Chapter Text
“Why do you want to be an idol?”
The words stuck in her mouth, drying her throat.
She was standing in the interview room, trying to hide her twiddling thumbs. This was the last step before she'd appear in public.
“Why do you want to become an idol?”
Shizuku was new then, yet she recited it perfectly.
Once and only once.
What she was supposed to say was “You see, my aura won me the spot in cheerful*days. I'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to work alongside so many wonderful idols - not to mention people like you, our fans. I would like to extend a hand to everyone here- for supporting me.” she doesn't. Where had that girl gone?
“Why do you want to become an idol?”
The words, not coming out her mouth, again. She'd memorised this. She expected this.
“Why do you want to become an idol?”
Confused, by Shiho. Music had been her thing.
“Why do you want to become an idol?”
Excited, from her friends. They seemed so happy then, and so distant now.
“Why do you want to become an idol?”
Scathing, from Airi. The last words she heard from her.
The floor churned beneath her feet, and she was sinking, sinking, sinking. She became a blur of so many different people - and her real self, the girl she hoped to push away, remerged. Again, and again, and again. She couldn't make it stop.
Shizuku awoke, forehead beaded with sweat. It seemed her only respite was not safe anymore. She had been exhausted from her work (photoshoots - how much of a brat was she to be tired from so little work she could have shared).
“I want to become an idol…” she whispered to herself (so Shiho couldn't hear), “because my friend signed me up… and I want to suffer. I will stay on because … everybody wants me to, and I might get jumped by Arisa if I dont… and it'll be good for my career in-”
What exactly?
“And all I need to do is try harder. That's it. It's my fault because I can do better.”
She stared at her hands in the moonlight. Her fingers were long, spindly and usually cold, and her nails were press-ons because it seemed keratin wasn't acceptable here. Shiny and plastic. Like her.
“Shizuku…”
She sat up, and turned her head. Was that her sister?
There was a great flash of light and Shizuku was enveloped in it. It was blinding against the dark sky in the corner of her window.
She immediately found herself standing in a great greenhouse. The sky was bright here, awash with clouds, and twisted beams of steel stretched out in between the panels of glass.
A girl with stunning eyes and two low-hanging twin tails turned to face her. She was dressed in the way Shizuku would like to be - mature, almost business-like.
"You know your true feelings-”
Who was she?
“Will you confront them? That is the question…”
Shizuku was suddenly so cold despite the sun. How could she get out ? This was one weird dream… had she eaten too much cheese? Maybe she worked harder in dance practice today?
There was another swirl of light.
She woke up. Had she?
It had been a weird dream, but it was a marked improvement from what she was used to. She had not reached the morning, so she sighed and turned over - she couldn’t afford not to sleep.
***
“Hey Honami-chan-”
“Ichika-chan, hi…”
The two weren't really friends anymore, but Saki was the only reason they had spent so much time together. Honami was almost sure they were never that good friends to begin with, but Saki was their glue before she got too ill to continue.
Were the Leonids really all that bright - kids, in an urban area? She had glorified the memory, surely. They all had, reaching for a future that had never come to them.
“I kinda get the feeling that we should reconnect, if we're going to be friends again - I know we're not going to be in a music group now, but - uh, do you want to get a meal or something?”
“Mochizuki-san… I want to know what you think about this measure here!” Kanade emerged out of nowhere behind them.
“Kanade-san…” Would she technically be her senpai in school? They hadn't spoken here before - although Kanade was eating Honami's bentos.
“You'll be at mine later… If it's not too much trouble, could you come earlier? Please?”
“I was actually-” Honami stammered, stopping, as she connected her gaze to Ichika.
This was her chance, wasn't it? “Ichika-chan… I'm so sorry… we as a band, we haven't gotten so much as a name yet-”
Honami couldn't bring herself to look at Ichika. She could feel her brimming with a sadness both of them should have expected. Saki might not have known, but they really couldn't go back. Not after middle school.
Middle school started with Honami being put into a class where nobody she knew was there. She'd always been shy - difficult to make friends with. Everyone in her class spoke to her about their problems, never letting her have any of her own. The classmates turned eventually. She found herself consoling everyone -angering more than made sense. People pleaser. Bootlicker.
It became too much.
Everyone else outside the bubble of Honami's middle school class, that short year, wasn't allowed to be a friend. She had to prove herself. She couldn't explain how she felt to anyone. That meant Leo/need, all members of which she was falling out with anyway - Saki too far, Ichika too close, Shiho a delinquent - couldn't be in her life anymore. Honami had to be solo to be trusted.
High school had been alright. She didn't have to repeat her ordeal, but she was scared of having to rekindle a spark long gone. So she wasn't going to try.
“Bye, then.”
***
The only thing that ever really failed her in her role as perfect was her memory. And getting off at the wrong stop.
“Sorry, do you know where my costume is?”
“Nope.”
“Sorry, do you know where my costume is?”
“Stop being lazy and find it yourself,”
“Sorry, do you know where my costume is?”
“Guess who finally showed up.” one of the juniors giggled.
Huh? Shizuku knew she was busy with photoshoots the majority of the time (that was definitely on her, but she got a biscuit and a pampering), but things like costumes came out of her wage. Additionally, they were beautiful. She had named her first and still hadn't shut up about it.
“How could you be so careless, huh? You know all those fans who came just for you, and didn't get to see you - but then again, they didn't see you last time either-”
The other idols were tired, probably. Tired of Shizuku not doing enough or being enough. This was only fair. If they could become someone else, cover for shizuku, and assimilate to her rather terrible level, then perhaps this was all deserved
Perhaps they were just going to have to save her .They wouldn’t if it only benefited her.
They saved her, time and time again, and no amount of gratitude fixed the initial problem: her. They saved her once moreL although there was now a pit in her stomach that made her wonder, here (only here), was it her fault?
Shizuku shouldn't have become an idol. She knows. She really does. She wonders, just
wonders, why couldn't she play along?
***
A band. Why a band?
“Does this song come with lyrics?” Honami said, raising a hand at the beat-up school drum kit she was sitting at.
“There's only two of us, I don't know.” Kanade pondered the question “I can try?”
Honami sat at the drum set and counted them in. There was a loud clatter as she dropped her drumsticks. “Sorry!”
Perhaps music might touch more hearts live. Perhaps it could change it a little for every time she performed, to match the mood to a crowd.
“One more time… one, two, three, four!”
The keyboard sections slotted in a little uncomfortably, but to be fair Kanade had sounded alright near the beginning.
The song had slowly descended into madness. She really had underestimated the skill taken to do so many things at once. In sync, on time and accurately. Never mind the stamina needed!
“Sorry.. would you mind giving it a go? Also you were a little late leading up to the chorus…”
Even in exhaustion she was hyper-critical. What should she expect after a lifetime of electronically synthesized instruments?
They started back up and almost immediately stopped. Honami had forgotten to sing entirely.
Hadn't becoming mainstream ruined her father? He had always had the hobby - then the job. He had to keep working to support his family and then with her mother's passing - support Kanade. By then it became the other way round. - one day her father passed the point of no return.
They kept practicing. Kanade had never collaborated in real time to make a song live - she never would have known every song required everything she had. “Just because it's a difficult section doesn't mean there's a reason to rush, Honami - can we go again? From the top?”
She was music. She was everything her father wanted to be. She had stolen it, snatched it away with a child's clumsy fancy. She had to do his work now, fix hearts. To pay everything he gave him back. To save people. This frivolous pastime would only be worth it if she could.
“Okay-” Honami really needed to train her stamina if every practice was about to go like this. She was definitely more athletic, but not built for this.
“I messed up- would you mind if we-” Kanade panted. She had never had the need for a strong body and never really liked pe when she used to attend middle school. Middle school, it seemed, had not been enjoyed by anyone.
“I think it’s best if we leave it for now-” Honami said, realising a bigger issue than her skill was Kanade's health. Saki and Ichika had left the school premises by now - it was stupidly late. "I don't think collapsing in school would be a wise path.”
She was the only one that could keep making music, and now she had reached a point of no return. This band would save Nightcord at 25:00 as Nightcord at 25:00 had saved her. She'd had something to save - what had happened? Why then did they disappear?
***
“First years just want to stick out so hard, you know? Not to name any names but there's a really delusional one- practically broadcasts it-” the student made no effort to lower the volume.
“Ha! I've seen them around- I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like that-” the other replied.
Maths was yet another tedious chore Rui had. Especially more tedious with these simpletons.
This was one flaw that came from always sitting at the back of the classroom. They locked eyes. Rui altered his position slightly and prayed all he’d learnt had given him the appearance of someone looming, dangerous and a little imposing.
“Oh my god, it's his boyfriend!”
“Or should we say it's her girlfriend?”
The bell rang. Without warning, Rui got up from his seat made to leave, not before shooting a murderous glance. Even if they didn't speak it wasn't too hard to at least play at being a decent person.
There was a millisecond of fear before the student regained his usual expression. “Didn't you divorce?”
“You know, I have something right on me that requires a little testing-”
The laughter died on their faces. Rui slumped off.
Woe was him. He was pathetic enough to think so. People could insult him all he liked he supposed, but Mizuki? No.
There wasn’t much point to keeping up appearances when he’d started high school (although this wasn't the first time he’d reached such a conclusion) and he hadn't continued doing so. Could he hang on for another two years? Could he?
He left the school premises.
He was a loner. That had to be his natural state - it was like that before nene moved next door to him - and before (and now after) Mizuki. He hated it. Shows were a reason to be someone else but he had to stay as himself and only, only, only as himself.
Perhaps a show could lift his mood? Cheering someone else up - while sounding incredibly selfish- made you feel… how could he describe it? Magical. Then it'd be worth something, worth seeing.
He walked, head gently swaying side-to-side as he thought. Not a silly daydream that cheered him up, but proper thought. Speech often evaded him or he’d monologue on the street on such times - so deep in his activity (such a consuming one as well), he didn't notice a bump.
“Apologies: I didn't see you there.” His hands immediately began to sweat despite the calm composure on both ends. It was a tree.
Luckily nobody had seen him - everyone else had friends they waited for. Haha.
He peeled his phone out from somewhere, and hesitated.
This was stupid.
He opened his mouth and hummed a tune, letting his tongue feel the shape of the syllables he hadn't formed (the piece was instrumental, by someone named ‘k’)
Music.
Yes, Rui could see the value. It brought joy, despair, whatever really. It could set the scene for anything. Background music in videogames, theatre, and television was omnipresent and omnipotent.
He pressed play.
Time for another show. Time to become someone else for a little while, or at least regain his role as an observer.
The intro ended, and Rui began to sing.
This wasn't a song he'd heard before, but he knew the lyrics like they were carved into his bones. There was no mistaking his embarrassment - the halting drip-feed of words as he clambered to remember them. The background was blurring in his excitement - but he could be loud without a microphone and most importantly he knew how to sing.
Rui and music? It felt more like stealing. Stealing from the composer. Stealing from Nene. Where was she now? He had to do it on his own. She enjoyed it more.
He was perfectly capable of singing, he supposed. So why was it suddenly so hard of him to start now? IF he could go out with his little robots and do a perfectly unmusical show and only get flustered the moment he added something else, he really had a messed-up sense of shame.
No running back now. He kept singing, and he felt his heart break in two with it.
His standards were always high, and he never found a need to continue. Rui could easily pick something up, play it non-stop for weeks, and forget it ever existed (this was not the tale what happened to his last instrument, but alas he needed little to no encouragement to quit, broken truss rod and all).
He was making magic in real time. Music was like that. Shows we're like that. You couldn't wait to catch up. It happened once, and you could only rely on your own skills. Everything happened as it was right in front of you. Take it or leave it.
He opened an eye somewhere after the first verse. Someone was watching. He almost hugged her, for the sheer joy someone wasn't going to throw a tomato at him. The instrumental ceased as he opened his mouth like a drowned fish and bowed awkwardly.
He stopped, bringing his arms outwards as if to embrace someone.
There was applause.
Rui immediately felt his heart skip a beat. They recognised each other. You couldn't forget hair that long, and sure the miyajou uniform was run-of-the-mill, but the tracksuit jacket she was wearing with it was a little funny. Yes, her appearance was memorable.
Rui definitely did not know who she had been accompanied by, but this girl - she had seen him before. Moreover, she had watched him before.
“I.. I don't.. thank you.”
Her, to him? Rather, him to her.
Wait, no. This was what Rui wanted out of his performances. He was just passing the time with them right now, if they could mean something, to something else -
The girl pushed back a tangled lock behind her ear and reached for her phone. Rui flinched, wondering what she was about to do. But no. The girl opened her phone and logged into her social media account.
- The “K”.
“I think you've, uh, taken some of mine, but it's… completely different,”
“I don't know how I've achieved that either.”
Where did the song come from? Rui flicked his gaze back to his phone. It had disappeared. Huh.
“Is it warm? Did someone save you? Was I-”
They'd collaborated, no? They'd had Mizuki's editing (if Rui had internet-stalked correctly) and some other girls' art. They were… were they?
Besides, the only person to save Rui was himself. He was failing at that.
“Apologies, but I'm not who you’re looking for. I don't think that-”
There was a flash of light.