Chapter Text
The light takes her back once more.
Her purpose is clear: last time was the trial run. Now she’s going for 100% completion.
“Moca? What are you doing up here?”
Ran’s voice sounds even more wary the second time around—well, third, technically. Moca of course recognizes that this is just a matter of her own perception, and not any actual significant shift in Ran’s attitude. She’s barely been back in time enough to cause a difference, after all. But that’s about to change. “’Sup?” she asks, joining Ran on the railing. “Nice sunset you’re checkin’ out here.”
“What’s it matter to you, anyway?” Ran retorts.
Her tone is just as cutting as it was last time. But Moca’s steeled herself for it now. “Why, lots matters to me. What time Yamabuki Bakery opens, what kind of fashion Hii-chan is picking out for our next show, and of course how my dear, precious Ran is doing all alone on the rooftop.”
“Tch.” Ran clicks her tongue. “You should go to practice. They’re waiting for you.”
“Waiting for us,” Moca corrects, bumping shoulders with her. “Come on. Talk to Moca-chan. What’s eating at you?”
No response. Being too direct? Or not direct enough?
“…Hii-chan told me she overheard you talking with your dad. She said it sounded tense.”
Irritation flares through Ran’s eyes. “Who said that was any of your business?”
Okay, okay, a little more fiery than the last time around. Time to cool things off a bit. “Moca-chan isn’t an old snoop, you know. She’s just concerned, like a doting old mother.”
“As if. You’re always prying Himari for gossip, aren’t you?”
“Doting old mothers love hearing about petty drama involving tennis team girls, and not legitimate issues their friends are having.”
Ran presses her chin into the railing. “Well, what do you want me to say? ‘I hate my dad and wish he would get out of my hair already’?”
“Sounds like a good start to me,” says Moca, meandering over to wrap herself around Ran. She worries for a split-second about appearing clingy, but going by the lack of jostling beneath her the affection isn’t unwanted. “You can talk it out with him later mano a mano. But for now you should let it all out.”
“How?”
“Hmm… by screaming it at the top of your lungs?”
The little snort Ran lets out tells Moca she’s doing okay, at least. “What, just like yelling ‘fuck you dad’ out over the quad?”
“Never know,” purrs Moca. “Might help.”
She can feel Ran’s diaphragm collapse and expand in her arms for a moment before they’re pried off. “Gimme space, will you?”
Moca complies, taking a step back and crossing her arms as Ran straightens her spine. For a moment she just looks out over the grounds, taking the amber streaks of the sky into her with a deep, meditative breath. And then she grips the railway tightly before bringing both hands to cup her mouth:
“Fuck you, Dad!”
“…Louder,” Moca goads.
“Fuck you, Dad!”
“Louder!”
“FUCK YOU, DAD!”
“Louder, you’re my everything!”
In a single instant Ran’s burning anger snaps towards her.
“Ehehe, sorry, I had to—”
The ensuing schoolbag slapfight could probably have been avoided if Moca had just learned to shut up with the jokes, but that was a lesson she hasn’t drilled into her brain for the first couple decades of her life and she probably wouldn’t anytime soon.
Besides, Ran’s smiling as she does it.
And Moca would take any amount of pain just to see her smile.
“…Sorry, I just don’t get the lyrics.”
Phase Two. Ran still managed to sort out things with her dad for an interim period, but this would be the critical moment… or at least, the first of many. Moca knew that Ran and her dad shared a key trait of stubbornness, so inciting her to total rebellion would just lead to an explosion that nobody wanted. She had to lean her into prying away slowly. Surely. With less heartache and more determination.
“I don’t know about you all, but the lyrics make perfect sense to me,” says Moca, breaking up the chain of confusion that came about after they listened to the Tied to the Skies demo. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Umm… no?” asks Himari. “The words were way too dense for me to get!”
“That’s just because you’re not a language arts genius like yours truly,” sings Moca. She creeps over and slinks an arm around Ran’s neck, who shrinks a little at the contact. “Don’t worry. Me ‘n’ Ran’ll hash things out so you all can get it.”
“H-Hold on,” says Ran. “Are you saying you want to work on the song lyrics together?”
Moca’s never felt so emboldened before. “What? You don’t want the poetic talents of dear old Moca-chan? She writes so fleetingly, you know…”
“Woah, she knows the Kaoru-senpai word!” says Tomoe. “She must be good at writing then, right?”
“Is that how it works…?” asks Tsugumi.
Ran finally shoves Moca’s arm off her shoulder. “Look, if Moca wants to help that’s fine. In fact, that might help out since I’m still working through flower arrangement lessons.”
“Oh yeah, that can take some of the load off,” says Tomoe. “Good thinking.”
“Yeah, don’t worry so much about us!” says Himari, patting Ran on the shoulder. “Do what you need to do at home.”
It’s shaky, but Ran smiles. “Thanks guys.”
It’s a warm, fuzzy moment. Enough to make anybody’s heart fly out of their chest at the camaraderie on display.
But not quite the result Moca wants, is it?
Hm.
Hmm.
She thinks it over as the rest of the conversation plays out like last time—Himari, Tomoe, and Tsugumi all depart to WcRonald’s, leaving the two of them walking home on their lonesome.
“Something up?” asks Ran. “You’re not usually this quiet.”
“…Ah! Sorry, I was thinking of bread,” Moca lies. “It’s so easy to lose yourself in the sweet memory of a melon bun.”
“Right,” says Ran, who’s heard a variation of this at least a million times by now. “Forget I asked.”
She saunters on quietly. She’s definitely not as troubled by the lyrics as she was last time, as if she’s thrust the responsibility entirely into Moca’s hands. That would certainly lighten things for Ran in the short term, but in the long term… would she just consign herself to her fate once again?
It felt strange to Moca that Ran would ever settle for anything. She was always the burning comet, blazing the path ahead of where Afterglow would go, forging her own identity from the ashes of a role thrust upon her from birth—it seems so unreal that she would settle for a life someone set out for her. That isn’t the Ran she knows. She only falls into that life for the sake of everybody else, unable to consider a future that’s truly her own because she’s so concerned with keeping everyone together. It’s enough to tear Moca’s heart right in two.
What would Ran not do for Afterglow’s sake?
…
Moca realizes that that’s the answer. The key to changing Ran’s path.
But to do it… she has to hurt her.
It’s nothing soul-shattering she’ll have to say. An offhand comment or an earnest plea at most. But it isn’t gentle or unabrasive, either: the sort of temporary cruelty that will prove a long-lasting kindness. But is Moca prepared to do that?
She’s noticing only now how far Ran is ahead of her on the sidewalk.
It’s now or never.
“…Hey, Ran?”
Ran stops, turning to notice how far behind Moca’s fallen. “What is it?”
Moca halts too, peering into the rigid blaze of her eyes from meters away. “I… I think I know why everyone else didn’t get the lyrics.”
“Oh yeah? Why?”
“Well…” Moca’s eyes scan for anywhere that isn’t Ran’s face. “You haven’t been spending too much time with us lately.”
She can see it on the edge of her periphery: the hurt that comes with the realization. The same realization that Moca unwittingly thrust upon her last time, now used with intent. The void in her chest tells her she doesn’t want to do this. Even the slightest of painful truths feels like toxin coming from her mouth. But even as she sees Ran’s face fall, she has to remain strong.
“I… I guess we feel a little lost without you.”
It’s both much more and much less than Moca means to say. Immediately her mind fills up with horrible possibilities: that Ran will lash out, that Ran will break down, that Ran won’t know what to do with this information except feel wracked with guilt. She’s supposed to protect Ran from feelings like this, isn’t she? And now here she is indulging in them for her own sick ends. How could she—
“I’m sorry.”
Ran’s tone is low. Deep. But stable.
“I… I didn’t realize. I didn’t mean to… to…”
Before she can cognize it, Moca’s closed the distance between them. She opens her arms, ready to slam into an embrace—
Ran steps back.
Moca brakes.
“I… I hate flower arranging, honestly,” Ran continues. Her arms are huddled close to her chest, as if shivering. “I told my dad I’d do it going forward, but it just… takes up all my time. It’s not even like I hate doing it, I just… I can’t see you guys anymore. And I hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it.”
Moca looks on. She wonders what her own expression looks like right now. She’s too fixated on the way Ran’s biting her lip to notice anything else.
“But… if it’s causing us to grow apart…” The fog in her eyes clears to reveal dawning light. “Then it isn’t worth it. I’ll tell my dad to shove it up his ass.”
Gulp. “Are… are you sure that’s a good idea?” Moca blurts out, her mouth now moving independently of her thoughts.
“If that’s what it takes,” says Ran. “The band’s what’s most important, and I want him to know that. If I have to decide between one or the other… then I’ll throw all his stupid flowers in the dirt.”
Ran’s eyes shine with a brilliance Moca’s never known.
…
She feels like an idiot.
To think that Ran Mitake would be so fragile as to crumble under the slightest weight of guilt… who is she thinking of here?
That’s right. Moca never carved the paths for Ran. She always spent more time watching than anything else. All she has to do is nudge her in the right direction.
“Hey, Ran?”
“What is it?”
“I would… tr-try to be reasonable at first. Maybe say you really don’t want to do it. Ask if you can lower the number of lessons first or something.”
“…Yeah.” Ran looks into her. “But what if he doesn’t listen?”
“Well.” Moca grins. “That’s when you tell him to eat shit.”
For once, Ran matches her smile. “You always know just what to say, huh?”
“Eheheh… of course.”
Another lie on the pile.
“I am a language arts genius, after all.”
Moca might as well lose track of them at this point.
Deep-blue night stretches out above them, dotted with pinpricks of white. The air is clear. The wind is cool.
“…Is it really a good time to come up here?”
Phase Three. Honestly more of a victory lap at this point. But Moca still wants their little festival outing to go well. “Why not? No sight is as splendid as when I’m with Ran, my bestest friend in the whole wide world.”
“Yeah, right,” Ran snarks. “You called Lisa that just last week, didn’t you?”
Moca has technically used that label for just about everybody she’s known with varying degrees of flippancy. “Okay, maybe you’re number three.”
“Three? Who else is above me?”
Moca blurts out the first name that comes to mind. “Chisato Shirasagi.”
“From Pastel*Palettes? Have you ever even talked to her?”
“Oh lots. We’re actually in love and going to elope against our parents’ wishes next month. It’s an entire tragic love story involving midnight trysts and secrets whispered in the dark. I’ll tell you all about it sometime.”
“Mm, is that so…” Ran sounds completely and totally convinced beyond belief. “Well invite me to the wedding, I guess.”
“Oh, so you can make a dramatic objection at the altar and sweep me into your arms?”
“A-As if.”
“Ohoho, Ran’s blushing… I guess she loves Moca-chan after all~!”
A slap on the wrist. “Cram it, you idiot!”
Moca’s heart always goes thumping whenever she teases Ran like this. There’s something so thrilling about coming so close to actually speaking her mind and never actually getting there… and seeing the rush of red to Ran’s face… it’s enough to give any fool hope. And Moca is, of course, the biggest jester in all the world.
Ran lets out her frustration through her nostrils. “Guess it makes sense to have love on the mind. Tomoe and Himari are probably off snogging somewhere, and Tsugumi’s with Sayo-san exploring the festival…”
“Oh?” Moca pivots to face her and, in a moment of boldness, asks a question she’s never dared to before. “You got a crush in mind? Besides me, of course.”
She expects to fully get slapped across the face for that one, but Ran just curls up into her knees. “What’s it matter to you?”
“Oh, come on, Ran,” Moca hums. “I’m your girl. Your bestie. Your wingwoman. You tell me who you’re looking at, and Cupid Moca-chan will pierce their heart with an arrow, just for you.”
Ran’s foot wiggles about frenetically. “It’s nobody, alright? Nobody at all.”
“It’s Minato-san, isn’t it?”
“I’m gonna rip out your lungs.”
“How else do you explain those burning, longing gazes you give her every time we’re all at a concert together?”
“Th-That’s because I hate her guts!”
“You can hate someone’s guts and still wanna smooch them.”
“Huh. You know what? I guess you’re right.”
Moca blinks. “Wait, are you saying you do love Mina—”
“Hell no!” Ran barks, throwing her coin purse at Moca. “Ugh, you’re a real pest sometimes, you know that?”
Moca giggles it off, hoping her 500bpm heartrate slows down sometime soon as her brain scrambles to regain balance. “B-Being a pest is Moca-chan’s specialty. After all, she’s a gadfly to her core.”
“Har har,” Ran fake laughs, suddenly splaying her limbs out across the grass. “Guess I’ll have to call an exterminator.”
Moca copies her. “Make my death swift and painless, please.”
“Sure.”
Moca wants to guffaw at the brusqueness of the delivery, but her mind’s too occupied with whatever Ran’s thinking about. Does Ran have a crush on anybody? She’s never told Moca about it, and as far as Moca can tell she’s the person Ran tells everything. She was the only person Ran told about her middle school crush on Tsugumi, and the only person Ran told about the time she broke her dad’s window playing baseball, and the only person Ran told about how she’s secretly high-key annoyed every time Tomoe and Himari call each other ‘babe’ (though that one is obvious to anyone paying attention). If she has feelings for someone, then she’d be the one to know.
Unless, of course, Moca was that someone. But she’s not that much of a fool. How many times has she slunk her arms around Ran’s frame? Spent long hours huddled together jamming away on their guitars? Buried her face in that black mane, soaking up the smell of Ran’s cherry blossom-scented shampoo like it was the air on a crisp spring morning? And how many times has Ran batted her away, content to retain a friendly distance? If there’s supposed to be something more between them, then she hasn’t shown it. They’re friends. Nothing more… and thankfully, nothing less.
The fireworks bloom in the night. Ran looks out like last time, reciting the same eloquent spiel about flowers and expression, her gaze caught in the lurid display of colors. Moca only half-listens. She’s too distracted by her own thoughts.
If Ran ever falls in love with someone else, Moca will support her.
That’s her role. To be the gracious god Mocagami, granting the happy endings that all her friends so rightly deserve. Love, wealth, happiness… she’ll give it all to them, if that’s what they desire.
It’d just be returning the favor, after all.
“Moca?”
The voice snaps her out of it. “Yeah, Ran?”
A halting breath. “I… I wish everyone else was here.”
Moca’s eyes reflect the burning red above. She feels the night wind cut at her cheeks. “Yeah. Me too.”
“Geez, Moca, are you doing this again?”
Moca’s eyes shoot open and she bolts up, causing Himari and Tsugumi to jump back. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
“Aagh! Don’t scare me like that!” Himari yelps, huddling up in Tomoe’s arms. “I-I just thought you were asleep again!”
“Ehehe.” Moca slowly falls back into her resting position. “You should know better than to wake a sleeping giant.”
“But you’re not as tall as me,” says Tomoe.
“I don’t think that’s the issue…” Ran mutters.
Moca drowses on and on as she listens to their idle conversation about nothing. Seinfeldian back-and-forths like that are her lifeblood, after all—she couldn’t imagine passing through a day without something meaningless happening. People like to talk about how every moment of life was precious and meaningful and stunning, but Moca knows that some of it is just monotonous nothing. But she’ll take a thousand monotonous nothings over even one intimate heart-to-heart. She’s got far too much practice with the former and not nearly enough with the latter.
Everything plays out like normal. Tsugumi gets called out due to one of Hina’s cryptic shenanigans, Moca lures Himari away from the rooftop with promises of a princely rendezvous, and before she knows it it’s just her and Ran, looking out into the western horizon, same as always.
“So,” Moca begins. “You single?”
Ran doesn’t even look at her in response.
“Woof. Guess I’ve gotta work on my openers, huh?”
Ran’s hands wring around the railing. “I’ve decided.”
“Oh? Decided what? To get on one knee and propose?”
Again, not even contempt. Ran’s clearly weighed down right now.
“…Sorry. Go ahead.”
Ran actually looks a little startled to hear Moca apologize, but the shock fades from her expression soon enough. “We’re all… splitting up, right?”
It’s Moca’s turn to not respond.
“…I managed to stick it out with flower arranging all these years for you guys,” says Ran. “And I guess it’s an alright fallback option or something. But it’s not what I want to do.”
Moca tries to show how much her heart fills up at that. “Really? What is, then?”
Ran’s red streak catches the sun, blazing orange in the evening twilight. “What I’ve always done up to this point. Music.”
Music. It’s such a simple answer, and yet feels so profound coming from her lips.
“Obviously Afterglow can’t all stick together, so I was thinking of going solo or something.” She shrugs as she flips around to rest her back on the rail. “I dunno.”
“Ohoho, like a singer-songwriter?” asks Moca. “Can’t wait to hear you with an acoustic guitar over the Starbucks speakers.”
She expects a suplex for that one, but Ran (surprisingly) chuckles. “Wouldn’t that be something? I guess I could try to find another band or something, too.”
“Could always try worming your way into Roselia. Usurp Minato-san and take her kingdom from her.”
Ah, there’s the look of exasperation. “You have the weirdest ideas, you know that?”
“Of course. It’s my job.”
Ran doesn’t say anything for a moment. Her back’s turned towards the sun, casting her face in shadow, until she mutters something unintelligible. “…ith me.”
“Hm? Sorry, what was that?”
“Um, you…” Ran clears her throat. “You can come with me, if you like.”
Moca’s mouth—usually hung in a tiny ‘o’—is now completely flat, her eyes as wide as the moon.
“Everybody else has plans, I know,” says Ran. “But I dunno. I guess we could try striking out as like a duo or something? Just a couple of girls and their guitars… something like that.”
Silence.
“Well?” asks Ran, turning to face her. “What do you think?”
It’s happened again.
Ran’s carved out the path, and she can follow right behind.
A happy ending, not just for Ran, but for herself.
Dreams really could come true, couldn’t they? It’s as simple as saying yes. She just has to reach out and take it.
…
Moca turns away from the sun. “I’ll think about it.”
“Y-Yeah, it’s a pretty big decision.” Ran coughs. “Take your time. I probably should have told you about it a lot sooner, honestly.”
“Moca-chan appreciates it.” Even now she can manage to put on her sing-songy intonation, at least. She moseys away from the railing. “Now if you’ll excuse her, she has an appointment to get to.”
“An appointment?” Ran asks. “At this time of day?”
“Yep. Yamabuki Bakery closes in less than half an hour, you know.”
“Ah, should’ve figured… well, see you later.”
“See you earlier~.”
She shuts the door before Ran can process the remark.
Part of her knows she should seriously consider Ran’s offer. But deep down in her heart, she’s already accepted the truth.
This is her happy ending.
She just has to make sure the credits never roll.