Chapter Text
A sudden rush of air pushed Ena out of her afternoon stupor and back to reality.
“Things are really looking bad for this country if the teacher is sleeping in class instead of the students…”
Ena looked up. One of her male students had waved a page of his sketchbook in her face, and was now crossing his arms, looking down at her.
“He’s right, Shinonome-sensei,” agreed another girl.
“Say what you like,” said Ena, rubbing her drooping eyelids. “‘Free time’ applies to teachers too, you know.”
A smattering of chuckles filled the classroom.
“Whatever you say, sensei,” said the boy who’d waved his sketchbook.
“Shinonome-sensei’s always trying to sneak in a nap on Fridays,” a student muttered. (These students had names, of course, but Ena was a bit too sleepy to remember them at the moment.)
“Shouldn’t you guys be grateful I’m letting you do what you like?” Ena replied, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn. “It’s not like you get that from your other teachers.”
She was going through the motions of defending her little drowsy episode, but it was an exchange she and her students were very much used to, so nobody took it too seriously. Of course, they didn’t know why she tended to accumulate a sleep deficit as the week went on, and she couldn’t exactly tell them—working on art commissions outside of school, even dabbling in streaming, weren’t exactly the kind of activites the school would sanction.
Ena sighed. “Well, if you guys want something to do so badly, how about we watch some educational programming?”
The boy—Yaguchi-kun, that is—raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that what teachers do when they don’t feel like teaching?”
“It’s the TV that’s doing the teaching, so it’s fine.”
“Well, whatever.” Yaguchi-kun shrugged, and returned to his seat.
Ena rummaged through her desk for the remote. “Anyone who’d prefer to keep sketching your still-lifes, feel free to continue.”
This period happened to be the second-years’ mandatory art class, so most of her students didn’t care much about the curriculum anyway, and just saw it as a free period in all but name. The after-school art club was where she could give the students who were actually passionate about the subject the attention they deserved…
That was her selfish justification for slacking off, anyway.
Yaguchi-kun was probably right—teachers shouldn’t be slacking off to begin with, even under those circumstances—but that was something she’d worry about later.
In any case, after many long years of effort, “Enanan” had finally achieved a half-respectable level of notoriety on the internet, so her commissions actually brought in some decent money. One of these days, she’d finally quit teaching and focus on her own art full-time… or so she’d been telling herself for most of the last decade. To be past age 30 and still worrying about that kind of thing… she did think it was a little pathetic, but at least she hadn’t given up on her dreams completely—right?
Brushing those thoughts out of her mind, Ena grabbed the remote from her desk and flipped on the TV. Around this time of day, they’d air some boring human-interest stories to distract homemakers and retirees—perfect for surreptitiously continuing her nap.
Ena watched from the corner of her eye as the chiron lazily scrolled across the bottom of the screen.
“Exclusive interviews! LGBTs in art and culture—their struggles and successes.”
It was a slightly unusual topic for this channel, but Ena figured it was alright to play. It was art-related, for one, and it wasn’t like much of the class would be paying attention anyway—herself included.
“All right, free time—I mean, educational programming time—starts now,” announced Ena in a monotonous voice.
The only responses from her students were audible sighs from Yaguchi-kun and a few of the more artistically-inclined girls.
If you’ve got a complaint, talk to the PTA or something. I don’t care.
Ena once again laid her head on the desk, preparing to let the TV noise go in one ear and out the other.
A few minutes later, though, Ena was jolted out of her half-sleep—this time, not by a student telling her off, but by something her sluggish mind had heard on the TV.
“…That was Sakaguchi-san, the retired music producer. Thank you very much for speaking to us, Sakaguchi-san. Next on the program is—the internationally recognized fashion designer and model, whom less fashion-inclined viewers may recognize from appearances on a selection of variety shows: Akiyama Mizuki-san! Coming up after a short break!”
Wha—haaaah!?
She bolted upright. “M-Mizuki!?”
“Sensei?” came the confused voices of several students.
Ena covered her mouth; apparently she’d said that out loud. Embarassing…
She looked away from the TV—her students were all giving her quizzical looks.
“Ah, um, I…” she said sheepishly, voice wavering. “I’m just… familiar with Mi—Akiyama-san’s work, you know… As an artist…”
“But isn’t Akiyama Mizuki a fashion designer?” asked Yaguchi-kun.
“W-Well,” said Ena, “art isn’t just paintings and sculptures. F-For a designer, cloth is their canvass… you know?”
“Bit suspicious, if you ask me…”
“Oh, can it, will you…” Ena snapped—though the redness slowly tinging her face did slightly undermine her authority.
“Definitely a bit suspicious,” agreed another girl. “Could it be that Shinonome-sensei has a sordid past with Akiyama Mizuki?!”
“Of course not!” Ena shot back. “Just—just be quiet and watch the program, okay?”
Maybe it was bad form for the teacher to fall asleep instead of the students, but it was definitely just as bad for the students to tease their teacher, right!?
“Okay, okay~,” repeated a few of the students.
Finally realizing how much blood had rushed to her face, Ena turned away from the class and stared intently at the TV. The damage had been done, but she didn’t want to give them any more ammunition. Even for someone nearly twice their age, high schoolers could be pretty scary.
Mizuki, huh…
So “Amia” had finally reached the point of being interviewed on television… Ena had only vaguely kept up with Mizuki’s career after falling out of contact when they were in college, so that came as a bit of a shock. Although, the announcer said Mizuki had already appeared on variety shows, so maybe she was even more famous than Ena thought.
Sigh. Ena would prefer to deny it, but her feelings on that were just a little bit mixed. After all, “Amia” and “K” had both gone on to achieve success in the creative industries, but Ena was just a high school teacher, and despite how seriously she took her own art, it was still technically a hobby. Frustrating… doubly so, considering it was those feelings of inferiority that had made Ena less and less proactive about keeping in touch with her old Nightcord friends.
Ena wasn’t sure quite how she stacked up against “Yuki” in the “achieving your dreams” department, but maybe that was for the best.
Fortunately, the TV program came back from commercial break just in time to stop Ena from spiraling into another whorl of self-doubt. Despite everything, that was something she definitely did not want her students to see.
“Continuing on, we’re now speaking to the one-of-a-kind Akiyama Mizuki-san, renowned designer, model, and variety show guest—”
“Hey, wait a second. Don’t make it sound like ‘variety show guest’ is just as important as the other ones .”
Ena’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected to hear Mizuki’s voice before the introduction finished, but there it was, blasting through her memories in all its sardonic glory. Mizuki’s voice was slightly distorted by the unexpected microphone pickup—it brought to mind how she’d sounded over the microphone in Nightcord.
Despite the distortion, Mizuki’s voice sounded both familiar and new. It hadn’t lost that playful huskiness, but Ena thought it seemed a bit deeper, more mature, and maybe even more… resonant. I wonder if she’s done voice training, she thought.
Listening to that voice for just a few seconds had drawn Ena into its clutches, and she found herself desperate to hear more.
“Ah, my apologies.” The interviewer chuckled self-effacingly. “We thought some of our audience might only recognize Akiyama-san from television, but we didn’t mean to make light of your work.”
“Oh, no worries. Being on TV is a pretty great way of advertising my clothes, anyway.”
So she hadn’t taken offense…?
Ena sighed internally, reflexively giving the TV a deadpan look. She suddenly felt like she’d been in the interviewer’s shoes many times before… Even after all these years, Mizuki was still Mizuki.
Mizuki was still Mizuki—that was how things had settled down between them, wasn’t it.
“Well, moving along,” said the interviewer after a few awkward seconds of silence. “Would you like to give a brief self-introduction to start things off?”
With that, the camera finally switched over from the interviewer to Mizuki—apparently they hadn’t planned for her to say anything until that point—and Ena’s breath once again caught in her chest.
It wasn’t like she’d expected Mizuki to still be wearing her hair in a single side-tail tied off with a ribbon after all this time, but she was definitely not prepared for—twintails!?
S-Surely there’s no demand for twintails on a 30-year-old, right!?
And yet she seemed to be pulling it off? How unfair can life get?
Ena started to get a little worked up—then, suddenly, Mizuki popped into her mind, telling her Whoa, whoa as if talking to a horse. Okay, calm down, Ena. Y-You’re not a horse.
Underneath those swaying, pink twintails, Mizuki was sporting a black blazer over a silky white blouse, with some scary-looking stiletto heels peeking out from under a long, black skirt replete with plenty of ruffles around the edges. An artsy-looking gold necklace in the shape of a flower perched on top of the faintest outline of her chest.
It was a look that miraculously combined “cute” and “professional”—and very distinctive, too. No wonder she’d been invited to appear on TV. All she needed were some big, impractical sunglasses, and she’d look right at home in Hollywood.
Mizuki must have designed the whole outfit from top to bottom. Impressive…, Ena thought, glancing down at what she was wearing: bog-standard officewear bought on supersale from a chain store.
Once again: sigh…
“Of course I’d like to give a self-introduction,” replied Mizuki, crossing her legs and leaning forward towards the camera. “Yaho~! My name is Akiyama Mizuki, affiliated with with Akiyama International, and I design clothes and model them. Nice to meet you!”
Ena found herself giving the TV yet another deadpan expression. What do you mean, “Yaho~”… Good grief. Was it possible age had only rendered Mizuki more annoying?
“Akiyama International, that’s your agency, right?” asked the interviewer.
“Indeed! It’s the agency I founded with my older sister, Akiyama Yuuki, a few years ago.”
“That’s very impressive, for both of the Akiyama si—siblings—to be so talented in this field.”
Mizuki raised her eyebrows for a moment—and Ena knew why. The interviewer was probably about to say “sisters,” but reflexively “corrected” himself.
Apparently even now, Mizuki hadn’t quite managed to escape that sort of thing—though Ena supposed Mizuki wouldn’t have gone on TV, much less programs like this, if she wasn’t prepared for it.
“Well, I would give my sister most of the credit,” said Mizuki, facial expression quickly relaxing. “She was successful way before I was, and she gave me a lot of support at the beginning. Both personally and professionally. Not to sound too corny, but I guess you could say she inspired me to find my passion.”
“That’s wonderful to hear.” The interviewer smiled. “You mentioned how she supported you personally—would you mind elaborating on that?”
“Certainly. That’s what this show is about, right? Not just a way to plug my new line of—ahem.” Mizuki interrupted herself by clearing her throat. “Never mind…”
“Well, you’re free to plug whatever you wish, but we’ll probably have to cut it in editing.”
“How merciless!”
…Nice one, Mr. Interviewer.
“You’re not the only one trying to turn a profit here, Akiyama-san.”
“Touche!” said Mizuki bemusedly. “Well, in that spirit, I suppose I should give an honest answer.”
“Please do.”
Ena was in full agreement with the interviewer there—she was very curious to hear more. Mizuki’s sister had been out of the country since before Mizuki had moved up to high school, and Mizuki had never really spoken about what happened between them back when she was in middle school.
Or much about her time in middle school at all, for that matter.
“I…” Mizuki began, then paused. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully.
After a moment of silence, Mizuki sat back in her chair, blinking slowly, then refocused on the camera in front of her.
“Since the day I was born, I’ve always been me, you see.”
“I see. Isn’t that true for everyone?”
“That’s… probably right,” agreed Mizuki. “But for some people, just being themselves—I know it sounds like a cliché, but bear with me—just being themselves is pretty damn hard. People like to put each other in convenient little boxes because it makes the world easier to understand—”
“Right, and we should probably stop doing that,” said the interviewer.
“Oh, everyone does it, even me!” retorted Mizuki. “I think it’s natural to think that way, as a human. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but when I was a teenager, I was as cute as any ‘normal’ girl could hope to be, you know? And even I kept getting shoved into a box that said ‘normal’ that was totally different from everything I—ah, sorry, I’m getting a little heated.” She took a deep breath, and gave the interviewer a self-effacing look.
“No problem at all. This is why we’re here, after all.”
“To make some good money off my suffering?”
“That’s a nasty way of putting it.”
Mizuki laughed. “Well, I do appreciate the honestly. Anyway… What I’m trying to say is—if you’re someone who doesn’t fit in the box, you need courage to be yourself. And for that you need some support. The first person to give me that kind of courage was my sister, Yuuki.”
“As expected of someone bearing that name.”
“Indeed!”
Mizuki grinned at the interviewer’s bad play on words.
If Ena had tried a joke like that, she’d never hear the end of it…
Not that she’d ever have the chance to make it. Surely Mizuki remembered her—Mizuki remembered her, right…?—but it wasn’t like she could boot up Nightcord and talk with her in the middle of the night anymore. Ena didn’t even have a way of contacting her outside of that long-defunct chatroom.
“But it wasn’t just my big sister,” Mizuki continued. “There were plenty of other people who supported me along the way to where I am now.”
Hearing that, Ena’s ears perked up like a cat’s.
“Oh? Do tell.”
“I might be a bit of an extreme case, actually. I needed support from more friends I could count on one hand just to make it through that circle of hell we call ‘high school.’”
The interviewer laughed politely. Ena’s ears drooped—apparently Mizuki wasn’t going to talk about her, after all.
Obviously…
“What a weak reaction!” accused Mizuki jokingly. “I thought it was a pretty good line.”
“A wonderful line, yes,” replied the interviewer—with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Hmph. Well, anyway. That’s all I wanted to sa—oh, wait, speaking of that. One more thing.”
Ena’s ears perked up again.
“Hm?” inquired the interviewer.
Without any warning, Mizuki leaned toward the camera, and made the kind of diabolically coquettish face that Ena hadn’t seen in over a decade. To make matters worse, she then pushed her hands together in the shape of a heart.
Ena felt her cheeks involuntarily flush a tinge of red.
Wait. What’s happening!?
After shooting a wink at the bemused interviewer, Mizuki looked directly into the camera.
“I just wanted to say that I miss you, ‘Enanan’~! Okay, we can keep going now. Anything else you want to know?”
…………Eh?
………………………………………Eh?
………………………………………………………………………………………………………Eh?
………………….Eh?
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Eh?
………………………………………………………………………………………………………Eh?
………………………………………Eh?
…………Eh?
………………………………………………………………………………Eh?
After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, it was Yaguchi-kun’s voice once again that finally broke through Ena’s stupefied trance. She came to her senses just enough to see him waving a hand in front of her face.
“Shinonome-sensei seems to have crashed. Anyone know how to reboot her?”