Chapter Text
Ena slouched over her desk in her dimly lit bedroom, her MySpace profile open on her computer. The glow of the monitor reflected off her face as she typed furiously, her fingers pounding the keyboard as if each keystroke could vent a fraction of her frustration. She hadn’t meant to write a full rant, but once she started, she couldn’t stop. Her thoughts spilled out in a messy, raw torrent that felt both cathartic and dangerous.
RANT ABOUT SCHOOL.
I dont know why I even bother anymore.
Every single day is exactly the same like
-wake up
-go to school
-listen to teachers drone on about things I’ll never use
-come home and pretend like any of it matters.
Its a joke isnt it? how is this supposed to prepare us for the real world? all it does is suck the life out of you.
And dont even get me started on the people
Half the school doesn’t even know my name. The other half only cares when they need something from me!!! help with a project, a pencil, answers to a stupid quiz. noone actually sees me. Not the real me.
Everyone’s so fake.
And art class? Don’t even get me started on that disaster. I bring in my real work, stuff that actually means something, and what does the teacher say?
“This is a bit too dark, Ena. Why don’t you try something more uplifting?”
Uplifting? yea, sure, let me just slap a smiley face on a canvas and call it a day. sorry if i express actual emotions. I'm just dreaming of bigger things.
Im sooo sick of this place. sick of pretending to care about people who don’t care about me. sick of being trapped here, knowing there’s so much more out there like more than this tiny, suffocating city with its tiny, suffocating minds.
Don’t talk to me unless you’re worth my time. I’m done wasting it on people who aren’t.
Ena hit “post” with a mix of defiance and dread. She immediately regretted it but also felt relieved. She leaned back in her chair and stared at the screen, her heart pounding as if she’d just shouted all those words in a crowded room. The “new blog post” notification on her profile glared back at her like a taunt.
She minimized the window and opened her AIM to distract herself. Mizuki was online, as usual, their username a string of random characters that somehow still managed to scream “Mizuki.” Ena debated starting a conversation but decided against it. The rant had drained her.
A few minutes later, her MySpace notifications pinged. Someone had commented on her post.
Amia: lol someone’s edgy today. u good? or nah?
Ena scowled at the screen. Typical Mizuki—always brushing everything off with a joke. She considered ignoring the comment but knew they’d just keep pestering her if she didn’t respond.
Enanan: Not in the mood, Mizuki. Go bother someone else.
Another notification popped up almost immediately.
K: I get it. sometimes it feels like theres no way out.
Ena stared at Kanade’s comment for a long time. Unlike Mizuki, Kanade always seemed to get it. But that didn’t make it any easier to respond. What could she even say? “Yeah, thanks for the pity”? She didn’t need that right now.
Her phone buzzed on the desk. A text from Mizuki.
Amia: lol ur post is getting popular. maybe u should rant more often
Enanan: you dont even care so just stop
Amia: geez. struck a nerve there, huh?
Ena groaned audibly, her head thudding against the back of her chair. Of course Mizuki was being Mizuki. She didn’t have the energy for their teasing right now. She grabbed her phone, her fingers moving a little more forcefully than necessary as she typed a response.
Enanan: ur too annoying
Amia: nah, just bored. u make it fun. 🖤
Enanan: not in the mood for fun. seriously, drop it.
Amia: k k. but like…maybe ur ranting is kinda cool. ppl are talking abt it. ur post got like 50 likes already.
Ena’s stomach sank. Fifty likes? That was practically viral for her tiny MySpace page. And if people were liking it, they were definitely reading it. Which meant her entire tirade—her raw, unfiltered frustration—was now the latest piece of drama.
Her computer pinged again. Another notification.
K: I read your post. are you okay?
Enanan: just frustrated. it’s nothing new.
K: If its nothing new, why now?
Enanan: idk. i just snapped, i guess.
Ena paused, her hands hesitating over the keyboard. Talking to Kanade always felt different. Kanade didn’t push, didn’t tease, didn’t make her feel like she had to explain every little thing.
K: sometimes snapping is good. Gets everything out.
Enanan: doesn’t really fix anything though.
K: maybe not. But it shows you’re alive.
Ena stared at the words for a long time, her chest tightening. Alive. Was that what this was? Proof that she was still fighting, still trying to carve out some space for herself in a world that felt like it was constantly closing in?
Her computer pinged again, snapping her out of her thoughts. Mizuki, of course.
Amia: oh btw kanade’s 100% gonna overthink ur post now. good luck w that.
Enanan: ur annoying.
Amia: and u love it. 🖤
Mafuyu sat on the edge of her bed, her phone in her hand, the faint glow of the screen illuminating her expressionless face. She had been scrolling aimlessly through MySpace when Ena's post appeared in her feed. She read it once, then again, her brow furrowing slightly.
RANT ABOUT SCHOOL.
Ena’s words spilled across the screen like a storm—angry, raw, and almost alive. Mafuyu could feel the frustration in every sentence, every keystroke, as if Ena had poured herself into the post without holding anything back.
"Don’t talk to me unless you’re worth my time."
Mafuyu’s thumb hovered over the "like" button, but she didn’t press it. She sat back, her gaze fixed on the post, her mind swirling.
Ena was upset. That much was clear. But as Mafuyu read through the post again, she couldn’t help but feel...envious. Ena had the freedom to rant like this, to express her anger and frustration without fear of consequences. She could say whatever she wanted, pour out her feelings into the void of the internet, and even if people judged her for it, she still had that outlet.
Mafuyu didn’t have that.
Her room was quiet, too quiet. The kind of silence that suffocated. Her mom was downstairs, probably preparing tomorrow’s schedule for her, a schedule Mafuyu had no choice but to follow. Every part of her life felt pre-planned, measured, and controlled.
Ena had interests. Art, as dark and intense as it was, was something Ena could claim as hers. Mafuyu had...what? Perfect grades? A spotless record? Things her mother wanted, not things she wanted for herself.
Mafuyu glanced at the corner of her screen. The time read 11:47 PM. She had about thirteen minutes before her mom would come upstairs to make sure she was asleep.
Her thumb moved to the comment section of Ena’s post. She stared at the empty box, the blinking cursor taunting her. What could she even say? “I’m sorry”? “I get it”? Did she?
Instead, she typed something simple.
Yuki: You’re lucky. You have things you care about.
She hesitated before hitting send. Her chest tightened as the notification popped up, confirming the comment. She stared at it for a moment, then locked her phone and set it down on her desk, as if that would erase the interaction.
Mafuyu leaned back, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t want to think about school, about her mother, or about how trapped she felt. But Ena’s post lingered in her mind like an echo, a reminder of everything Mafuyu didn’t have.
On Ena’s end, another notification popped up on her MySpace.
New Comment from Yuki: You’re lucky. You have things you care about.
Ena blinked at the screen, her lips twisting into a frown. Lucky? Was Mafuyu serious? Ena felt anything but lucky. Her life was a mess—a gray, monotonous loop of school, fake smiles, and trying to prove herself to people who didn’t care.
Her fingers moved to the keyboard almost instinctively.
Enanan: Lucky? Yeah, okay. If you call being stuck in this stupid town “lucky.”
She hit "send" without a second thought, leaning back in her chair with a frustrated sigh. But something about Mafuyu’s comment nagged at her. The words didn’t feel sarcastic or mocking—they felt...genuine.
Ena’s phone buzzed. A text from Mizuki.
Amia: oooo mafuyu commented on ur post. guess ur blog’s the new hot topic. 🕵️
Enanan: shut up.
Amia: nah this is fun. btw, u sure she’s okay? that comment was kinda...idk. sad?
Enanan: idk. she’s just weird sometimes.
Ena minimized the chat window and stared at Mafuyu’s comment again. For someone who rarely opened up, Mafuyu had let something slip. Something that felt bigger than a single comment.
Ena sighed, tapping her fingers against the desk. Maybe she should ask. Or maybe she should just leave it. She wasn’t sure.
The next morning at school, Ena leaned against the lockers, her eyes scanning the hallway for a familiar figure. Mafuyu walked past, her expression neutral as always, her steps quick and purposeful. Ena didn’t hesitate—she grabbed Mafuyu’s arm, pulling her toward the girls’ bathroom before the other girl could protest.
“Ena, what are you—” Mafuyu started, her voice sharp.
“Shhh,” Ena hissed, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no teachers were nearby. She pushed open the bathroom door and dragged Mafuyu inside.
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a harsh glow over the small, tiled space. Ena let go of Mafuyu’s arm and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the sink.
“What’s your problem?” Mafuyu snapped, yanking her arm back and glaring at Ena.
“My problem?” Ena shot back, her voice low but biting. “What’s your problem? What was that comment on my MySpace last night? ‘You’re lucky’? Seriously?”
Mafuyu’s jaw tightened, and she looked away, crossing her arms. “I don’t see why it matters. It was just a comment.”
“Yeah, and it was a weird one.” Ena stepped closer, her voice softening slightly. “You don’t usually say stuff like that. It sounded...I don’t know. Sad.”
“I’m not sad,” Mafuyu said flatly, her tone icy. “And I don’t need you dragging me into a bathroom to interrogate me.”
Ena rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mafuyu. You can drop the act with me. I’m not your mom, okay? I’m not gonna judge you or lecture you or whatever.”
Mafuyu flinched at the mention of her mom, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Ena.”
“How about the truth?” Ena’s voice was firm but not unkind. “You said I was lucky. What did you mean by that?”
Mafuyu hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint hum of the lights. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You have things you care about,” Mafuyu said. “Art. Your stupid rants. Even when you’re mad at the world, at least you’re feeling something. At least you’re doing something. I don’t... I don’t have that.”
Ena blinked, her arms slowly uncrossing. Mafuyu’s words caught her off guard—not because they were dramatic, but because of how quiet and matter-of-fact they sounded.
“Mafuyu...” Ena started, unsure of what to say.
“I don’t have the freedom to care about anything,” Mafuyu continued, her voice steady but hollow. “My mom decides everything for me. What I do. What I say. Who I am. There’s no point in wanting anything because it’s not up to me anyway.”
Ena stared at her, the weight of Mafuyu’s words sinking in. For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. But then she reached out, placing a hand on Mafuyu’s shoulder.
“That’s...not okay,” Ena said softly. “You shouldn’t have to live like that.”
Mafuyu pulled back slightly, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just how things are.”
“Like hell it doesn’t matter!” Ena said, her voice rising before she caught herself and lowered it again. “Look, I know I complain about everything, but at least I get to do that, right? You’re...you’re so quiet all the time. You never let anyone see what you’re really feeling. That’s not fair to you.”
Mafuyu looked at Ena, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Ena worried she’d pushed too far.
“You don’t get it,” Mafuyu said finally, her voice a little sharper. “You don’t know what it’s like to live with someone who controls every part of your life. You don’t know what it’s like to feel like a stranger in your own house.”
Ena frowned, her hand dropping to her side. “No, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with you feeling like that.”
Mafuyu shook her head again, letting out a bitter laugh. “It doesn’t matter what you’re okay with, Ena. This is my life.”
“Then change it,” Ena said bluntly.
Mafuyu blinked, surprised by Ena’s boldness.
“I’m serious,” Ena continued. “You’re not a robot, Mafuyu. You’re not just some perfect daughter or whatever your mom wants you to be. You’re a person. And you deserve to have your own life. To care about things. To feel things.”
Mafuyu didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the floor. Ena sighed, running a hand through her hair.
“Look, I’m not saying it’s easy,” Ena said. “But you don’t have to figure it all out alone. You’ve got me. And Mizuki. And Kanade. We’re here for you, okay?”
Mafuyu glanced up at Ena, her expression softening just a fraction.
“...Okay,” she said quietly.
Ena smiled, stepping back toward the door. “Good. Now, come on. We’ve already skipped half of first period. Let’s at least pretend we’re going to class.”
Mafuyu let out a small, almost imperceptible laugh, and followed Ena out of the bathroom. For the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe she wasn’t entirely alone.