Chapter Text
Festival Prep With My Two-Timer Lunar Wife • Chapter 2
First Rehearsal: Why Is My Producer Glitching So Cute?!
The tablet was still pulsing that soft Tsukuyomi blue on the kitchen counter like it was personally daring the whole universe to keep up, and Kaguya’s arms were locked tight around Iroha-chan from behind, her whole chest pressed flush against that familiar back while the sweet fizz of strawberry milk and warm curry still danced on her tongue from breakfast.
She squeezed harder, chin hooked over Iroha-chan’s shoulder, fingers drumming a happy little rhythm right over Iroha-chan’s stomach because if she let go even a centimeter the moment might slip away like a bad note and she was NOT having that, not when the invitation was literally screaming three keys, one stage, and her producer right here in her arms like the best remix ever.
“Iroha-chan, if the moon thought it could drag me away again it’s gonna have to get in line behind this glowing festival email and my very clingy arms right now!”
The words tumbled out in one bright explosive rush, her voice bouncing off the tiles while she nuzzled deeper into the soft dark strands at Iroha-chan’s nape, real fingers tracing that same idle heart shape she’d doodled on Iroha-chan’s wrist earlier just because touching her felt like the only stable orbit worth crashing for.
Everything felt electric—the cool edge of the counter against Iroha-chan’s hip, the way Iroha-chan’s shoulders melted back into her like they belonged there, the tiny happy hum that vibrated through both of them and made Kaguya’s chest do full cartwheels. Two years of real mornings and real hugs and now the system was finally letting both versions of her stand in the same space with the girl who rewrote every star just to keep her here. The stars were basically screaming about time!
Kaguya spun Iroha-chan around with a playful tug, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt, then grabbed the tablet and tapped confirm before either of them could overthink it.
“Login together, right now—no waiting, no schedules, just us and the stage and whatever three keys even means because it’s gonna sound like us!” She bounced on her toes, oversized black shirt swishing around her thighs, already feeling the neon rush building under her skin like the first chord of a killer track.
They synced their logins side by side at the counter, shoulders brushing, and the world folded into that perfect digital whoosh.
Kaguya’s avatar pinged into existence with a dramatic twirl on the floating island stage, longer blonde hair whipping like it was still riding the comet tail from the crash-landing night, cyan ornaments flaring bright, red kimono sleeves fluttering like she’d just fallen from the sky but this time on purpose and loving every second of it. Virtual wind tugged at her hair, carrying that clean ozone spark that always made her feel brand-new and ancient at the same time, and she let out a whoop that echoed across the neon clouds because this—this right here—was the chorus finally starting.
She landed in a perfect idol pose, hips cocked, one hand on her waist, grin flashing straight at Iroha-chan’s sleek producer avatar already materializing beside her. The soft virtual starlight kissed everything in silver and cyan, and Kaguya’s heart did that ridiculous flip it always did when Iroha-chan looked at her like she was the only melody worth chasing.
“Time to see what three keys sound like when they’re all in love with the same girl.”
The floating island stage hummed under Kaguya’s virtual boots like it was alive and cheering her on already. Soft Tsukuyomi veil drifted across the neon clouds, silver haze catching every edge and making her feel like she could leap straight off and still stick the landing.
She blasted into the opening number at full throttle—120% genki, no brakes. Voice soared on the first high note with an ad-libbed little flip that sent holographic sparks shooting from her fingertips like a whole shower of shooting stars.
♡✧八千年キス or One Morning Crash?!
Woke up from the moon, fell straight into your light
Curry on my lips, but your smile feels so right
Spinning in your kitchen, stealing every bite
No more lonely stars — I’m crashing here tonight!
Her longer blonde hair whipped around her face. Cyan ornaments flashed. Red kimono sleeves flared wide as she spun once, twice, three times.
Because why hold back when the beat was this good and Iroha-chan was right there watching?
Hey! Hey! Gravity can wait
I’m your chaotic spark, come on, accelerate!
“Like this, Iroha-chan!” she yelled mid-phrase, throwing in an extra bouncy hip-check to the invisible rhythm. Her avatar’s wild energy crackled in the air like fresh lightning after a real-world storm.
The music swelled around her, all pulsing bass and bright synths, and she poured everything into it—the crash-landing joy, the fridge-raid mornings, the way Iroha-chan’s grounding melody had pulled her back from the stars every single time. Her virtual skin tingled with it. Every note felt like another defiant middle finger to the old folktale ending.
Then the air shifted.
Yachiyo’s white-pigtail avatar materialized opposite her with that serene, velvet-soft pop, pink plushie tucked under one arm like it was the most natural talisman in two realities. Calm blue eyes, elaborate dark-blue kimono catching the starlight just right, legs fading to those starry teal patterns from the knees down.
No dramatic spin, no sparks—just quiet, elegant presence that somehow made the whole track feel ancient and inevitable, like the stars themselves had been humming this harmony for centuries and were only now getting around to sharing it. Yachiyo lifted one graceful hand, voice slipping in on the next line like cool moonlight over hot asphalt: a single measured correction, soft and precise, smoothing one harmony so perfectly it sent a shiver down Kaguya’s virtual spine.
Waited in the quiet, pink plushie by my side
Watched you build tomorrows with those tired eyes
Gentle as moonlight on an endless tide
Now we stand together — no more need to hide
Kaguya’s next note caught for half a beat.
“Whoa—okay, that’s sneaky good, other-me!” she laughed, the words tumbling out in a bright rush even as she kept the spin going, fingertips slicing through the air. “You’re all quiet elegance and I’m over here exploding into glitter, but together it’s like… like the moon finally figured out how to dance without dragging anyone away!”
Iroha-chan’s sleek producer avatar stepped right between them before the clash could spark into anything bigger, one hand settling warm and steady on Kaguya’s shoulder—virtual but still feeling exactly like those real fingers that traced idle shapes on her wrist every morning.
“Easy, both of you,” Iroha-chan said in that quiet, professional tone that always made Kaguya want to tackle her into the nearest cloud bank. Then, softer toward Yachiyo’s echo: “That was beautiful… but let’s keep the tempo human.”
Iroha-chan’s dark hair with its faint cyan highlights caught the starlight, her producer jacket sitting just right, and Kaguya’s heart did the full supernova flip because there she was—their grounding melody, holding the whole crazy three-key mess together like it was the easiest thing in any world.
Eight thousand years or just one morning kiss
Doesn’t matter now — every second’s bliss
Chaotic heart, quiet soul, we’re rewriting this
Three keys, one orbit — spinning round and round
Raw and elegant, you hold us to the ground
Moon tried to take me, but I choose you every time
In your melody, I’m finally home —
Three keys, one heart, forever in this rhyme!
Kaguya “accidentally” brushed Iroha-chan’s holographic wrist while reaching for the same floating mic, her virtual touch lingering with that warm chaotic press, the overlap sending a spark straight through her avatar like the crash-landing night had just gotten the best sequel ever. She felt Iroha-chan’s tiny glitch-blush ripple across the connection—those tomato cheeks going full system overload—and it was the cutest thing in two realities.
Yachiyo’s digital fingers hovered a heartbeat longer when she adjusted Iroha-chan’s settings, that cool, almost reverent hum contrasting with Kaguya’s bouncy avatar press.
This is my Iroha-chan—holding all three of us together like it’s nothing. I’m gonna explode into glitter any second if we already sound this good!
All those years she waited in the quiet… all those late nights I scribbled dumb sketches… and now here we are.
She leaned into the next chorus even harder.
Her voice cracked up on purpose into that raw, emotional high she knew Iroha-chan loved capturing, while Yachiyo’s velvet lows wove underneath like silk threads tying everything down without dimming the spark. Iroha-chan’s fingers flew across her holographic console, tweaking levels with that focused intensity that still made Kaguya’s knees feel weak even in avatar form, and the three of them orbited each other on the small island stage like the rehearsal had always been waiting for this exact collision.
The music kept building, sparks and starlight and three different kinds of love crashing together in the best possible way, until the final sustained piano note hung in the air—single, shimmering, perfect.
The three avatars drifted closer without anyone saying it, shoulders almost brushing under the soft Tsukuyomi stars, and Kaguya’s grin softened into something real and certain
Yeah… this three-key thing? It wasn’t extra. It felt like the chorus we were always missing.
She let the thought settle, bright and certain, while the soft starlight kept spilling across the three of them in quiet silver waves.
The single sustained piano note hung in the air like a held breath between heartbeats, soft Tsukuyomi starlight spilling over the floating island stage in gentle silver waves that made everything feel suspended, weightless, perfect.
Kaguya’s avatar drifted closer without thinking.
Her virtual boots barely skimmed the glowing platform while the cool digital breeze tugged at her longer blonde hair, cyan ornaments chiming like tiny wind bells. Her chest still buzzed from the last chorus—raw sparks still dancing at her fingertips—but now the music had dialed down to this one shimmering thread, and it felt like the whole metaverse was leaning in to listen.
Yachiyo’s white-pigtail avatar floated opposite, pink plushie cradled against her dark-blue kimono like it had been there for ages and wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon.
Calm, elegant, that velvet-soft presence wrapping around the quiet the way her voice had wrapped around the harmony earlier. Iroha-chan’s sleek producer avatar hovered right between them, grounding everything like always, her holographic fingers paused mid-tweak on the floating console, dark hair with its faint cyan highlights catching the starlight just right.
Thank you for the body, thank you for the years…
Thank you for the mornings, laughter through the tears!
Both of you are mine — I wrote this song for here
No more parting under any moon
We’re the ending that the old tale never knew
Yachiyo’s blue eyes softened with that ancient, knowing warmth as she tilted her head just a fraction, plushie half-hiding the tiny wistful curve of her mouth
“I watched you build her body from nothing, Iroha,” Yachiyo said, voice slipping out in that soft cadence, every syllable carrying centuries of quiet devotion like moonlight on still water. “Thank you for giving us both a future.”
The words landed like a quiet supernova, bright and devastating and warm all at once.
Kaguya’s avatar glitched hard. A full-body static shiver raced from her fingertips to the tips of her longer blonde hair. For one dizzy second she was back on that first floating island stage two years ago, watching Yachiyo cradle the same pink plushie like it was the only steady thing in every lonely login. Her own virtual hands flexed open and closed, chasing the sudden ache of wanting to pull both versions of herself into one giant hug.
Iroha-chan’s avatar flickered hard—those tomato cheeks going full system overload, the glitch rippling across her producer jacket like a wave of static hearts—and Kaguya felt it like a physical tug right behind her ribs.
“They were always for you,” Iroha-chan murmured, voice cracking just enough on the last word, quiet and devastatingly precise, the way only she could make a single sentence feel like a whole love song. “Both of you.”
No long speeches.
Just the three of them drifting even closer on the small island stage, avatars almost brushing under the soft starlight. Kaguya reached first, virtual fingers brushing Iroha-chan’s holographic wrist with that same warm chaotic press, the overlap sending little sparks dancing along her avatar like the best kind of static electricity. Yachiyo’s digital fingers hovered a heartbeat longer on Iroha-chan’s other side, cool ethereal code meeting warm chaotic skin, both reaching for the same girl in the same breath, and the contrast made Kaguya’s chest tighten in the sweetest way.
She could feel the rehearsal console’s faint glow still pulsing behind her eyes—bright cyan for her raw highs, soft lavender for Yachiyo’s velvet lows, steady gold for Iroha-chan’s grounding melody—all three layers overlapping in one perfect spike that matched the blush still flickering across Iroha-chan’s cheeks.
Kaguya’s grin softened into something raw and certain, her voice tumbling out in a bright whisper that somehow carried every chaotic beat and every sincere century at once.
“Iroha-chan… look at us.”
The sustained piano note finally resolved, blooming into a soft, shimmering chord that faded like a promise kept. The three avatars lingered a moment longer, shoulders almost touching, the virtual air between them warm with ozone and starlight and something that felt a lot like forever.
Kaguya bounced on her virtual toes once, grin flashing bright again. “One more pass? Let’s make it even better—because we can, right? All of us, together.”
The final pass soared—three keys locking into one bright, unbreakable harmony that left the floating island stage humming like it had just remembered it was built for exactly this.
Three keys, one orbit — spinning round and round
Raw and elegant, you hold us to the ground
Moon can keep its silence, we got stars in our eyes
In your melody, we’re shining bright —
Three keys, one heart, forever in this rhyme!
Kaguya’s avatar spun one last dramatic circle. Voice cracked up into that raw, emotional high she knew Iroha-chan loved capturing. Yachiyo’s velvet lows and Iroha-chan’s steady gold melody wove underneath like they’d been waiting ages to fit together. Yachiyo’s avatar offered one last graceful nod, white pigtails swaying like silk threads in a gentle current, plushie held steady as her voice threaded the final note with elegant precision that locked everything into place without a single wasted breath. The music faded on a perfect shimmer, and Kaguya felt the whole virtual world exhale with her.
La-la-la… orbit me…
Three keys… one forever…
We shine… together…
“Session complete,” Iroha-chan said softly from her producer console, a tiny proud smile tugging at her avatar’s lips. “We’re ready.”
Kaguya’s heart did a full chaotic orbit. “Then let’s log out before I tackle both of you right here in the code!” She grabbed Iroha-chan’s holographic hand with one virtual grip and shot a bright grin toward Yachiyo’s serene echo. “Real world only for the victory hugs—system rules!”
The logout chime rang sweet and familiar, pulling them back through that gentle digital whoosh.
Real-world gravity settled soft and warm around her shoulders the second the apartment lights flickered back on.
Kaguya didn’t even wait for the tablet screen to finish dimming—she launched straight off the kitchen counter stool and tackled Iroha-chan onto the futon with a delighted squeak, oversized black shirts tangling together in a mess of fabric and laughter. The bed (still the same one from the early days, just bigger and cozier now) whooshed under their combined weight, city lights painting soft lunar silver across the walls while the faint ozone-and-home scent of Iroha-chan’s hoodie filled every breath.
“Real hugs only!” Kaguya declared, voice bright and bouncy even as she nuzzled straight into the exact spot on Iroha-chan’s neck where worry had tried to crease earlier. Sticky fingers from breakfast laced tight with Iroha-chan’s, the overlap sending little sparks dancing along her skin because some habits were never getting patched out. Their foreheads pressed together, breaths syncing like the rehearsal melody had followed them home, chaotic warmth meeting steady heartbeat in the best kind of overlap.
Kaguya’s mind tumbled in one bright, messy, sincere rush—the stubborn hope of every login finally snapping into place because her Iroha-chan had refused to let anything win except them. This felt like the happy ending they’d already earned, only louder, softer, theirs.
She hummed the new rehearsal melody against Iroha-chan’s skin, the notes vibrating warm and certain between them while the apartment lights glowed gentle and the city hummed far below like distant background vocals.
They lingered tangled, city lights painting everything lunar silver, her arms wrapped tight around the girl who held every version of her heart at once.
“We’re really here,” Kaguya whispered, soft and certain against Iroha-chan’s neck, the words carrying every chaotic beat and every quiet star at once. “And the rehearsal has already begun.”