escort you to class so you don’t fall asleep on your way there.”

“You’re the best person I know, An…” They tease in a sleepy mumble, leaning into the girl as she pulls them along.

The next time Mizuki opens their eyes, there’s a bleary glow of amber hovering above them. With a small groan, they blink the haziness of sleep away, conscious enough not to rub their eyes and smear their makeup. 

Upon their vision clearing, Mizuki recoils with a sharp gasp, finding two pairs of eyes staring down at them. “Holy crap–!”

“Mizuki! You’re finally awake!” Tsukasa beams, a pleased smile crossing his face.

“Wha–? What time is it…?” They mumble, reaching up to make sure their bow is still fastened to their ponytail.

“Lunch. You slept through the entire morning,” An voices, giving them a pointed look. Mizuki just chuckles bashfully, heat rising to their cheeks.

“Ah, is that so? I suppose I was more tired than I thought.”

“Mizuki…” Tsukasa starts, his expression sombering, “You should really take better care of yourself, you know. As both your senior and troupe leader, I can’t have you leading an unhealthy lifestyle!”

“Chill, chill! It was just a small nap, it’s fine!” They quickly shrug his concerns off, and move to change the subject. “Did you wake me up for something, or what?”

Immediately, Tsukasa straightens up again, a gleam hitting his eyes. “Ah, yes!” He nods fervently, smacking a fist into his palm. “It’s time for the Festival Planning Committee meeting! Come with me!”

As he places a hand onto their shoulder to usher them out of the classroom, Tsukasa suddenly turns his attention towards the other first-year.

“Say, you aren’t doing anything right now, right?” He asks, a smile creeping back onto his face.

Hesitantly, An responds, “Besides eating my lunch, no… Why?”

“Hahaha, excellent!” He crows, grabbing her arm as well. “The committee needs some more volunteers! Welcome to the team!”

“Wait, I didn’t–!”

“Let us go!” Ignoring the complaints of his juniors, Tsukasa whisks them down the hall and pulls them into another classroom.

Upon entering, several heads turn to look over at the newcomers. Tsukasa stands in the middle of the two first-years, hoisting their hands into the air with his own. An’s face scrunches up with embarrassment, while Mizuki stares tiredly back at the committee members.

“I have returned with not one, but two new members!” Tsukasa boasts, punctuating his brag with another hearty laugh.

“Hey, I didn’t–” An starts, but another girl speaks up before she can sound her protest.

“That’s great, Tsukasa,” she breathes out, sounding gratefully relieved. With frizzy hair and a slightly unkempt uniform, the girl leans onto a desk that’s full of scattered papers. “You can all grab a seat. We’re just waiting on one last person.”

“Oh? Should I go retrieve them too?” Tsukasa asks while ushering his two victims over to a small set of desks that have been arranged into a table. Another boy, whose head stayed duck down into his phone during the trio’s grand entrance, is the only person sat at it. Exchanging weary glances, An and Mizuki take the seats across from him.

“No, I already sent someone out for him,” the girl replies, nervously biting at her fingernails. “They should be back soon, hopefully…”

“I’m sure they will be!” Tsukasa beams at her. She just sighs in response, so he takes that as a sign to take his seat next to the boy. He still doesn’t look up from his phone despite the movement around him, causing Tsukasa’s bright expression to twist into one of concern. Cautiously, he raises a hand onto the boy’s shoulder. “Toya, are you alright?”

“Oh!” The boy gasps, eyes widening in surprise as he looks around the table. Immediately, he takes out his earbuds and pockets his phone. “Sorry, I got a little absorbed in the video I was watching,” he utters, voice wavering slightly. 

“Haha! That’s perfectly fine, Toya!” Tsukasa chuckles, immediately bouncing back to his cheerful self. “Why don’t you all introduce yourselves to each other?”

“You already said his name,” Mizuki points out, smirking. “Anyway, I’m Mizuki Akiyama, and this is my beloved classmate, An Shiraishi!” They lean over, poking a finger into An’s cheek. In return, she rolls her eyes with a sigh.

“It’s nice to meet you, Toya. Even if Tsukasa just dragged us into this…”

“Oh, you guys too?” He gives them a small smile, apologetic on the older boy’s behalf.

Their conversation is interrupted by the appearance of the two missing committee members. An exasperated looking boy, clutching his tie and panting heavily, stumbles into the room. Awkwardly trailing behind him is another boy, shorter than the other but with equally disheveled orange hair. The moment An sets her eyes on him, she shrieks with surprised glee, slapping one hand over her mouth and the other onto Mizuki’s knee. They shoot her a confused glance, eyebrow raised, but she just smirks back with mischief shining in her eyes.

The girl from earlier grouses, “Um, you’re back, but that’s not…”

“Apologies for the confusion,” the orange-haired boy speaks up, giving her a small, courteous bow. “I’m Akito Shinonome from Class 1-C. Our representative is out sick for now, so I’ll be in your care for now.”

“Ah, I see!” She perks back up, clasping her hands together. “In that case, welcome to the committee! You can sit down wherever, and we’ll begin the meeting once I finish up here.” She gestures to some papers strung about on a desk, but Akito has no idea what any of them are for.

An shoots her hand up, waving him over with a devilish grin on her face. “Yo!” She calls out to him.

Immediately, his posture deflates, eyes deadening as his expression goes dull. He mumbles something under his breath, which none of them can hear from their makeshift table.

“Do you know him, An?” Tsukasa asks, voice rasping as he attempts to whisper.

She nods back, leaning forward in her seat. “We went to middle school together. He’s also a regular at my dad’s cafe.”

“Oh, how nice!” He beams back, then starts waving the boy over himself. “Hey, An’s friend! Join us!”

“I–” He starts, but bites his tongue when some of the other committee members look over at them. Begrudgingly, he trudges over to the group, grabbing a chair and dropping it down on the one side nobody’s sat on. “I’m not really her friend,” he mumbles out, trying to keep his voice low.

“But she said–!”

“Ehe, well, it’s more like we’re acquaintances,” An amends, looking a little sheepish. “We didn’t talk much in middle school.”

“More like at all…” Akito grumbles, leaning his head against a propped-up fist.

Tsukasa quickly moves the conversation along, his voice hearty and boisterous. Him, An, and Akito fall into a back-and-forth of banter, while Toya’s head whips between each person as they speak up. To some extent, Mizuki tries to follow along with the exchange, but there’s something else preoccupying their thoughts at the moment. It’s like a censor in their brain has flicked on, sending prickling shivers through their veins. In a futile attempt to rid their body of its sudden agitation, they start tapping a foot against the tiled floor. 

Somehow, the unsteady beat only makes it worse. It’s a pervasive symptom, the uncomfortable rattling in their chest.

They’re afraid to look down and see if they’re actually shaking, or if it’s just all in their head. An hasn’t shot them any concerned glances, so they’ll just settle on wishful thinking for now.

There’s no explaining away the eyes washing over them, hitting cold on their skin like a sudden burst of rain. There’s no explaining away the hushed whispers of their name resting upon the stagnant air, of which their brain dials up to eleven. They learned to stop responding to their own name some time ago, when they kept responding to mumbles not meant for their ears.

“Hey,” a softer voice drips like honey into their consciousness, muffling the others with its thick warmth. When they look back up from their hands, An’s leaning towards them with a kind concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course!” Mizuki immediately exclaims, trying to will their body to sit up straighter.

Still, Tsukasa squints his eyes at them. “Hmm… You know, this is why you should really get at least eight hours of sleep every night!”

Before Mizuki can wave his worries aside, the girl with the papers suddenly gasps loud enough to echo through the classroom, catching the whole committee’s attention.

“Finally organized!” She squeals to herself, overjoyed. Hugging a stack of papers to her chest, she starts to walk around, carefully passing a sheet to each person. “Alright, we’ll begin by reviewing the schedule that we decided on at the last meeting. For all our newcomers, you can just follow along.” 

Once everyone has a paper, the girl returns to the front of the classroom, and begins leading the meeting. “Alright, so the festival will officially commence at 11:00 AM, but we’ll need to be here at least two hours early to prepare for the opening show.”

“9:00 AM…?” Mizuki mumbles to themself, earning a sympathetic pat on the back from An.

Ignoring them, Akito turns his attention towards the girl. “Show? Don’t you mean ceremony?”

She averts her gaze from him as her face flushes red. Her voice wavers as it comes out, “Well, ah, you see…”

“AHA! That was a suggestion from yours truly!” Tsukasa suddenly blurts out, a smile beaming outwards. 

Jaw stiffening as he grits his teeth through a closed smile, Akito tries not to crush the paper in his hands too hard. Taking a moment to exhale the brimming frustration teeming within him, he turns back to the girl. “So, are we all supposed to act in this show, or what?”

“No, not at all!” She frantically shakes her head, her glasses sliding off slightly. “We only agreed to this show idea on the terms that Tsukasa would deal with it entirely.”

“Ah, that makes more sense,” Mizuki snickers to themself, “I was wondering how he got everyone on board with that.”

“I will grace our beautiful school with the equally beautiful script that it deserves!” Tsukasa chatters, earning some confused stares from the other committee members.

“Yeah, I’m starting to understand why’d you just agree and leave him to his own devices,” Akito grumbles, his displeasure growing more obvious. “So we’re just playing into some ego thing for him?”

“The reasoning behind holding a show was actually quite solid,” Toya murmurs, but everyone falls silent to listen. “If you look at the end of the schedule, there’s also a closing show. When the opening show ends on a cliffhanger, people may feel more inclined to stay the whole day to catch the closing show. In turn, they’ll visit more of our stalls. So by holding these shows, we’re giving the festival goers an incentive to stay longer and participate more, essentially.”

The three newcomers blink at him for a moment.

“Well, when you put it like that…” Akito crosses his arms, sighing, “I guess it makes sense.”

“Right, um… Thank you for explaining to our new members, Toya!” The girl in charge squeaks out. “So, ah, moving on, then…”

“Hmm…”

Tsukasa runs one hand through his hair, the other holding a red pen in an iron-tight grip.

“Hngh…”

He hunches over his desk, grinding his teeth.

“Hrm…”

Lost in thought, the pen sinks deeper into the page, leaving a small red hole in its wake.

“Hey, Tsukasa!” An airy voice chimes out.

“AGH, WHO’S–?!” Tsukasa screams in horror, tipping his chair back and nearly falling to the floor. He quickly catches himself, panting as his eyes pan over to the light emitting from his phone. “LEN! YOU SCARED ME!”

“Ah! I’m sorry!” The younger Vocaloid wails out, clasping his hands together. “Miku told me that you were on break this week, so I wanted to see what you were up to!”

“It’s not a break!” Tsukasa fires back, pulling his chair back up to his desk and the script laid out on top of it. “I’m simply working on another project. A future star like me can’t afford to take silly little breaks for no reason!”

“Oh, I see!” Len gasps out in awe, literally looking over the script. “Is it for a festival? I think Miku mentioned something like that.”

“Yes, a school one!” He hums out in response, steadying himself back into position. “I finished the script last night, so I’m making some edits now. I need to finish this by tomorrow so that the committee can start their part of the work.”

“Eh? There’s a whole committee in this show?” Len gawks.

“It’s a one-man show, but the other members are preparing the stage and other arrangements,” Tsukasa corrects calmly, before a prideful grin creeps onto his face. “Perfect for a star like me!”

“Ehe, I bet!” The Vocaloid chuckles, before shooting an awkward glance towards the boy. “Ah, so you wrote a whole script in one night, and you’re also the only actor…?”

“Yes, exactly!” Tsukasa beams, laughter booming back. “I’m going to make this show the best it can possibly be!”

“Right…” Len murmurs, looking off to the side. “Can I ask why you wrote an entire new show for a school festival, instead of choosing one that you already like?”

“Well, that’s because–!” He pauses with a cough, pretending to clear his throat. “Ah, you see, this– this is a special occasion, so it needs to have a special show as well!”

“Tsukasa…” The Vocaloid trails off, looking up at him with visible pity, even on his staticy, small face. “It’s okay to be honest with all of us from the SEKAI. We’re made from your true feelings, after all! There’s no need to hide from us.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Tsukasa blurts out, far too fast.

With a sigh, Len continues, “You seem really stressed, and you’re only throwing more work onto yourself. Aren’t festivals supposed to be fun?”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing this!” He retorts, brows furrowing as his gaze narrows down onto the Vocaloid beaming up from his phone. “I need to make this as incredible an experience as possible, for Mizuki and Toya’s sake!”

“Hm? Why’s that?”

“They…” Tsukasa trails off, an unusual uncertainty appearing on his face. “They both worry me sometimes,” he finally admits, leaning down towards the Vocaloid like it’s a secret only meant for his ears.

Len tilts his head, which Tsukasa takes as a signal to explain further.

“I feel like they both keep this distance between themselves and others,” he continues, a somber glow setting onto his eyes. “I don’t know if it’s intentional, but I’d like to help them anyway. As their senior and friend, I feel an obligation to lend them my support.”

“Such a noble cause…!” Len practically shakes with admiration, barely able to contain himself. “I know you can do it, Tsukasa! If there’s any one with the star power to put on an amazing show that brings your friends together, it’s you!”

“Haha! Of course!” He beams back, smirking. His gaze falls back to the script before him, and he gives himself a reassuring nod. “I’ve got this.”

There’s a low buzz coming from someone’s microphone, creating an oddly comforting white noise under the ongoing conversation.

“That’s fine. I haven’t had time to finish the new lyrics,” Mafuyu responds to Toya’s apology-riddled notice of leave for the week. 

“I’ve never been to a school festival before,” Haruka admits, her voice soft. “I think it’ll be fun, though. Yuki, do you know when Miyajou’s will be?”

“No,” she answers, as blunt as usual. “It’s normally by Culture Day, though.”

“Oh, okay,” Haruka hums, her mic picking up the small sound of shifting.

“I haven’t had a real school festival experience either,” Toya speaks up, filling in the lull of the conversation.

“What do you mean? I thought you went to a normal school,” Nene perks up.

“I did, but, ah…” He trails off for a moment, thinking about how to word his situation. The group knew about his family troubles, but not the full extent. He liked it that way. It wasn’t their problem, anyway. “Piano practice got in the way of things like that, I suppose.”

“You were lucky,” Mafuyu interjects. “School festivals are only fun when you’re not the one dealing with the most responsibilities.”

Something about that statement makes Toya pause for a moment.

“Yeah, but they’re also not fun when your idiot classmates keep asking for your class to do a maid cafe,” Nene grumbles, mostly to herself.

“You don’t like school festivals, Yuki?” Toya asks, his voice lilting with interest.

“I’m not sure,” she responds. There’s a brief moment of silence before she takes a deep breath and says, “They’re okay. It can be a lot of work.”

“Someone with your reputation probably gets a lot of classmates relying on you, huh?” Haruka adds, less of a question and more of an observation. “I’m sure that’s annoying when you already have your own stuff going on.”

“Yeah.”

Silence fills the call again. Someone’s typing on their keyboard.

“Um…” Haruka starts before clearing her throat awkwardly. “So… Toya, what’s your committee been planning for the festival?”

“We mostly talked about scheduling and time slots during today’s meeting,” he explains. “A senior of mine is putting on a show for the opening and closing ceremonies, so the rest of us are helping set that up as well.”

“A show?”

“Like a theater performance.”

“Oh!” Haruka voices. “I wish I could visit, but I already made plans this weekend…”

“That’s fine,” Nene interjects, her voice sounding oddly strained. “I’d rather not have to introduce you to some of the weirder people at our school.”

“Huh? Who are you talking about?” Toya questions.

“No one,” she answers without skipping a beat.

The committee flips through their respective copies of the script, as graciously provided by the Great Future Star Tsukasa Tenma. Said star stands gloriously before them, eyes flitting about the room to gauge each unique reaction to his hard labor’s fruitful product. Surely, every raised eyebrow, clenched jaw, and confused squint is just the natural response to being given the opportunity to behold such an innovative piece of art.

With a croaky voice, the committee leader cuts through the stuffy air, “Ah, this is…”

“ Amazing… ” Toya breathes out, clutching his copy of the script. His eyes, dazzling with wonder, dance over the words of the pages before him.

“You like this?” Akito hisses out, face scrunching with genuine concern.