Chapter Text
“Hold, please!” The director’s loud voice interrupted the act, and everyone present froze in place, waiting for the upcoming comments. “Himekawa-san, try to add more subtle bitterness. In this scene, Martha finds out that Karen and Joe finally made a decision on their marriage. Karen wants Joe to go on vacation with them this time, there needs to be more than just disappointment."
The Children’s Hour. A tragic story about a single lie that ruined the lives of two women running an all-girls boarding school. Daito Art proposed the idea of reuniting two prominent stars on the same stage, aiming to reignite public interest in their rivalry, which had waned over time. However, for Ayumi, the company's promotional campaign was of little concern. Her sole focus was the opportunity to share the stage with Maya once more."
“One more time. Kitajima-san, start from the previous line.” The director waved a copy of the script, giving permission for the actresses to begin.
Ayumi took a deep breath, channeling her emotions, preparing to continue the rehearsal. From the very first rehearsal, she couldn’t brush away this slight discomfort that her character Martha was giving her. For the first time in Ayumi’s life, the character was getting under her skin so deeply, that the line between her own emotions and a play was getting thinner with each line.
According to the story, Martha and Karen were two inseparable friends, united by a shared ambition that they worked tirelessly to achieve. Together, they made their dream a reality. However, just when they were on the cusp of achieving their happily ever after, a young girl spread the lie about an intimate relationship between the two of them. In the midst of this chaos, Martha is forced to confront her own feelings for Karen, only to discover that they would not be reciprocated.
“We’ll get married as soon as the term ends. We’ll be out of debt by then, and school will be paying for itself. And Joe’s found a house. We’ll all go and look at it tomorrow,” Maya quoted Karen’s lines, smiling at Ayumi as if this was the happiest day of her life.
“So soon?” Ayumi let out a sigh, following her part of the script. She clenched the hem of her shirt between her fingers, yet she forced a weak smile on her lips. “Then we won’t go on vacation together?”
Ayumi couldn’t say where this feeling was coming from, but the annoying pressure in her chest continued to grow. It wasn’t her life. She never planned any vacations with Maya, and yet she mourned this failed opportunity.
The idea of actually being alike with Martha was ridiculous. Maya was her rival. Even though Ayumi supported Maya in the shadows and she kept a close eye on her progression, there was never a close bond between them.. Still, she always had that unspoken desire to share the stage with Maya again and again.
“Of course we will.” Maya chuckled, taking Ayumi’s hand in hers. Her eyes looked at Ayumi with joy, but there was also a tint of fear. “The three of us.”
Ayumi paused, unconsciously squeezing Maya’s warm hand. At this very moment, something changed in Maya’s gaze. There was anxiety now, as if Ayumi’s sudden gesture had left her confused. Ayumi blinked, regaining her composure, before the director interrupted them.
“I guess I had taken it for granted that it was going to be as it always was. Just you and me." Ayumi pulled her hand out of Maya’s hold and looked away. Her fingers flexed, trying to grasp the dissipating warmth of Maya’s hand.
A thought of actually sharing Maya with someone crawled in the back of her mind from the abyss she didn’t know existed there. A delusion, no less. There had to be a logical explanation, but it could wait. For now, she had to simply act on this feeling for the sake of the performance.
“Why haven’t you told me this before?” Ayumi’s voice was filled with bitter notes as she briefly closed her eyes, seemingly suppressing some inner turmoil.
The air in the room has changed, becoming viscous with an unexpected tension. Maya’s lines didn’t follow, and the pause lasted longer than it should have. Glancing at her rival from the corner of her eye, Ayumi bit the inner side of her cheek. Maya seemed lost and confused, looking for the right words to answer Martha's question, but she remained silent, as if the lines had slipped away from her memory.
“We only decided the other night…” Maya’s voice came weak, filled with guilt and regret.
A few more lines were supposed to follow, but Maya didn’t say a word. Ayumi would never believe that her rival would forget her lines or be distracted; whatever this was, she had to push Maya out of this stupor. Whether they were rehearsing or not, there was no room for vulnerability on stage; any personal issues had to be pushed aside.
“You really are going to leave?” Ayumi quickly picked up her next line, breaking the script flow in an effort to give Maya an opportunity to continue.
“I’m... I’m not going to leave,” Maya quoted her lines hesitantly, slowly losing her grasp of Karen and dropping her mask once again on stage. “We agreed…”
“Hold! What was that, Kitajima-san?” The director asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. He dropped the script on a nearby chair, and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Fine. Enough for today. We’ll try this scene again tomorrow.”
“As expected,” Ayumi murmured under her breath, brushing her hair back with her hand. With a brief glance, she noticed Maya’s awkward posture, as she headed towards the exit.
“What’s wrong with you, Maya?” Ayumi thought to herself, carefully watching her rival, trying to read her body language.
“Himekawa-san!” A cheerful voice came from behind Ayumi, forcing her to switch her attention. The young girl who was cast as one of the kids waved cheerfully as she walked towards Ayumi. “Your acting was so emotional! You hardly even need any rehearsals.”
“Thank you,” Ayumi answered with a polite nod. “However, no matter how good an actor is, they still need to practice with the troupe. We must gain trust and learn to understand each other; otherwise, the audience won’t see a play as a whole, complete piece.”
“I’ve never thought about it,” the girl answered with a quiet hum. “You work so hard.” She slightly turned her head and glanced in Maya’s direction. “It’s so sad that not everyone shares your approach.”
“Indeed,” Ayumi said, perfectly understanding what the young actress was trying to imply. “Rather than focusing on improving one’s own performance, some individuals take pleasure in gloating over the mistakes of others. It's a pity.”
“I didn’t mean…!” The girl appeared visibly distressed, her hands trembling as she attempted to disavow her distasteful remark.
With a barely noticeable, satisfied smirk, Ayumi excused herself. There were more important things to do than deal with an arrogant amateur who craved her approval. The mystery behind Maya’s sudden lapse in performance had to be solved, but moreover, Maya was about to face some consequences for this mistake during rehearsal.
Ayumi quickly made her way out of the room, determined to catch up with Maya. A feeling of unease settled in her chest as she thought about how toxic life was in the acting world. Her family name was like a shield, and no one would insult her directly, but Maya was always an easy target for people to try and destroy. She hurried through the narrow hallway, finally catching sight of her rival at the end of the corridor.
The chase led Ayumi to the changing room, which was a sanctuary of hushed whispers and muffled rustlings of clothing. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and sweat, a mixture that often lingered in theater dressing rooms. The hum of the voices could be heard even from the hallway, and it became even louder when Maya walked in.
The murmurs and whispers died as soon as Ayumi stepped inside. There was no need to think hard to figure out what they were gossiping about, and the sudden silence only proved Ayumi’s assumptions. The rest of the troupe stiffened as she glared at everyone present; they all instantly turned back minding their own business. Her gaze lingered on Maya, who sat at the farthest bench, resting her joined hands on her knees and biting her lower lips.
“Maya,” Ayumi called out, walking closer to her rival, her voice cutting through the quiet noise of the room. A surprise flickered in Maya’s eyes as she looked up at Ayumi before quickly averting her gaze.
“Ayumi-san…” Maya answered; her voice was barely audible. She shifted on the bench, a nervous energy emanating from her as she avoided meeting Ayumi’s eyes. “I will work harder tomorrow.”
“What happened?” Ayumi questioned her; her voice was firm yet filled with genuine concern. She couldn’t fully show her worry as the eyes of all their fellow actors remaining in the room were on them, and did not want to give them more reasons to gossip.
“I’m not sure,” Maya murmured, clenching her fingers tighter. “I got distracted...”
“It doesn’t sound like you at all.” Ayumi frowned, trying to make as much sense of Maya’s words as she could. Barely anything could distract this young woman from acting, and even if her grasp of the role wasn’t perfect yet, it was hard to imagine her stumbling over a few lines. “Is something the matter?”
“Ah, don’t worry, Ayumi-san.” Maya finally raised her head, apologetically smiling at Ayumi, yet this smile never reached her eyes. “I just have too many thoughts about this role. That’s all. What kind of person is Karen?”
Ayumi studied Maya's face, searching for any sign of what was truly troubling her. Maya's eyes held a flicker of something deeper, a shadow that danced just out of reach. There was something Maya couldn’t discuss with the witnesses around her or didn’t want to discuss with her personally, but Ayumi wished to test the limits of her luck.
“There are not too many interpretations of this play.” As the rest of the troupe began to filter out of the changing room, leaving Ayumi and Maya alone, Ayumi took a seat next to her troubled rival. “Karen is a nice person who loves her fiancé and her friend almost equally, but due to many reasons, she can’t even see Martha’s struggling.”
“Can’t she?” Maya sighed, looking at Ayumi with a shade of sorrow in her eyes. “How can someone be so oblivious? Maybe she sees it, but prefers to ignore it or lies to herself that what they have with Martha is simply a friendship. She can be a cruel person…”
“There are no limits to people’s blindness when it comes to feelings.” Ayumi smiled, closing her eyes for a moment, and then reached out, laying her hand atop Maya’s. “I’m certain that she isn’t a bad person; as for the rest, we will find out when you reveal your Karen to the world.”
“A-Ayumi-san?” Maya blurted out in surprise, as a pinkish tint crawled up on her cheeks. She parted her lips as if she wanted to say something else, but no words came out.
Ayumi’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of such a reaction. She couldn’t recall seeing Maya so flustered before. Her rival’s blushing stirred an unexpected desire inside Ayumi. Her eyes traced a subtle flush, meeting the curve of Maya's lips. For a split second, her own lips tingled with an odd urge—a phantom sensation that sent a jolt of panic through her body.
It wasn't the first time that Ayumi caught herself admiring different sides of Maya, her talent the most, but this was the first time her thoughts strayed towards the territory she avoided venturing into. The jigsaw puzzle of her reсent emotions finally clicked into place, causing a rush of blood to her cheeks. As the warmth spread through her face, Ayumi squeezed Maya's hand reassuringly, feeling a slight tremor running through her fingers.
The sound of approaching steps behind the door brought Ayumi back from her bewilderment. After a short, shy knock, the door opened with a quiet creak, and a young man shoved his head into an opening.
“Is Maya still here?” The man asked hesitantly, opening the door further.
“Sakurakoji-kun?!” Maya nervously jumped up, slipping her hand away from Ayumi’s.
“I’ve been waiting for you, but you never came out.” The man explained, slightly flinching, meeting Ayumi’s gaze. “I thought maybe you'd want to walk to the station together.”
“I…” Maya fell silent. Maya hesitated, her gaze flickering between Ayumi and Sakurakoji, as if she was a puppy that was meant to choose its favorite human.
“Go ahead.” Ayumi smiled, feeling a certain irony in this situation. Casted as Joe, Sakurakoji Yu had to be present at the rehearsals, but right now, of all the people she expected to see him the least, She could come up with an excuse to keep Maya here, but seeing Maya’s reaction, it obviously wasn’t the best idea.
“I’m sorry, Ayumi-san.” With a short bow, Maya hurried to gather her belongings, seeming to be trying to leave faster. She offered a small apologetic smile to Ayumi before stepping past Sakurakoji and out of the changing room.
Alone in the now-empty room, Ayumi let out a heavy sigh as she leaned back against the bench. The momentary spark of newly discovered feeling still lingered within her, and as she closed her eyes, she could almost feel Maya's warm hand in hers again. She knew that it was foolish to indulge herself for even a second, yet her mind couldn’t let go of a memory of Maya's blushing face.
“Every time that man comes into the house, you are in bad humor,” Ayumi sarcastically quoted the line from the script that called Martha out on her jealousy. “Is it even worth trying to deny the truth?”