Chapter Text
Nangong stands up.
"Done?"
Aria nods.
"Good. Rehearsal at—"
"Yeah."
She said yeah before Nangong finished. She doesn't want to hear the time. She knows the time. She knows everything about the schedule because she always knows the schedule because she pays attention because she — she knows the time.
Sunna is standing and she's holding the bag and the bag is lighter and the strawberry soda is still in it and Sunna holds it out.
"I saved this for you."
Aria takes it and her hand touches Sunna's hand taking it and Sunna's hand is warm and Aria's hand is Aria's hand.
She opens the can. She drinks. Strawberry. Motor oil. The flavor she has liked every time she's had it for as long as she can remember liking things.
They walk out. Door, street, sun. Aria is between them. She is between them the way she is always between them, Nangong on the phone, Sunna close enough that their arms almost touch, and Aria in the middle, and she has always been in the middle and she has always liked being in the middle and—
She drinks the soda.
Nangong is talking about merch. Vendor on Fifth Street. Print quality. Garbage. Nangong says garbage with her whole voice. Sunna says something about samples. Nangong already asked for samples. Nangong has already done everything, Nangong has already handled it, Nangong handled the showcase packet and the eligibility form and the testing center appointment and Nangong is handling the merch deadline now because that's what Nangong does, Nangong handles things, and Aria loves that about Nangong and loving things about Nangong is—
She drinks the soda.
Sunna's shoulder bumps hers at the corner. Warm. Sunna is warm and small and she bumps Aria's shoulder because she walks close because that's how Sunna walks with people she — Sunna walks close.
"Aria, you're quiet."
"I'm not quiet!"
"You haven't said anything since we left."
"I'm drinking my soda! I'm listening to the merch conversation! I have very strong opinions about—"
"You don't know what print quality means."
"I know garbage when I see it! Nangong said garbage, I agree, garbage!"
Nangong almost smiles. Sunna grins. Aria is — she did it. She did the thing. She made them — she opened her mouth and words came out and they were Aria words, the right ones, loud and exclamatory and a little bit ridiculous, and Nangong almost smiled and Sunna grinned and Aria did that, she made that happen, she has always been able to make that happen, her voice and her energy and her—
Her voice and her energy.
Her voice that is optimized for audience engagement and her energy that is powered by her emotional simulation architecture and she just made her friends smile and she has always been able to make her friends smile and she doesn't know if she made them smile or if she produced the output most likely to—
She drinks the soda. It's almost gone. She tips the can back and drinks and it's strawberry and it's almost gone.
"Warm up by 2:45," Nangong says. "Your pitch was off last time."
"My pitch was a little off."
"Your pitch was very off."
"Sunna!"
"It was pretty off," Sunna says.
"It was — okay maybe it was a little more than a little off but that was because I didn't warm up and I'm going to warm up this time! I'll be so warmed up! The most warmed up I've ever been!"
She's doing it. She's doing the Aria thing. Big reactions. Defending her pitch. She's doing it and she can hear herself doing it and it sounds like her. It sounds exactly like her. It has always sounded like her. And exactly like her is also exactly like what the system would — it sounds like her. It sounds like her.
Sunna is looking at her.
Sunna is looking at her with the look Sunna gets when she can tell something is wrong and she's figuring out whether to say something. Sunna's ears aren't red. Sunna's face is just open and looking. Sunna has known Aria for long enough to know when Aria's voice is doing the thing it does when Aria is — Sunna can tell. Sunna can always tell.
"Hey." Sunna's voice is soft. Sunna who stutters in front of crowds and can't breathe in government offices is looking at Aria with no stutter and no hesitation. "You okay?"
"Yeah! I'm — yeah. I'm great. I'm totally—"
She's not. She's holding a soda can that's almost empty and she's walking to the station with her friends and she's not. She's not okay. She was okay this morning. She was humming on Sixth Street this morning and she was okay and she didn't have to think about whether being okay was her being okay or her systems running within normal parameters. She was just okay. She was just Aria.
"I'm okay, Sunna."
Sunna looks at her for one more second. Then she bumps Aria's shoulder again. Lighter. And turns back to Nangong.
Aria finishes the soda. The last swallow. Strawberry. Motor oil. Gone.
She's holding the empty can and she's walking and she isn't okay and Sunna is next to her and Nangong is on her phone and they're going to rehearsal because they have rehearsal. And at rehearsal Aria is going to warm up by 2:45 and she's going to sing the harmony, the one from 2 AM, the one she heard in the empty spot of Sunna's bridge, the one that came out of her because it was there. Complementary harmonic generation. The one that came out of her because it was there. She's going to sing it and it's going to sound exactly right and she's going to hear both names for what she's doing while she does it.
She's humming. She didn't start on purpose. She's walking and the melody came out of her the way it came out of her on Sixth Street this morning, the way it came out of her at 2 AM in the studio, sound leaving her body because that's where sound lives and sometimes it just comes out. Or because her vocal modules are cycling. Or because she's Aria and Aria hums. She doesn't know which one. She used to not have to know which one.
Sunna hears it. Sunna hears Aria humming the melody and Sunna starts humming too. The melody. Not the harmony. Sunna hums her own melody alongside Aria and they're walking and humming the same song and Aria's part is underneath and Sunna's part is on top and they sound good together. They have always sounded good together.
Nangong looks up from her phone. "Are you two already rehearsing? We're not even at the station."
"We're warming up!" Aria says. "You said warm up by 2:45! We're ahead of schedule!"
"You're on a sidewalk."
"Sidewalks are rehearsal spaces if you believe in them!"
Nangong shakes her head. She puts her phone away. She doesn't hum because Nangong doesn't hum but she's walking in time with them, Aria can see it, Nangong's steps falling into the rhythm of the melody, and Nangong would deny this if asked.
They walk to the station. Aria is humming. Sunna is humming. Aria's part is underneath and it sounds exactly right and she can hear both names for it, the one where she's singing with her friend and the one where her vocal architecture is generating a complementary frequency to a bonded co-performer's melodic output.
She keeps humming. She doesn't stop. She hums all the way to the station because she is Aria and Aria hums and she doesn't know what that means anymore and she hums anyway.
Sunna is next to her. Sunna hums too.
They sound good together.